#i also told her to under no circumstances try to find the rest of my fanfic :sob:

[quaranmine]

your mom reads your fanfiction? that's awesome! what else does she say about it?

Well, she's read this one! She hasn't ever read any other fanfiction before either but I've explained the concept to her. It's also the only piece of fiction writing she's read by me since I was probably in 7th grade or so. She knew I could write based on the essays and articles I've written. Like, I've had her help me edit my college papers before and she went with me in high school when I competed at state for timed essay writing. But she had ZERO exposure to whether I could write fiction or not!

I left her some notes at the beginning of the story to explain a few things, like how yes the names are weird but she'll get used to them. (I pointed out that she loved Cold Storage by David Koepp, which has a character who is called "Teacake" the entire time.) She is also reading it slower than she probably would've read other books, because I recommended she open up the document on her laptop. At 218 pages, the google doc lags HARD on your phone.

She told me that once I used the word "rack" to describe Grian hanging up the phone in its place, and that wasn't what it was called, but she blanked on the correct word to describe it. (Cradle? Just 'holder'?)

She already knows the end of the story, but she still thinks it's very irrational for Grian to assume Mumbo is alive. She too has a lot of experience going hiking and doing outdoor activites, as well as a big true crime obsession, so she's well versed with the odds of missing people being alive after such a long time. So she think it's Painfully obvious that Grian is wrong, but she also understands the way I've set up his grief and is very sympathetic to it.

She's delighted with the part where Scar desribes Jellie to calm Grian down. She also highlighted several descriptions I've done and said that she loved the way I described the mountains and nature. She said it was very beautiful. She has learned a lot about fire lookouts and finds all my details interesting. She likes Scar best because she knows a lot more about him from me talking about him over the years—I guess I tend to talk about Scar more than Grian because I watch his streams more and showed her pictures of Jellie.

She's also calling it "my book" :D

[bitterbutblue]

interrogation - jane doe

just know you'll taste me too ☆ jane doe x fem!reader

~ THE JANE DOE TRAILER WAS SO FAN SERVICE BUT SORRY IT UNLOCKED SOMETHING IN ME... HOT RAT GIRL SAVE ME...

warning: SUGGESTIVE AND I SAY THE SEX WORD LIKE ONCE

song: taste - sabrina carpenter ~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

The first thing you took note of was how much your head hurt. An incessant pounding, each worse than the last. You take a deep breath in, feeling the cold air fill your lungs. It stings, breathing stings. It's like a blade dragging itself down your throat and it makes you feel like coughing. The second thing you take note of is the feeling of ropes digging into your skin around your wrists and ankles. You squirmed, trying to move but to no avail. You were tied down. The last thing you took note of was where you were. Your vision begins to clear itself after a couple blinks- you looked around, breathing shakily as you eyed the dark surroundings. Nothing but a single lamp light pointed down at you. Everything else was dark.

"Good morning~"

A sultry voice echoes through the room- low and smooth. The woman's voice wraps around your neck, her voice is your chokehold. You look around, eyes darting from left to right, up to down, as you try to find the source of the voice.

"Who- where the fuck am I?"

Your voice is hoarse, raspy. Your throat feels scratchy and speaking just dries it out even more. You wonder how long you've been knocked out for.

"You would want to know, wouldn't you?"

"Who the fuck wouldn't?"

You couldn't stop the retorts- yes you were about to possibly die but what fucking right does this woman have?

"Honestly, I don't think that matters too much. Also, watch your language- it's quite vulgar."

The figure steps out from the shadows, a blade in her hand. An all-too smug smirk on her face as she crouches down to your eye level. You would recognise that goddamn face from anywhere.

"Jane."

"Hi."

"Fuck you."

She just giggles.

"Glad to see you remember me."

Supposedly working for under the boss of your gang, but god knows better than that. You had your suspicions since the very first day and the day your gang got busted down. She had ran away- and the last thing you remember is a waft of smoke in front of your eyes and a wet towel with a foul odour over your nose and mouth.

"Bitch."

She narrows her eyes, standing up to move behind you. You hear her footsteps, soft but it still echoes in the hollows of this dark room. You gasp when you feel her lean over your shoulder, her hair tickling your neck as she smiles.

"Don't think I've forgotten our history, my dear."

Gay people always have some fucked up history with each other and this is more or less the proof. Having had sex with her on multiple occasions while she was working for your boss was probably not ideal for this situation too.

"Shame. I always wanted to see you tied down for me, just not under these circumstances."

You scoffed, looking away. You couldn't help the blush that had started creeping up from your neck and had now dusted your cheeks with a bright shade of pink. You shifted uncomfortably, trying to find some way out of the stupid ropes.

"What do you want."

You curse yourself for your shaky voice.

"I just have a few questions."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes. It was always more than 'just a few questions'. It has never, and never will be, 'just a few questions' with Jane. She moves so that she's knelt between your thighs and in other circumstances this would've been incredibly hot (but truthfully told you couldn't help but swallow at the sight). Her tail wraps itself around your leg as she inches closer.

"How did he get away?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know? You knocked me the fuck out!"

She rests a hand on your thigh and you physically shudder at the touch.

You feel pathetic.

"You were a high ranking member. Not as high ranking as me.. but-"

"Okay, no need to rub that in-"

"But. We had you all surrounded. There was no way a 7 foot giant of a man could've gotten away. How?"

Is she just bad at her job?

"Dude, how the fuck am I supposed to know? I'm a lower rank than you- you should've kidnapped someone else for fuck's sake!"

Jane just giggles as her fingers begin inching up higher and higher and the once icy cold room suddenly feels like it's burning hot. You squirm again, there has to be some fucking way out of these binds. Her tail unravels itself, moving up so that it caresses your face. You shiver at the touch- the cold, metallic blade just barely grazing your cheek.

"You had connections with him no one else had."

"Shut- what?"

"You were the most convenient one to grab... considering your long history with the boss I wouldn't be surprised if he was your uncle."

"He's not." You scowl, trying not to show her exactly how much her touch affects you. You feel the blade on her tail move down, now moving itself to graze your neck.

Why was that so hot?

"Hm, sure."

She just giggles again, this time moving off her knees and back onto her feet. She presses a hand against your chest, the other on the side of your thigh as she leans down so that her face was mere inches from yours and you can feel her breath fan against your face and you can feel her eyes boring into yours and-

Oh you're so gay.

"Just tell me where he went, and we can settle this nicely like before."

"What? Did you just want to fuck me one last time before I go to jail or something?"

"Maybe." She shrugs, hand trailing up so that it wrapped around your neck. You felt her squeeze gently, and your breath catches in your throat. The room is overheating. You're overheating.

"Just be a good girl for me and tell me the truth?"

That bitch.

You couldn't help but shudder but god you can't give in to her because you're horny and pathetic, that's so stupid!

"Fuck you."

She sighs.

"I knew this would take a while."

Her eyes dart up and down your body, taking in your restrained state with a small and satisfied smirk as her grasp around your throat softens. You catch your breath- only for it to be taken away when you feel her blade trail downwards.

"I don't mind staying."

[ttt-youngy]

Lollipop : S.JY

Summary : You please Jaeyun by using your mouth (for the first time).

Genre : smut, soft, romance

Warnings : Jake × F! reader (actress), established relationship, blowjob, titty fucking, nudity, mention of cum and genitals, almost a first time. MNDI

Count : 3,82k

You walk into your hotel room after escorting the spa girl out. As you enter, you pause for a moment to observe the three bodies spread out across the gigantic bed in the luxurious room your father had reserved for you. The bed was so big that everyone could fit in it without any problem.

-When did they fall asleep?-you protest, pointing at Jungwon and Heeseung’s girlfriend, addressing the only one awake in the room. You know that, under these circumstances, it will be harder to send them to their respective rooms.

-I have no idea, but the bed is incredibly comfortable, so I’m not judging them-, Sunoo answers, as he continues searching for something on Netflix. -You know? Aside from your mess, I don’t understand why you insisted that we use another room. This is clearly the best one out of all.

Sunoo adds as he gives you an inquisitive look and narrows his eyes.

-You were only going to share it with Jake, right?- Sunoo asks, catching on to the real reason you seemed so eager to empty your room. -What time were you planning on leaving us to go with him?

You roll your eyes, sliding down the bed to occupy the space that had been left for you, between Kim and Heeseung’s girlfriend.

-I haven't seen him since I set foot in this hotel. Obviously I had plans to meet him too- you say obviously, resting your head on the softness of the pillows and letting out a sigh as you feel your tired legs tingle at the incredible comfort.

-It's a shame, because this is officially a sleepover- announces Sunoo, selecting a movie after watching a few seconds of the trailer.

-It's a shame- repeats the girl next to you in a whisper, keeping her eyes closed, but with a mischievous smile appearing on her lips.

You part your lips, dismayed by the arbitrary liberties she just took.

-We never agreed that we would spend the whole night together. We were supposed to spend some time relaxing and then each of us would go to our corresponding room- you complain, although you also start to get interested in the movie that Sunoo has chosen.

-For how long? Until your boyfriend is available for u?-Sunoo retorts, taking a bite of the snacks resting on her chest. -I’m afraid you won’t get your way this time, little princess.-You huff, resigned, as you settle yourself into bed. However, you were beginning to reconsider your plans to see Jake. You muse on how even Nishimura Riki might get upset if Jake dared to leave their shared space until dawn to be with you. After all, Ni-Ki would probably want to spend time playing and relaxing with her hyung after finishing concerts in this foreign country. You didn’t want Ni-Ki to see you as an annoying intruder, nor did you want your new friends to feel used.

Your mind keeps spinning, remembering what Heeseung's girlfriend had told you when you went to find her in her room. Her comment had been direct and sharp, questioning you bluntly why you weren't with your boyfriend. But, the truth is, you were dying to see him too.

-Come on, don't be like that. I love you two so much, I even hired the skincare girl for us. You're not my second choice; I could be watching the game with him, but I also wanted to spend time with all of you-you say, trying to dispel the tension.

Sunoo watches you for a moment, and then his expression softens.

-It's okay, I was just joking- he answers, showing you his adorable smile. -But I'm afraid that pair really is asleep, and I won't dare wake them up. I'll leave that decision in your hands, or, you and hyung could agree on another meeting point.

You look at the pair to your left, and you feel absolutely self-conscious about waking them up, especially since they looked absolutely comfortable sleeping. Jungwon and Heeseung's girlfriend seemed to be in a deep, peaceful sleep, their breathing soft and synchronized, showing how comfortable they were at the moment.

You debate whether to wake them up or let them rest. In the end, you decide not to disturb their peace. They must be so exhausted, and guilt comes back to you when you remember that your friend had to extend her schedule for the contingencies of yours.

-Ash! I can't do it because they look so cute like this,- you murmur, turning your face towards the television. A small sign of indecision appears on your lips as you consider all your possibilities, except for the one of upsetting your friends.

Just then, the phone in your hand vibrates, announcing the arrival of a text. Curious, you unlock the screen and see a notification from Jake;

“I’ll be up to your room soon, the game is almost over.”

Your heart skips a beat as you read the message. You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. You look at your friends, at the TV, and then back at Jake’s message. You have no idea what the right thing to do is at that moment.

“My guests have no intentions of leaving, they overslept. So, I guess I’ll have to see you tomorrow before I leave.”

You reply to his message and lock your phone by resting it on your chest, almost instantly it vibrates in response.

“So, boo? Should I use my hyung card and send Ni-Ki to Sunghoon or Jay?”

You sigh, knowing that Jake would be willing to do anything to see you. You'd feel guilty if he were to take Ni-Ki out of his space just to be with you. You didn't want any more awkwardness to be created between you and the younger boy. Besides, you knew that Ni-Ki wanted that time with Jake as much as you did.

"No, Ikeu. Ni-Ki needs his time with you so he doesn't feel left out, my last wish is for him to feel insecure with me and our relationship. So, spend time with him tonight. We'll have our time later, sweetheart."

You send the text and put your phone aside, feeling helpless and calm. You sit up, looking for the chips you wanted to eat now that you felt so torn.

-Where are the fries I picked out?- you ask Kim, noticing that they are nowhere to be found.

Sunoo joins in the search with his gaze, but ends up shrugging.

-I think they were left in the bag I left in my room. Do you want me to go make sure and bring them back?

You smile slightly at his kindness, but shake your head.

-Okay, I'll go get them. Do you think Sunghoon is awake?- you say, getting out of bed to grab your robe and put it on.

-It's possible, but here you have it in case he doesn't answer- Sunoo takes the card out of his pocket and hands it to you-. Don't take too long, the movie is getting good.

-Don't worry, I'll be back soon- you reply, taking the card.

You leave the room and head towards one of the ones that his agency reserved for them. As you go down in the elevator, you take the opportunity to check the last message Jake sent.

"I miss you ."

The butterflies in your stomach are activated when you read those words. You get out of the elevator and take a deep breath, trying to contain your desire to go to his room, which was on that same floor, and throw yourself into his arms to accept him sending Nishimura with the others. You respond quickly, trying to keep your composure.

"I miss you too. See you tomorrow, I promise."

You put your phone in your robe pocket and continue towards Sunoo and Sunghoon's shared room. You knock on the door first, not wanting to invade the personal space of your boyfriend's best friend, who was probably still on the phone with his girlfriend. When you get no answer, you decide to use the card Sunoo offered you.

-Sunghoon?-you call upon entering, but you find the place empty.

Faced with this, you take the opportunity to rummage through Sunoo's things in search of the fries. Once you find them, you take them and head for the exit. Just as you are about to close the door, you are startled to hear the screams and exclamations coming from one of the adjoining rooms. Almost instantly, Jake, Sunghoon and Ni-Ki appear in your field of vision. Disoriented, you watch as Sunghoon grabs Ni-Ki by the shoulders and leads him on a celebratory run down the opposite hallway, while your boyfriend approaches you shouting, "Hey!"

In the blink of an eye, your feet lose contact with the ground and the fries fall from your hands as Jake effortlessly lifts you onto his shoulder, carrying you back to the bedroom. With a mischievous grin, he lightly slaps your butt, ignoring your protests.

-Jake, put me down!-you laugh, trying to sound annoyed, but the joy in your voice gives you away.

-Don't even dream about it. You think I'm going to let you go that easy?-he replies, as he gently places you on the bed and leans over you, his eyes shining brightly as he looks at you.

-I told you we'd see each other tomorrow,- you murmur against his lips at the proximity of them, your voice barely an intimate whisper.

-I couldn’t wait this long-he replies, caressing your hair with a tenderness that melts your heart. -Even if it’s just for a moment, I had to see you.

You feel his lips press softly against yours, a gesture that always makes you feel loved. You pull away a little to look into his eyes, and he focuses his attention on you, his fingers playing with a lock of your hair.

-You’re the best part of my days,-he whispers, his voice full of sincerity. -I’ve told you before. No matter how tiring the concerts are or how far away we are, I always want to be with you.

-And I’m with you,-you reply, your fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw. -But don’t you think Ni-Ki must be wondering about you?

Jake sighs, still with a smile on his lips.

-Probably- he admits-. But this moment with you is worth any claim. Besides, I have faith that Sunghoon will be able to distract him. He and Sunoo decided to lend us their room for as long as we want.

