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#he's not going to be seeing this for a WHILE but uh let me have this okay
ohtobeleah · 2 days
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If Logan is one thing, it's protective. and not in a "You're mine and can't do anything for yourself" Toxic way. He's protective in an "I'll literally do anything and everything for you, come hell or high water, I'd throw my over-extended life on the line to keep you safe."
I could see the two of you getting in some sort of car accident. He was the one driving. Something he always insists on doing. You don't often fight him on matters like who does what and when. You enjoy the journey just as much as getting to the destination with Logan in all aspects of life. Just being in each other's presence is enough for you most of the time.
"Y/n?" Logan growls as he comes to. Hell if the impact was enough to rattle him, it had to be enough to be a cause for concern for you. "Honey?" He looks over to where you're slumped in the passenger seat. Not only had you been wearing your seatbelt, but with an instinct to keep you safe, keep you protected from harm's way, Logan had flung his arm across your chest to keep you back against the seat.
"Fuck, Honey, hey--?" Logans reaches over, groaning as he moves. there's shattered glass fragments and twisted aluminium all around you. "I've got you," He taps your cheek softly, trying his best to coax you out of your unconscious state. "I'm here, wake up for me?" Logan seems to be asking questions when in reality it's more of a statement. he needs you to wake up, he needs you to be alright. without you? Logan isn't sure if he could keep living.
"Don't do this to me, please?" He nearly cries as your head lulls to the side, blood dripping from your nose, and your mouth. "I love you," He admits softly while trying to assess the damage done from the impact. You're his girl, why would someone try and take you away from him like this? Had he not been through enough loss? enough hurt?
"Did you just say you love me, Lo?" You mumble as your eyelids flicker. Logan lets out a sigh of relief he didn't know he was holding in. "That's kinda sweet, I'm telling your boyfriend." Logan knew you were referring to Wade, but he didn't care. All he cared about was that you were still here with him.
"You're hearing things," Logan replied as a smile crept across his aging face. The salt and pepper beard prevalent on his cheeks is speckled blood. "Don't scare me like that ever again, you hear me?"
"You're the one who's driving," You look across to where Logan is sitting, the pair of you still trapped in a twisted mess. "And I think it's time for you to wake up now." You stare at him a little more seriously than what you'd just been. Logan feels himself slipping back to reality...only to wake up on your lounge, alone.
"Ahhh!" Logan wakes with an audible gasp as his claws eject from between his knuckles. It's something he's become accustomed to. Waking in the middle of the night from nightmares that haunt him from his past. But these ones were new to him. The fear of losing you had begun to creep into his subconscious.
He's sweating, shaking from a heightened level of adrenaline and fear. But your voice cuts through it all.
"You were dreaming again," You speak up from where you're perched on the kitchen bench. Just sitting, drinking a cup of tea. Watching the man who'd stayed the night sleep on your couch because he refused to stay in your bed. "Kept calling my name out, I saw your uh--claws and thought perhaps keeping a safe distance would be practical."
"Come here," Logan sighs in frustration on two fronts. One, from his utterly confronting nightmare. Two, you somehow manage to sneak up on him like no one else can. "Please?" So that's what you do. You pad over in your underwear and perch yourself on Logan's lap. "What happened Lo?" You coo as your fingers card through his locks.
"I don't know what I'd ever do if I lost you, Honey." He replies sincerely, softly. It's a nice juxtaposition to his normal brooding self.
"Good thing I don't have any plans on going anywhere anytime soon, huh?" You whisper through a smile as you gently press your lips against Logans. He accepts the gesture and goes with the flow. Leaning back against the couch as you deepen the kiss. "Come to bed with me?"
"You know I can't--" Logan whispers into your mouth. "But can you stay here for a few minutes?" He counters your offer with his own. "Please?"
"I'm not going anywhere, Lo." You remind him, kissing him gently and ever so slow as Logan melts against you. And for as protective as Logan is, for the first time, someone was just as willing to be his safeguard in return. "You're safe with me."
You keep him safe from himself.
Ilya
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ashwhowrites · 2 days
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Hi! I'm so happy that you're inbox is open! I love your fics 💜
I have a few ideas for request but I don't want to overwhelm your inbox 😅
I thought about Eddie x fem reader where reader is not into PDA and all of Eddie's friends are telling him that reader is not into him and he should let her go. They don't believe Eddie saying the reader is crazy about him like he is about her.
She cares about him, help him with homework and even put his socks on when he's napping during movie night. Eddie's friends think that he sees her through rose colored glasses.
But one time Gareth or someone else saw how she threatened cheerleader that was telling shit about Eddie.
Or other time Gareth came to trailer park because Eddie had a cold and he was shocked when he saw reader taking care of Eddie.
Thank you for you time!
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
No PDA
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Eddie found himself in a new relationship with Y/N, she was a cheerleader and popular. Their relationship was a shock to everyone and Eddie's friends were skeptical.
Gareth was suspicious from the start. To him, it was weird that Eddie and Y/N didn't act like a couple. They have been together for a few months and Gareth had never seen them do anything more than talking. He didn't think he had ever seen them hold hands or kiss, they looked like friends.
He had talked to Eddie about it many times but Eddie always said that Y/N was crazy about him and there was nothing to be worried about. Gareth wasn't sure if he could believe that without seeing it with his own eyes.
Eddie knew Y/N loved him. It was obvious in the way she took care of him. She wasn't much for public display of affection and Eddie was cool with that. He felt loved by her in different ways. She stayed late to help him with homework, bought his favorite snacks at the store, and always let him pick the movie for date night.
~~~
Gareth was walking down the hallway when he heard the sound of arguing. He looked around the corner and saw Y/N and another cheerleader getting into each other's faces.
"Keep his name out of your mouth. I'm not going to let you talk shit about my boyfriend. If I hear you say anything about him again, I'll get your ass kicked off the team."
Gareth watched as the other stomped and walked away, Y/N looked proud of herself as she walked in the other direction.
Well, Gareth had to give her a point there.
~~~
Eddie came down with a bad cold so he couldn't go to school. Gareth, as his best friend, collected all his homework and planned to drop it off. He stopped at the store for medicine and soup, just in case Wayne was too busy to grab some.
Gareth was confused when he saw another car parked in front of the trailer. He carried the bag of groceries and endless homework. He knocked on the door and called out for Eddie.
But Eddie didn't answer the door, it was Y/N.
"Hey Gareth, come on in," she said, a polite smile on her face
"What are you doing here?" Gareth asked, setting down the groceries on the table
"Taking care of Eddie," she laughed, "Homework and food?" she asked as she began to take out the food from the bags
"Uh yeah, I wasn't sure if Wayne would be able to take care of him," Gareth explained
"Yeah, he's at work, thank you for grabbing all of this. He's in his bedroom if you want to see him."
Gareth nodded, watching as she began to make soup on the stove. He walked towards to Eddie's bedroom, shocked to see how clean it was.
"I don't think I've ever seen your room so clean," Gareth said in awe as he walked in
Eddie tried to laugh but it came out as a harsh cough, "Yeah, Y/N cleaned while I slept."
"I brought you your homework and some soup," Gareth said as he put the books on Eddie's bed
"Thanks, man," Eddie said through sniffles.
"So how long has Y/N been here?" Gareth asked, standing near the door so he didn't catch anything.
"All day, once I told her I was sick she drove over here and has been taking care of me all day. Even put my socks in the dryer so they can be warm!" Eddie gushed, wiggling his toes in his warm socks.
"So she uh, really takes care of you, huh?" Gareth asked
"I told you, she cares about me and loves me. She prefers to do it in private," Eddie said, "and other things in private," he added as he wiggled his eyebrows
"Eddie, don't be a perv," Y/N said as she walked through the door with a bowl of hot soup
Eddie rolled his eyes but happily took the bowl of soup. He sat up as she set the bowl in his hands.
Gareth watched as Eddie ate his soup, and Y/N pushed back his hair to feel his forehead.
Maybe he should have believed Eddie in the first place
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juniperdugong · 3 days
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Confess - Satoru Gojo
WC: 840 || Genre: Fluff || Gojo x GN!reader (established relationship)
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"SATORU GOJO!" Your scream reverberates across all walls and furniture like a gong to Toru's ears as you enter your shared bedroom.
"Uh oh..." He's digging himself into the sheets as fast as he can, the sound of your footsteps feeling like a literal horror movie, he nearly suffocates himself by wrapping the blanket over his head.
"Yeah. Uh oh." You loom over the cacoon he's created for himself. You can feel him shiver as you gently tap at his protection. A slight giggle from you and suddenly the blanket inflates like a balloon. "Satoru... you did not." the annoyance in your voice is evident.
"Don't know what you're talking about lovebug." You can practically hear the jittery nervous smile he's faking for himself under all this mess.
"Yeah? So you didn't just put your infinity up so I can't reach you?"
"Would never dream of doing that in your presence..."
You rip the sheets off and sure enough your hand faces an invisible wall. "Wouldn't dream of it, right?" Sarcasm drips from your words as you meet his face, a completely fake expression of happiness and innocence adorning him like a mask.
You flop yourself over the barrier like a sea lion, allowing yourself to drape over the nothingness and everything separating the two of you. To anyone else's eyes, this looks like a magic trick and you would be impressed too if this little charade weren't getting on your nerves. Your face droops into a pout as you wiggle yourself to stay on top. Toru's breath hits your cheek and you can just barely see how he mimics your pout in response.
You let out an exaggerated and heavy sigh knowing which strings to pull, "Don't do this to me, baby!" His pout turns sad and his voice gets whiny.
"I'm not the one doing anything." Each of your words is punctuated with a poke to, what would be his body, but instead is infinite space. You turn so you're at an angle where he can't see the smirk on your face, consider his strings pulled at this point!
Another heavy sigh is all that it takes before you feel yourself drop and your body thud heavily onto the man beneath you with a pained groan. You quickly try and move your body but your efforts are thwarted as Satoru squeezes you with all of his limps. Wiggling does nothing as he just gets tighter with every sudden move. Eventually, you have to concede because the heat of the friction you're causing is making you sweat and you go limp atop him.
"Gojo Satoru." Your voice is muffled as your face is smothered in Toru's chest.
"Oh, not the full name baby!"
You finagle your head so you can look up at him, your expression obviously upset and angry. "Confess your crimes."
"Crimes? What crimes? I don't see any crimes here sweetness." He looks around the room pretending to be oblivious but you're just too cute with your little pout, how can he resist such charms?
Like a man confessing to god he tilts his head back and towards the sky, putting on a fake look of sadness he lets out a sigh, "I, Gojo Satoru, confess to the crime of..." he pauses.
"Of?" You look at him expectantly.
"...Of eating all of y/n's snacks while they were away on a business trip." He bites his bottom lip looking down at you with puppy dog eyes.
"And?"
"And... for not replacing said snacks before they got home."
"And." You grit your teeth as you say the word.
"And... for waiting till they noticed and got all showered and comfortable after such a long and strenuous trip to mention anything..." His entire body suffocates you, squeezing you impossibly tighter as he finishes his confession, "Please don't hit me when I let go, honey..."
"Hmph" you gruff in response, you make no such promises in this situation.
He slowly releases you from his grip and tenses bracing for impact. Not feeling the weight of your palm against his face he opens an eye curiously.
*THWACK*
He's thrusted backward as you slap him hard in the chest, the surprise elicits multiple fake coughs from Satoru - you know he can take much more than a few of your measly punches but violence from you was always gonna do more damage to his heart than any curse could.
"cough cough ...you promised" he squeaks.
"I didn't actually. You're the one who promised not to touch my snacks... so???" Satisfied you leave him in his state of disarray, traipsing out of the room.
He lets his head hit the pillow, eyes following you in amusement as you walk away. He chuckles to himself completely amazed at your conviction and head over heals even for your little tantrums.
He knows you'll forgive him once he finishes placing all the orders for everything that he ate... maybe you'll even forgive him enough to let him have some if he asks nicely...
Nah, probably not.
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A/N: A little something something for the jjk side of things... I definitely did not write this while completely exhausted at 4am... hope y'all enjoy though! First Satoru fic! Not proofread if you couldn't tell lol
Please Reblog and Comment if you enjoyed! (They act as power-ups for me)
Taglist (OPEN): @iluvmattyb
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exhaslo · 2 days
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Over-Time Ch15
(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)
Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4,Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12, Ch13, Ch14
Warning: MINORS DNI, sexual thoughts, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff, touch starved
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After a long day of worrying over several different things, it was finally time to clock out.
You wanted relief to wash over you as Miguel took your hand.
You wanted to feel relieved as Miguel kept comforting you.
But it was difficult.
Your nerves were getting worse as you kept overthinking about everything that could go wrong. Miguel must have noticed because he kept helping you walk since you were stumbling everywhere. It was embarrassing.
"Amor, (love), I must admit while I hate how stressed you are, I can't help but find your clumsiness adorable." Miguel whispered as he kissed your neck.
"S-Sorry,"
"Allow me to ease yourself," Miguel hummed as his hands stroked down your waist, "I don't want my girl to get gray hairs before me."
"Haha," You chuckled.
As much as you enjoyed Miguel's attention, you knew that you needed answers first. Moving his hands away from your skirt, you leaned forward and pecked his lips.
"Answers first, Miguel."
"Of course,"
The car ride to Miguel's place was quiet. Miguel was respectful of your wishes, his arm only around your shoulder. How much of what Dana said was true? You knew that Miguel would be honest with you, but it still concerned you.
Noticing the car slowing down, you look out the window and saw beautiful skyscrapers. You watched as you pulled into a tightly secured parking lot. The driver parked and exited the vehicle.
"Sir, Ma'am, we have arrived." The driver spoke as he opened the door. Miguel helped you out,
"Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your night."
"Thank you, sir. You as well."
You were in awe over the parking lot alone. It was large, fancy and had lots of body guards. Miguel rested his hand against your waist, leading you towards a brightly lit elevator.
Once inside, you were surprised to see more buttons on the elevator pad than the one at work.
"Would you like to guess what floor I'm on?" Miguel asked you sweetly. You pressed your lips forward, thinking,
"Um...twenty?" You asked, pressing the button. Miguel just chuckled,
"No, try again."
"Uh, twenty-five?" You questioned, pressing another button.
"Haha," Miguel let out a loud laugh as he grabbed your hand, "You don't need to keep pressing the buttons."
"O-Oh! Sorry!"
"Here," Miguel held your hands as he pressed the final floor, "There we go, top floor."
--------
Miguel was itching to touch you more. The warmth of your hand was not enough for him. Feeling you tremble, Miguel just relished in your sweetness. He needed to be respectful of your wishes. To wait until he told you everything.
But Miguel was so bad at listening to himself.
Miguel wanted to kiss you. He wanted to press your body against his, wanting to feel your warmth. Miguel wanted to hear your sexy moans as he groped your body.
To have you pressed against these elevator walls as he slapping his dick into your tight walls. The sounds you would make as Miguel would turn your insides into a hot, wet mess. The way your legs would tremble as your pussy squeezed his dick.