The idea of having a private moment with Jake in the middle of the hustle and bustle of their lives makes you feel a wave of happiness. You link your arms behind his neck, enjoying the warmth of his body on yours. His fingers continue to caress your hair as he looks at you with an intensity that makes your heart beat faster.

His familiar and warm scent envelops you, and you close your eyes, enjoying his caresses.

-I feel like at any moment he's going to come knocking on the door incessantly just to annoy us- you say, laughing at the simple imagination.

-He won't. Otherwise, Sunghoon won't get the Gucci jacket we negotiated- he confesses, making you open your eyes in shock.

-You're amazing- you say, admiring his dedication and love-. I don't know what I'd do without you.

-And you don't have to find out,-he replies with a smile. "Because I plan to be by your side forever."

Jake leans down and kisses you again, this time with a passion that makes you lose your breath. The kiss deepens, and you lose yourself in the warmth of his lips, at the same time, his hands, firm yet tender, run along the skin of your leg, firming it around his hip, bringing you even closer to him.

The brush of his fingers against your skin sends shivers of pleasure through your body, and you cling to him. You feel his breathing quicken, syncing with yours, creating a perfect, harmonious rhythm between the two of you. You moan against his lips, feeling his hardness pressing against your throbbing intimacy. You knew that if you didn't change the situation, you would want him inside you, and you definitely didn't want to abuse the last of your energy in his body. The temptation to keep going is strong, and you know that if you don't stop now, it will be hard to stop. Jake needed to rest.

With a conscious effort, you break away from the kiss, placing a hand on his chest to stop him.

-Jake, you're exhausted. I don't want you to push yourself any harder than necessary,-you murmur, looking at him with affection and concern.

He shakes his head, resting his forehead against yours. His caresses becoming more insistent.

-I would never be tired for you- he answers softly, his tone full of sincerity-. Your pleasure is the greatest of rewards. There is nothing that makes me feel more complete than seeing you shudder with pleasure because of me.

Biting your lower lip at his words, you feel a shudder that shakes your insides. You quickly remember that in all their encounters, Jake had always given you the lead without hesitation.

-Today I want to be the one who takes the lead. Relax and let me make you feel good, okay? - You say, while your hand descends towards his crotch, placing it on the bulge in his pants, making him hiss.

-No, sweetie. I will continue with you, you come first- He resists, trying to stop the movements of your hand.

-Don't you trust that I will do it right? Or... are you wearing your Thor boxers again? - you question, pausing and raising an eyebrow, although you suppress the laughter that your last question provokes. However, Jake does laugh at this.

-You're never going to forget that, right? - he says, slightly embarrassed, but the love in his gaze leaves you enthralled - What am I going to do with you?

You resume caressing his member trapped in his jeans, licking your lips as you feel it grow under your touch. Your mouth was already watering.

-Let it be me this time. Come on, love, I want to taste you- you say in a soft moan, clinging your teeth to your lip and bringing your eyebrows together in a pleading gesture.

-Oh, I definitely can't say no to you. You're my weakness,-Jaeyun admits, closing the distance with a kiss and clinging to your leg to spin with you, leaving you on top of him.-Do with me whatever you want.

You smile against his lips, sliding your hands under his shirt to feel the firmness of his abdomen. You waste no time and sit up a little to remove his shirt. Jake is cooperative, also sitting up to make the task easier for you. Then, you gently push him so that he is leaning on his elbows and you kiss him again, while your hand rests on one of his pecs.

-Just enjoy it,-you whisper in his ear, starting a trail of kisses that goes from his jaw to his neck. Then, you ascend again with your tongue, playing a little with him. This makes him gasp, while his fists clench taking the fabric of your robe in his hands.

In that instant, you move away from him, letting the garment fall. You prepare to tie your hair with the hair tie that you always wear on your wrist. All this happens under his watchful gaze, and you can see the exact moment when his Adam's apple lowers with difficulty, biting his lip in anticipation. Especially when you kneel in front of him, while he remains seated on the edge of the bed.

-You drive me crazy,- Jake confesses in a husky tone, his eyes shining with desire as his hands slide down the straps of your silk dress, causing the garment to fall and expose your breasts. He lets out a moan, evidencing his adoration for that area of your body.

With a seductive smile, you begin to unbutton his jeans. You feel his breathing quicken, and when you finally free him from his underwear, his member reveals itself in all its firmness. The sight of his erect penis makes you lick your lips in anticipation. Therefore, you take it in your hand, caressing it gently before leaning down and leaving a kiss on the tip, never once breaking the connection of your gazes. His gasps urge you to continue, and soon your tongue traces a slow and pleasurable path along his length.

-I don't know how much longer I can take it,-he lets out in a tight sigh, letting his head fall back as you finally cover his member with your mouth, continuing to pump his length with your hand as you slowly push in more of him each time.

Every moan that escapes his lips motivates you to continue, savoring every reaction you provoke in him. You take your time, enjoying the way his body responds to your touch. His moans and sighs make you feel powerful, finally understanding what he meant when he told you there was no better feeling than this; seeing your partner writhe in pleasure for you. You moan in response as you watch him almost scream in pleasure, trying hard not to hold on to your head, letting you do it at your own pace.

Your tongue and lips work in perfect harmony, causing his breathing to become erratic. Every time you take him deeper, his body tenses and his back arches.

His hands ball into fists at his sides, fighting to maintain control.

-Beautiful…-he murmurs between moans, his voice heavy with excitement.

Your pace increases, and his moans become louder and his breathing faster. You feel a surge of power and satisfaction, knowing that you are the cause of his pleasure. As you continue, your gaze meets his again, and the connection between you becomes palpable, electrifying. You are determined to take him to the edge, enjoying every second that he completely surrenders to you.

His body trembles slightly, on the verge of climax. You slow down a little playfully, enjoying the control you have over his pleasure.

-Please- he begs, his voice cracking with need.

But instead of continuing, you pull him out of your mouth. He looks at you in confusion, his bright eyes reflecting the lost orgasm.

-You’re having fun torturing me, aren’t you?- he says, gritting his teeth in pain.

-Maybe, or maybe I have something else in mind that you’re going to love,- you say, watching as he almost faints when you squeeze his cock between your breasts and begin to slide slowly, creating a new wave of pleasure that envelops him completely.

Each movement elicits a deep moan from his lips, and his body arches again, pushing his hips into the space between your tits.

-You look so beautiful like this,-you comment, enjoying the sight of his face contorted in pleasure.

With a few more thrusts, his body shakes hard as he climaxes, his release spilling over your jaw and onto your chest. You close your eyes at the sudden impact, feeling his seed dripping onto your skin.

-I’m so sorry, love,- Jake laments, his voice laden with remorse at the sight of the mess he’s made. Instead of felina disgusted, though, you bring a finger to your skin and then bring it to your lips, tasting his essence with a mischievous smile.

Jake gapes at the sight, adoration evident in his eyes. Then, with unexpected tenderness, he gently pushes you towards him, lifting you off the ground to drag you with him into a ravishing kiss. His lips meet yours, and light giggles escape from your throats without being able to understand it.

-You're fascinating,- he says between kisses. You smile against his lips, but instantly gasp at the warmth of their skin touching.

His hands run up and down your back, moving up and down with a caress that sends shivers down your spine. You pause for a moment to look into his eyes, seeing in them a deep and unconditional love.

-I love you so much,- Both say in unison, causing you to laugh against each other's lips again.

Gently, Jake lays you down on the bed, his gaze never leaving yours. Every touch is delicate, every kiss sweet and full of meaning. You feel his love envelop you, anticipating that this could finally be his first time.

Jake takes his time, exploring every inch of your body with reverent patience, as if he were memorizing every detail. His lips brush your neck, slowly descending to your breasts, where he pauses to worship them with kisses and caresses. A soft moan escapes your lips, and he smiles.

-You are perfect for me,- he professes against your skin.

-Jake…-you reply, lost in the sensation, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Time seems to stop as you both get lost in his bubble, his lips leaving tingles wherever they go. His tongue slides beneath your navel as you feel your pajamas stop covering you completely. Getting closer to it, him completely naked and you wearing only your panties.

His fingers intertwine with the elastic of your last garment, feeling his breath hitting your intimacy on the fabric. They would finally make love; after so many occasions without being able to move forward from the same point, always being interrupted by some inopportune person or situation.

-Jake! Sunghoon is being very boring!-Ni-Ki's voice is heard from the door, followed by insistent knocks.-Time out! It's time to go to sleep! Hyung!

Both freeze, their gazes full of frustration. Jake sighs defeated, moving to one side of the bed.

-I don't think it will ever happen-you say with feigned humor, observing him from your position. It seemed like he was about to lose his mind.

The Australian lets himself fall back on the bed, looking at the ceiling in exasperation.

-I'll take you away from everything and everyone, I swear- he decrees, and you smile, reaching out to caress his cheek.

-Okay, but for now, Riki has a point. You need to rest- you agree, trying to ignore the knocks on the door.

-That's not your room!- the younger shouts from the hallway, and then you hear the crunch of your fries being chewed.

-I can't believe he's eating my fries!- you exclaim, jumping out of bed and rushing to the bathroom to clean up and get dressed before facing Ni-Ki.- I'II not allowed it.

Jake watches you as you move forward with determination. His lips curve into a smile, feeling a warm tickle in his stomach as he witnesses all your facets and outbursts. There was no doubt that he loved every tiny atom that made you up.

[wonysugar]

it’s so over for me…. ch. 7

starbies~~ (half written)

a/n: I’M SO SORRY FOR BASICALLY POSTING THIS CHAPTER NOW😭i originally wanted to post it yesterday but thenvoekfke i passed out,,, so sorry. so uhm?? next chapter coming out later today<33 thank you

other, late a/n but uhm this was written wayy before the whole boycott situation.. so uhm don’t go to starbucks!! isofm!yn and isofm!ning are also boycotting as we speak so BE LIKE THEM! free palestine :]

running into ning today wasn’t something you had originally planned, since, you know, you barely even go to starbucks in the first place. today was just some sort of craving you randomly got while doing your assignments.

you approached her, laying gentle taps on her shoulder, causing her to turn around. her resting bitch face immediately turning into a wide grin upon seeing you. you were flattered, in a way. you never really doubted your guys’ friendship, but you didn’t except such an enthusiastic reaction from her.

“oh. my. god. y/n!!! it’s so great seeing you!” she exclaimed, grabbing you by the arm and jumping up and down which earned very intense stares from the other customers there with you, and despite not usually wanting to draw any attention, you didn’t really give a fuck about it, you still quietly greeted her back, wearing a bright smile.

she offered to pay for your drink, to which you hesitantly accepted, despite her being very financially stable for a college student. plus, you never really go to starbucks, so, after reluctantly accepting, you told her to get you whatever she thought was good. she proceeded to order some sort of thing that sounded like a cryptic harry potter spell, to which the barista apparently immediately understood.

you acquired your order minutes before she did, so you took the chance to settle at the closest table. it didn’t take long for her to sit down facing you, her hand holding a bag containing a chocolate chip cookie with her pinkie and somehow managing to grab ahold of some unknown drink. her other hand holding what seemed to be a… pumpkin spice latte..? you weren’t too experienced, but pretty much everyone knew what a pumpkin spice latte was.

“i didn’t peg you for a white girl, ning.” you said, jokingly squinting your eyes at her as she rolls hers.

“oh shut upp.. that one isn’t even for me,” she vaguely motions at the ‘forbidden’ drink, “aeri asked me to get it for her.” she clarified, your eyebrows unconsciously lifting themselves up. aeri, huh.

whatever, you didn’t care about her. you never did, so why were you so.. immediately uptight at the thought of her?? quickly, you switched the topic of the conversation and focused on talking about other things. the exams coming up, future hangout plans, both of your friend groups.

“oh yeah, i forgot to tell you, by the way, there was like this one private account on twitter that dmed me, and they were like?? asking to kiss me or whatever and it happened the same day you guys went apeshit and like.. apologized about it yesterday.” you quickly took a sip from your very good drink, kept note that ning had incredibly good taste, then carried on, “the apology in question was mostly just them being an ass, so. that was weird!” you giggled.

upon looking at her expression, you noticed that she didn’t seem to find it as humorous as you did. instead, she looked like she was trying to force out a fake giggle, but couldn’t.

“girl, you good?”

“no yeah. i am. i’m great, even.” she cleared her throat, taking comically large sips of her drink, basically finishing all of it in one go. what the fuck?

you stared at her dead-panned, you knew her, you knew that looking at her that way would eventually get her to say what’s on her mind.

and you were correct in thinking that!

“ughh okay don’t tell anyone i told you this and under no circumstances do you tell this to aeri but… okay so we-got-really-drunk-and-high-and-she’s-the-one-that-sent-you-those-messages-and-the-account-she-used-was-her-private-one—“

she then stared at you, apparently expectant of something. the only thing that you could do at that moment was pull out your phone and open up twitter.

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[agent-troi]

great points on Diana. I can't quite figure out what I think about her narrative yet. I didn't like when she first appeared because she came across and part of a suspicious character, and her appeal was very unappealing. When Gibson is ready to disclose who Mulder is thinking about, oh boy does she want to know to stop up the pot. She's aggressive but in a frozen manner. What I mean by that is her facial expressions seem frozen, her voice is almost stilted, and her eyes lack the dance that we see in Scully' and Mulder's. I also don't know what to think about her because she didn't get a real conclusion. We are told that she is killed, but was she? Maybe she is just reassigned to do something else. I wanted to see the closure or some actual redemption of her alliance with CSM.

With that being said, when do you think Mulder figured out that Diana was lying to him and couldn't be trusted? Was it the night that he went to her apartment or when he was in his mind-reading, psychosis state? AND, do you think that during the Diana period, after work or on the weekends, Mulder and Diana had some flings or some sort of relationship?

Did Mulder choose Scully or did he get Scully by default because Diana was removed from the equation?

diana was soooo underutilized. i had vaguely heard of her before i reached her part of the story and i was expecting this big, huge, MSR-shattering deal, and then she was hardly ever on screen. i get that the actress wasn't available very often, but then don't try to make a love triangle if she's only going to be in five episodes and the rest of the time it's like she doesn't even exist.

frozen is a perfect word to describe her. she's just so insincere so much of the time. everything is a performance, tailored specifically to get mulder on her side. she's basically a more subtle version of phoebe imo; manipulative, but in a way that can slide under the radar if you're not looking for it (which mulder isn't; he wants to believe she wants the best for him).

i'm so annoyed that she was killed off-screen lmao. this show brought back jeffrey spender after we saw him get shot, brought back csm after he was literally blown up in a fiery explosion, but we don't even see diana die and she never comes back?? i'm suspicious...

(btw if you're looking for fics where she wasn't actually killed in amor fati, Gaslight by @sisterspooky1013 and Pause by @cecilysass are two of the best imo, and if you're looking for a redemption story/something that actually fleshes out her character a bit more, I recommend The Whole Truth by @admiralty-xfd and The Only Answer by me lmao)

as for when mulder finally figured out he couldn't trust her, he absolutely knew it when she went to see him in the hospital and he could read her mind. there's no way he doesn't know at that point. when he went to her apartment, he was at the very least open to the possibility that she had betrayed him. he wouldn't have gone in the first place if he really thought there couldn't be anything to it. but then csm shows up and somehow that doesn't raise a big red flag so i don't think he really got it then. it's not clear at the end of one son if mulder and the others believe that diana was among those killed at the air force base, and since she never appears or is mentioned between one son and biogenesis, we don't know at what point mulder finds out she somehow survived. depending on the circumstances of his finding out, it might have raised suspicions in his mind, which were then confirmed by the mind-reading.

my answer to the question of whether mulder and diana had any flings during this period is abso-fucking-lutely not, and not just because i personally can't stand the idea. the only time i can really see it happening is when she first shows up in the season 5 finale, but there's just no time for anything like that to happen during that episode. beyond that point, mulder starts off season 6 annoyed at diana for taking over the x-files behind his back, but then scully pulls the rug out from under him at the opr hearing after he pretty much made a fool of himself declaring confidently that she was about to prove the virus was alien, so he takes diana's side in that episode out of sheer petulance. after that he's too busy chasing "vicious, long-clawed spacelings" to be bothered to have any flings, but then at the end of the episode, scully finally comes through with evidence of alien dna in the human genome. it's too late to take back the way he embarrassed himself at the opr hearing, but it begins to put them back on the same page. and then during the period when they're off the x-files, mulder's digging through the trash in their old office to find x-files for him and scully to investigate instead of just asking diana to sneak some files out of the office for him, which i can't imagine him not doing if they're having any kind of relationship. also he’s clearly never been to diana’s apartment before one son.

this whole season is about mulder and scully dancing around the idea of being together, which is something mulder wants but is afraid to express directly, not knowing that's precisely what scully needs to hear. i just can't see him choosing to be with diana except maybe for when he's still disoriented by her sudden reappearance, and there wasn't room in the timeline of the episode for that to happen.

@randomfoggytiger broke down the progression of mulder and scully's relationship during season 6 very well, and i have nothing to add except that yes, mulder chose scully, this whole season is about mulder choosing scully, learning to appreciate her and to express that appreciation the way she wants him to. diana really is irrelevant in the end.

[ode-to-fury]

By Firelight

Pairing: Gale/Tav (pre relationship denial)

Summary: Gale can’t sleep, and he’s not… happy about Tav being up, but he’s not not happy about it. (I.e. I was trying to practice my showing not telling and I actually quite liked it)

Gale turned over for the upteenth time before huffing out a frustrated breath. Damn his godsforsaken back to the hells. No matter the position he attempted to lie in, something hurt. His bedroll was hardly a bulwark against the cold, hard, frankly unfathomably rocky ground.

He knew in reality it was the orb. It was always the orb. The artifact that Tav had given him had helped. Slightly. Not enough.

His ears were still ringing faintly, and if he lay still too long it felt as though he spun through the space behind his eyes, which reminded him far too much of nights as an apprentice after the Yawning Portal. The muscle spasms hadn’t quite started yet, but they would. He was all too aware they would. His cure was no cure anymore, and it worried him. Greatly.

To add insult to injury, he was perfectly aware he could probably conjure himself a comfortable featherbed.

He was also perfectly aware that such an act would expose him to enthusiastic and earnest ridicule from the rest of their merry little band.

He huffed once more, and decided he would give up for the night and try and read for a while. He grabbed the first book he could find in the darkness of his tent and crawled out through the flap.

It was a dark night tonight. The moon was only a small sliver amongst the stars, and occasional clouds obscured even that faint light.

The fire was crackling merrily, and Tav sat with her back to the stone in the middle of their camp, staring at the dancing flames. There was the small line of a frown between her brows, and Scratch lay with his head pillowed on her lap, her fingers absently scratching behind one upright ear.

He cleared his throat so he wouldn’t startle her, and her grey eyes flicked to him, then back at the fire.

“I was under the impression you’d already taken your watch earlier this evening,” he said.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she replied shortly. “Thought I’d let Wyll get some more rest instead of both of us being awake.”

“Very prudent of you.”

He groaned as he sat down next to her, leaning back against the rock. It was cool, which was soothing against the aching in his back.

She glanced sideways at him, then back at the flames. From here, he could only see one corner of her mouth, a faint scar trailing along her jaw. He found himself wondering how she’d gotten it. Scratch reached out his nose to sniff at Gale’s hand, then, when he had determined there was no immediate threat, returned to being pampered.

He was glad, selfishly, that she had told Wyll to go back to sleep. He… he enjoyed her company. Was glad of it tonight. It seemed to him, no matter how bleak their circumstances appeared to be, when she grinned her crooked grin, that everything would end up perfectly fine.

“What book?” She asked after a while. Gale started slightly, realizing he’d been sitting there with the book unopened for too long.

He cleared his throat.

“A treatise on the crafting of magic shields and the various attributes of each different type,” he said. “I found it in that ruined temple we explored, though I haven’t yet found the time to study it. Of course, there are quite a few thoughts in the school of abjuration on various magic shields and their uses, and then you have the regional differences, I mean- if you’ve ever read a text originating from Amn and the wizards there you’ll find they approach the entire concept differently from even the beginning of spellcasting when compared to here or even Calimshan. Though the Calishite school again has other ideas on the concept but the point I was trying to make is how region and even regional ways of thinking can influence- “

He stopped when he realised she was looking at him with a small smile on her face.

“What?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” she said, jerking her head toward the fire. “I- I suppose I always thought a shield was a shield.”

He laughed.

“Believe me," he said, grinning, “Many an apprentice thought the same thing before our first abjuration lesson at Blackstaff.”

She looked over at him, frowning, then shook her head.

“You’ve never had any instruction?” He asked.

“Would it make a difference?” She asked sharply.

He held up his hands in a placating gesture.

“A simple question. In fact, I think it’s very impressive you’ve managed so much with no education, especially given the volatile nature of your magic. There was one sorcerer in my class at Blackstaff, but he was of a draconic line, and to my understanding their magic is much less erratic than some other origins’.”

She was still frowning at him.

“Sometimes,” she said slowly, “I can’t tell whether you’re giving me a compliment or not.”

He winced.

“I assure you,” he said, somewhat apologetically, “It was intended as one.”

He tried for a sheepish smile.

“I’m afraid I’m out of practice.”

One of her eyebrows lifted.

“At compliments?”

“Partly.”

He realised they were moving into dangerous territory, and if she asked any further questions he would not have answers for her. He- he didn’t want to tell her about the orb, or Mystra. Asking for artefacts had already somewhat broken her trust in him.

It was… nice. To have a friend. Besides Tara, of course. Though Tav was much less of a nursemaid than Tara was. Between the two of them he’d never be short on scathing remarks, however. Or stubbornness. For the time being, he would pretend as though he was not a shell of his former self, merely until he had found a different way of sating his arcane hunger. Then he would cease being a burden or a liabillity to her and the others.

“I’ve had… some instruction,” she said, snapping him back tot he present. “Over the years, whenever I liked a spell someone cast, or needed to learn something for survival. Other things just happened naturally, like throwing up a shield the first time an arrow came firing at me.”

He watched as firelight flickered across her face. Her nose was turned upward, and he found himself tracing the slope of it with his eyes.

“And summoning a cow to drop from the sky?”

She tried and failed to hide a grin as she shot him a look. A deep dimple appeared in her cheek. He’d never met anyone with dimples before her. Such an endearingly human imperfection.

“That doesn’t count,” she said. “I didn’t do that on purpose.”

He shook his head.

“It took me two months to work out how to summon a tressym,” he said.

“In this world, Gale, there are people with talent,” she lay a hand on her chest, “And people without.”

She looked at him pointedly, and he burst into laughter.

Again, she watched him with that small smile, and he found himself returning it.

“If it makes you feel any better, my father was livid.”

He shrugged.

“My mother was not much better, but she forgave me eventually, I suppose. And let me keep the tressym.”

She snorted softly.

“Good for you.” Her gaze returned to the flames, and he realised he might have touched on a sensitive subject.

“You still owe me the rest of that story, you know,” he nudged her arm with his elbow, regretted it immediately when she tensed.

“You still owe me that drink to go with it,” she said. He did not miss that she moved away from him slightly.

“I could, ah, read to you,” he found himself saying, if only diffuse the tension he had just created. “If you wish. Though the book may be out of date by several decades, if not centuries, based on the penmanship alone.”

She grimaced, looking over at the book he held as though she was looking at a particularly unpleasant bug.

“A treatise? On magic shields?” She asked.

“Forgive me,” he said, feigning understanding, “I could also explain some of the more foreign concepts, as your lack of education would be a hindrance.”

She rolled her eyes at him, and only the faintest shadow of a dimple showed in her cheek.

“I normally prefer different books.”

“Different?”

“More interesting?”

“More interesting than an ancient academic treatise on shields?” He asked in mock outrage.

She rolled her eyes at him.

“I like adventure stories,” she said finally. “You know, where the valiant prince rescues the maiden in distress, or vanquishes a dragon, or two young lovers have to stand up to their families.”

He grinned.

“You didn’t strike me as the type.”

“No?”

“No. You seem far too cynical to be caught up in any adventures that are not your own.”

“Well,” she said, shrugging, “Looks can be decieving.”

Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she looked at him, just for a second, and a dimple showed again as she gave him another crooked grin. So different from the cynical adventurer he had met but a week ago.

“I suppose they can be,” he said softly, and found that he was grinning back at her again.

She looked back at the fire, and Gale cleared his throat slightly, feeling suddenly as though he shouldn’t be looking at her at all.

“You can read to me,” she said. “If you’d like. Believe it or not, I like learning. About magic especially.”

She shrugged.

“If anything it will make the time go more quickly.”

So Gale did.

And later, just before dawn, when her head drooped onto his shoulder he told himself he didn’t think much of it, and that she was simply tired.

He let her sleep, however, without complaint, savouring the first friendly touch he’d felt since she’d pulled him from that rock, and realised that he had forgotten to worry about the orb since the moment he’d set eyes on her.

[thefangirlfever]

DBF! Miguel O'hara x reader (part 1)

Summary: After your father's accident and given his poor health, you had to go back to your hometown. You meet one of his best friends and things get more complicated.

Tags: fluff, angst, F/M, age gap (Reader is in her late twenties and Miguel is in his late forties), taboo relationship, mention of death, reader is a woman of color

Notes: English is not my first language. I don't know how many parts there will be to this story but there will also be headcanons attached to it.

I hope you'll like it!

=============================================

It was a normal day of September when you received the text from your uncle. It was short and you knew every single word of it would stick with you for the rest of the day.

"Something happened."

You should have seen it coming. He was already 55 and there were plenty of warning signs. And yet, you were surprised reading this message. Something happened and it was not anything. Your dad was in the hospital. He fell during the night in his bathroom. His ankle was broken and he had to crawl down the cold tile of the small room to get back to his phone, to try to get some help. When he finally managed to call 911, he still had to wait for another long time. It was probably shorter than what you could imagine but you couldn't stop picturing him, his limp leg lying down the floor, his back against the wall as he tries to sit up despite the agonizing pain around his ankle... How could this man, this strength of nature, fall? You've never seen him falling, not once. He did see you falling though, whether you were trying to learn how to ride your bike, to dance or just running down the stairs a little too fast... And every time you fell, you could be sure he would be there to help you get up. Where were you when it was his turn to fall down?

In less than a week, everything was settled. You had given the keys of your apartment to your best friend, asked for a leave at work (which you got easily given the number of hours you spend there even if your sudden departure got a few people mumbling) and you had booked a flight to the other end of the country. Packing up for this trip was not complicated and everything you needed could easily fit in two suitcases. You had just moved there a few months ago and even if you felt bad complaining, a lot of people were not as lucky as you to have their own home, you didn't feel like this was your home. Maybe if you had moved in under better circumstances, it would have been easier to make this place your own, decorating it, adding some much needed colors or a few of these cute knick-knacks you used to be fond of. But you didn't and a small part of you was glad that you finally had an opportunity to leave, even if it was for a short time. Again, this made you feel bad, awful even. There was nothing to be delighted about when you had to go back to your hometown because of your father's sickness.

He would be out of the hospital when you would arrive, and you couldn't help but feel the bitterness in your uncle's voice when he told you that. Even if he didn't explicitly say it, you could feel he resented you for not coming sooner and there was a bit of reproach in the way he would say that he already has so much things going on with his work; he definitely didn't need that at this moment; how his wife was tired of all these long nights they spend at the hospital, how concerned he was... it was a not-so-subtle way to tell you that he didn't find you this worried about all of this. If you were this concerned, you would already be there, like a good daughter would. What was holding you back in the city? Must be nothing good... In his mind, you were living the life of a depraved, the city corrupting you, and it was why you were not able to get back home, where your place was, where your duty as a daughter was calling you. Even if it was hard to admit, you did feel guilty for not coming back home sooner. In fact you haven’t taken any time to visit your father for six months now.

And when you stepped into your hometown, you immediately knew why. Nothing has changed. Most people would find this comforting but you didn’t. It felt like being trapped inside a circle, an enclosure you couldn’t get away, just the same way you felt when you were a teenager, dreaming of bigger spaces.

Of course some small changes have occurred over the last years. A new coffee had opened on Main Street, the fences and glasses of the church have been restored and a couple of dozen of houses have been build in the suburbs. As for your family house, well… The moment you saw it, it felt like a pinch to your heart. It was exactly like you remembered it to be. The red facade, the ivy running up toward your bedroom window, which would made you feel like a princess when you were younger, the swing hanging from the tree in the backyard… It was like looking at a stiff life and for a few seconds you just watched this house as if it was both the gates to Hell and Heaven. You knew it would be worse once you stepped inside but it was too late for leaving.

Dead laves cracked under your steps as you moved towards the front door. After taking a deep breath, you managed to ring the bell. You knew it would take your father some time to come open the door and you were ready to wait when the door suddenly opened. And standing in front of you was a man you never saw before. You almost stepped back, surprised and wondering if you actually made a mistake, but it couldn’t be possible… This was your home.

The man however seemed to recognize you, almost as if he had been waiting for your arrival. He extended his arm toward you and said in a warm voice:

“Nice to meet you. I’m Miguel. You must be Y/N?”

It took your mind a moment to remember where you already heard this name and then it finally clicked. Your father had told you a few times about a friend of him called Miguel. Miguel O’hara. You had imagined an older-looking man and not the sight that was in front of you. Despite a few gray hair and the marks on his face, like the small creases around his eyes and the corner of his lips, he still looked in good shape. You wouldn’t say that he looked young, but he definitely had a more youthful aura around him than most people around his age.

Since your uncle and wife have gotten back to their place, he was probably here visiting your father. You were glad he was not alone and you tried to express your gratefulness with a genuine smile. Miguel smiled back at you and finally let you enter the house. Usually people would bombard you with so many questions about your trip, how you felt, how was life in the big city. You would usually politely answer but he didn’t ask any of these questions to you. Instead he kept this calm and composed look on his face, helped you taking off your coat and told you that your father as waiting for you in the living room. You had not difficulties navigating through the house, at least not technically. As you had anticipated it, the insides of this place you called home made you feel even more nostalgic than the outside, especially when it came to the framed pictures hanging on the wall.