'Shit'
Miguel inhaled deeply as he felt himself getting hard. How easy you did this to him. To think that even the great and powerful Miguel could fold so easily. All because of you.
"(Y/N), may I hold you just a bit?" Miguel asked, wanting you to feel what you were doing to him.
"S-Sure," You stuttered.
Ah, Miguel could never get enough of you. His shy little clumsy mouse. Closing his eyes, Miguel inhaled the perfume you wore. Such a sweet scent. Perfect for when he would ravish you later. His little dessert.
"Miguel," You whined softly.
"Sorry, I don't want anyone seeing," Miguel said a softly
It was true, he didn't want people seeing the state he was in. Almost like a feral beast just wanted to fuck his prey pregnant. Oh how the news reporters would eat this up.
Miguel just needed to wait until they got to his penthouse. Once the two of you did, Miguel hurried took your hand into his place.
--------
You're eyes widen at the sight of Miguel's penthouse. It was large and spacious. Miguel was quick to grab some water before leading you over to the couch.
"Sorry about this, but feel free to look around. I'm going to shower and take care of this first."
"It's okay. Take your time," You hummed. Miguel raised a brow towards you, a slight smirk on his face,
"Unless you care to join me?"
"A-Ah," Your cheeks started to burn, "A-Answers first!"
"Hm, if I answer some of your questions, would you then join me in the shower?"
Why did Miguel have to be so charming? Your heart was leaping at the thought of joining him. That and you pressed your legs together as you started to get hot.
"Maybe..."
"Alright. Before you start your questions, I want you to know that Dana means nothing to me."
"But she did at some point, right?" You hesitantly asked. Miguel sighed softly,
"We had known each other for a long time. She was a friend to me, at least before our two families spoke of marriage. To please my family, I tried to see Dana as something more than a friend...but..." Miguel's look turned sour.
"But?"
"I tried to love her, tried to give her the attention she wanted, but it was never enough. Dana wanted more. I couldn't stand her butting into everything. I started to lie to get rid of her."
"So...why did you sign the contract?" You asked. Miguel stroked your cheek,
"I did, but I didn't. One night I got drunk, too drunk, and she took advantage of it. (Y/N), I am using every lawyer I have under my belt to get out of this arrangement."
"I see," You whispered and gulped, "Um...have you ever...had sex with her?" You didn't want to ask, but you recalled Dana's words.
Miguel must have saw the hurt in your eyes. He kissed your head and stayed in front of you, keeping eye contact.
"I have twice, but it wasn't real love."
It hurt to hear Miguel admit it, but at least he was honest. You had wanted to be Miguel's first as well, but that might have been asking for too much.
"I have other questions...Dana mentioned about you hiding stuff about your family, your past and about your desires and wants?"
"I will answer everything you want. (Y/N), unlike that snake, I care for you. I truly love you and want to keep you by my side. If anything, my main desire is to free myself from that woman and have you all to myself." Miguel kissed your hands. "I want to keep you all to myself."
"Can't you rip the contract?"
"If only it were that easy," Miguel took the seat beside you, "If I were to rip the contract or refuse to marry her, then Dana will have access to my company. I can't let her take everything I worked hard for. She cares only for the money, but she will ruin everything."
"But...it allows you to openly have another relationship?"
"I've read the contract. I can do as I please, so long so, that I don't break off the marriage," Miguel sighed as he leaned back into the couch, "I swear that woman drives me insane."
Playing with your fingers, you could feel Miguel's stress. He truly hated Dana. Wanting to cheer him up, you slowly crawled on top of Miguel's lap. Your hands resting against his cheeks to get his attention again.
"I'm sorry for worrying about this...and for doubting you. I just...I just tend to overthink, that and Dana was pretty s-scary. This...This is my first relationship and I really really like you, Miguel. I was scared that it wasn't real."
"(Y/N)," Miguel wiped your tears away, pulling you in for a gentle kiss, "Sorry to not have warned you about her earlier."
"I-It's okay."
You sniffled softly, calming down. As you did, you whimpered as you felt Miguel's bulge press against your crotch. Miguel hummed lowly as his hands rested against your waist,
"Why don't I answer a few more questions in the shower? Help you clear your mind of worries?"
"Mhm, M-Miguel," You whimpered at the thought.
"Come, let's wash up."
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Next Chapter
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hahaifolded · 2 days
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141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - Thanks for the ride (Long Drabble) Author's Notes: Personally this one is the worst one of the four. Also I didn't expect this to be this long. Warnings: MDNI, Angst
Did Soap enjoy being a little shit? Most of the time. But when it involved hurting you, even disguised as Price’s doing, he couldn’t find any joy in it. He may have successfully ruined Price in your eyes but at what cost?
He knew that you would only take so much of this. He wasn’t stupid. You will snap one day and all of their efforts to keep you will end up being futile. But some sick part of him hoped that you liked them enough to stay. That’ll you’ll hold out as much as they have so far.
And if you hold out long enough, maybe, just maybe, Soap can outlast the others. It’s only a matter of time before the others get over their little crush. Right?
But until then, he’ll be waiting. He’ll keep his distance but he’ll come as soon as you start calling.
Like now, as his phone lights up with your name. It’s Friday morning and he’s currently spotting Gaz on the bench press when his phone starts to ring. His heart jumps when he sees your name. He swipes his phone and answers it.
“Sergeant MacTavish,” he says. He cringes at his words.
“Sergeant,” you start. He could cry. He’s not just your sergeant, he’s Johnny, your Johnny-boy. “I am so sorry to bother you so early but I didn’t know who else to call.” He could tell from the tone of your voice that you were in trouble. He turns around to avoid Kyle from overhearing.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“Yes, I'm okay, but... I... I'm on my way to base, but my car just broke down. I'd walk but I won't make it on time to today's meeting if I do. Is there anyway you can pick me up? I'll pay for gas and your time. Again, I am so sorry for bother--"
"It's not a bother. I'll be there in 10." He hangs up the phone before you can say anything else. Soap was truly God's favorite. Despite everything, you still called him. And like always, he'll answer.
"Everything good there, buddy?" pipes up Gaz.
"Yeah, yeah, don't worry. Uh... just one of the techs," Soap explains. He grabs his bag and tells Gaz he has to go... "bomb emergency." He leaves and rushes to his room. He zips through his room, trying to change into something less sweaty. He wasn't sure why, but his heart was racing.
Was he nervous?
Of course he was nervous.
This would be the first time in over a month that you called him for something that didn't involve a mission. There would be no Ghost, no Price, no Gaz to get in his way. He sprays some perfume that you had gotten him for his birthday, grabs his keys, and runs out of his room.
It's just a straight shot - straight down the hall and to the parking lot. Should be easy?
Wrong.
Waiting for him at the door was his fellow sergeant, Kyle Gaz Garrick.
"Where you going there, buddy? Isn't techs on the other side of the base?" He stands up straight, staring the Scotsman down.
Soap does the same. One way or another, he was going to give you that ride. "It is, but it'll be faster if I drive there. So if you can move, you'd make my day." He tries to side-step Gaz, but Gaz stay still. "Move!" Soap tries to push his teammate. Kyle pushes back, pinning him up against the wall, his arm over his neck.
"Did you really think I wouldn't notice? Mate, your brightness and volume were all the way up ," he scoffs. "You really think I'm going to let you be the hero here."
"Get off!" Soap roars. He shoves Kyle back and punches him in the gut, forcing the sergeant to fall to his knees. However, it does nothing to stop him as Kyle lunges at the Scotsman, forcing him on the floor. They tussle for a bit before two pairs of arms pull the sergeants off from one another.
"What the hell is going on here?" commands Price. He has Soap in his grip while Ghost grabs Gaz.
"Soap here is trying to see them without us," Gaz spits out. Soap feels Price's hold on him tighten. Soap tries to explain himself. How you had called HIM for a ride and he was just trying to be a good teammate.
Price lets out an empty laugh. "Just like how I was trying to help with lunch." Fuck. Soap knew that was going to bite him in the ass, but he didn't think so soon. Ghost lets Gaz go. Gaz walks towards Soap and snatches the keys from his hands.
Soap tries to stop him, but it's no use, Price isn't budging.
And you of course don't know that all of this is going back on base. You're stuck in your car, waiting for Soap to come pick you up. You weren't happy that you called him, but you really had no choice. The bus had already passed, you didn't have enough time to walk, and it looked like it was going to rain. Besides, Soap said it wasn't a bother.
15 minutes have passed and you were starting to get antsy. The meeting was going to start soon and Soap still hadn't come by. You decide to text him... worst case, he's driving and can't answer.
You: Hey! Sorry to bother, but are you close? Again thank you so much for the ride
You put your phone down and look out the window.
Buzz, buzz.
Johnny-boy: Something came up. Sorry.
No fucking way. You could cry right now. And not even out of disappointment, but out of anger. You don't even bother to answer. You turn off your phone and jump out of your car. At this point, it didn't even matter. You were going to be late either way. What's the point of giving them a heads up?
And to your luck, it starts to rain... hard. Could your day get any worse? Fuck, your month, really? Whatever you did, there's no way it was that bad to deserve all of this.
You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn't hear the racing car blasting rock music behind you.
Back on base, Soap is close to just dying in his seat. The 141 are all in the conference room, waiting for your arrival. Gaz and Price are in their seats while Ghost blocks the door. He can see his phone in his Lieutenant's pocket.
Soap begs him to let him go. It's pouring out there and knowing how stubborn you could be, you're probably walking in this weather.
Price shoots him a pointed look. "You really think I'd let them walk in this rain. I already sent some rookies to pick them up." And on cue, his phone rings. "Look, it's the rookies."
Price answers the phone. But instead, of keeping his neutral face, he just frowns. "What do you mean they're not there?" Soap's blood runs cold. Price argues with the rookies for a bit until he hangs up. The room tenses. Everyone looks at Price with baited breath. They all assume the worst. But before anyone can even suggest it, the door opens.
"141! My favorite team! How are... what's with the long faces?" The men all pause. They all had forgotten that Nikolai was going to help them on this next op.
"Nik, not the time," Price grumbles out. All of the men agree. Right now, you were missing and it was all their fault.
Nik gets serious and takes a seat. He assures them that things will work out. Once you finish changing, you can all brainstorm and find a solution.
Once you finish changing?
Soap makes the connection first. He asks Nik if you were on base.
"Da. Found them on my way here." Soap could just cry out of joy. You were okay. You were alive.
His joy is cut short when you come in. You don't say anything. You take your seat at the end of the table.
You look at all of them with indifference, with apathy. "Let's get started."
Soap calls your name. He wasn't sure what he was going to say. All he knew was that he needed to talk to you.
You glare at him. "Sergeant MacTavish, we've wasted enough time today. Let's just do our job," you spit out. You reel in your anger. You were done with Soap, with this team, with everyone.
Soap sinks in his seat. He didn't think you were capable of hatred.
Word Count: 1450
More Thoughts - Next Thought
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cottonlemonade · 18 hours
Text
Atsumu’s New Girlfriend
word count: 656 || avg. reading time: 2 mins.
pairing: post-time skip!Atsumu x chubby!Reader (feat. MSBY)
genre: fluff, crack, established relationship
warnings: spoilers
synopsis: Atsumu’s team doubts your existence
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It wasn’t news to anyone that Atsumu came to work with a superior smirk and a not-so-humble brag on his lips but recently it seemed to have increased exponentially. Without much, or really any, resistance, he happily told his teammates that he went and got himself a girlfriend and would not stop talking about how great you were. From all the stories his friends had heard by now you were stunning, smart, beautiful, kind, gorgeous, got along great with his mom, and laughed at all his jokes. That alone gave them all reason to believe that you were entirely made up.
But one day they went to talk with their PR manager, going over contracts for a new brand deal and as they waited for the elevator Atsumu suddenly pointed to a framed newspaper article and called, “Hey! That’s my girlfriend!”
Curious despite their better judgment, the team crowded around the article and studied the group photo at the top. Sakusa didn’t waste any time and pointed to a trash can that was somewhat off in the background. “That one?”
He easily dodged the slap on the shoulder that would have earned him.
Atsumu grumbled something under his breath and then put his finger to the glass again, pointing to a young woman on the left, dressed in an immaculately tailored pantsuit that sat perfectly on your curves, a confident smile on your face. Underneath the picture, it listed the names and professions of the five people.
“Lawyer?!”, the others called in unison.
With the smuggest grin anyone had ever worn, Atsumu crossed his arms and nodded.
“Do you know what a lawyer is?”, Sakusa asked with a brow raised in doubt, “Can you even spell it?”
“Hey!”
“Just because you hired her and see her regularly, doesn’t make her your girlfriend.”, Meian added carefully.
“I didn’t hire her. I just talked to her.”,
Sakusa didn’t buy it. “You talked to her? With words? And she liked you?”
“Uh huh, just talked to her like normal.” The setter shrugged.
“Yeah, but you opening your mouth is usually where it ends.”, Bokuto said sheepishly.
“Maybe she isn’t normal either.”, Sakusa muttered.
“I’m gonna prove it to ya!”, Atsumu called, a very prominent blush on his face, “She is at my place right now waiting for me. Let’s all go there!”
“Honey, I’m hooome!”, Atsumu called as soon as he pushed open the front door. He immediately regretted it because he had never done that before but when there was no reply, Hinata, Bokuto, and Sakusa looked at him with pity. The rest of the team, not wanting to add to his probable humiliation, decided to leave it to his friends to tease him.
“She must be in the kitchen and can’t hear. She likes to listen to music.”, Atsumu explained as he kicked off his shoes, in a tone that sounded as if listening to music while cooking was somehow the quirkiest thing ever.
And truly, now that he said it, faint music was heard, coming from a room at the far end of the entryway. Atsumu half jogged, half slid with his socks on the wooden floor, and opened the door in question. The others followed.
There you were, in an untucked blouse over pinstripe dress pants with a makeshift apron - a dish towel tucked into the collar - offering a (loud and) highly emotional rendition of the Spirit soundtrack as you stirred something that smelled absolutely heavenly on the stove. The three guests let out a long “Ohhhhh” in understanding, then continued to watch for a few stunned moments, before Atsumu broke from the group.
“Hey babe.”, he purred and shuffled over to hug and kiss you Hello.
You wiped the tears the song had brought to your eyes away and looked past him to his friends, not a singular ounce of embarrassment on your face, you said, “I definitely didn’t make enough for all y’all.”
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art: @_hermoon on Twitter
a/n: Just something silly. Also, Spirit is a phenomenal movie and never fails to make me cry!
brainstorm powered by @haikyu-mp4
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Wedding Jitters
Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader
Requested by Anonymous
Synopsis: it’s your wedding day, but you need your brothers to help you out
A/N: this turned into more of a one shot, but honestly it’s so adorable
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“Alright, one big brother and one maid of honor as requested.” Dean’s voice had you looking to the doorway, where your two brothers were now standing.
“For the last time Dean, man of honor is a real thing,” Sam argued, glaring at his brother.
“Just be glad she didn’t make you the flower girl,” Dean teased with a laugh.
“Hey, idiots, you’ve got a bride freaking out over here,” you interrupted their quarrel.
“Hey hey, no freaking out allowed,” Dean insisted. “Unless you’ve changed your mind, in which case I’m still perfectly ready to assassinate the groom at any given moment.”
“No I did not change my mind!” You huffed. “I just—my hair looks dumb and the dress isn’t working and he’s gonna think I look ugly and-and then I’m gonna trip and—“
“Whoa whoa whoa,” Sam cut in, stepping further into the room and grabbing onto your hands to stabilize you. “None of that is going to happen.”
“Yeah,” Dean insisted. “You picked out that dress because you love it. Your hair looks perfect. If that man thinks you are anything other than the most beautiful woman on earth, I’ll shoot him myse—“
“Dean!” Sam interrupted, but Dean grinned when he saw your lips twitching.
“Yeah, uh huh, it was funny I know.”
“Stop it!” You covered your face with your hands so Dean wouldn’t see you grinning. “You guys are so stupid.”
“And hey,” Dean continued as if you hadn’t interrupted. “You know I won’t ever let you fall, right?”
“Right.” You took a deep breath. “Ok.”
“Ok.” Dean pulled you into his arms, and you felt Sam hug you from the other side. You relaxed in their embrace for a few seconds.
“Hey guys?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re gonna wrinkle my dress.”
“Ok, ok,” Dean huffed, pulling away. “Way to ruin the moment.”
“Hey I think it’s almost time,” Sam said. He led the way to the back of the short line waiting to head down the aisle. You trailed just behind him, holding Dean’s arm in a vice grip.
“Hey sweetheart?” Dean whispered.
“Yeah?”
“You’re hurting my arm.”
You rolled your eyes and loosened your grip.
“I’m not gonna let you trip,” Dean promised again.
“I know.” You nodded. You faced forward, and Sam started making faces at you from his spot just in front of you. You giggled, and Sam grinned widely. As soon as the doors opened to start the ceremony, Dean poked your side and you struggled to get your face under control.
As soon as Sam stepped through the doors, heading down the aisle as your man of honor, the doors shut behind him so that you could have a “big entrance” after Sam got to the end. With the doors closed, it was just you and Dean.
“I’m so proud of you.” Dean’s right hand grabbed onto your hand that was resting on his left arm. “You deserve this. And I want you to know, while you’re out there starting your own family—me and Sammy are always gonna be here for you.”
“I know.” Your hand squeezed Dean’s. “Thanks for walking me down the aisle, Dean.”
Dean grinned. “Well someone’s gotta be up there with a gun in case you change your mind.”
You were just reaching over to smack your brother when the music changed and the doors opened wide. You quickly returned your hands where they were supposed to be, but you couldn’t hold back the tiniest giggle when you saw Dean smirking at you knowingly.
You quickly stifled the laugh, but you couldn’t keep the grin off your face when you saw the awestruck look of your fiancé.
Dean led you down the aisle, and once you reached the end you turned to look at him.
The tears in his eyes didn’t really surprise you—in fact, you already had a response prepared.
“Your eyes are sweating,” you whispered so only he could hear. That got a smile out of him as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering as long as he could. Then he let you go and went to stand by Sam. You were right behind him, reaching over to hand Sam your bouquet.
He wasn’t supposed to, but Sam pulled you into a hug.
“I love you so much,” he whispered into your ear.
“Right back at you.”
You stepped back, taking one last glance at your big brothers before turning to grab onto your fiancé’s outstretched hands…
Knowing that you never would’ve made it this far without them.
Taglist:
@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz
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holylulusworld · 6 hours
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Arachnophobia
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Summary: You’re afraid of spiders, and you want to become Tony Stark’s assistant.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader, Tony Stark x Platonic!Reader, Peter Parker x Platonic!Reader
Warnings: arachnophobia, fluff, scared reader, cute Peter
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“You will work mostly with me and Dr. Banner.” Tony Stark, yes, the Tony Stark, explains as you try to keep up with his steady steps. You are close to reaching your goal, working as a lab assistant at the Avengers Tower.
“OH,” you nod, fearing to say something stupid and messing up this job interview.
“Don’t worry,” Tony stops in his tracks to flash you a smile, “he barely turns into his green alter ego these days.”
You giggle. “I’m not afraid of Dr. Banner because I don’t have a reason. I’m not a villain.”
Tony chuckles. “I know that you’re neither a villain nor a criminal. I did my research before even inviting you to the interview.”
Your cheeks heat up. Of course, Tony Stark would do a complete background check when receiving your application for the position. The Avengers reside in the building too. He’d never risk their safety.
“I hope you didn’t find out I stole a candy when I was four,” you reply, hoping to ease the tension in your body with a joke.
“I saw the footage,” he grins and points at the laboratory. “Let’s head inside. You can meet Dr. Banner and Peter.”
“Peter?” You question.
“I took him under my wing,” Tony replies. “He’s a good boy. Incredibly smart and kind-hearted. Hopefully, a younger version of me.”
You nod. That’s a lot to shoulder at such a young age. Being brilliant and having someone like Tony Stark want you to become his protégé. You envy and pity the young man. It’s hard to stand in a great man’s shadow.
“Shall we?” Tony puts his hand on a scanner at the door. The door beeps but doesn’t open. He leans forward, using the iris scanner to unlock the next lock. Lastly, he types in a code on the keypad. The door finally unlocks, and you can enter the laboratory.
“Wow,” you gasp. You knew that there was going to be lots of security. But Stark’s security system is still impressive.
“Welcome to the laboratory, Mr. Stark, Ms. Y/L/N.” Friday welcomes you to the laboratory. And what can you say? It’s even more impressive than you thought possible.
You look around, clasping your hands together. Bruce and Steve, who came around to let Bruce check on his shield for scientific purposes (which means Bruce wants to shoot a laser at the shield) watch you twirl around while giggling like a child.
“This is so awesome!” You exclaim, making all of them chuckle. They admire your honest enthusiasm and happiness at the sight of the laboratory.
“Hi, Mr. Stark, the new suit is awesome!” A voice stops you from getting even more excited. You look around the room, trying to find the source of the voice. Captain Rogers and Bruce didn’t say a word, nor did Tony. “Hi, miss! You must be the new lab assistant.”
“What—I?” You look around the room again before you slowly look at the ceiling. A bloodcurdling scream tears from your throat, seeing a human-sized spider on the ceiling. “Ahhhhh! No! A spider…A huge spider…A spider…a spider…”
You run toward the door, but it won’t open, so you make a beeline to jump right into Captain America’s arms. Clinging to a very surprised Steve like a koala, you wrap your legs around him and hide your face in his chest. Your teeth shatter, and you whimper in distress.
“Mr. Stark?” You hear something drop to the ground and whine loudly. “I didn’t want to scare her. What did I do?”
“Y/N,” Tony wants to laugh about the scene unfolding in front of him. You’re wrapped around Steve while he looks at Tony, wide-eyed. Steve doesn’t dare to move or say anything, afraid to scare you even more. “Uh, that’s not a spider.”
“It is a huge spider!” You sniffle and hold tight onto Steve for dear life. “HUGE! SPIDER!”
“Uh-miss,” Peter clears his throat. “I’m not a spider. I’m Spiderman.” He slowly steps toward you, tapping a hidden button on the brand-new suit, Tony invented, to let it disappear. “But you can call me Peter.”
Peter holds out his hand, giving you a cracked smile as you slowly dip your head to look his way. In front of you stands a friendly young man, not a spider wanting to scare you.
“Sorry for scaring you. I tried my new suit and crawled around the ceiling to test it,” he explains. “I’m so sorry.”
“You’re…Spiderman…” Realization dawns on you. Crap, this is the Avengers’ tower, and the young man is Spiderman. “OH…no!” You sniffle, embarrassed. “I didn’t want to freak out. I’m sorry too.” You’re still shaken from the encounter, but smile at him. “Sorry…I’m just scared of spiders since one crawled up my leg and bit me when I was a kid.”
You both chuckle when Peter tells you he got bitten once too. He keeps the part of the bite turning him into a human spider out.
“Okay, let us all calm down and laugh it off.” Tony releases a shuddering breath. He feared you’d quit your job right after he hired you. “Steve, could you please let my assistant down now? We are not done with our little tour.”
Steve clears his throat. He forgot about the fact that you’re clinging to his body and that he protectively wrapped his arms around you.
“I think she needs a break,” Steve says, and refuses to let go of you. “Let’s get her some tea and something to eat. That was a stressful situation.”
Tony cocks a brow. He doesn’t like how Steve reacts to you in his arms. “Capsicle. No. We are not done with my tour.”
“What?” Steve furrows his brows. He already walks toward the door with you in his arms. “I’ll show her around. First stop, the kitchen, next to the communal room, and then her place at the tower. I think the room next to mine would be a good choice.”
Steve carefully places you on your feet. He looks you all over, listening to your heartbeat. Luckily, it slowed down.
“Shall we go?” Steve offers his arm to you. “I’ll give you the Steve tour.”
Rolling his eyes, Tony watches Steve guide you out of the laboratory.
“Great, now he stole my lab assistant before I got the chance to work with her.”
Bruce turns back to his work, while Peter still feels guilty for scaring you. He plans on making things up to you soon. Maybe he can even help you lose your fear of spiders...
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Tags in reblog.
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reyreadersblog · 1 day
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ALRIGHT Y'ALL MADE ME DO IT!!!
My unpopular tig/tgg opinions!!
FIRST!
These are MY opinions and i'm allowed to have my own thoughts on certian things, just as you are, okay..? Just wanna..get this out of way, i know everyone is respectful in this fandombut still.
1. this is something that should NOT be an upopular opinion. AVERY IS THE MAIN CHARACTER FOR A REASON. okay? She is a girlboss, and she needs more appretiation, cus literally search up tig on tt rn. Everybody and their cat named Stewie is talking about Grayson and Jameson? WHAT ABOUT MY MG AVERY? And if you see any post about her, it's probably a hate vid about how Avery should've kept the money...SHUT UP. Read what she said carefully..."no one deserves that kind of power.." and then think about it deeply.
2. I DO NOT WANT TIG TO TURN INTO A TV SERIES (or even a movie). i can't name all the reasons 'cus then the the list would be endless. First of all, i know, I JUST KNOW, they'll choose the worst cast ever. And even if they find the most accurate cast for the Hawthorne brother i will still be dissapointed, because the images of them i have in my head...THEY'LL NEVER TOP EM. second of all, they will leave out important moments, just as simple as it sounds, and trust me they will, just like they do with most of the live adaptations of books. Third of all, SHIP WARS!!! I phisically can't with ship war, like I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF EM IN THE PAST WHEN THE BOOKS WERE STILL COMING OUT. And just the thought of Averygrayson shipper saying "yeah Avery and jameson were endgame in the books but they might change it in the movie..." GIVES ME NIGHTMARES. and overall, not everything needs a live adaptation yk? sometimes things just have to stay the way they are.
3. ...this is a bit contrevertial.and i don't want to sound like a hater since i've said this a multiple times before but Rohan's pov was my least favourite in the grandest games. Purely bcs whatever Savannah and Rohan had going on...don't get me wrong, i like Savannah (even tho she did and said some fucked up things) and Rohan, SEPERATLY. But them being together...idk man, they were too..."booktokish" for my liking, yk? and i do love banter and teasing, but they were like basic "i like you but i like winning more" "couple". Not to mention they were so random...like where did they come from? I remember when we first saw Sav and Rohan having the same symbols on their cards i was very excited, i expected a different dynamic between them...PLUS THE WHOLE GAME THEY JUST WANTED TO FUCK💀
4. Hating Alisa Ortega and loving Grayson Hawthorne is CRAZYYY, and i'm saying this bcs they're pretty similar in different ways. And the thing is people are mad at Alisa for "saying mean words to Libby" (she was literally doing her job, you would understand if you were at her place) MEANWHILE GRAYSON LITERALLY THREATENED A HEIRESS! (sayin this as a Gray stan) *sigh* y'all are something else🤦🏻‍♀️.
5. Ohh...this one is risky...BUT CAN Y'ALL STOP ACTING LIKE JAMESON IS BLAMELESS?? all i see is Grayson slander, AND I UNDERSTAND, he fucked up, but saying "Jameson was so much better than Grayson" is a lie, at least for me. (He was better for Avery tho) he fs made mistakes that fandoms chooses to ignore. Like lets not act like treating Avery like a toy wasn't wrong. Lets not act like him blaming Grayson for everything wasn't wrong. Let's not act like him reminding Grayson of Emily's death wasn't wrong. And i know that later on both him and Grayson had a great character development, but still, i've never seen anyone talk about this.
6. This isn't about tig. But LIKING JLBS WORK AND BEING HER FAN DOESN'T MEAN YOU'RE GLAZING HER💀 (talking about an argument i had a while ago...) like is it so hard for your brain to understand that it's called having an opinion. Idc if it's JLB or any other author, okay? Like i've read almost every Jlb's books and i love them, AND i also publicly talk about how much iblove her work, does that mean i'm glazing her? UHM NO WTF💀.
7. LET. PEOPLE. HAVE. PREFRENCE. (I'm talking about ships btw) . Someone prefers LyraGray over Averyjameson, and that's okay. Someone loves Averyjameson the most, and that's also okay, someone likes Libbynash more then Xandermax, AND THAT IS ALSO OKAY.
I'll probably do part 2, i have more to say i'm just really tired rn.
Also it's not proof read so sorry if there are many mistakes.
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stusbunker · 24 hours
Text
Spotless: Animato
Chapter Thirty Four
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Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader
Other characters: Gibson Child OMC, Bobby, Annie, Victor, Charlie, both bands and roadies, nameless DJs
Word Count: 3160
Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, still unbeta'd, the last of Uncle Dean for a while, drinking and mild drug use, smoking cigarettes (do not come at me for this), Kevin calling Dean out publicly but subtly.
Series Masterlist
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The rapid beat of a double-stroke roll woke Dean from the haze of sleep. He cracked one eye open and found the source of the wake up call. Gibson, sitting on the floor in Dean’s suite, was wailing on the coffee table while watching a random infomercial on the hotel’s tv’s world class Sunday morning programming. At least the little dude hadn’t gotten into Dean’s guitars without asking. 
“Gibby! What gives, man?”
“Oh, sorry,” the little boy didn’t even look back, instead he lightened his efforts into a tapping from the original knocking.
Dean huffed and fell back onto his pillow, muttering to himself and the ceiling, “I guess we’re up for the day.”
They had spent the night watching old monster movies and eating pizza. Dean had even taken Gibson to the hotel’s pool for a dip before the adult only hours kicked in. He had no idea how Pam and Lee kept up with the kid on a normal day, Dean was fucking beat. And that was after he slept more than double his usual night’s rest. 