The old man you saw in the living room was not your dad, you couldn’t believe it. Nothing had changed, except him. His hair that you used to know as thick and dark, just like yours, looked like they were sprinkled with snow. His temples were completely gray and his face looked softer as if he was tired. But the worst was probably the cast around his leg. As you expected it, when he fell down a few weeks, ago, he broke his leg. You didn’t dare to make a move, watching him from afar until he opened his arms for you, asking with a smile that you could recognize, a mischievous one:

“So, you’re not even going to say hello to your old man?”

You rushed toward him and hugged him back, trying to be as careful as possible with his leg. You remember a time when you used to be a kid and those same arms would lift you up high, so high you thought you could touch the sky and you mom would have to tell him to stop, especially when he wanted to throw you around to play. You were now the one in charge of lifting him up.

============================================

next part >

[skzcollision]

churchboy!felix x afab!reader (5/7)

| 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 |

genre: fluff, smut, teen angst

synopsis: certain expectations come with being a pastor’s daughter. in everyone’s eyes you are a properly behaved girl, albeit rather timid. according to your parents, you aren’t as devoted to the church as you should be. they entrust you to an old family friend’s son, deeming him to be a good influence. these circumstances bring you two closer together and stir up all kinds of emotions.

MINORS DNI

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“What do you want to do?”

Scraping the bottom of your cup, you scoop up the last of the creamy gelato, humming around the plastic spoon in contemplation. You really haven’t given it much thought. Your only goal is to be free from your parents and the life they have set for you—which you’ve just told Felix, and everything you have been planning once the school year commences.

“I- I don’t know. Honestly I didn’t even think about it, all I know is, I want to be in charge of my own life for once.” You say, dropping the spoon into the empty cup. “I’ve just enrolled myself in General Studies for now.”

Felix nods in understanding. He reaches forward to pinch your cheek, a comforting smile on his face. “You’ll figure it out. I know you will,” he then gets up to throw your cups away.

“How about you? Where will you be living?” You lift your gaze, squinting through the sunlight. He has told you about the tech university he’ll be attending in September. Like the school you’ve chosen, it is also in the heart of the city, so it would be a bit of a drive from your town.

He returns to his spot next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “My older sister lives pretty close by so I’ll be moving in with her.”

You grin excitedly and lean into him. “So you’ll be near.”

His eyes crinkle with glee. “I’ll be near.”

“Oh, and just so you know,” his brows raise as you move your lips by his ear, speaking in a hushed tone. “I’ve applied for a single dorm.”

When you pull away, his dark eyes bore into your own and he deadpans, “I guess that means no more fooling around in churches.”

You laugh, resting your head against his chest.

Felix jerks from suppressing his own laughter, and buries his face into your hair. “Still can’t believe we did that… I hope we didn’t miss anything cleaning up.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell everyone it was Alice and Jason,” you say, placing a repugnant image in your heads. He dissolves into snickers.

It would be quite the scandal. Everyone knows that the aforementioned couple is waiting until marriage to even have their first kiss so holding hands is the furthest they could have gone.

You turn to him after a few beats of silence. “Hey Lix,” he quirks a brow when he hears the seriousness in your tone. “Do you really believe in God? Like if it weren’t for your parents…”

He pauses for a moment to think.

“It’s not that I believe in him—it’s more that I want to. Like if I put my faith into something, maybe I could also learn to have some faith in myself… Like I could erase my uncertainties about the future and believe that things will work out for me because… because you know, they always say that he has a plan for us. Or something like that… I don’t know…”

Felix trails off, suddenly hyper aware of himself under the weight of your gaze. He has the habit of rambling and trying to express his every single thought, which you find endearing, but he gets flustered when the things he says seem to go nowhere.

You get what he’s trying to say though, you know that he has had some issues with his self confidence and more often than not doubts himself. He’s the type of person that is too busy building others up with positivity, that he forgets to do the same for himself.

But you’ve been staring for too long.

A quiet chuckle leaves him. “Maybe you think that’s lame, but–“

“No, no, that makes perfect sense.” You assure him, waving your hands frantically. “I could never think that you’re lame.”

His lips make a loud smack when he kisses the top of your head and you both beam at each other.

“M’sorry, that was a lie.” You say jokingly, sucking in air through clenched teeth. “You’re pretty lame at Mario Kart.”

“Mmm,” he narrows his eyes. “I believe I let you win that time.”

“Sure you did.”

“Don’t get all cocky now just ‘cause I felt sorry for you.”

“You are mean, you know that?”

“It all comes from a place of love,” he murmurs before softly pressing his lips to yours.

“Love?” You whisper against his mouth.

“Love.” He affirms, grinning.

Your summer is filled with moments like this.

Biking through rough, gravelly paths, finding empty fields to dump your bikes onto. Rolling around in fresh uncut grass, revelling in each other’s presence.

Whispers of sweet nothings, limbs so jumbled up you don’t know where one begins and one ends. His rough, but plush lips, chapped from all the wind and laughter, made soft again when you kiss—until your mouths are sore and pink. Calloused fingers caressing your exposed skin, as if memorizing every curve and detail of your body.

“I remember the first time I saw you,” he remarks, breaking the silence that has settled upon you two.

Felix is lying on the grass, his arms crossed behind his head and face tilted towards the blue skies. You’re on your knees next to his motionless body, trying to get his nose just right.

“We were in bible study, and you were sketching in your notebook—just like you are now.” Freckles dance as the corners of his mouth lift up, eyes falling on your concentrated face. “You were so focused. Like you were off in your own world.”

You glance up from your sketch pad, ceasing the rapid scratching of your pencil.

“Think that’s when I started liking you.”

Heart skipping a beat at his confession, your lips part in surprise. “Really? That far back?”

His parents have been around ever since you were a kid, but Felix had stayed with his grandparents for a good portion of his life before moving into town, so you really only got to meet each other when you were both fourteen. You never suspected that he had feelings for you. He hid it well.

“Mhm,” he smiles widely now, finding your astonishment amusing. “You didn’t even acknowledge me then, but I always looked forward to watching you draw.”

“Psh–“ You scoff, returning to your portrait of him, struggling to contain your smile. “You fall in love way too easily.”

“Only ‘cause it’s you.” He nudges your knee with his elbow, but you refuse to make eye contact now.

Somehow you’re the one feeling all exposed and vulnerable, even though he’s laid out for you to observe and draw.

“Well if you liked me for that long, how come you never said anything?”

You can hear the movements of the grass when he shrugs. “Because I was scared?”

“Of my father?” A breathless laugh breaks through your voice.

Your mother is actually more daunting in comparison. Although your father has a stern and severe air about him, he is quite short and frail looking standing next to her. Your father never smiles, but your mother smiles a concerning amount, and they are never genuine—which makes it more unsettling.

“No,” he says it like it’s obvious. “Of you.”

This gets you to finally look at him. “Me?”

“Yeah, you,” his fingers tickle the outside of your thigh. He stares deeply into your eyes, pupils blown out. “Even now you scare me. You make me question everything I’ve ever known, you bring out this side of me that…”

“That?” You mutter, suddenly feeling short of breath.

WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT

Words are not needed. He pushes everything you’re holding aside, leading you onto your back. Tufts of grass poke at your arms and back, but he lays your head gently on his folded hoodie. Caging you in his arms, he gazes at you for what feels like an eternity, fingers stroking your hair, your rosy cheek, then your lips.

Felix whispers your name, so simple yet, it impacts you so intensely, you don’t know how or why but warm tears prick your eyes. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you, like you’re something so precious and worthy, or– you don’t know, you’re not thinking straight and you aren’t making any sense right now.

His lips are on yours in a flash, and you let yourself slip into that boundless space with him.

Your head feels light, every touch, every kiss, stealing air from your lungs. His body presses tightly against yours, hearts beating alongside each other.

Then he’s asking you a question, something you don’t fully process but say yes to anyway because the answer is always yes when it comes to Felix.

Sunlight pierces your eyes when he moves down your body, settling his face in between your thighs and pushing up your skirt. His hands are on either side of your underwear and he’s looking up at you for confirmation.

Only then you realize what he just asked you, and your heart pounds with excitement. “Yes, yes, please…”

The anticipation buzzing through your body is soothed when he finally swipes his tongue across your slit, fingers gently parting your folds and allowing obscene access to your most sensitive part. Felix is careful, calculated, his wet muscle swirling and laviciously curling around your clit.

Your body switches from tensing up to falling limp, swimming with pleasure from his ministrations. Expletives and sounds of ecstasy escape your mouth, urging him on. His fingers dimple the flesh of your thighs, keeping you open as he dives further into you, until his forehead is pressed against your lower abdomen and all you see is a head of hair.

His mouth has fully invaded you now, lips cupping around the bundle of nerves as he eagerly licks up into your sweet cunt. He groans against you, voice raspy and resonant. The vibrations only bring you closer to your release.

Your hips have started rocking into his face and he locks his arms around your thighs as he now messily eats you out, letting you use his mouth to your greatest pleasure.

Your mind goes blank, and for a moment, it feels as though you are floating. Felix holds you down, taking everything you’re giving him, thumbs skimming across your smooth skin.

He collapses next to you, breathing hard.

It takes a while for you to gather yourself, enough to say something at least. “How– how did you…”

Felix turns his head to you, smiling cheekily. “Did a little bit of research.”

“Damn good research,” you sigh, at a loss of words as you swing your body to rest against his.

He chuckles, pulling you tightly onto him, kissing you on the head then all over your face.

You are still dizzy from the day as you are biking your way home. Things had to end a little early because your mom decided to be a buzzkill and started sending you texts telling you to go home.

A melody hanging from your smiling lips, you walk through that door, only to be ripped out of your contentment by your mother.

She stands with her hands on her hips, lips pressed into a thin line. Suddenly you’re eight years old again, getting in trouble for something as trivial as leaving the kitchen tap dripping.

“Care to explain what this is?” Only it is a much more serious matter than that. A letter falls open from the hand she holds out in front of you.

A letter from school that you have hidden in your drawer.

You gulp, holding yourself firm despite your shaking limbs. “I’m going, mom.”

A smile creeps onto her face, more so a grimace, as she steps towards you. “So this is how you repay us, after all we’ve done to raise you.”

“It’s just a school.”

“Is it,” she laughs coldly. “You go to that school, then what? You stop going to church, start partying, doing drugs–“

You scoff in disbelief at her major overreaction. “Mom, that is so–“

“I have always known what you are,” she voices ominously, staring at you with pure disgust, as if you were vermin and not of her own flesh and blood. Then that piece of paper is thrown at your face, her countenance turning fiery.

“You’ve done it now,” she raises a hand—a scene all too familiar to you.

It triggers your fight or flight response and suddenly you’re ripping open the door, almost tripping on your own feet as you rush out of that house. Heart racing wildly in your chest, you bolt down the driveway, ignoring her shouts.

Hot tears spill from your eyes and onto the screen of your phone as you press the button to call Felix.

⭒

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[malewife-overlord]

Six Cycles Later -- Part III Invert

um. so its been a while. hi sorry for the long gap between updates ive been. so burnt out. recently just been trying to take time for myself and not create stuff because ive just been so tired. working full time at a job i dont really love but need to get by, and like...just trying to keep afloat...has been so stressful man. but anyways. i did manage to get this next chapter out and had fun with it :> i do intend to continue this story im just kinda...slow. sorry to my five readers

that out of the way!!!! here's the next chapter >:3c who's ready for whats hiding in the demon swamp!!!! yay!

word count: 5046 there IS a trigger warning for this chapter -- self harm. also, a bit of bigotry. seekers arent regarded super well by everyone else, it would appear.

also! this chapter features a cameo from @callsign-relic's Starburst :) check her out if youre interested in him! he's super cute <3 thank you for letting me rough your boy up Relic!

chapter below cut! previous chapter can be found here and beginning can be found here

“LET ME OUT!”

At the sound of the voice her spark leaped in its chamber. Invert grinned despite her prior grievances, the swamp and all of its horrors left behind. Though no one could see it, she raised an arm and waved. 

“I’m here! I hear you! I’m coming! Hold on!”

Water splashed around her pedes as she practically sprinted for the ship, concerns of an Autobot ambush cast aside as its dark entrance yawned. The buzzing grew in volume as she closed the distance, and though she was loath to fully disable her audials, she found she had no choice. Her helm was threatening to split from noise alone.

Whoever was in this ship had to be strong, she could feel it. She ran over her options again: Bombshell, Shrapnel, Kickback. Which had she decided was the most useful? Oh, whoever, she didn’t really care! Well, maybe she did a little, but truly, she’d be grateful just to have another ‘con around. Someone who was on her side. Someone who she could plan with and fight by. Even if they were, according to the data pack, a bit hard to get along with.

Oh well. She would top the pecking order in no time. They didn’t know what she was capable of, and they’d learn fast to respect her. 

The interior of the ship was larger than it seemed from the outside, as most Decepticon ships tended to be. The floor before her was completely underwater, its silver squares smothered by a thick layer of dark organic grime. The walls were colored purple, though their paint had long stripped. Water stains alongside long white streaks of organic substance decorated her surroundings. On the far right, where the front of the ship rested comfortably, the bridge sat in ruin. 

If she was a bit more concerned about escaping the planet, perhaps she would have been distressed by that fact. But Invert couldn’t have cared less at the moment, for her optics were focused on the barely glowing sign hanging above a broken door across from her. The Insecticon ship was small, with only a bridge, a large main area, and a side compartment for the med bay. Under most circumstances, that compartment was sealed, but the presence of the entrance told her all she needed to know about where to find her future friend. 

She left the bridge and the main area behind, taking a step down into the cramped quarters of the med bay. And there, bundled against the wall like a clutch of eggs, sat five stasis pods. 

Three were open. One was dark. And the last one—

It looked like it had been almost destroyed.

The metal was warped and bulged outwards. The glass was cracked and shards of it sparkled beneath the stagnant water. Deep gouges tore up the walls beside the pod. She could see scuff marks on the floor and what looked like burns on the ceiling. The display on the pod was glitching and barely functional, showcasing error codes and a single life signal. 

She furrowed her optical ridges, wondering just what had happened here to incur such damage. 

Well, it was of no major significance to her. Whatever had happened here had passed, and all it had left behind was an Insecticon soldier ready to burst forth and support his cause. Her audials indicated that the source of the buzzing, and logically, the screaming, was the pod. In fact…as she stepped closer, they displayed warnings: the sound being produced would cause damage if listened to at such range, even with muted audials, for elongated periods of time. 

He was strong. Sound based powers? She was reminded of Soundwave and his cassettes. Would this Insecticon also have something similar, then? But how would he–

Nope, not even thinking of it. That was gross organic stuff. She needed to focus on anything but the fact he was mimicking a filthy organic. Yes, all she needed to focus on was releasing him from the pod. 

Approaching it, she took additional note of the severe damage to the door–its seal was incomplete, which possibly indicated stasis failure. The dents on its middle pushed out in the molded shapes of angry fists. On the sides she could see the groove of hands where it had been gripped with enough force to bend in both ways. 