How was it after nine already?! No wonder the kid was bored.
“You hungry? Probably should see if the buffet’s still going,” Dean asked suddenly.
“Okay!” Gibson dropped his sticks on the coffee table and hopped up with the unbridled energy of youth.
“Yeah, uh, I gotta throw some real pants on, dude.” Dean dragged himself to the edge of the bed and rolled his back. “Give Uncle Dean a minute and we can head down.”
Gibson nodded, but then ran to the counter in the kitchenette. “I made you coffee! They’ve got the little cups. But that was a while ago.”
Dean raised his eyebrow and surveyed the damage from his perch on the bed. “You make one for yourself?”
“Yep! It was gross. And the pink sugar didn’t help.”
“Yeah, well, that’s because it is gross. White or brown are best— no matter what Uncle Sam says.”
Gibson giggled, walking carefully over to Dean with the paper cup sloshing slightly. Dean wanted to help him, but he looked so proud of himself that Dean just sat back and clenched his hands as he awaited the delivery.
“Thanks, buddy,” Dean diligently took a sip. It was god awful. Cold, sure, but also really bitter and thin. Thankfully the kid didn’t think to add anything for him. He sighed and took another gulp while trying not to breathe and taste it more. “Uh—-yeah. Can’t start the day without some fuel.”
“You like it?”
“Yeah, man, of course. Now, I am gonna get dressed, find your shoes so we can get some grub.”
Turned out, the continental breakfast was already being cleaned up when they got back downstairs. Gibson’s spirits dropped instantly, but Dean assured him it was alright, and took the little man over to the attached restaurant that was hopping with the brunch crowd. 
“Look who the cat dragged in!” Bobby’s voice caught Dean’s attention as they rounded the corner with the hostess. “Make room. Miss— these idjits are with us, sorry they don’t have any manners about showing up on time.”
“Alright, I’ll— uh, I’ll let your server know.”
Dean had the wherewithal to murmur and hand over his thanks and apologies right in time to get a surprised smile. Kevin and Annie were on Bobby’s right while Sam and a very hungover looking Victor filled out the left side of the six person table.
“Rough night?” Dean teased.
“It aint over yet,” Victor lamented.
“Ooof! Been there, man. More bacon’ll help.”
Just then their server returned with two extra chairs and a busser slid in two extra place settings for them. “Thank you— thank you both. Seriously.”
“Of course, let me get you some menus.” Then the server disappeared in a flurry, weaving through the crowd of people in various states of dress and sobriety.
Kevin nudged Gibson with his elbow. “How was the sleepover at Dean’s? I bet he snores.”
Everyone around the table laughed.
“Bite me, Kev. Gibby, steal me one of his fries would ya?”
Gibson looked back and forth between the two men. “What?! No.”
Dean just shrugged. “He deserved it.”
“Two wrongs don’t make it alright,” Gibson told him knowingly.
“Yeah, UNCLE DEAN,” Sam butted in.
“From the mouths of babes,” Annie said, shaking her head in amusement. 
Kevin just laughed and took an obnoxious Dean-sized bite of fries.
“So— last day on tour until school’s out, what do you want to do today?” Bobby asked the star of the table.
“Is Mom and Dad awake? I want to see them ‘fore Grammy comes and gets me.”
“And you will, dude. I’m guessing they’re just up in their rooms getting dressed or something. It’s still early yet.”
“What timezone are you in?!” Bobby gave Dean the stink eye.
Dean ignored his manager and just ruffled Gibson’s hair. The menus appeared and they all settled in for another hour of each other’s company. 
        Dean knew it had to be hard for Gibson when they were on tour, he’d lived his own childhood with his dad barely there. But to have both parents out of reach for months at a time seemed worse. That’s why they made sure to give Pam and Lee breaks on the road, fly them home for three days at a time when they could. And they let Gibson come along when he didn’t have school.
It still felt like a worse case scenario though. He didn’t even have a little brother to make the days go by faster. Lee’s mom and their nanny were all he had outside of school friends. And the dogs. At least the kid got pets too.
Dean never did.
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“Full House, bitches!” Charlie declared and threw her cards into the center of the table. “Jacks over twos.”
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Madison exclaimed, leaning in to inspect Charlie’s hand herself. She’d tagged along with Lee’s mom down to San Diego so she could join in on the Vegas leg of the trip. 
“She always pulls it out, I swear to god. I don’t know how, but she does,” Sam muttered and tossed his hand to Dean to shuffle for the next round.
They were an hour into the trip to Vegas and the mood on the bus was contagious. No more little ears and eyes to worry about, meant that the bottles and the bongs came out and the chips were stacked high across the tiny table. 
“Alright, alright, fair hand. Get your cards in, and maybe you can win some of them stacks back. If you’re lucky,” Dean taunted, collecting the rest of cards and sliding them back into a deck to be shuffled. “Trouble? Ante up.”
You tossed your share into the pot and took another sip of your drink. Dean felt your eyes on him as he dealt, bottom lip between his teeth in concentration. Technically, he knew everyone was watching him as he doled the next hand, but your attention felt heavier the last few days. Maybe you knew something he wasn’t ready for you to know.
Maybe you were waiting for him to fuck up again.
Or maybe it was all just wishful thinking and you weren’t really watching him at all. Either way, he was preoccupied with it all when he picked up his cards to find absolute trash.
“Oh Christ. I’m going to need more to drink. KEVIN! Another round of shots, if you don’t mind?”
You chuckled. “Dealer can’t deal to himself, huh?”
“Apparently not,” Dean muttered, not even bothering to pick up his cards again.
“More chances for the rest of us at least,” Madison pointed out and placed her call bet.
The afternoon turned into night while Bobby drove on. Games and ridiculousness ensued. Just when they stopped for dinner, Dean found himself in the playful overlap of drunk and stoned. 
He hummed a few bars of some pop number that was playing over the truckstop speakers and Kevin joined in in harmony as they trudged across the parking lot to the twenty four hour diner. Lee came in for the chorus and they started getting louder and sillier with it, doing the monkey walk with Dean in the middle of the two shorter guys.
Dean couldn’t hear the radio station any longer, but they carried it along, finishing the number strong while guessing at some of the lyrics. When everyone had reached the double doors of the restaurant, he caught you and Charlie with your phones up recording the shenanigans. Meanwhile, Sam and Madison were giggly, leaning a little heavier on one another than most people would be at just after seven at night.
“Alright, cool it you damn buffoons. Let’s see if they’ve got room for everyone,” Bobby grunted before disappearing inside.
“Looks like you guys are the fun bus!” Donna greeted, as SPS and company caught up with them.
“Just gettin’ started darlin’,” Dean drawled, nodding and smirking. “Though I doubt it’s all charades and crochet on Big Bertha over there either.”
Jody took a swig off of her flask. “Oh, fuck no. Nancy knits, but that’s about it. But that’s only when the Adderall kicks in.”
She dangled the metal bottle out towards the circle of waiting musicians in offering. Kevin and Pam both took a pull and passed it back. Then the equipment rig pulled in and the headcount shot up even more. Benny sauntered over with a knowing glint in his eye as he stepped right in between Dean and Donna. 
“We think we gettin’ in or gotta spread out to the fast food joints?”
“Hard to say, looks pretty dead in there, but that might mean there’s a small staff too,” you answered as everyone’s head craned to look inside.
“Alright, well I’m heading over to the cancer section until we hear one way or the other,” Jody nodded towards Annie and Patience smoking down the sidewalk. 
Dean perked up and followed her like an earnest puppy. He wasn’t a habitual smoker anymore, but he definitely still imbibed, especially on the road. Sam’s influence could only go so far. But oddly, you were trailing along behind him, followed by Jesse and a newer, yet awkward roadie that he’d only heard called Chief.
You actually pulled a pack out of your purse and held one out to Dean expectingly. “What?” you asked like an accusation.
“Are you just smoking because you’d knew I would be or—?”
You exhaled your first pull and offered him your lighter. “It’s been a fucking week, okay? Let me have this until we hit the states with actual vegetation and I have to deal with allergies too.”
Dean lit his cigarette nodding and blew out a smoke ring. “You don’t have to justify it to me, I was just checking I’m not the bad influence.”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re always a bad influence, doesn’t mean I still didn’t choose it.”
That got him a little hot, if he was being honest. And he felt his smile all the way to the tips of his ears. “Damn, Trouble. Always knocking me back on my heels, you know that?”
You took another drag and shrugged, looking around to see everyone else somehow in their own conversations. “Part of the job.”
“Nah, that parts all you.” Dean said without even meaning to.
You looked up at him and gave him a little squint. “You need to eat something or you’re gonna be miserable in a couple hours.”
“I’m trying!” He huffed, gesturing with his cigarette towards the front doors, right as Bobby made his glorious return.
“Listen up!” Bobby glanced around at the bands and accumulated crew. “They’ve only got room for thirty folks, so line up and whoever is stuck at the back’s gotta find something else. We’re pulling out of here no later than ten o’clock, so be on time or be left behind.”
You chuckled over the hard-learned line.
Dean sucked a deep pull off his cigarette, trying to speed through it and getting lightheaded in the process. 
“Uh,” he exhaled and looked over at you then over you towards the rest of businesses in the travel center. “We trying to get in or we taking a walk?”
“I’m finishing my square.” You pointed to yourself and held up your cigarette.
Dean couldn’t get over your sass tonight. “Alright, then. A walk it is.”
It ended up with Jody and Patience sticking around while you and Dean finished smoking and then all four of you headed to the Arby’s across the parking lot. 
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“Alright, folks, we got a quick segment at the end to wrap things up. Phantom Traveler, are you ready to ‘Hit It or Quit It’?” the gruffer DJ asked them from his chair across the room.
They barely all fit in the little sound booth, but managed to squeeze together to make it work. Lee, Pam and Kevin were on the three stools they provided, while Dean and Sam hovered over them to get at the shared mic. It was six o’clock in the morning and Dean didn’t know if any of them had even slept. But there they were anyway.
“It is five questions we ask in rapid succession and you just say the first thing that comes to mind. And since all five of you are here, we’ll just go down the line— or clockwise I guess,” the younger DJ explained.
“I’m game!” Dean exclaimed, futsing with the ball cap on his head.
Pamela, who was holding the mic, winked. “Let’s hear ‘em, boys.”
The DJs laughed. “Alright, Pamela’s ready. First question: Who’s got the craziest ex’s of the band?”
Everyone ‘Oh’d!’.
Lee leaned in and said deeply into the mic. “I’m sitting right here!” 
“Couldn’t have planned that one any better!” Dean teased.
“Wait! I want to hear the answer though!” Kevin butted in, steering them back on track.
“NEW KID doesn’t know these things yet!” The first DJ said excitedly.
“Oh, this is too easy, though,” Pam rumbled.
“Yeah, sorry, bro, everyone knows this one,” Dean tacked on.
“Eat me,” Sam snapped back.
“But yeah, it’s Sammy for sure,” Lee agreed.
Sam rolled his eyes but the DJs just ate it up.
“Okay! Second question is—- for—- Lee! Favorite venue you’ve ever played?”
“Seriously? He gets a real question and I got a Cosmo question?” Pamela said, annoyed, but not quite into the mic.
“Seriously— I’m just reading off the list,” the younger DJ promised, holding up a clip board.
“That one’s easy— Harvelle’s back home.”
“Hands down,” Sam agreed.
“Best burgers in Nebraska, too,” Dean tacked on.
“Ellen’s gonna kill you,” Pam warned.
“Totally worth it,” Dean shot her down.
“Yeah. Nothing like playing for your hometown,” Lee finished.
“What a bunch of saps!” The older guy teased. “Okay, okay, I’ll let you have it. Sam— third question: Who would you still like to collaborate with? You’ve got Annie Hawkins on the latest album, you’ve played with some of the greats at some special events— I know you all were close with the late, great Rufus Turner and now you’re touring with his granddaughter’s band Sheriffs, Psychics and Secretaries. Who else?”
“Uh, honestly? I’d kill to play with Sarah and Provenance, even though our sounds are totally different. Maybe Mick Davies? Especially now that he’s left Men of Letters, I am looking forward to what he works on next.”
“Wow— those are not names I expected to come up today. But, yeah, okay— always the wildcard Sam Winchester!” The younger DJ seemed genuinely surprised and maybe even impressed.
Dean could tell it annoyed Sam, but he was always way smarter than anybody gave his bodybuilder-shaped self credit for.
“DEAN! Question numero four: If you weren’t a rockstar— okay, musician– what would you be doing?”
“Right now I’d be sleeping, that’s for damn sure.”
Everyone laughed and nodded. “I don’t blame you there, but for a job?”
Dean scratched his three day stubble. “I always say I’d have made a killer mechanic or car restorer, but, uh, honestly at this point in my life I’m going to go with firefighter.”
“Nice, very heroic.” The first DJ approved.
“Dude!” Sam gave him a look that asked if he was alright.
Dean shrugged. “Well, hopefully we won’t have to find out. Just a reminder we’ve got two shows at Cesar’s Palace tomorrow night and Wednesday!” he plugged like they needed help selling tickets.
“Which are completely sold out! We’ve got tickets for our listeners tomorrow morning at seven, eight and nine if you listen for the code to play.” The younger DJ picked up where Dean left off. “One more question and you guys can get on with your days. And it’s for Kevin Tran— the newest member of the band, stepping up for the now reclusive Cas Novak. Fifth and final question!---”
Dean flinched at Cas’ name coming up, but all things considered, it could have been a much more brutal comment. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw Bobby whisper something to you through the glass in the adjoining room.
“In one word describe your bandmates.”
“One word total or—?”
“One word a piece,” Sam clarified.
“Yeah one word total. Band. That’d be the worst question answered ever,” the first DJ joked.
“Okay, okay, I got it. For Pam I’ll say ‘badass’. Lee’s word will be ‘groovy’. Sam gets ‘salad’ and Dean can have ‘Trouble’.”
“Oh, fuck,” Lee actually had to cover his mouth. While everyone else just about choked on their own spit. 
Dean glared at the kid, but didn’t say anything, counting down from twenty in his head.
“It is going to be a very long tour, folks,” Sam tried to ease some of the tension, clearly the DJs did not get the significance of what was just said.
“Alright that is a wrap with Phantom Traveler, in town for just a few days on the start of their latest tour. Thank you guys, it was a blast. Their fifth album drops next month. You guys have been digging the new single, so we’re gonna close with that as we get these guys on their way.”
The intro to ‘Baby’ played in the background as everyone handed over their headphones and shook the DJs' hands. Their marketing people came in for some quick publicity shots. Dean spotted you getting matching angles, where you stood behind their photographer, for the band’s socials.
God, he wasn’t ready. He had no idea if you caught what Kevin had said or if you knew he was really talking about you. The little punk had to go and say that shit on air of all places. 
One thing was for sure, Dean’s time was running out. Sooner or later somebody was going to let it slip and it wasn’t fair to you to hear it from anyone but him. Now, he just had to figure out how.