Claw marks on the wall, punches on the door, warping on the edges. Invert wasn’t stupid. Whoever—or whatever—had been forced into this pod had only done so after fighting for his life. 

Why?

She couldn’t see very well inside—though the shape of the Insecticon’s head was discernible, a layer of moisture had formed inside, obscuring his details from her sight. Was he battle damaged? Had he been frozen inside screaming?

Was that why the pod was buzzing so loudly?

She had no answers yet, but she could certainly assume that he was probably rusting in there, with all that water. She didn’t know his story in the slightest, or why he hadn’t been with the other Insecticons, but considering her circumstances, she didn’t have many options besides opening his pod. If she trusted her preservation instincts, which told her this was a terrible idea, she left behind her only potential ally left on this planet. Whatever circumstances had seen him trapped in his stasis pod were likely behind him. She’d just have to trust that he wasn’t as violent as the area around him seemed to indicate. 

Besides. Insecticons were unsavory on their best days, completely uncooperative on their worst. She was probably seeing the results of a spat between the four, soon to be three. 

Three. They’d really trapped one of their brethren in their ship and abandoned him for years. 

Scowling, Invert tapped the broken screen, trying to see if she could convince it to initiate release. 

It gave no such indication. She tapped again, trying to pull up any kind of menu. Besides more error messages, the screen gave no further function. 

“Come on!” She said aloud, giving the pod a kick. 

Whatever was inside reacted. She saw the head turn towards her. The sensation of optics locking onto her form creeped up her back.  

Invert’s spark tightened from both fear and excitement. Oh. He was awake. That meant…oh. That was why he’d been able to make the noise. He had been frozen screaming. The faulty seal had likely forced his body into stasis, but not his mind. 

LET ME O U T 

Her audials indicated they’d picked up on words. She ex-vented through her dentae. 

“Uh, hi!” She said, waving a hand. “Um, I’m Invert. I got your distress call! I’m here to get you out.”

The Insecticon did not move. 

“I’ll, uh, get on that, then. Do you have any idea how to open this pod? Any recommendations or tips? I’ve never been in this ship, so…”

Nothing. 

“Right, on my own again, gotcha.” She turned away and rolled her optics. 

Okay, if the pod didn’t want to behave because it was broken, she could force it. Grabbing the bent edge of the door, she planted a pede against the wall and pulled with all her might. Her joints creaked in protest, but the door didn’t budge in the slightest. 

Frowning, she searched around for a tool, coming back with a metal pipe found submerged at the back of the ship. Jamming it between the door and the pod’s edges, she braced herself against the wall and tried to forcibly pry the door open–only for the pipe to snap and fly across the room. 

Invert cursed and retrieved the blaster she’d brought with herself, pointing it at the seal. A purple glow illuminated the dark ship as she fired several blasts in, succeeding in adding more sear marks, but not breaking or melting the metal in the slightest. 

The door wasn’t budging. She scowled. Looking at the glass, she could see the Insecticon watching her, probably thinking about how pathetically this mass-produced, one-trick Seeker was failing to perform a single task.

Well, she’d damn well show him. Brute force wasn’t her style anyways. She had one trick that was sure to work, and prove that she was worth keeping around–and respecting. 

Oh, he’d damn well respect her, if he was already thinking so negatively about her. 

For Invert had a special ability, one that had kept her around despite how often she’d heard other ‘cons whispering about having her deactivated. It might be an ability that was difficult to use, incredibly dangerous on her best days, and ran the chance of killing her every time she used it, but it was hers. It set her apart from her Seeker brethren. It made her special. 

It made her worth keeping around. 

She stepped back from the pod and smirked. So far she’d only used her ability on other Cybertronians, but she saw no reason it wouldn’t work on their technology as well. It wasn’t like she’d been given time or items to test it on, when resources had already been so slim on Earth. This could serve as a beta test for it, probably. Though, she had to wonder…would it damage the Insecticon inside?

…Once again, she didn’t know. Didn’t really matter, probably–it would be the start of their pecking order. Her on the top, him keeping a distance at all times. 

“Hey, Insecticon?” She said, “I’m going to try and get you out. There might be some sparks, so try not to panic!” 

The Insecticon in the pod did not respond to her words or her movements. His head remained turned towards her. She could feel optics locking onto her, sizing up. Trying equally to determine if she was one to be kicked around.

The buzzing had stopped, her audials indicated. In its absence, the silence hung like the organic slime outside.

“Well, alright then.”

To use her ability, she’d have to mess with her T-Cog. It was always easier said than done. Her T-Cog was located in her side, as it was with all Seekers. All she had to do was plunge her servos through her plating and manually crank it. The plating on her side was intentionally thinner for this purpose, meaning any old blaster could deactivate her with a proper shot. And whether it was blaster fire or servos, thin plating did not change the fact that, no matter how her ability was activated, it would hurt.

Easier said than done. Always easier said than done. But she couldn’t show weakness now. They didn’t even know one another’s name, but the pecking had already begun, and she was not about to be on the bottom. 

Invert hovered her servos over her side, ex-venting again. She hadn’t used her ability since before the attack on Autobot City. Only once had she been deployed, during a particularly nasty clash with the Autobots. ‘All soldiers on the field’ had been the order. She’d eagerly flown (tumbled) out with her fellow Seekers, and landed (crashed) straight in the thick of it. With guns pointed at her from all angles and her Seeker brethren flying overhead, ignoring her plight as she floundered amongst a group of Autobots, it wasn’t like she’d had much of a choice. 

They’d paid her more attention after everyone in a hundred foot radius hit the ground–the extent of it had been Starscream demanding why she hadn’t remained in formation and helped with the Aerialbots. She hadn’t been stable enough to properly respond, and when she tried to her voice shrieked with static. 

She didn’t remember who won that day. All she remembered was being dragged back, repaired, and left to work only in the base, since. 

Well. She wasn’t in the base anymore, and their situation demanded nothing less of her than all she had. Which meant her ability as well. 

Frag the pain. Pain made stronger soldiers. She’d be one worth respecting and keeping around no matter what. She’d grit through it like she’d grit through everything else, including flying to this damn place, drinking organics–her tank still felt like it was about to purge–and tolerating humans. Invert ex-vented one more time and held it. 

Then she punched her fist through her side and released it all in a shriek of agony. No, a war cry. It was a damn war cry and she did not feel like she was about to collapse and sob. 

Her servos found her T-Cog in a second. They immediately turned it in the wrong direction, straining her wiring and sending a jolt of pain through her. Her HUD glitched, displaying several warnings about internal damage. Then her audials shut down completely, followed by her optics, as her body tried and failed to change its shape. 

For a second she was left in the void that was never-ending, frame wracking agony. Was she still screaming? She couldn’t hear. She couldn’t feel her throat. She couldn’t feel her voice. 

Her optics onlined. No, she was still in the ship, and her faceplate was contorted from crying out, and her surroundings–

Oh, she recognized glitching when she saw it. 

The field that had formed around her, invisible and just as deadly as radiation, had already taken effect on everything powered within it. She was frozen with pain, but her frame was still standing. The same could not be said of the pod–or its occupant.

The screen had completely scrambled, error messages becoming illegible binary code. The life signal had become erratic, beating too much, beating too little, not beating at all, activating emergency stasis, disabling it. The glow fizzled, flashed, and went out as the wires within the pod gave out, unable to support itself anymore. The head she could just barely see jerked back, snapped to the side. 

The shrieking was back. Was it her own, or his? 

The pain was becoming too much. She couldn’t hold it for much longer. Her entire vision was red, the sight of the ship lost. Energy seemed to crackle around her servos, numbing her entire arm. Was she still gripping her T Cog? If she moved her arm, she certainly wouldn’t be. The numbness was spreading, blooming out from the source of her T-Cog and spreading up her arm like the stillness of death. But she held on. 

And it paid off. 

The screen on the pod fizzled out. Invert tore her arm free just as the numbness hit her shoulder, staggering against the wall and leaning on it for support. Her frame felt cold despite the 98F heat reading her temperature display indicated. How long had she been holding her ability up? She tried to check her internal timer, focusing on maintaining her venting and balance. 

Twelve seconds. She felt ready to purge. 

The groan of metal drew her attention back to the pod. In the low light, she could make out three massive, jointed claws closing around the bent edge, their deadly sharp tips already forming punctures in the metal. Her audials notified her of growling. 

Then the pod door burst like it was not a mech it contained but a bomb. In a stroke of luck, as the door hurled past her and embedded clean into the opposing wall, it missed Invert by a few inches, saving her from an untimely end at the awakening of her new ally. 

Or perhaps saving wasn’t the right word for it. For as the bot inside rose up, towering over her by almost half her height, a sinking feeling in the pit of her tank told her that perhaps the door knocking her helm off might have been mercy compared to whatever his intentions might be. 

He was absolutely massive. She’d seen the combiners, the great Omega Supreme, even Astrotrain in his spaceship mode, and she still wasn’t quite prepared for how large he was. His frame took up the entirety of the room as he wrenched himself free from the pod, tearing pieces of it free as he did so. 

The Insecticon’s visor lit up, illuminating his face with an ominous red light. What looked like three needle-like proboscises were folded atop his mask, which reminded her just enough of Soundwave’s to tell her that maybe she should have tried to size up her ally before attempting to establish pecking order. Bulky antennae uncurled and shifted. His large claws opened and shut as he cracked his neck, optics locking onto her vulnerable form as he took a step forward. 

She didn’t have the energy to react as his claws shot to her throat, raising her off the ground like she weighed nothing. The numbness in her body eased whatever pain she might have felt from it, but her HUD swarmed with danger notifications, and not just from the structural damage her frame had sustained. With a single click of his claws, the Insecticon could decapitate her. 

Instead he twisted and hurled her with enough force to punch through the ship, splattering her against the opposite wall in the main area. Her HUD glitched, momentarily offlined, and returned with a staunch warning: emergency stasis would soon set in. Invert fought against it, standing on shaky legs as the numbness promptly consumed one, causing her to stagger. 

And yet despite the fact that half of her body was cold and she could see graying on her right servos, she held on.

She would not die here. Her left arm was still functional. As the Insecticon tore apart the threshold of what to him was a tiny door, she retrieved her blaster and pointed it straight for his helm. Metal shrieked as the Insecticon ripped his way free of the stasis room, optics locking onto her. 

He was glaring at her. She returned the look, feeling Energon leaking from her optics. 

“Take…another…step…” she garbled out, spitting pink into the water, “and I…shoot…your head…off.” 

He cocked his helm back, looking down at her over the bridge of his mask. His chassis rose and fell a few times with what seemed like laughter. And then he held his claws out, spreading them in a provocative gesture. Do it. He was daring her. 

She gripped the blaster tighter, willing with all her might to move her numb right arm. Electricity was crackling through her systems, replacing that numbness with uncomfortable tingling. 

“Don’t you mock me,” she crackled. 

He held his gaze on her, and it took her a moment to realize that her audials were alerting her to noise. With a mask covering his face and a thousand danger notifications to keep note of, she hadn’t even thought about turning them back on. Digging the command prompt out of the sea of pop-ups, she promptly reactivated them at 50% capacity. Even with her best efforts, the audio came in slightly distorted.

“...--en, you weak little plane.” His voice was low and accented. “See where that gets you.” 

“What?”

“Do it, then,” he snarled. “How many times do I have to say it before you get it through your tiny little processor?”

“Oh yeah?” She challenged, trying to straighten up as much as she could while only having one functional leg. “What are you going to do, rip my spark out?” 

“Are you giving me ideas?” 

“You think you’ll have the brain left to process them?” “You think you’ve got the firepower to drop me in one shot?” He leaned forward, a smirk all but plastered on his masked face. “Because I think I recognize a standard issue Seeker class blaster when I see one.”

Frag. She kept the blaster pointed at his helm, but the fact of the matter was she held no power in this situation. Injured, numb, and significantly smaller than her foe, she was touting a blaster that only had potential to kill in extremely close quarters, and only against light armor. 

Her foe easily towered over her and was heavy armor class just from a glance. Even a blast to the face would likely be just a singe to him. Unless she could aim exactly into his optic or intake, she had no chance of sending a fatal bolt to his spark or processor. 

She had no power here, and he knew it. All he was doing was teasing her. 

“Now…” His voice picked up in its distinct growl. “Where are they, Seeker?” 

One heavy pede stepped forward. She vented sharply. 

“Who are ‘they’? The other Decepticons? Wait, the other Inse–”

He jammed his claws into the wall beside her, shredding it like paper. A trickle of cold ran down her back as she was pinned between his massive chassis and the panels.

“The others. Shrapnel. Kickback. Bombshell.” 

This close, she could make out the intensity of his optics behind his visor. He looked like he could be the face of a war poster. One of his proboscises unfurled, scraping against her faceplate and leaving a scar. 

Yep, she was going to purge. 

“They-they’re–!” 

And then she did, right onto his chassis. Pink energon combined with the sludge of the indigestible organics she had consumed. She coughed several times, optics momentarily offlining with each hack. 

Sharp claws moved right to her throat, accompanied by a low buzz. Oh, there it was. Maybe he only made it when he was pissed. 

“They’re…dead,” she finally said, glowering at him. “Everyone is.” 

Did she necessarily believe it? Maybe. Did she want to admit it, speak it aloud? Absolutely not.

And for forcing her to say it, she hated him, she decided. 

He didn’t relent for a moment as they held each other's gaze. The amount of vitriol contained within his own could strip plating. She tried to load the same hatred into her own.

Metal shrieked as the Insecticon tore his claws free of the wall, venting in disgust as he turned away from her. She pulled herself off the wall, stumbling as her right leg gave out again. 

“Your processor is half-melted,” he said dismissively, heading for the open side of the ship. “Who even are you? The Decepticon ranks don’t need broken weaklings who lie to save their plating.” 

A fire lit in her tank at the words, and she snapped. “Weakling!? I flew all the way here from the last Decepticon stronghold on this planet just to answer your SOS signal! I risked my aft to get you out of your stasis pod! We’re currently so deep in Autobot turf that at any moment, we could be ambushed, and that’d be the end of the cause!” Sparks crackled from her side as she yelled. “And you’re calling me weak!?”

He didn’t even look at her. “Yes, I am, little Seeker. Crossing the planet to engage in a suicide mission doesn’t make you brave or strong. It makes you incredibly stupid. But I suppose you Seekers have never been renowned for your intelligence.”

She didn’t really think about her next action, which saw her raise her blaster and shoot a bolt straight into his side. A puff of smoke rose as the energy singed his segmented plating. The Insecticon glared down at the tiny insult, then at her. 

“See? There’s your proof, dead metallico.” 

And he lunged. 

Well, if she was dying, she was taking him with her. Invert abandoned her blaster and jammed her servos into her side, the burning, agonizing pain only fueling her rage. The action made him pause right before his claws would collide with her helm, deadly sharp spikes halting mere inches from it. 

She smirked. “What’s wrong, Insecticon? Scared of a weakling Seeker?”

He didn’t get the chance to answer. They both heard the sound of an engine, followed by the crack of a jet shooting by overhead. The Insecticon’s head immediately turned to the entrance of the ship. 

Autobots. They didn’t need to say it aloud to both understand. Every Decepticon knew the sound of a Seeker’s engines and the roar they emitted when they flew low over the ground. This sounded nothing like that. 

He was off her in a second. Instinctively she fell in place behind him, keeping her servos over her T-Cog. Glancing out together, they both saw nothing in the sky–yet. 

“Take to the skies,” the Insecticon ordered. “I’ll handle whatever ground troops have arrived.” 

She grimaced, sucking an ex-vent in through her dentae. “Uh. So. About that.”

The roar sounded again, and this time they both saw the blur of what looked like a tiny rocket. The Insecticon’s antennae perked right up. Invert raised an optical ridge. 

“It’s small. A scout,” she whispered. “They don’t know we’re here yet, probably. If we can stay hidden, he might leave.”

“Hidden?” The Insecticon scoffed. “It’s one scout. I have done enough hiding in that damnable pod. I don’t care what’s wrong with you, Seeker. Get in the sky and kill him.”

“I–”

Before she could say another word the Insecticon grabbed her and charged out, roaring as he threw her into the air. She yelled, tumbling through the sky as her body instinctively tried to take its alt mode, failed, and crashed into the trees. 

“Are you KIDDING me!?” She heard echo from below before hitting her helm on a tree and momentarily losing consciousness. 

“Hey, Decepticon!” Another voice. This one sounded like it belonged to a ‘bot who was widely regarded as annoying. So, basically, any Autobot under the sun. “You’re supposed to aim at your enemy, not the sky! And since when do Seekers count as bullets?”

“GET DOWN HERE!”

“Not on ya’ life, ugly!” 

Invert groaned, peeling herself free as the sound of blaster fire rang out from nearby. Just one Autobot scout, and they were both already threatened with the possibility of termination. She needed to do something about this all. They needed to regroup back at Victory, and they needed this Autobot scout silenced. 

For one meant many–he’d probably contacted his allies the moment he saw them. 

With a bit of effort she extricated herself from the tree, splashing down onto the cage below it. The water began to turn pink as she pulled herself up. Her blaster was gone, which might have inspired her to use her rifle, except…

How could she even hope to transform it with one functional arm? Let alone try aiming it with so much crowding her HUD?

The sound of nearby blaster fire grew louder. Splashing was followed by hissing. Metal creaked and shrieked, and then she saw a frisbee of shrapnel fly through the air, missing the tiny rocket as he wheeled up and did a twirl, promptly transforming in the air just to gloat.

He really was tiny. His faceplate was gray, his plating a light orange. Blasters were mounted on his arms, which he crossed as he smirked down at the Insecticon. 

“Ya aim needs work, buggy!” And turning back, he promptly activated his boosters and shot just overhead, circling around to unleash another barrage. 

He was fast. No way the Insecticon managed to hit him with a piece of shrapnel. As he tore another piece free of the ship, Invert pulled herself up on her knees, bracing against a nearby tree. Even if they both had blasters, as long as the rocket stayed in the air, neither of them could hit him. 

As if he even cared about her. Busy toying with the giant Insecticon, the scout had already counted her out of his game. What was a broken Seeker thrown around as ammo going to do to a speedster like him?

Idiot. Did everyone think she was useless because she couldn’t fly? Because she was never deployed? Because the thing that made her useful almost killed her? Because she…

Because she would show him, damn it all. Experimental or not, her body was her weapon. Kneeling in the muddy warm, gradually growing pinker from the Energon leaking out of her side, and ignoring the constant warnings pinging in her HUD, Invert gripped her T-Cog tighter. Peering through the trees, she traced the Autobot’s swift movements, waiting for him to dive just a bit closer.

The Insecticon would suffer from this as well. She really didn’t care. He damn deserved it. 

Another metal shriek sounded through the air, followed by more taunting from the Autobot. 

“Alright, I’m getting tired’a this, ‘con. Tell ya what, surrender now, and the great Starburst will put in a good word for ya when my buds arrive, yeah? No need ta’ draw this cybercat and glitchmouse game out anymore!” 

“Get down here and we’ll see how much longer it’s drawn out,” the Insecticon warned. Starburst chortled and promptly took off again, circling and dodging branches as they were hurled for him. 

A sound like a squeal of pain escaped her, which was just as quickly silenced by biting her glossa . Focus, despite how the pain was radiating up her side. Focus, despite how many warnings were flashing in her HUD. Focus, despite how her processor was threatening to offline at any moment. 

An orange and cream blur. The pink of blaster fire. Dark of a leaf. Between the trees. The blue of the sky. Everything was starting to blur. Circling, he was circling. Which meant if she waited till he came just a bit closer, to the spot where the leaves parted and the branches formed the shape of a X– 

She practically ripped her T-Cog out of its socket cranking it to the side. One second the flash of orange was in her sights. The next the crackling of static overcame her vision and consumed her HUD. 

She heard screaming from two voices. They sounded like they were in agony. 

Good. Feel my pain.

As she thought it her body slumped and hit the ground alongside two other splashes. Water covered her optics, blurring her vision as it tried to online, turned to nothing but red, and gave up. A single message flashed several times.

ENERGON LEVELS CRITICAL. INITIATING EMERGENCY STASIS. 

Was this really it? In the heart of the Demon Swamp? She’d always thought she’d go out on Cybertron again, and that it’d be just like the first time, buried in all that rubble. 

It had been lonely. At least here, she had company. Enemies, for sure, but company. They’d all offline together. 

And then she was out. 

[glorious-spoon]

I prompt "what's wrong with you?" because it made me giggle even though that's probably not how it's meant! If it sparks ofc ✨

that also made me giggle, so this is... definitely not a serious interpretation of the prompt, lol.

-

"Listen," Buck says. "I can explain."

"Uh huh." Eddie sounds deeply skeptical. Buck can picture the expression that goes with it: the flattened mouth betrayed by the teasing sparkle in his eyes. He can't see that expression, unfortunately, because he is currently wedged headfirst in the basement wall along with a jagged tangle of dislodged pipes. At least one of them has ruptured, and there's a sour stink of stale water. Buck should probably count himself lucky that it's nothing worse than that, but he's not feeling especially lucky right now.

"It's not what it looks like."

"Well, it looks like you got your head stuck in the basement wall."

"Okay," Buck concedes. "It is what it looks like. But it's not my fault."

"How did you even…" Eddie trails off. His footsteps move around Buck, like he's trying to take in the whole humiliating scene.

Buck tilts his forehead against the bare concrete wall with a sigh. That makes the pipes shift slightly, but not enough that he can actually disentangle himself. "I was trying to get at the trap vent. Maddie said they've been having a weird smell coming from the bathroom sink, and I told her I could just take care of it while she was at work so she didn't have to call a plumber, and then…"

"And then the plumbing came to life and tried to kill you," Eddie concludes. He's not doing a very good job of pretending not to be laughing at Buck, here.

"You're very funny," Buck says sourly.

"So I'm told."

"No, listen, whoever did the plumbing down here was a moron who didn't secure everything right, and one of the anchors came out, and—can you just help me out, please? You can make fun of me as much as you want afterward."

He probably could get out by himself if he really had to, but not without breaking something potentially expensive. At least Eddie lives within fairly easy driving distance. His other options would have been waiting for Maddie to get home in six hours, or calling 911, and he'd absolutely never hear the end of it. Good thing his phone, which he left on the other side of the room, has voice commands enabled.

"Oh, believe me, I will," Eddie says, but he also steps closer, pressing against Buck to peer over his shoulder. "Is that big pipe anchored to anything?"

"I think so. I didn't really want to yank on it too hard and find out."

"Okay, but what if I lift here—" He leans over Buck's shoulder as he speaks. "Hang on, let me get a better grip."

And then he hitches himself against Buck, warm and solid from chest to thigh, and honestly, Buck's life is a fucking farce.

"I'm pretty sure I saw a porno that started like this once," he blurts, because he can always be counted on to make an awkward situation worse by running his big mouth. And, okay, a little bit because Eddie plastered against him like this is extremely distracting, even under the current circumstances.

There's a long silence behind him, long enough to make him wonder if Eddie is genuinely offended. If maybe he's just going to stomp off and leave Buck stuck halfway through a basement wall until the 118 can show up with the halligan to rescue him, and then inevitably tease him mercilessly for the rest of his life. Which, like, he'd probably deserve, but he hopes not. The warm weight of Eddie's thigh tenses, then relaxes, but doesn't pull back.

"Oh my god," he says finally.

"Just saying," Buck adds, pressing his burning face to the cool concrete.

"What is wrong with you?" Eddie asks, but he sounds like he's laughing. "Don't answer that. It was a rhetorical question."

"I mean. Lots, technically."

"And we are not—" Eddie breaks off with a grunt, shifting back. Something creaks ominously overhead. "Okay, here. Duck your head a little, and I think we can—"

The pipe shifts, scraping painfully across Buck's trapped arm. Cloth tears, and he winces as the sharp edge of the metal digs into the point of his shoulder, but then he's free. He stumbles backward, the torn shoulder seam of his shirt flapping stupidly, and trips over Eddie, sending them both to the floor in an awkward tangle of limbs.

"Oof," Eddie mumbles, and shoves Buck's elbow out of his gut to sit up. "You good?"

"My pride is never going to recover," Buck says, putting a hand over his burning face. Then, "Yeah, I'm good. Thank you."

"Anytime," Eddie says, reaching down to pry Buck's hand out of the way. His hair is ruffled, and he's grinning, and honestly, Buck is in hell. "Come on. I think maybe this time we can leave the plumbing to the professionals. Have you had lunch yet?"

"No, I've been stuck in a wall for the past hour," Buck grumbles.

Eddie laughs again and gets to his feet, leaning down to offer Buck a hand. "Come on. We can stop by my place so you can grab a clean shirt, and then go get lunch. My treat."

"No, come on, I'm—you drove all the way over here to rescue me, I'll buy lunch."

"Well, I wasn't gonna leave you stuck in a wall all day."

"You're a good friend."

"Believe me, I know," Eddie says, but there's no rancor in it, or in the smile he aims Buck's way. His face is still faintly pink with laughter, and his eyes are sparkling, and Buck wants to kiss him.

It's an urge that's more or less constant these days, but it overwhelms him at the oddest moments. And the thing is, he's starting to think that if he tried it, Eddie might let him.

Now is probably not the moment for it; his shirt is still damp and smelly and Eddie is going to spend the rest of the day rightfully heckling him about this. But maybe someday. Maybe even someday soon.

Eddie pauses at the door, tilting his head toward the stairs. "You coming, or what?"

"Yeah, okay, I'm coming," Buck says, and follows him up out of the basement.

[fluffypotatey]

OOOH okay thank you for reminding me half the things I forgot. ha-! allegory of the cave is Greek you say? So is Pandora's Box if that wasn't translated for localization, if he said that literally then Nines, what era are you from LOL. special shout out to the person who said they were like, a past life of MK oh wait yeah that was you Fluffs. that + him being tired of being the hero. what is wrong with that guy....anyways. Nuwa!! the way she coils around people is very, "snake eats tiny dot to get bigger" that game, also just general trapping hmm. like he SEEMS NICE bc they wanted MK is live a little and brought his stone to life??? but was super clumsy and ended up cracking it. also Wukong HOW did you not notice, were you on the journey? was Macky already too dead to protect FFM? there has been a murder!! the subtle expressions, the lingering on their contemplative looks where you just know they're getting a no good idea, when they start covering the eyes and making characters turn their faces. it doesn't matter how still they are. we could see the EXACT thoughts cooking up in there and it's gah- T^T "and the way Macky mourned Wukong privately while everyone else cried for MK (bc they assumed the Pillar repairing itsef meant swk failed) since he knew the Monkey King would try to take MK’s place-" ^^ super valid take, but I raise you: "Macky assumed MK DID do it and was mourning for SWK because he knows how much it would have destroyed him to watch MK sacrifice himself in front of his eyes. that SWK would have tried his absolute hardest yet seems to have failed and it hurts, especially considering their last conversation on MK" :D

YOUR TAKE ALSO WORKS 🤧 BUT LIKE EITHER WAY I WILL FOREVER BE TAKEN ABACK BY HOW GUT WRENCHED MACKY SOUNDED FHERE

lmk what was the point????? TO KILL ME???? BECAUSE IF IS WORKING

yes! Pandora’s box is also Greek! Pandora, a woman created to be the wife of Prometheus’ brother’s wife in the spite of the gods who wanted vengeance on the titan for giving the mortals fire (look what you’ve done. you’ve unlocked my Greek mythos obsession a day early). Pandora was created with beauty, submissiveness, obedience, and curiosity. and it was that curiosity that the gods exploited

“here is a gift from the gods!” they told her and her husband. “under no circumstance do you open it,” they said with a hollow smile before leaving.

and poor Pandora, who did not know her own role in the fall mortals, opened the box at the behest of her burning curiosity, unleashing all hells of bad omens while Hope remained veer loyal in the box Pandora clutched tightly.

“oh you foolish girl!” her husband cried, the effects quickly taking place in him and the rest of humanity. “you just had to open it for your own selfish needs.”

and here we are in s5 with Nines referencing both the Allegory of the Cave and Pandora’s Box. two stories that are about the blessings and curses that come with understanding the world around you. leaving the cave meant leaving the reality forced upon you, but opening Pandora’s box meant unleashing horrors you could no longer be ignorant of in your humble home

MK has already stepped out of the cave but denies it’s reality, not yet ready for the truth it holds. despite this, he already opened her box and whether or not he accepts the “true” reality, MK will find new consequences for unleashing the power of the colored stones on the whole of the earth.

[jflemings]

In pipers world Jessie asking for permission to marry reader from Steph , sam and australian players when they play international because they are readers family(she already asked readers parents) and Steph specially means a lot to both reader and piper...and also Jessie asking the same to leah and leah not giving her permission just to watch Jessie squirm for sometime but eventually gives because everyone has seen how Jessie makes reader feel... In her wedding speech Jessie will specially write a speech for piper too

jessie had to really plan it out because she couldn’t let on what she was doing.

calling your parents was difficult because of the time differences and each of their schedules but by a miracle she finally got the chance to sit down with them on zoom and ask them as face to face as best she could. they said yes, obviously, and then asked if she had any particular plans on how she was going to propose.

she didn’t, she just wanted to get everyone’s approval first before she got that far

they stayed on zoom just catching up until she looked at the time and realised that you would be back in less than five minutes. she quickly said her goodbyes and then managed to shut her laptop just as you walked in the door

you were sus on her because she was clearly shocked to see you, even though you had told her the time she should expect you and piper home, but ultimately brushed it off

jessie asked to catch up with sam and steph before the international break in london. she had bought the ring by then and had brought it with her to ask them to marry you.

the two of them are so honoured that jess thought to ask them and immediately said yes once she finished her half-nervous speech.

steph was over the moon and sam would not stop teasing jess talking about ‘it’s about time’

jess didn’t get the actual chance to ask the rest of the tillies but sam and steph had both managed to find a time to tell the team, explaining to them that they had said yes on their behalf and that under no circumstances were you or piper to find out.

the whole time your teammates where giving jessie sly smiles and pats on the back. teagan was especially relentless

jessie had no idea what to do when leah said no. on one hand she knew the love and respect you had for her but on the other, jess was going to propose anyway. she knew she was, and she told her as such.

look, i know that y/n loves and respects you an infinite amount and i know what you mean to piper so please don’t think that i’m trying to be disrespectful but i love y/n and i love piper. they’re my whole world. i’ve spoken to her parents and to steph and sam and they’ve all given me the go ahead, so, i’m going to propose anyway.

leah’s quite chuffed with jessie’s response and also impressed that not only did jessie let an outsider’s opinion deter her from doing what she wanted, but that she spoke with such confidence when she talked about how much you and piper meant to her. jessie had clearly been nervous when she approached leah but when she talked about you two all the nerves went away.