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Tagging:
@deans-spinster-witch
@mrswhozeewhatsis
@cosicas-cuquis
@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like
@suckitands33
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@n-o-p-e-never
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meraki-yao · 1 day
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RWRB Book Thoughts: Ellen and Oscar
Re-reading RWRB and thinking about Oscar and Ellen. The thing is book Ellen and Oscar's relationship scares me because it's like the worst-case scenario of my own parents (they're a lot better now but covid was hell) So I understand it.
Ellen and Oscar are soulmates. As in they are both intelligent, stubborn and headstrong. They are very similar people. Unfortunately this is a case where it's like forcefully pushing two North ends of a magnet together: Ellen in particular wants and needs a complimentary relationship instead of collaborative relationship, which is why Leo works for her: Leo is meek compared to Oscar. He really just listens and generally agrees with Ellen. His appearances are limited in the book but when he does show up he doesn't really have his own opinion. Ellen wants/needs someone who won't speak up against her.
Honestly? I, kinda feel sad for Oscar. He said it himself, "We're both too fucking proud. But God, that woman. Your mother is, without question, the love of my life. I'll never love anyone else like that." It's sad to know that he never stopped loving Ellen while vice versa isn't true, and to know that she's it for Oscar.
When it comes to parenting I honestly think Oscar is the better parent. It was really shitty of him to leave without telling Alex and June and that evidently really hurt Alex til this day, but when it comes to the other parent things? I was re-reading/listening to Chapter Four today when he goes to DC for Christmas, and both Alex and June are so much more comfortable with him. Part of that is probably because he doesn't carry the inherent pressure of being the fucking president, but part of it is that he really cares about his kids as they are. Ellen downplays June's passion for journalism and pressures her into a political job that she didn't want at all, while Oscar "raved about June's latest blog post for The Atlantic". Ellen immediately started piling up all the political consequences of firstprince literally minutes after Alex plucked up the courage to come out to her while Oscar gave him relationship advice. This isn't to say Ellen isn't a good mother, she is flawed, as Oscar is, as all parents are. But if we're looking at non-crisis moments, Oscar's actions are more comfortable for his children.
There's a reason June initially wanted to go to California and be close to her dad. Yesterday I talked a little about how I hated how Ellen and Alex treated June at the earlier chapters of the book. Well in the rest of the book it's implied that she has a much closer relationship with Oscar, jumping into his arms when he arrives at the White House, him picking her up and spinning her when they arrive at the lakehouse.
Either way, Ellen and Oscar clash becasue they're too alike, and my opinion is that Ellen tends to fan the flames more, see Christmas dinner where Oscar suggests campaigning with them to help and she immediately shoots it down with "you can't be serious". Anyways, the children suffer the most. And uh, speaking from experience here, that shit never goes away. My parents are still together and are a lot better compared to the past, but I flinch at any sound of argument/angry yelling because of all of their fighting.
And there's this one paragraph in the book: "Even before Alex's parents split, they both had a habit of calling him by the other's last name when he exhibited a particular trait. They still do. When he runs his mouth off to the press, his mom called him into her office and says ' get your shit together Diaz.' When his hard-headedness gets him stuck, his dad texts him, 'Let it go, Claremont'" and God that's so shitty? To know, to be reminded that one parent hates the part of you that is from the other parent. Even if that's not what Ellen and Oscar's intention is, that's what it feels like, and it's really, fucking, shitty.
I wonder how would book Alex feel if he know that there was an alternative universe out there where his family was functional. I wonder how would he feel if he knew that movie Alex doesn't have his loving sister, but has loving, gentle parents who have a healthy, functional relationship.
My guess, is that he would say that he'd choose his life and his sister no matter what, and he means it because he does love June, but deep down a part of him would be jealous of movie Alex for having a smaller but healthier and happier family.
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⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹ The College Basketball Star!Chenle x Black!Cheerleader!Reader Chronicles ⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹
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A/N: CHENLE STANS COME GET Y’ALL’S JUICE! Me and my besties are seeing the Dreamies tomorrow so I figured I’d hammer this one out real quick (I finished this @ like 4 am on Tuesday so this was queued to post on Dream()Scape Eve🤣) It’s not much but it’s honest work. I’ve been wanting a tutor trope fic for a while so I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone and just have the reader as Chenle’s tutor on some scholar type shit. And I’ve never written smut where the reader is more dominant SO BE NICE TO ME!!! Per usual, WwaBRiM but everybody [18+ AND UP *MDNI*] can read!
Content: Semi-public sex, sub!Chenle, dom!reader, dirty-talk, unprotected sex, reader is a grinderrr (o-o-o-o-o-ohhh), creampie, idk just filth?
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The greatest thing to happen to you at university outside of joining cheer team, was getting that little corner office spot for tutors to use that just so happened to be in the back of your campus’ big ass library. Sure there were other tutors on campus, but they always met at coffee shops on or off site and in their dorm rooms. So the corner office became your domain with a key and everything for you to come and go as you please, no matter the hours.
And once Chenle found out, that became a problem.
10:45 PM on a Thursday night and you’re trying your hardest to be discreet about the actions taking place and the man writhing beneath you. “Ughh Fuck, if you keep bouncing on my dick like that I’m gonna cum”. Taking Chenle’s warning, you brace your hands on his shoulders, slowing your pace as you straddle the struggling athlete sitting with his back against the cold wall. “Oh my god yes, yes, that’s so good keep doi- Ahhh!” You can’t help but giggle at the needy state of your boyfriend and his shameless moans as you clench around him with each raise of your hips. “Wow my pussy’s just taking all of you today, huh?” You figured you’d never get him in another comatose submissive state like this again so you have to take advantage of your power trip. “Yes, baby yes you take me so fucking well oh my gooodddd~” he admits between gritted teeth, his head lolling to the side, “Aww, what’s wrong baby?” you lean into the man, your mouth right next to his ear.
Letting his actions speak for him, Chenle grabs your ass as if to forcibly fuck you onto him. You tsk at him, stalling your movements completely and staring him down in a playfully reprimanding manner. “Nooo? Come on love, you do this to me all the time remember?” Chenle drops his hands from your ass in defeat, looking almost like he wanted to cry. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking needy?” “Mnnn~” You start to grind, paaaainfully slow, hiking your already wrinkled skirt impossibly higher up your waist. “Come on baby, just tell me what you want me to do.” His eyes glaze over as he meets your gaze, longingly and full of yearning. Almost as if praying that being on the verge of tears was enough for you. As much as you liked when Chenle surrendered himself to your mercy, you knew that he was still hard to break and those glassy eyes were the most you’d possibly ever get. And honestly? You’ll take it.
Still in a kneeled straddling position, you plant one of your feet on the ground to have some leverage, the other leg remaining kneeled. Chenle’s breath becomes shaky with anticipation, and you smile at him sinisterly. “What do you want me to do, Chenle. Hm?” You finally sink back down onto his length, swiveling around until he bottomed out beneath you. He couldn’t help but moan at the sensation as you begin to pick up the pace. “Is this what you wanted?” “Ohhhh~” “Ohhh does my pussy feel that good to you?” You couldn’t help but mock him a little, “Yes it feels soo good~ughhh~” You begin to bounce on him full force, the lewd sounds of your skin colliding filling your office “Oh fuckkk yeah you like when I ride you like this?” “Uh huh!” “You like when I fuck you on the floor in my office? Huh?” “Yessss Yes I do! Fuck! I can’t-” You don’t let up, snaking a hand into his hair to tug at it, making him look you in the eyes right before putting him out of his misery. “I can’t I’m gonna c-” “Aww you’re gonna cum for me?” “Yesss oh my god I’m gonna fucking cum~” You lean into his ear again, “Then do it. Cum. Cum for me right fucking now. Cum inside of me right now. Cum for me, come for me, c-” Chenle begins to cry out and you moan as you feel him release in you, covering his mouth as you continue to ride him, tears streaming down his face. Muffled curses escape his mouth as you bounce on him, pushing him to a point of sensitivity, your juices mixed with his cum trickling down the length of his cock and pooling at the base, messing up both of your inner thighs. You finally slow to a stop, removing your hand from his mouth. Chenle lets out a labored sigh of relief and you can’t help but giggle at him. “Thank you, I really needed that,” “I know, that’s why I did it….you’re welcome”. You fix yourself to start getting up, but Chenle grabs your hips holding you in place on him. “Just stay like this for a sec.” “Why do you always have to-” “Shhhh” moments later, he pulls out of you as cum slowly leaks out of your cunt. You smile, shaking your head at him as you both clean each other and help the other get redressed. “Okay so be honest with me,” “Alright?” “Why exactly did you start coming to the tutoring office all of a sudden?” you wait for a valid response as Chenle starts fidgeting with things on your desk, “The coach said I need to bring up my grade in my Statistics course.” He doesn’t. He got a 96% and 100% on his most recent statistics quiz and exam respectively. “Oh you fucking liar!”
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okminer07 · 3 days
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A Growing Problem Pt 2
This is a shorter part than I planned to post, but I really wanted to give y'all an update and let you know I'm still working on this. Hopefully 3rd part will come soon.
Lily stepped through the door frame, looking around curiously for him. Clearly, she had been expecting him to be right at the front door to meet her. It didn’t take long however for her eyes to land on Jeremy, the elephant-sized elephant in the room.  
She let out a yelp at the sight of him, her hands immediately dropping the paper bag she had been carrying to fly up and cover her mouth in horror. Her eyes looked ready to pop out of her skull as she looked him over. He looked grimly back at her, panic rising when she backed away a step. 
“Don’t go.” he pleaded, “Please, don’t go.”  
At the sound of his voice, a sort of realization filled Lily’s eyes, “J-Jeremy?”  she looked him over again, still gaping, “Wha- how-”  
“I don’t know.”  
“You're…. You're…” she stepped closer, “You’re huge!”  
“You think I haven’t noticed?!” he bellowed, gesturing down at himself. 
Lily recoiled slightly, “B-but how?” 
“I don’t know! It-it just happened!”  
She held up her hands, “Okay! Could you please try and calm down?” 
“Calm down? Calm down?!” he got off his hands and knees and sat up, “Look at me!”  
Lily’s mouth dropped, backing away. Her raised hands were shaking. 
Jeremy faltered, guilt tugging at his heart at seeing her reaction. He slouched over, “I’m…. I’m sorry.” he looked pleading down at her. God, she looked so diminutive, “I….. I didn’t mean to… I don’t know what’s happening.” 
She lowered her hands, tilting her head, “did you think I would?” 
He waved a hand in exasperation, “I don’t know. Maybe. I just had no idea what to do. Have you ever seen or heard of anything like this?” 
“N-no” she breathed, “I’ve never…..” she stepped closer, scrutinizing him, “I’ve never seen anything like this.”  
As she got closer, Jeremy felt his face heating up. Lily wasn’t tall herself, far from it. It was something people often teased her about. The last time he asked about her height she had told him 4’11, but even that seemed a little generous. Still, it shocked him to see that even sitting he was taller than her. What the hell was this?  
His stomach growled loudly and his whole face went scarlet as Lily jumped back. He clamped a hand over it, looking back at her sheepishly. Why wouldn’t it shut up?!
“I….. I think we should maybe get some food in you.” She looked around the room, her eyes landing on the paper bag on the floor. She snatched it up and dug out a maple bar which she held up to him. He slowly raised his hand and took it, put off by the fact it was the size of a granola bar to him.  
Lily backed away as he ate the whole thing in one bite, “Okay.” she breathed, “Okay, we- we need to get you to a hospital or something.” she began to pace, “The closest one is what? A forty-five-minute drive? Because I really don’t think the clinic is what we need for uh… for this. I saw your Grandma’s truck outside. We could probably fit you in the boot? Yeah, that would work. And then-” 
Jeremy began to tune out her rambling. He licked his fingers clean of any glaze left from the maple bar while he eyed the fridge. 
“But what are they even going to do? Maybe take a look at your pituitary gland? But that would require an MRI and that would-” 
“Hey, Lily?” She paused and looked up at him, “I’m sorry but uh…. Can you grab me something out of the fridge or pantry?”   
She looked to her left and into the kitchen, her eyes landing on the torn-off cabinet door. 
“Did….. did you do that?” 
His cheeks went pink as he nodded. 
“Oh uh…. Sure thing.” 
“Thanks” he murmured as she headed over to the fridge. The floorboards creaked under his weight as he leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. Surely they’d get this all figured out. Hell, there was still even the chance this was all a bad- 
“Ack!” Jeremy flinched. A small bolt of burning pain had shot its way up his spine before it vanished. His hands flew back behind to rub the length of it.
Lily had rounded on him the moment he had shouted, clutching tightly to the carton of milk she had found, “Are you okay?”  
“Yeah. yeah, I think so,” he slapped a hand to his forehead, sighing and shaking his head, “I just thought- AUGHH!” 
That same burning pain erupted within his chest. Jeremy screamed, falling to the floor and clutching his chest as the pain spread. His eyes watered as it made its way to his arms and legs which twisted and convulsed, his hands and heels slamming into the floor as they writhed in agony. He couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe. All he could think about was this abhorred sensation, this familiar sensation of every fiber of his being ripped apart while his ears were filled with the sickening sound of cracking and his own screams.  
It stopped. Just like before, all the pain disappeared within an instant.   
Jeremy’s chest rapidly rose and fell as he gasped for air, his heart was still beating like he had run a marathon. Beads of sweat trickled down his face. He removed his clammy hand from his chest to wipe his face, rolling over onto his back as he did. The floorboards creaked loudly beneath him. Staring up at the ceiling, he couldn’t help but feel like it looked different, closer.   
Lily, Lily was still here.  
“Lily?” he groaned. He pushed himself to sit up, “Lily? Wha- ack!” The top of his head smacked into something before he fully sat up. Oh no.   
He laid back down and stared up in horror at the ceiling that was definitely much closer. It felt like acid was creeping up his throat as it slowly began to dawn on him. When he had first felt that pain, what had happened? He had shot up a good five feet. Which could only mean…  
Jeremy slowly heaved himself up onto his elbows, shaking as his eyes landed on his own body. His heart plummeted into his stomach as his mouth fell open. What had been his shirt and shorts were now nothing but a few ripped-up scraps that clung loosely to his body. The only thing in tack on him now was somehow his boxers, but even those felt and looked pretty snug. His legs stretched across the room and were mere inches away from the front door. The umbrella stand that stood nearby was barely taller than the barefoot up next to it.    
“No, no no no no no,” he began to backpedal away from the door, his limbs trembling and fumbling around, “T-this isn’t- this isn’t-” he let out a panicked yelp when his hand accidentally came down upon one of the chairs around the dinner table. It instantly snapped and when he wrenched his hand up it was nothing but a broken mess of wood, “This isn’t- not again!”  
He whipped his head around the cramped space, finding it harder and harder to breathe the more he saw. This was insane! This wasn’t happening!   