“i’m kidding, of course i give you my permission to marry y/n”

“oh thank fucking god”

[sincerely-sofie]

you shouldnt need some get-out-of-bigotry-free card from your religious doctrine in order to be a good person. thats not how good people decide things. good people do something to help rather than explain how theyre definitely not associated with bigots because of the fine-print.

do you even care about all the injustice and pain and murder in the world because of christian hatred, or do you think is all a rules-game and we all get to go to a morally-acceptable afterlife in the end? do you give a s*** or are you going to keep making excuses for yourself so you dont have to re-examine what you believe and why?

you cant excise out the hatred and shame from any of it. every institution in the world was built on that- the original intent of god or jesus or whoever the f*** doesnt matter, because thats lost. it has been for a long time.

you want to believe in god? or a doctrine of harmony and acceptance and justice? make one up. you can do a better job.

This was quite the message to wake up to. I'm sorry for taking a while to respond, I wanted to give it as much care as I could while also being punctual in my response, and those are some tricky things to juggle. I'm putting the rest of this post under a cut for those who'd like to avoid this discussion.

I'm assuming you're responding to my previous posts where I talked about my being Christian and my perspective on people's divine right to choose the way they live and believe, and answered some responses to my initial points. But I'm really confused as to what “get-out-of-bigotry-free card” you're referring to. Are you talking about how I described agency? That wasn't intended to be seen in any way like you've described it. I also didn't ever boast about being a good person as this message seems to imply. I try to be a good person, but I don't wave it about on a flag to brag about. 

I'm sorry if this is presumptuous to say, but you're coming at me with a very hostile, angry tone while assuming many things about what I've said and who I am as a person. I'm sorry that what I've said has clearly hurt you in order to have gotten this reaction, but I'm a human being as much as you are. If you are hurting, I want to talk about that hurt in a calm way. We don't need to sling curse words or accusations to do so. 

For the first point of your second paragraph— do you even care about all the injustice and pain and murder in the world because of christian hatred, or do you think is all a rules-game and we all get to go to a morally-acceptable afterlife in the end— yes, I do care. It disgusts me that people have warped a message of love and charity into something so repulsive that they can use to justify acts of malice and hatred. Christian hatred is a fundamentally vile phrase to me, because Christianity is defined in my religion as “taking upon you the name of Christ”— which essentially means striving to live to be as much like Jesus as possible. Jesus wasn't hateful. Jesus wasn't cruel. Jesus was shown a woman who was set to be stoned to death and told the people who brought her forward to mind their own business and think about their own lives, then bent down and offered her compassion and comfort. As for myself, there's circumstances in my life that prevent me from doing much concrete advocacy for many causes, but I speak and vote where I can to make the world a happier place, protect people's rights, and defend them against predatory behavior. I'm unfamiliar with the phrase “rules-game” and couldn't find a definition for it, so I can't answer that portion of your question directly, but I believe that the afterlife is fundamentally morally acceptable, yes. I wouldn't be following a religion that I found immoral on a doctrinal level.  

For the second question of that first paragraph: I'm not going to use the same phrasing as you, but I do give a hoot. I also didn't try to make any excuses for myself. I'm confused as to where you felt like I did so. I do regularly consider my belief system and why I believe it, as well as consider the journey I've taken with my faith. I've identified myself as an atheist and an agnostic at various points in life before coming back to Christianity. To put it in a nutshell, I've done a lot of thinking on the subject throughout the years and have grappled with a lot of things about my religion that I didn't understand when I was younger, until I got a better recognition of them. I am not a blind follower of my faith. 

You said “you can't excise out the hatred and shame from any of it. Every institution in the world was built on that- the original intent of God or Jesus or whoever(…) doesn't matter, because that's lost.” I don't think we'll agree on this point, because we're coming at this from two very different worldviews. My church doesn't believe humanity is a gaggle of kids that God left in a hot car in some cosmic parking lot. We believe in God communicating with people throughout every era— He's still talking to and guiding humanity. We call ourselves the restored church because we believe in continuing revelation, that God isn't done revealing the Gospel to us in its entirety. We've got the fundamentals, yes, but we're still learning the deeper stuff, and God is here to hold our hands along the way.

The fact that there is any hatred or shame involved is not something God wants for us. That's something that came into religion from humans, because we're mortal, and we have vices, grudges, flaws, and temptations. We're not perfect, and we bring imperfection wherever we go. That's why we have God directing us to try and improve constantly— to turn the other cheek and remove the beam from our own eye before commenting on the mote in our brother's. We're on individual paths to God, and it's not any one person's place to judge another's life. That's what God's here for, and He's the only one qualified to do it by virtue of knowing us so well that He recognizes the struggles and reasonings behind where we unwillingly fall short. He also recognizes when people act with intentional malice even where we wouldn't see any, and is able to judge accordingly. 

Judging by your final paragraph— you want to believe in god? or a doctrine of harmony and acceptance and justice? make one up. you can do a better job— if I'm reading this right, you believe the concept of God is fundamentally discordant, unaccepting, and unjust. We're coming at this from opposing worldviews if this is the case, and aren't going to agree. I believe in a God who is kind and wants to see us succeed. It doesn't seem like you feel the same. I'm sorry, but I don't have much else I can say on the subject. I won't change your mind when this seems like a very vital facet of your belief system, if the conviction you write with is any indicator. You won't change my mind when a caring, present God is something I've experienced so frequently that I can't see the world through any other lens.

I'm sorry that what I said previously seems to have hurt and upset you. It wasn't my intent. I hope that this response is able to communicate that along with my perspective.

[atinylittlepain]

Firehouse Harrington - Chapter 6

fireman!Steve x f!reader/f!oc

series masterlist

It's Thanksgiving and Steve is trying to be better for his girl (what's new?) but he's going to be tested when someone from his past comes to visit.

warnings | 18+ SMUT, actually pretty sweet sex but also some nasty stuff too bc... it's steve, angst, EMOTIONS everywhere, my lord

a/n | um, this one is long, babes. but it's also very sweet, at least for steve. enjoy :)

It’s Thanksgiving day, and Steve’s at the station, and in the doghouse. He was supposed to be spending today with his girl, but when he got back to work on Monday and the chief was asking who could pick up Thanksgiving, Steve had volunteered himself like he always did, not even thinking about how this year he actually had someone he could spend the day with. When he called her that night and admitted what he had done, the disappointment in the sigh she let out went right down his spine. Since last week, Steve had been trying to be on his best behavior. It had scared him, watching her get ready to walk out the door and never come back, mostly because he hadn’t realized just how much it’d destroy him if she actually did it. He knew it was inevitable, she’d find something better, if not someone better, and she would leave. But Steve wanted to hang onto her as long as he could, keep chasing that ray of sun until he was left back in the shade. However, it was seeming that no matter how hard he tried, he just kept fucking up.

“Well, okay, Steve. I guess we could do it on Saturday instead? Why don’t we invite Robin to join us too? She told me she’d be back in town after Friday.” Steve had tried not to groan at that. He really didn’t like that she and Robin seemed to have become fast friends. His jaw had all but dropped on the floor when she had jokingly called him “king Steve” one day, telling him with a laugh that Robin had shared a few memories with her. But, he was trying to be better, and being better meant agreeing to having Robin over for their makeshift Thanksgiving.

The actual holiday was always a bit of a clusterfuck for the station. Idiots trying to deep fry their birds seven different ways, grandmas setting off smoke alarms with cigars from the “old country,” and for some reason, hoosiers had a particular affinity for setting off fireworks after they were good and stuffed with butter and carbs. They had several calls throughout the day, but by the time seven o’clock rolled around, the city of Indianapolis seemed to be good and sedated by turkey, and Steve and the other men working that day were finally pulling back into the station for hopefully the last time that night. What he wasn’t expecting, however, was to see someone sitting on the stoop outside the door to the station. As they’re stepping down from the truck, the person rounds the corner of the garage and Steve’s heart kicks in his chest when he sees that it’s his girl, all bundled up in the frigid night and carrying two large bags that Steve recognizes from the burger joint down the block. He’s left speechless as she toes her way into the garage, a small smile on her face as she tilts her head at him, lifting up the bags.

“It’s not exactly turkey, but I figure it’ll do under the circumstances.” The other two men Steve’s working with tonight are young rookies, all the older men having family to be at home with, and they're watching her like she’s a damn angel descending from heaven. Steve finally cracks into action, a grin splitting his face as he takes one of the bags from her and wraps an arm around her waist.

“Miller, Thompson, this is my girl.”

…

Luckily, because they are rookies, the two other men have yet to get steeped in the misogyny that runs rampant in the station, and are nothing but polite to her as they welcome her in and help her lay out food on the kitchen counter. Steve would normally hate the idea of her coming around here, but with the rest of the crew gone, and after another stupidly tedious holiday shift, all he can do is smile like a dope as she feeds him a french fry. His two coworkers thank her profusely, loading their arms up with food and heading to their bunks to give the couple “some alone time.” Steve barely nods at their words, too focused on her leaning back against the counter and sipping a milkshake. Once the two men are gone, Steve finally clears his throat.

“Um– I wasn’t– you” She just laughs, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Just eat your burger, Harrington. You can thank me later.”

They sit on the grubby sofa in the station, eating and talking quietly. Steve tells her about the man who had tried to build his own deep fryer and ended up setting off a small explosion in his backyard that sent his turkey flying through an upstairs window of the house next door. Her laugh is contagious and they both end up gasping for breath at the ridiculousness of the story. Steve can’t remember the last time he laughed so hard. 

Food wrappers abandoned, they both slump back into the couch, heads tilted lazily to look at each other. He brings his palm down to stroke up and down her thigh, letting out a sigh.

“Thank you. For this. You didn’t have–” She cuts him off, scooting closer and resting her hand on his chest.

“Steve, I wanted to. And you’re very welcome.” For once, he drops it, simply smiling and dipping forward to drop a quick kiss to her lips before pulling back.

“Did you, uh, talk to your folks today?” She nods. She had explained to him that her family lived across the country on the west coast and while she was still on talking terms with them, she avoided going home as much as possible. Steve could certainly understand that.

“Yeah, I did. I told them about you.” His heart jolts up into his throat at her words, eyebrows raising. He squeezes her thigh.

“You did?” She smiles, nodding again.

“Mmhmm. My sister thinks it’s hot that you’re a fireman.” He sputters out a laugh, shaking his head, but she seems to have something else in mind, carding her fingers through his hair to get him to look at her.

“I’m inclined to agree with her.” With that, she’s shifting on the couch to swing her leg over his hip, straddling his thighs and wrapping her arms around his neck. Steve’s hands instinctively go to the plush of her thighs, fingers flexing. She’s already nosing along his neck, making Steve shiver, but he collects himself enough to speak, making her still in his lap.

“Hey, hey. We can’t, baby. Not here with those guys just a wall away.” She whines into his neck.

“Steve–”

“No. I’m serious, doll, you better watch it.” She huffs, and when she finally pulls back from his neck, she gives him an actual pout that he can’t help but surge forward to kiss away. But when he pulls back, there’s a new glint in her eyes. She leans forward, grazing her lips along his ear before whispering.

“What if we took this somewhere else, Stevie?” He both hates and loves it when she calls him that and it makes him groan. 

“You know I can’t leave the station, baby.” She grins.

“Who said anything about leaving the station?”

That’s how Steve finds himself in the jumpseat of one of the firetrucks with her in his lap, gasping between sloppy kisses as he squeezes her ass to grind her down against him. He pulls back with a lewd pop, looking into her wild eyes.

“You know, doll, I didn’t get any dessert.” She doesn’t seem to follow where he’s going with this, scoffing and rolling her eyes.

“Are you serious right now? Steve, you had a milkshake, was that not sweet enough for–” She’s cut off when he lands a harsh smack to her ass, making her gasp and lurch forward into his chest.

“Watch that tone, pretty. And what I want a taste of is a lot sweeter than any milkshake.” His other hand digs into the front of her jeans, cupping her wet heat and she seems to get it now, whimpering out a soft “oh” at his harsh touch. He strokes through her folds, dipping his fingers into her entrance and dragging the wetness pooling there up to her clit as she grinds down into his palm. He presses a kiss to her temple before dragging his lips along her cheek to speak into her ear.

“Stand up, baby. We’re gonna switch spots and then daddy’s gonna have his dessert.” He helps her up, not missing how shaky she seems to be on her legs, before helping her peel off her jeans and panties as she sits back in the car seat. Steve kneels between her legs, pressing a kiss to the inside of each of her knees before drawing them over his shoulders and dragging her ass to the edge of the seat. It’s cramped, there’s no two ways about it, her feet pressing into the wall of the cab behind him and her hands trying to find purchase on the roof of the truck as he starts to work her over. She’s a writhing mess as he licks long, lazy strokes through her folds, sighing and huffing above him. He leans back just to spit on her cunt, watching the way it drips down to mix with her own wetness. She whimpers under his hard gaze.

“Daddy, please don’t tease me– need it bad.” He chuckles before landing a slap to the inside of her thigh, causing her to yelp.

“Don’t be pushy, doll. Daddy’s gonna take all the time he wants. Because this pretty little pussy is all mine, yeah?” She nods, letting out a breathy “mmhmm” when he kisses her clit.

“And I can do whatever I want with it, right, baby?” She nods again, but he wants more from her and lays a quick smack against her clit that makes her hips buck in his hold. It’s a whine when she speaks.

“Yes, daddy. S’all yours– you can do whatever you want– just, please–” He shushes her.

“S’okay, pretty. I’ve got you. So fucking sweet. Daddy’s gonna take care of you.” His last words come out a murmur as he dips back into her cunt, licking into her before sweeping up to her clit and sucking hard around the little bud. The moan she lets out makes his brain go hazy with her as she drags her fingers through his hair, pulling lightly at the roots as he continues to lick at her clit. She starts to grind her hips against his mouth and Steve groans.

“That’s it, doll. Take what you want. Fuck, you taste so good.” She preens at his words, arching out of the car seat as he slips two fingers into her. 

“Feels so good, daddy– p-please don’t stop.” He can feel her already tightening up on his fingers as he pumps them into her.

“You close, baby? You gonna come on daddy’s fingers?” She nods frantically, her eyes scrunched shut as she lets out a high-pitched “mmhmm.” 

“I want your eyes on me when you come. Open those pretty eyes for me, doll.” When she doesn’t listen, he slips his other hand up her front to harshly grip her jaw, making her eyes shoot open as she gasps at the pain.