Jeremy suddenly froze, his eyes landing upon a small figure crumpled on the floor, pressed up against the kitchen cupboards. Lily.   
The look on her face made his stomach churn. All the color had drained from her face, so pale she could have been mistaken for a corpse if she weren’t trembling and her eyes weren’t so alert.   
He looked himself over again, grimacing at the sight before hugging his legs up to himself and burying his head between his knees. “W-what’s happening to me?” his eyes began to water. He inhaled sharply, a tear streaking down his cheek that was quickly followed by another and then another.  
Within seconds, his face became a snot and tear-covered mess as he began to sob. He couldn’t stop himself, and it felt like the only thing he really could do.   
“I-I-I-I’m some sort of freak!” he wailed, voice cracking. He began grabbing at chunks of his hair, nails digging into his scalp deeper and deeper as he bailed his eyes out.  
“Jeremy?”  
He peeked between his legs through blurry eyes. Lily was now standing a few feet away, her hands raised as she inched closer. His eyes widened and he scooted away, shaking his head. 
She continued to come closer, “It’s okay. J-just calm down.” He gulped down another wave of sobs as she approached him, growing more and more unnerved at the sight of her standing before him, barely able to peek over his knees and see his face.  
Her hands came up and he suppressed the shiver that ran through him as they made contact with his face. He struggled to remain frozen while gazing into her soft eyes.  
“Breathe, okay? Just breathe” He did as he was told, averting his gaze and focusing in on his breathing. Gradually, his heart began to slow. It never stopped murmuring, but it at least didn’t feel like it was going to burst out of him, “Jeremy?” He forced himself to look Lily in the eye, his chest tightening at the sight of her so close, “It's… it’s gonna be okay, okay?” He heaved a sigh, she didn’t say that with much confidence. 
“W-what am I supposed to do?”  
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frogwithgun · 3 days
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Omg what is happening guys?
Y'all loved part one so much lol
So screw it part two here!
Anyways enjoyyyyy
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"Dad come on! You've been sitting here forever." Nanako said, attempting to push Geto off the couch. Why was he on the couch anyways?
Great question.
See, Geto had the rare opportunity to meet the CEO of Six Eyes Inc.. Where he failed to recognize that unmistakable face and charm. And then got asked for his number. Which would have been a dream come true for the man.
The girls know from all those hours he'd spend watching interviews about Gojo Satoru that he had a celebrity crush of some sorts. So he should have been elated to give out his number! And he would have as well.
If he hadn't told him that he doesn't give out his number while working. "No. Let me die here." Mimiko came along and together the twins were able to push him off the couch and onto the floor. Still he didn't move.
"Dad come on! You need to go to work." Now they both tried to get him to sit up. And it wasn't easy to move him. So they just gave up. Making Geto hit his head on the hardwood floor. "Ow! Alright fine." He grumbled.
And that is how he found himself standing in front of that corner store wondering if he took a wrong turn. The store had been redesigned entirely. It looked expensive now. Jesus did they all want modern looks?
He brushed it off and walked inside. Stepping behind the register and into the break room. At least that was the same. The air conditioner still screamed in protest. The lights still flickered slightly. And the furniture was still broken.
Geto set his things down on the table carefully. He knew that slamming them down would make the table collapse. Whether that was from experience or not he wouldn't say.
He turned around and jumped. "JESUS CHRIST!" He cried and put a hand over his heart. The man who had snuck up on him looked far to formal to be there.
His hair was a almost perfect blonde. And he wore glasses that suited him well. His eyes were a shade of hazel that looked beautiful. And he wore a suit for some reason. The strangest part was that he had a gray suit, with a blue undershirt, and a yellow speckled tie.
Just what was going on? The man didn't smile. Nor did he laugh. He simple sighed. "Not Jesus. Nanami Kento." Geto nodded. Still slightly jumpy. Now he really was suspicious. "Uh hi? I'm Geto-" "Yes I know your name." Rude much? Geto thought to himself.
Nanami seemed to know what he was thinking. And chose to ignore it. "I am your new manager. Your place of work has been bought by Six Eyes Inc. and I have been chosen to oversee it. You report to me." This had to be some dream.
Or maybe it was a joke? Yeah that was probably it. Geto laughed and shook his head. "Alright, you got me. Hilarious." Geto started to gather his hair into a half bun. "Come on man, let's get to work." Nanami raised an eyebrow.
Then Geto stopped and mimicked him. "Stop that at once. You think I would joke about this?" Geto looked around the break room. Making a vague gesture around. "I mean, yeah." Nanami looked at the break room in disgust.
Then Nanami sighed. "You are not what I was expecting." He muttered. Geto nodded. The gauges in his ears were probably strike one. And the fact that he had lip piercings, an eyebrow piercing, and a septum piercing.
Of course that combined with the fact that he had a couple tattoos was probably what Nanami was talking about. "Are you in a gang or something?" Geto laughed and shook his head. "No. Just have a lot of tattoos." Nanami sighed.
This was going to be a headache.
---------------------
Yeah this is definitely a headache.
It had only been an hour into his shift and he's already had three customers complain about the quality of certain products. "Ma'am I just work here. I don't make the products." Despite that, none of them listened.
The only thing going for him was the fact that Nanami actually defended him. Unlike his previous manager. That was something going for him at least.
And Nanami happened to be rather observant as well. He could tell when a customer was about to blow up or when they were about to try and trick Geto. Which he did not stand for at all.
Nanami is terrifying.
---------------------------
"So Six Eyes inc., what's that like?" Geto was trying to make small talk with Nanami. And found it very difficult. "The CEO is a manchild and impulsive. He acts like he's 12 when he's 28. It's like he never grew up." Nanami said exasperated.
Geto nodded. I just wanted to know what it was like, not your whole life story. But ok I guess. "Oh that sounds bad." Nanami nodded. "It is. He's so immature and reckless. Honestly the only reason the company hasn't collapsed yet is because of me." I doubt it.
Geto felt like Nanami might hate Gojo. Just a little bit. "So why do you work there?" Nanami looked at him. Face blank. "Money." Well, at least he's straight forward? Nanami gave a slight huff and leaned his head back.
Still terrifying.
-----------------------
Ijichi jumps as the doors to the office slam open. A disheveled Gojo holding them open with a gleam in his eyes. "Ijichi!~" The man in question gulps. That sing song tone of voice is never a good sign. Not even when it's said in such a cheerful way.
Gojo strides into the room with a slight bounce in his step. "The store is mine now! So that means," he drums his fingers on the desk as he plops down into his plush leather chair, "he's my employee!"
Again, poor Ijichi cannot tell where this conversation is going. "Yes?" Gojo laughs and springs out of his chair. Striding over to Ijichi and tossing his arms around him. "Yes! That means I have an excuse to talk to him!" Because just talking to him like a normal person would be so hard. Ijich thinks to himself.
But he says nothing. To afraid of the white haired man to say anything other then "Yes sir." Which Gojo takes happily. "Now I just have to figure out how to get him in here." Ijichi looks at the still open doors.
So close, yet so far. "Ijichi! Don't run now! We were just getting started!~"Oh God he's trapped.
---------------
Three grueling hours later and Gojo has concocted a 'master plan'. And Ijichi is still staring longly at the now closed doors.
Gojo happily sits at his desk. Eating a lollipop. As he often does. In many interviews he has admitted to freely having a sweet tooth. He's more famous for it because of the amount of candy he eats in interviews.
Seriously it is a major problem. "Alrighty then! All I have to do is call him into my office and bada bing bada boom, we start dating." Of all plans Ijichi has ever heard, that one is probably the worst.
Scratch that, definitely the worst. "Sir do you even know anything about him?" Gojo puts a hand over his heart. "I am wounded! Of course I know about him! He's 6'3, has two daughters, works at the corner store I bought, and is the one."
"How do you know he has two daughters?" Gojo smiles. "He has hair on his work uniform. I imagine they like to hug him a lot. And the hair colors just didn't match his." Now Ijichi is just disturbed. "How long have you spent looking at him?"
Gojo waves his hand and turns away from Ijichi. "Oh just two or three years." He mumbles. And Ijichi just decides he'd rather ignore it then say something. "Sir you need to talk to him." Gojo rolls his eyes. "My good looks will talk for me."
--------------------
His good looks did not in fact talk for him.
He called Nanami and told him to bring Geto to his office. And now they are just staring at each other. Not saying a single word. And it's starting to look like Gojo might actually have to try.
"¥2,000 says Gojo fails and fucks it up." Nanami whispers to Ijichi. Who shakes his head. He's sure Gojo won't fuck it up. After all he's Gojo-
"You stupid prick! How could you?!" And he spoke to soon. Nanami holds his hand out to Ijichi who reluctantly hands over the money. "No I just meant that I could never because they're a waste of time!"
Oh Gojo is really fucking it up.
-----------------------
And here is part two! I'm sorry if this isn't written very well lol. English is very hard and I'm not the best with it. But I do hope you enjoy this shitty part two.
Lots of love tadpoles 💚💚💚
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lovelyjj · 1 day
Text
Treasure
jj maybank x reader
requested by @thornyrose463
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Being at your house was miserable. Your mom only seemed to care about her boyfriends and not you or your wellbeing. You hated being there because she was neglectful and an alcoholic. And it’s not like your dad was around, he left when you were 2. You only came to grab a few clothing items.
“Bye mom, have fun with your loser boyfriend, not that you care where I am,” you shouted as you walked out of your house carrying your clothes.
Arriving at John Bs you were happy to get away from your mom and be reunited with your friends who were more like family.
“Hey Y/N/N, we’re going out on the boat today to explore the reck.”
John B borrowed scuba gear from his boss Ward so that he can dive and explore the ship reck.
“Sounds good.”
You, Pope, Kie, JJ, and John B all got on the HMS pogue. Then you all drove into the marsh. You all were excited to find something in the wreck.
“This is empty. You took empty tanks?” Kiara said.
“I-“
“Okay, this one’s a quarter full. It’s enough for one of us,” Kiara stated.
“Love it when a plan comes together,” Pope chimed in.
“Does anybody know how to dive?” Kiara asked.
“Anybody?”
“It’s kinda a kook sport,” JJ commented.
“No I don’t,” you spoke.
“I read about it,” Pope argued.
“Great, Pope read about it, so someone’s gonna die.” Kiara spit out.
“Look, y-you put the thing in your mouth and breathe. How hard could it be?” JJ questioned.
“Well if you come up too fast, nitrogen gets into your blood, and you get the bends.” Pope explained.
“Bends like, bend over and…” JJ joked.
“The bends kill you,” Pope deadpanned.
“Right.”
“I can- I can dive.” John B volunteered.
“Yeah you can dive. I’m cool with that.” JJ confirmed.
“Since when can you dive?” Kiara asked.
“I’ll do it. It’s fine.”
“John B,” you were concerned.
“Y/N, it’s fine don’t worry i’m good.”
“Be careful,” you warned.
John B nodded and put on the gear to dive. He jumped into the water and was ready to swim down to the wreck. You were worried for your friend who was practically your brother.
While John B was down there you all above water herd a siren.
“Shit. JJ.” Pope yelled.
“Guys, that’s the police.” JJ pointed out.
“Oh my god,” you huffed.
“Oh, you got to be kidding me.”
“Yep, that’s the police.”
“Just act frickin’ normal,” Kiara instructed.
The police officers boat came up to the HMS pogue.
“Evening officers,” Pope greeted.
“Evening.”
“How you kids doing? You know the marsh is closed?” Shoupe said.
“No.”
“No. Wow.”
“I didn’t know that.” JJ lied.
“Why— why is it closed?” Pope asked.
“Well, we’re conducting a search out here. Boat went down.”
“Oh.”
“Seen anything?”
“No.”
“No boats. No.”
“Where’s your friend you always hang with? He here?” The police man asked.
“He’s working,” you answered.
“I’m gonna check your little boat out.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, hop aboard.”
“You wanna check— uh, check her out.” Pope invited.
“Thank you.”
Shoupe checked out your boat and made sure you had life jackets. He looked out into the open water for what felt like forever. Finally he said, “all right.”
“All right.”
“Beautiful day isn’t it.”
“Sure is.” JJ replied.
“Let us know if you see anything on your way out.”
“Will do,” you responded.
“We will be gone soon sir.”
“Yes you will.”
All four of you knew that John B had to of ran out of air by now. So as soon as the police were gone you leaned over the boat and looked out into the water searching for John B.
“There he is!”
“Oh god! Jesus Christ!”
John B emerged from the water and you let out a breath of relief you didn’t know you were holding.
“How’d it go down there? Did you find anything?” JJ asked.
“Did i find anything?”
John B climbed the later and hoisted the duffel bag he found onto the boat.
“Yeah, there we go! That’s my boy!”
“You okay?” You asked.
“Yeah, I ran out of air.”
“You scared the shit out of me.” You chuckled.
“Hey, guys? Guys, bogey, two o’clock.” Kiara warned.
“What?”
“Do you recognize that boat?”
“I’ve never seen it.”
“What are they doing back here the marsh is closed.” Kiara pointed out.
“I don’t know but let’s not stick around to find out,” JJ told everyone.
A boat with two men on it started coming your way. They started following you. Before you knew it they started shooting at you.
“Y/N get down!” JJ yelled.
JJ came up behind you and covered you with his body. Everyone crouched down and John B drove the boat as fast as he could from the floor of the boat.
“Oh my god we’re going to die,” Pope yelled covering his head.
Kiara got up and threw a fishing net into the water behind the HMS pogue. The net stopped the guys that were shooting at you because it got tangled in the gears. You all got away without being shot.
“Oh my god we’re alive,” you exclaimed.
“Pogue life man!” JJ yelled.
“That was insane,” Kiara added.
John B drove the boat back to the chateau. You all got out and stood on the dock. John B put the duffel bag on the floor and started opening it.
“What do you think it is?” Kiara asked.
“It’s got to be money or something right,” John B replied.
“Can we just open the bag already?” Pope said impatiently.
“Wow, Pope, that’s a rare outburst of emotion,” John B said.
“Okay. You guys are literally killing me with anticipation. Just open the bag, we almost died over this,” Pope ordered.
John B pulls out a metal tube and unscrews it. Then he dumps it out into his hand. It’s a gold compass.
“Oh, wow. Yup. That’s about right. Good job, everybody. We found a compass.” Pope said sarcastically.
John B was gaping at the compass. “Dude, what? It’s not worth anything,” JJ commented.
“This was my father’s,” John B whispered.
“No way,” you said surprised.
Nine months ago John Bs dad, Big John went missing. Some believe he got lost at sea. John B was in denial. He just knew his dad was out there somewhere, or so he desperately wanted to believe.
The next day John B remembered his dads office and went to go unlock it. You and the other pogues followed him confused.
John B grabbed a poster board and put it on top of a bin. “Here, look. This is the original owner, right here.” He pointed to a picture of an older man.
John B explained how the compass was passed down to many generations but they all ended up dying soon after they received the compass.
“Look, my dad used to talk about this compartment in here. Soldiers used to hide secret notes.”
“What’s that?” you asked.
“That wasn’t there before. This is my dad’s handwriting.”
“How can you know that?” Pope voiced his opinion.
“Because he does these weird Rs with the— see it?”
“Can I see it?” JJ asked.
“Red— Rout—“ JJ tried to sound it out.
“It says Redfield.” Kiara spoke.
“Right.”
“Okay well what’s Redfield?” You thought out loud.
“Beside the most common name in the county.” Pope deadpanned.
“Maybe it’s a clue. Maybe it’s a clue to where he’s hiding,” John B thought.
The same guys that chased you through the marsh showed up at the château. They took John Bs dads research.
After having a run in with the police twice John B was fed up. He took the family tree poster along with his other crap and set it on fire. After a moment he changed his mind and fished it out with a metal rod. Then he saw the name Olivia and he got an idea.
John B rounded up the gang and took you to the graveyard.
“You know how you’re trying to remember a song and can’t remember who sings it?” John B started.
“Yeah,” Kiara replied.
“So, Redfield. This whole time, I thought it was a place, right? But it’s not a place. It’s a person.”
“Voi-effing-là.” JJ hummed.
“See, my great-great-grandmother Olivia Redfield. That was her maiden name.”
The guys all tried to open the door but it wouldn’t budge.
“I can get through,” you stated.
“Y/N, no don’t do it,” JJ voiced his concern.
JJ was very protective of you. You and JJ have been dating for a long while now. JJ wouldn’t know what to do without you. He loved you like hell. He’d be lost without you. So if he lost you he would break. That’s why he did want you to do anything dangerous.
“Look this is about your dad, you deserve to know the truth. I’ll do it.” You expressed.
“Y/N.”
“JJ, i’ll be careful i promise.”
“Fine. I’m gonna boost you.”
“Remind me what we’re looking for,” You asked.
“You’ll know when you see it,” John B told you.
You stepped in JJ’s hands and he boosted you up and through the hole. You looked around and then you saw something. You picked up what looked like an envelope that said “For Bird.” You handed it to John B.
When you all got back to the château, John B opened the big envelope. Inside there was a map to the Royal Merchant, along with a tape recorder. John B played it.
“If somethin’ happens to me, finish what I started.” Big Johns voice rang through your ears.
John B was sobbing at the end of the recording so you did your best to comfort him. You squeezed him in a hug and told him you were sorry.
After looking up the coordinates on the map JJ had the idea of stealing a drone that can drop 1,000 feet from the salvage yard. You and the other pogues were successful in stealing the drone.
Once it was the right weather you all went out on Popes dads boat. You dropped the drone into the water as Kiara marked the feet as it was going down. When the drone reached the merchant reck there was no gold. Everyone was devastated.
——————
John B was running from DCS when he fell off his bike and tripped over a chain. Sarah Cameron found him and saw his scrap on his stomach. Sarah took him to her house at tannyhill.
As she’s is cleaning his wound, he asks, “Who, uh… who’s the dude on the wall?”
“Oh, it’s Denmark Tanny, founder of Tannyhill.” Sarah says.
“Founder?”
“Mm-hm.”
“So, how did a slave found a cotton plantation?”
“He was a free man. He’s kind of a mystery. He showed up out of nowhere and paid for all of the land around here in gold.” Sarah explained.
“In gold?”
“Mm-hm.”
John B stood up. “Hey, wh— i’m not finished, Sancho.” Sarah scolded.
“Denmark Tanny. I— I recognize that name. He—he was on the Royal Merchant. But there was no survivors. Hey what else do you know about this guy?”
“Uh when we first moved in, we found a diary, an almanac, a bunch of papers. Ward donated all of it to the state archives at Chapel Hill.”
“Can I go see that?”
“See what?” Sarah questioned.
“The— the archives. I need— I need to see them.”
“I mean, I can get you in if you want. He’s got a trustee pass.” Sarah told John B.
“Yeah yeah yeah. I need that.”
“To Chapel Hill?”
“Yes. Right now.”
“Why now?”
“I… I can’t tell you that.” John B hid the truth.
“More fugitive stuff?”
“Uh… fugitive adjacent, sort of. It’s, um… it’s a matter of national security.”
“I’ve just waited my entire life for someone to say that to me,” Sarah smiled.
“Look— God. I know this sounds crazy, but I really need to borrow that pass. The less you know, the better. Okay? You’ve just— you’ve gotta trust me.”
“No. I don’t trust anyone. Especially not with a trustee pass.”
“I need to go now.”
“Okay, then I’m coming with you.”
“No.”
“Yes. One last mission, and then I’m out of this dirty, dirty game. Come on. Let’s go.”
Sarah and John B arrived at the archives after they changed first. They ended up finding a letter written in Gullah. Denmark Tannys last correspondence. They couldn’t translate it.
John B remembered his history lesson and figured his teacher could translate it.
“Harvest the wheat near the water in parcel nine forthwith.”
The was a little symbol at the bottom of the letter and John B realized that wheat meant gold.
John B got a map from Sarah that somewhat showed where parcel nine was. You were looking for a stone wall. Parcel nine ended up to be the old Crain house.
“I heard that Mrs. Crain buried her husband’s head on the property.” JJ told everyone.
“JJ!” you scolded.
“Look, you guys know whose house this is, right?” Kiara asked.
“Oh, yeah. No, I do.” JJ responded.
“Honestly, I don’t really believe the stories of this place.” John B spoke.
“Which stories did you hear?” JJ asked Kiara.
“The one where she killed her husband with an axe, and that she’s been holed up ever since. On certain nights, when the moon is full… you can see her in the window.”
“No, it’s not funny, ‘cause it’s all true.” JJ said seriously.
“I swear to God, guys, this is all real. I knew Hollis.”
“Wait, you knew Hollis Crain?” Pope questioned.
“Yeah, dude.”
“Dude, how do you know Hollis Crain?”
“I remember you told me this, she was your babysitter” you spoke to JJ.
“Yeah she was,” JJ confirmed.
“She told me all about it. Told me the truth… about her mother and what happened in this house.” JJ continued.
“So as a kid, she heard all the stories that her mother killed her father, and… she was a murderer and all. Hollis didn’t believe it. Until that night.”
“What night?” John B asked.
“It all came back to her. When Hollis was six years old, she heard her parents arguing downstairs. So she goes downstairs to see her mom washing her hands in a sink… full of blood. Her mother just says that she cut her finger.”
“The next morning, she says her father and her split up. But then, Hollis noticed something. Her mother going into the parlor constantly, in and out and in and out with plastic bags. Weeks pass, and Hollis decides to use the outhouse.”
“And as she’s using it, she looks down, and there, in the outhouse, is her father’s head, looking straight back at her.”
“God, you are so full of shit” John B insulted
“Dude, I swear to god, man.”
“Did she call the police?” Pope asked.
“She didn’t have time.
John B started walking towards the house.
“Wait! Dude!” JJ yelled.
“What?”
“You sure you wanna do this? She’s an axe murderer. You got a cast on.” JJ warned.
“I don’t give a shit if she’s an axe murderer, okay?”
“John B,” you cried.
“What Y/N?”
“I got nothin’ to lose, right? You comin’ or what?”
“Come on,” Kie said.
“So here’s the plan. We need to look for the wheat near the water like it said in Denmark’s letter.” John B told the group.
“Okay, like, what kind of water? Like, pond water?” Pope asked.
“Bong water?” JJ laughed.
“No. It— it just said look for water, okay?” John B said.
“That’s the shittiest secret message ever.” Kiara spoke.
“Come on guys we can do this,” you encouraged.
“You wanna complain a little more, Kie? Nobody said it was gonna be easy.”
John B went through a wooden small door and called everyone to come look with him. It was the basement. There was a bunch of mosquitoes and Pope knew there must be water near. You all found a well with water under the floor boards.
A couple days later you all went back at night time. This time with Sarah.
“Let’s go get rich, guys.” JJ insisted.
“Yeah, hell yeah.” Kiara replied.
“Let’s go,” you said excitedly.
“Wait wait wait.”
“I wanna say thank you, guys. Seriously. It means a lot to me that you’re here tonight.” John B expressed.
“Always,” Kiara replied.
“Of course, man.” Pope responded.
“I will always be there for you John B,” you shared.
“All right, we done with this circle jerk? Can we go do this?” JJ asked.
“Yeah.”
“Let’s get that wheat in the water,” Pope muttered.
“Weed? I’m up for weed.” JJ got excited.
“Wheat. I said wheat.”
The six of you hopped the fence. You started walking towards the house and then the overhead lights turned on.
“Shit shit.”
“Flashlights.”
“Shhhh.”
“Okay, so she has motion sensor lights,” Pope observed.
“We could, uh… move really slowly, maybe?” JJ thought out loud.
“That’s not a good idea JJ,” you confessed.
“That’s not how it works,” Pope responded.
“Oh, shit. let’s throw a rock at it,” John B shared.
“What?”
“That’s a really good idea. Let the axe murderer know that we’re here.” Kiara said sarcastically.
“Throw a rock at it?” Pope repeated.
“You have a better idea?”
“Literally anything but that.” Kiara stated.
“What about the breaker? In the circuit box on the porch. We used to play hide-and-seek here as kids. And if we were brave enough, we’d go all the way up to the porch. I’ve seen it,” Sarah shared.
“No, no. You’re not going in the house alone,” John B said concerned.
“Watch me.”
“I’ll go with her,” you jumped in.
“Okay, come on.”
“Crain chops people into pieces,” JJ added.
“JJ!” you yelled.
“If you believe that, but she’s like what, 85?” Sarah whispered.
“Yeah, something like that.” JJ responded.
“She’s probably barely still kicking.”
“I’ll go with you too,” Kiara spoke.
“Yeah.”
“We will wait for your signal.” Pope began.
“Okay, cool.”
“Hey! Be safe.” John B told Sarah.
“Y/N, be careful!” JJ told you.
“We will.”
The three of you walked up to the porch.
“She must have a generator plugged into the main power supply,” you hissed in a whisper.
You got closer to the door.
“Shhhh.”
You found the box and Kiara opened it.
“Where are the breakers?” Sarah asked.
“What is this?” Kie asked.
“No, no, no, no, no, no, no.”
“Shit.”
“It goes inside.”
Carefully the three of you went inside. There you found the breaker box and flipped the switches which turned off the motion censor lights.
“They did it. Go time.” John B whispered.
“So, let’s do it.” Pope responded.
The boys went to the basement and started lowering John B down the well. JJ and Pope accidentally dropped John B while trying to situate the rope.
John B yelled, “I told you not to drop me,” which woke up the crazy axe murderer.
John B was scrambling to get out because he saw part of a skull when he stumbled on a secret tunnel. The tunnel was full of gold bars. John B was shocked.
You, Kie, and Sarah came down to the basement and explained that Mrs. Crain is trying to kill you. Everyone needed to pull up John B.
Mrs. Crain chased everyone out with a shot gun. John B got some gold bars and climbed out of the well. Everyone got to the car really fast. John B showed everyone the gold and everyone got really excited and started screaming “full look!”
——————-
JJ was your rock. He was your everything. After a few months of dating you both lost your virginity to each other. He was your first and you were his. The love you shared for each other was bone deep.
What nobody knew was that Ward killed the two bad guys who were also looking for the Royal Merchant. Ward has been hunting for the Royal Merchant for years. He was the one who betrayed and killed Big John Routledge.
Ward saw John B and Sarah talking outside his window. He opened the window to hear what they were saying.
“Four hundred million dollars. It’s all there,” John B exclaimed.
“Hey, that’s crazy,” Sarah replied.
“We did it. Now we just have to get it out of there.”
“Right. So how are we going to do that?”
Ward finally realized where the gold is and he takes it. He takes all of it and puts it on his private plane going to the Bahamas.
John B drives his van and parks it in front of the plane, so Ward had no choice but to stop the plane. John B reunites with Sarah and then Sheriff Peterkin pulls up.
“Oh, thank God you’re here. Susan, I told you he lost his goddamn mind,” Ward says.
“Put your hands on your head,” Sheriff Peterkin speaks.
“I’d do what she said kid,” Ward instructs.
“She’s talkin’ to you, Ward,” John B fires back.
“You’re under arrest for the murder of Big John Routledge.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Put your hands on your head.”
“Are you kidding me, Sue?”
“Put your hands on your head!”
Ward finally listens and puts his hands on his head.
“Turn around.”
“Drop to your knees!”
“I don’t like being used. I waited a long time for this.”
Ward starts to resist so she holds out her gun. Next thing you know Rafe shot the sheriff.
“Rafe. What did you do?” Ward asks.
“I saved you, Dad. I saved you,” Rafe responds.
Ward makes Rafe take Sarah home. Then he waits for the sheriff to bleed out. Since the only other people at the air strip was John B, Sarah, Rafe and Ward, Ward says that John B was the one who killed her when Shoupe eventually gets there.
Everyone on the island is looking for John B because there is a reward. With your help you and JJ manage to get his dads boat the phantom for John B to use to leave the OBX. So Sarah and John B take off and you and the other pogues say your goodbyes.
John B and Sarah head into the storm. Ward calls them on a radio.
“John B. John B, I know you are there, son. I know you can hear me, and if you love my daughter like I think you love my daughter, then you will turn that boat around and come back. You are going into a storm that you cannot survive. John B, please, I will make it right. I promise you. Come back. John B, I am begging you. Think of her and turn around.” Wards voice boomed through the speaker.
“Ward Cameron, do you hear me?” John B yelled.
“Yes. Yes, son, I’m right here. I’m right here. Please bring her back, okay? We’ll work it out when you get home.”
“You killed my father, and you framed me for a murder I didn’t commit. You took everything from me! You took everything from me! But i’m still here. And I swear to God, Ward, I will come back one day and take what’s mine.”
“So, you listen to me, all right? I’m comin’ for you. I’m coming for you.”
John B and Sarah wipe out in the storm. They wake up and see a boat passing by. John B uses the gold to flag it down. The captain of the ship says they’re going to Nassau.
You and your friends are told the police lost John B and Sarah in the storm. So you believe they are dead. You’ve never felt this kind of pain before. You felt like you couldn’t go on. But at least you had JJ and your friends.
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wishcamper · 2 days
Text
Nessian Week Day 5 - Behind Closed Doors
I meant to write a sexy, Casino Royale-esque poker scene but it somehow ended up as Cassian fangirling over his wife for 3k words so uh. Here you go.
Read here or on ao3!
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High Stakes
A/N: This prompt really made me want to play with the idea of layers of intimacy in long-term relationships because a) I don’t think we have enough representations of healthy, fulfilling, functional monogamy and b) I‘ve always thought there was beautiful potential for Nessian to know and understand each other to the point where they can see all the layers of the other person, and be able to hold space for the other’s complexity. I’d just really like to believe that’s possible. So I hope that comes across. 
I’m exploring some of these same ideas in ACOVAV, my ongoing ACOSF fix-it. Questions around the character’s experiences and my own, like: what does it look like to build tension in a story and depth in a relationship without miscommunication or people treating each other badly? What if it’s two people trying their best to get close while also wrestling with their own individual shit in very real, understandable ways? What exists at that intersection between me and us? Something interesting, I think.
If that interests you too, you can read that fic on ao3 :)
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“Mr. Archeron.”
“Marlowe. How’s she looking tonight?”
Two males stood before the door of a long-vacant tavern, sweating slightly in the night air thick and lush as it only was in summer, Velaris bursting with vitality after dark. The cobblestone streets were full of revelers who passed by without a second glance, ignorant that beyond the hidden entrance lay a world where fortunes were won and lost, where the honor of courts rose and fell at the discretion of a female known only in whispers as the Queen of Cards.
A female who just happened to be Cassian’s wife.
“A strong start,” Marlowe said as he ushered Cassian into the candlelit basement, flickering shadows belying the bustling street above. “The High Lord from Autumn has cheek, though.” 
“Yeah, Eris gets like that when he’s losing.”
They shook hands and Cassian made his way down the dim hallway, the sounds of chatter and shuffling and clinking coins drifting toward him. He could hear Eris braying high above the others, Rhys’ smooth voice giving back just as good. When he reached the arched entrance to the playing room, everyone had their backs to him except Nesta, who glanced up from her three-card hand and smiled. 
She always faced the door during games, ready to protect her players’ privacy in case someone got past Marlowe, though it had the unintended effect of giving him a moment to take her in uninterrupted. Her gown was midnight blue tonight, long sleeves in tiers of iridescent silk like a dragonfly’s wings, hair cascading over one shoulder studded with opals that turned fiery in the faelights.
A glittering queen holding court. And damn if Cassian didn’t want to go to his knees before her, still, after all this time.
“Can we get on with it or do I need to send you two to time out?” she asked the still-squabbling High Lords without missing a beat, tossing her cards in and signaling to the silver clad dealer to begin the next round before. She threw in her ante next, silver bracelets chiming at her wrist with the movement.
With some grumblings the players turned to their hands, and Cassian edged along the wall to where Emerie sat at a high table on her own, grazing on the arrayed refreshments and accounting her winnings in a worn ledger. 
“I was up and didn’t want to push my luck,” the female whispered when he nodded in greeting, giving him a sly smile. Cassian smiled back - Emerie always came out on top. He suspected Nesta was subtly losing to her friend on purpose after the female refused to let her fund an expansion of her shop. And he suspected Emerie knew it, too, but both were too proud to say it aloud. She licked the tip of her pencil and made another note. “Plus, it’s fun to watch your mate knock a few High Lords down a peg.”
“Sometimes I wonder if that’s the real game,” he confessed, and Emerie grinned smugly, wings ruffling with delight.
They observed the game in silence for a moment, allowing Cassian time to survey the other players in attendance tonight. There was an endless rotating cast of characters at Nesta’s now-famous monthly games, the invitation so coveted they’d had all manner of bribes delivered to the House of Wind by very confused messengers. Thankfully all gifts were now rerouted to a third-party location, after a lesser lord of Summer sent a dozen peacocks they’d chased about the House for hours.
There were seven of them tonight as usual, including Emerie, all faces he recognized buried in their cards around the half-moon table. Granted, it helped that nearly half the players were his wife, her best friend, and Rhys, whose pile of coin looked so pitifully low Cassian couldn’t help but smirk when he caught his brother’s eye.
“We should raise the blind,” Rhys interjected. “What's the point of playing if you’re eschewing risk?”
It still surprised Cassian sometimes that Rhys kept coming back despite showing no taste for gambling in the past. But he supposed Rhys had always been weirdly competitive with Nesta, and even though they’d buried the hatchet long ago Nesta still loved winning her brother-in-law’s money fair and square. Which she did without fail, hand over fist, with a silent pact between them not to tell Feyre.
Neither of her sisters knew, by design he suspected, and Mor was off in Montesere ‘finding herself’ again, whatever that meant. Azriel had a brief, brilliant run before his competitiveness got the best of him and he was banned for brawling at the table, one of the only standing rules. Emerie and Eris were regulars, and he’d seen the others in attendance before: broad-shouldered Megrin Stonecutter of the Velaris maester’s guild and Nuan of Dawn, who perched cross-legged in her chair, a pair of elaborate spectacles whirring on her round face
Opposite Nesta tonight sat the High Lord of Day, still radiant despite having foregone his usual golden adornments. Helion looked nonplussed by his own losing streak as Cassian watched him toss his cards face down in front of him, leaving only Rhys, Eris, and Nesta still alive in the hand.
“I fold. You all are vicious. Are you not joining us, Cass?”
“And add one more body to the slaughter? No thanks.” He’d never had much interest, content to watch Nesta splatter egos against the wall.
Megrin grunted in agreement and slid her cards to the dealer past the large pile of gold in the center. “I’m out, too. Clearly someone knows something I don’t.”
“It’s yours to call, Eris,” Rhys said breezily. “Unless you’re waiting to ask your father’s ghost for permission.”
Cassian snorted, making eye contact with Rhys again, who shot him a shit-eating grin as Eris covered his mouth with a stiff hand, brow furrowed. 
To everyone’s surprise, Beron Vanserra had been felled two years prior by an ordinary fever. No one in Autumn nor elsewhere could make sense of it - it was as if one day the hands of hel simply reached up and snatched him back into the earth. So a court that had once been destined for a bloody coup passed the crown peacefully, which was a good thing all around, though Rhys loved painting Eris as a cowardly dawdler whose target put himself in an early grave just to end the waiting.
The Autumn lord sneered at the insult, still waffling. “Some of us prefer to think about our actions, Rhysand, instead of barrelling forward with whatever scheme will inflate our self-importance the most. Stealing things from other courts, for example, books, brides -“
Nesta glanced over at Cassian then, crossing and uncrossing her fingers where they lay against her cheek, and he had to stifle the laugh that bubbled forth at the private joke, just for him. It was her signal that sexual tension was present in the room, sometimes to indicate she wanted to leave whatever function they were at, sometimes so they could share a roll of their eyes. In this case he knew she meant the squabbling lords, as many a late night they’d mused that Eris and Rhys could get past their rivalry if they just had sex about it. 
“As much as I enjoy seeing Rhysand’s self-importance punctured,” Nesta drawled when the latter opened his mouth to retort. “You can’t delay your bet with old, petty scores. We’re all rather bored with it. If you’re going to cheat, at least use some imagination.” 
She sipped at her glass of pomegranate juice, a frequent gift of affection from Helion and a nod to the other rule: no alcohol. 
Rhys’ expression flashed briefly with betrayal, but he schooled it quickly, knowing better than to give himself away. But Cassian knew Nesta’s smoky eyes clocked it before they turned to Eris. 
“I remember you once tempting me with an invitation to Autumn, to see how a High Lord plays. Is this what you had in mind?” She gestured to the modest pile of gold in front of him. “I rather think I made the right decision, don’t you?”
Emerie chuckled beside him, and Cassian felt a thrill low in his stomach to see Nesta so self-possessed, lit from within. After everything they’d been through with the Trove, with their families, a part of him wondered if he’d ever see her ferocity again, if the sharp point of that viper’s tongue would smooth over for good. 
She’d become very soft for about a decade after the Blood Rite, and they’d taken long walks through the Illyrian Steppes and the Myrmidons, swam in streams and lakes and the oceans of Summer, watched the bees drift lazily from flower to flower in Elain’s gardens in Day. It was as if she’d needed to come completely to rest before deciding what to do next. And the solitude seemed to give her a sense of clarity, but he’d been glad as fuck to be an exception to that rule, to witness the private puzzlings and support her in finding purpose in her life.
They’d only just returned to Velaris the previous spring, when the threads of family and duty pulled them home at last. Their time away was intimate and lovely, some of the best years of his life, yet Cassian enjoyed seeing Nesta confident out in the world again. The poker game had been the first of many things to draw her out, and he couldn’t wait to see what she’d surprise him with next, his strong, clever, deadly little wife.
Eris grumbled and tossed a few coins in the middle. “Happy now? Or would you prefer to seduce it out of me?”
Cassian watched her swallow the barb, which would’ve sent her into survival mode in the past and now rolled off her with barely a ripple. Leashed his own instincts to leap across the room and tackle Eris to the ground, because Nesta wouldn’t hesitate to kick him out for breaking the rules too, mate or no, and he’d miss his favorite show.
“Your luck doesn’t extend that far tonight,” she said demurely, and Cassian knew the smug prick was too stupid to see her coiling up to strike when the time was right. Nesta won the hand a moment later to groans all around, her Winter flush beating Rhys’ three pixies and Eris’ two pair, nymphs and kelpies.
“I propose a wager," Nesta declared as the next hand was dealt, her voice velvety and inviting. "The victor of the evening wins one favor of their choosing...” Eyes lit up around the table, anticipation deepening. “...from my husband.”
They all turned toward Cassian where he was leaning against the wall with an amused grin now, and he raised an eyebrow at his mate. Her eyes flashed silver where she stared back at him, and he felt her send a soothing wave down the bond, assuring him of her intent. Inviting him into the ruse. Cassian made a show of looking chagrined, shuffling his feet as he looked down.
Rhys was the first to respond, smirking. “I’ll take that bet.” 
Cassian knew he was incensed at the idea of losing, wrongly fancying himself more clever than his sister-in-law. Nesta knew it, too, and that arrogance made him play more recklessly.
“Count me out,” said Helion, winking. “You’re pretty, Cass, but my minister of finance will have my head if I lose any more.”
“Ah, why not?” Nuan flushed, uncomfortable with the attention now drawn her way, and chuckled nervously. “Not sure what use I’d have for you, dear, but who knows what worth it may hold!”
Megrin pursed her lips, sizing him up. “He has a strong enough back I suppose. I’ve been meaning to rearrange my forge.”
“Any favor of my choosing?” Eris mused, and Cassian felt the Autumn lord’s gaze roving over his body and then Nesta’s, possessive and hungry. The years hadn’t changed everything. Nesta answered with nothing but a feline smile.
The next few rounds passed in a blur of bluffs and bold plays. Nesta remained composed even on the hands she lost, an almost bored air to the way she watched the males bluster and crow. Eris' anger grew while Rhys shot daggers with his glare at her every win, turning each hand into an unnecessary battle of wills that made him play sloppy. Nuan ducked out when it became clear the prize wasn’t hers, and Megrin hung on for a while longer, bluffing her way through until her luck ran dry, to Cassian’s relief. 
One by one, Nesta outplayed them, her composure never faltering as she watched her opponents fume, each loss reigniting their fervor to win.
At last the players were down to the final hand, and the air in the hidden basement crackled with anticipation. The dealer laid down the community cards as bets went around: a wyvern, a lord, a lady, and a cave troll. Each still in signaled for new cards, Nesta tapping once against the table, her face revealing nothing. Cassian could feel his chest tighten as they sized each other up before Rhys pushed all his chips into the pot with a confident smirk.
"All in."
Unfazed, Nesta called his bet, gesturing idly at her pile for the dealer to sweep into the center with his crook. That left only Eris to decide his own fate, as well as Cassian’s.
He puzzled for a long while with his head in his hands before he finally spoke, low and deliberate. "I’ll call."
Coins cascaded into the center, a shower of gold. Then the final card was revealed—another lady. All coins in the center, it felt like everyone held their breath as the three remaining players revealed their hands. 
Rhys set down two lords, the grin spreading across his face triumphant and sure, the poor bastard. Eris only clucked his tongue and revealed his full house, ladies full of wyverns, smug despite achieving it on the last draw.
But Cassian knew it wasn’t over yet. He turned to where his wife was toying with the edge of her hand, and he’d seen that pose too many times not to recognize it at once: You Have Just Royally Fucked Yourself. Silver rolled over Nesta’s eyes, and with prim efficiency she laid down the three remaining trolls in the deck, one after another.
The room erupted, Eris upending his chair as he leapt to his feet, Rhys shouting about cheating and Helion tipping his head back to let loose a peal of laughter soon joined by Emerie and Nuan’s, by Megrin’s groan. Cassian couldn’t help the dopey grin that spread across his face, how at home Nesta looked in the sea of chaos when she winked at him, calmly piling her coins into neat stacks.
Once everyone had regained their heads they all passed a lovely hour in conversation, the air hazy from the cigarettes Nesta usually smoked with Lucien at their gossip sessions disguised as afternoon tea. Rhys departed first, claiming a return to his fatherly duties, though they all knew he was off to beg Feyre’s sympathies while he licked his wounds for reasons he’d never confess. Emerie left with a tight hug and a promise to have them up to Windhaven soon to see her new expansion, and Eris gave Nesta a begrudging bow before Helion swooped in and kissed her on the cheek. He did the same to Cassian, and they heard his warm voice echoing down the corridor, giving Eris shit all the way up the stairs.
Alone now, Cassian came up behind where Nesta was tucking a handful of coins in a pouch for Marlowe, looped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck. She batted at him but he felt her lean backwards all the same, cracking the door to that soft place within, that only her loved ones were allowed to enter. He knew she liked the affection, even if part of her still hated to admit it, if she only wanted it when it was just them.
“Wicked woman,” he teased, and he felt her smile against his cheek, the press of her nails into his forearm. “Were you seriously going to let Eris have his way with me?”
Nesta turned in his arms and he took her in close up for the first time all day, having left her snoring softly that morning when he departed for Windhaven. He warmed to see her face still relaxed and open, the ease in her posture. 
“If he won, sure.”
Cassian snorted. “I don’t know if that’s a testament to your confidence or your willingness to torture me.”
The candlelight flickered silver around them for a moment and he drew her close once more, breathing deep the vanilla and jasmine scent of her hair, the lingering smokiness. Nesta linked her hands behind his back and squeezed him hard, impatient.
“Can’t it be both? Now take me home, Lady Death is tired.”
“Is that your favor for winning, sweetheart?”
“No,” she said, eyes dancing and devious when he pulled back. “I’ve much bigger plans for you.”
And oh, she did.
They ended the night in Cassian’s favorite way, with him sprawled atop her, head pillowed on her chest, her long fingers working through the snarls in his hair he’d earned in their pleasure. The House dimmed the lights in the bedchamber that was once his, the door now warded to both their hands. Hands that bore twin golden rings and tattoos of an eight-pointed star, tokens of their promises, both his and hers.
“Goodnight, I love you.”
Nesta’s voice was thick and fuzzy, and he felt a quiet contentment on her end of the bond. It was rare for her to inhabit it in public as much as she had tonight, and Cassian remembered when her end of the bridge between them had been locked tight, impenetrable. He’d made a fool of himself trying to break through early in their love, using brute force to smash past her defenses, leaving her exposed. 
But now he knew the secret that should’ve been obvious, that he only had to knock.
“I love you, too, sweetheart.”
She smiled with her eyes closed and pursed her lips, kissing the air before sleep dragged her under.
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