“That’s it, pretty. Eyes on me.” He dips back down, sucking and nipping at her clit while he fucks her with his fingers. She comes with a broken sigh, hips jerking in his hold as she spasms around his fingers. Steve thinks he could die happy in this position, between the softness of her thighs with the pretty sounds of her breathy whimpers ringing in his ears. He finally pulls away, leaving a sloppy kiss to each of her thighs. As he wipes her slick from his chin with the back of his hand, he takes in the sight of her, flushed and slumped down in the seat. She quirks an eyebrow at him.

“Your sweet tooth satisfied now?” He grins palming his aching hardness as he looks her over.

“Way better than pumpkin pie.”

…

“Steve? Can you go pick up the pumpkin pie this morning? The bakery opens at ten but I need to get to work on all this cooking.” He cranes his neck from where he’s sitting on the couch, his heart squeezing at the sight of her in his kitchen. She’s the sweetest image in one of his sweatshirts, an apron tied around her hips hiding the fact that she’s also only wearing a pair of his boxers. But his attention is quickly pulled to the seeming bomb of ingredients that’s gone off across his countertops. He gets up, shuffling into the kitchen and watching her poring over a cookbook.

“Yeah, I’ll go, um– are you sure we need to make this much food? S’just you, me, and Robin.” She stills where she had been flipping through the book. 

“Babe? It is just you, me, and Robin, right?” She finally looks at him, offering a very nervous little smile. Steve feels like he’s going to blow a gasket already but she’s quick to slide over to him in her socked feet, pressing her palms into his chest and rubbing lightly.

“Look, don’t freak out, ok? But Robin told me one of your other friends was in town this weekend and I may have told her to invite him.” Steve blinks hard a few times.

“You what?” She huffs.

“Steve, don’t get weird. He’s a friend of yours after all.”

“He? Who– who is he?” She furrows her brow.

“Crap, I can’t actually remember his name. Um, something Munyan– wait, no– uh, Munroe?” Steve’s jaw goes slack.

“Are you telling me Eddie Munson is coming to dinner?” Her face splits into a grin and she slaps his chest lightly.

“That’s it! Robin told me it’s been a while since he’s been back in Indiana so it’ll be nice for you all to catch up.” She’s smiling so brightly at him it’s hard to stay mad at her. Steve’s taken to counting to ten to keep himself from saying things he knows he shouldn’t. It works, sometimes. He finally huffs, scrunching his eyes shut before looking at her again and nodding.

“Alright, alright. I’ll um– I guess I’ll go get that pie.” She lands a quick kiss to his lips, grinning up at him again.

“Good. Be quick, yeah? You’re on turkey duty.”

…

The later in the day it gets, the tighter the knot in Steve’s stomach winds. He hasn’t seen Eddie in years, not since Steve went overseas. All he knew was that Eddie had moved down south, seeking the money that was to be made working the oil rigs in the gulf of Mexico. He never wrote, never called, and he figured that Eddie liked it that way, putting everything behind him and Steve couldn’t blame him for that. 

The only thing keeping Steve sane is her, dancing around him in the kitchen, a swirl of chopping vegetables and filling up casserole dishes. He’s never cooked a turkey before, never any reason to, but he takes to the task diligently because he wants to impress her. The sun is just starting to set as he leans back against the counter, bird in the oven and dish towel over his shoulder. He swats her hands away as she goes to peek into the oven and she scoffs at him.

“S’almost done, baby, go get changed.” She smiles, looking down at her now smudged-up apron over her pantsless legs.

“Get changed? What’s wrong with this?” He slides over to her, grabbing her hips and squeezing as she laughs in his grip. He plants a few mushy kisses to her lips, murmuring about how she’s “such a menace” in between them until she finally pulls away to saunter into his bedroom with a huff. A sting runs through his chest as, for a moment, he can imagine them doing this for the rest of their lives, his mind wandering to the image of a baby on her hip as they shuffle around their kitchen. He has to scrub a harsh hand through his hair to clear the thought from his mind. 

His brain is further scattered when the doorbell rings. Steve freezes, but luckily she’s just then coming back out of his bedroom wearing that dress he loves, fixing an earring as she marches over to the door. 

Steve hears him before he sees him. First there’s the sound of her and Robin greeting each other. But Steve would recognize that raspy voice anywhere.

“Well, hello. You must be the catch Robs has been telling me about. Blink twice if Harrington’s holding you against your will.” Yep, that’s Munson alright.

Eddie comes flouncing into the kitchen, her and Robin following behind. Steve thinks that he looks about the same. His hair is a little shorter, but otherwise, he’s still got that shit-eating grin that Steve remembers. Eddie’s eyes crinkle when he sees Steve, already opening his arms up for a hug that Steve was not expecting.

“Long time no see, big boy, bring it in.” 

They get all the food laid out on the dining table, everyone humming at how good everything looks and Steve feels a warm bloom of pride in his chest that he did this, with his girl, together. She squeezes his hand as they all sit down, offering him a smile and Steve thinks for a minute that it’ll be alright after all. And then Eddie opens his mouth.

“So Robin told me you’re, like, super smart. Is that why you’re with Steve? Are you running experiments on him?” Steve would like to drag him across the table and knock his lights out right then, but she takes it in stride, laughing politely.

“Oh, god, no. It’s, um, actually kinda funny how we met. Steve was on duty when there was a fire in my dorm and, uh, the rest is history I guess.” It’s a total lie, and Steve loves her for it as she glances at him out of the corner of her eye, a small reassurance. 

The rest of the dinner goes off as smooth as it can. Eddie tells them about his time down in the gulf (“back-breaking stuff, man. I still get the heebies anytime I fill up my car”) and explains that he’s planning on coming back to Indiana for good, using the money he saved up to go back to school to become a teacher. Steve can’t help but snort at that and Eddie tilts his head at him.

“Something funny, Stevie?” Steve shrugs.

“Can’t imagine you being a teacher, Munson. I don’t remember you caring much for school.” Eddie chuckles, shaking his head.

“People change, Steve, you know that better than most. Besides, I’ll be teaching music, not boring bullshit.” Her eyes are darting between the men, Robin looking on a bit nervously as well. It’s meaningless jabs, but Eddie’s “you know better than most” has a weight to it that everyone seems to pick up on. She eventually clears her throat, squeezing Steve’s hand as she smiles at Eddie.

“Well, I think that’s great, Eddie. You know, there’s really interesting MRI research coming out about how good music is for our brains. They’re starting to use it as palliative treatment for people with Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s disease.” It’s a successful maneuver away from whatever the elephant in the room is. Eddie rests his chin in his palm as he looks at her.

“I’ll be damned, is that right? Tell me more, sweetheart, that sounds wild.”

It’s over dessert that Eddie excuses himself for a smoke break. She and Robin are chatting easily over cups of coffee and slices of pie. Steve squeezes her shoulder, murmuring that he’s going to go keep Eddie company.

Steve gets outside just as Eddie’s lighting up, leaning up against the wall of his apartment building. He grins around his cigarette.

“You wanna bum one, Harrington? Or did you quit?” Steve waves him off, leaning on the wall next to him.

“Been trying to at least. She’ll kill me if she smells it on me.” Eddie laughs, whistling lowly.

“So you’re whipped, huh?” Steve scoffs, going to protest  but Eddie continues.

“It’s a good look on you, man. You seem– I don’t know– lighter.” Steve raises an eyebrow at him, but Eddie just shrugs.

“I’m just saying. You better hold onto that one. She’s the real deal.” Steve sighs.

“Yeah, I know, Ed.” There’s a beat of silence before Eddie speaks again.

“Robs told me you had another close call.” Steve huffs at that, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You’re getting older, Harrington. Don’t you think it’s time you–” Steve turns on him, his eyes flashing and Eddie puts up his hands in surrender.

“Did she put you up to this?” Eddie’s face scrunches in confusion.

“What? No, man. But I can’t blame her if she’s saying the same thing. Listen, Steve, I get it, really. Why do you think I went running down south to work my ass off on a fucking rig? It wasn’t exactly for the scenery.” Eddie sighs, blowing out a puff of smoke before going on.

“But, it’s just stupid. Trying to keep running, to keep fighting. You– we deserve to get on with life.  At least that’s what I figure.” Steve sighs, plucking the cigarette right from Eddie’s mouth and taking a long drag before handing it back to him. Eddie glances at him.

“What did you wanna do? Before?” Steve laughs, shaking his head.

“I didn’t have a fucking clue what I wanted to do. I was working shit jobs that went nowhere, even before.” Eddie offers him the cigarette again and Steve takes it with a muttered “don’t fucking tell her” that makes Eddie laugh.

“Well, listen, as your friend? I’m telling you that you deserve to figure out what the fuck you actually want to do, not what numbs your brain out enough to forget the past.” Steve just nods, stamping out the butt before glancing back at Eddie.

“So, you’re really back for good?” Eddie grins, nodding.

“Certified, man. I’m starting at IU after the holidays.” Steve chuckles.

“Eddie Munson, a college man. Who would’ve thought.” 

“Hey, if I can do it, so can you, Harrington. Think about it.” They both sigh and Steve kicks off the wall.

“I will, really. C’mon, we should head back up. I fear what those two could accomplish left alone together.” Eddie chuckles, clapping Steve on the back.

“It’s good to be back, Steve. And it’s good to see you found someone. She’s a keeper, man.”

“I know, Ed. I know.” 

…

She sends Robin and Eddie off with tin-foil wrapped plates stacked high with leftovers and Steve tries not to blow a fuse when Eddie lays a wet, smacking smooch to her cheek, grinning like the devil he is before slinking out the door. Robin huffs, smiling apologetically at her.

“Apologies for the large man-child, he means well. Thank you guys for Thanksgiving part two though, it was great!” Steve draws his friend into a brisk side hug before she’s out the door as well. His girl shuts the door, turning and looking at him with a broad smile.

“Well?” He raises his eyebrows at her as she pads over to him, drawing her palms up his chest to wrap behind his neck. She presses a soft kiss to his lips.

“Was it a good thanksgiving?” Steve huffs, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her closer against him.

“Munson aside? First good one I ever had, doll.” That earns him a grin and she leans in for another kiss that he tries to deepen, chasing after her lips but to no avail.

“We make a good team, baby.” Steve hums at that, once again trying to steal another kiss but she slides her palms down to press into his chest again.

“Gotta clean up, team.” He groans, but reluctantly follows her back into the kitchen to tackle the mess of dishes that’s been left in the aftermath of dinner. It’s quiet and it’s easy as they work. She washes and he dries, and again Steve feels that sting in his chest imagining them doing this after putting their imaginary kids to bed. He knows it’s ridiculous to even think this way. She’s never even mentioned wanting or not wanting kids, and why would she? Still, part of him can’t help but hope that there’s even a small chance she’d want her future to have him in it. He’s brought out of his head by the sound of her humming as she scrubs another pan. He sets down his dishtowel, sliding behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist as he digs his nose into her neck, breathing her in. She huffs under his attention.

“We’re not done, Steve.” He groans, his voice coming out as a mumble into her skin.

“There’s only, like, two pans left, babe. I say we’re done for tonight.” She gives in, setting the pan she had been working on down in the sink and drying her hands off on a rag before letting her palms rest over his forearms circling her waist. Steve starts to press kisses up the sweep of her neck, his teeth grazing the hinge of her jaw as she shudders in his arms.

“Look so pretty, tonight, honey. Wearing my favorite dress.” She sighs, letting him sway them a little side to side as he continues to nip at her skin.

“Wore it for you. Was trying to distract you from being so pissed off at Eddie.” Steve huffs into her neck, drawing his hands down to palm the swell of her thighs.

“It worked. Think I would’ve throttled him if I didn’t have you next to me.” She sighs as his hands continue to run up and down the outside of her thighs, ghosting over her hips before dipping back down to thumb at the hem of her dress. She twists in his hold, threading her fingers through the back of his hair and looking up at him in a way that makes his hands shake. Her voice is just a whisper when she speaks.

“I love you, Steve.” He feels his face melt into a smile, pulling her closer by her waist.

“You do?” She grins, nodding, and they kiss around their shared dopey smiles. Steve pulls away, pressing his forehead against hers.

“Fuck, baby– I love you so much.” And with that he’s diving in for a deeper kiss that makes her gasp into his mouth as he licks into her. Without knowing it, he’s walking her back until she’s pressed into the counter, hoisting her up onto it and settling between her legs. Her fingers start to fumble with the buttons of his shirt and Steve’s quick to help her, pulling it up over his head and tossing it aside. Her palms smooth up his chest, and she hooks her legs behind his thighs to draw him in closer. He breaks away to lay kisses along her shoulder, reaching back to tug the zipper of her dress down until it’s loose enough for her to shrug out of the sleeves. Taking in the sight of her, Steve lets out a low groan.

“Baby, no bra?” She grins and shrugs.

“Doesn’t work with the dress, Stevie.” He huffs, not really answering as he’s already dipping down to lay harsh bites across the tops of her breasts. She gasps as he takes one of her nipples into his mouth, teeth grazing the bud until she’s tugging lightly at his hair to pull him back up for a kiss that’s all pressing tongues and harsh gasps. Her hands wander again, this time down to his belt but Steve’s quick to grab hold of both her wrists in one palm.

“Hey, hey. Lemme take care of you first, doll.” She sighs, her brow furrowing.

“Just want you, daddy. Wanna feel you.” Steve feels like his head is going to explode at her words and the way she’s looking up at him from under her eyelashes. He tries to steady himself, guiding her palms to rest on his bare chest.

“Just Steve tonight, alright, pretty? Want you to say my name while I fuck you.” She smiles at that, dragging her hands up to clasp behind his neck and pull him into another kiss, pulling away just so their lips are barely brushing and whispering “ok, Steve.” Something in him snaps at her sweet words and he grips the plush of her ass, murmuring for her to wrap her legs around him, and he hoists her up off the counter as they continue to smear sloppy kisses into each other’s skin.

He starts to pad out of the kitchen, but his foot gets caught on the rug in front of the sink and they both wind up on the floor. She’s dissolving into laughter underneath him as he presses up onto his hands to check that she’s not hurt. She’s not, but Steve’s ego might be. She catches the furrowed look on his face and sighs.

“Don’t pout, baby. You were just being efficient. Now we don’t have to go all the way to the bedroom.” He can’t help but laugh at that, shaking his head at her words.

“Always such a smart mouth.” She doesn’t get a reply in as he dips down to steal another sloppy kiss. Steve thinks fleetingly that they probably look like a mess. They’re sprawled out on his kitchen floor, her dress all rucked around her hips, his belt buckle hanging open. But he doesn’t care, not when she’s drawing his hips down into hers by hooking her leg around his ass. Steve smacks one more kiss to her lips before leaning back to drag her dress the rest of the way down her hips, his hands skating back up her legs to slide her panties off too. He sits back on his haunches, fumbling with his belt, taking in her splayed figure as she tilts her head and grins at him. His hands still.

“What’re you looking at, doll?” 

“You, Steve. So lovely like this.” He huffs at her words, knowing that if he thinks too hard about them he’ll dissolve right on the spot. He quickly shrugs his pants and boxers down enough to slide his aching cock out, leaning back over her and running the tip through her folds. They both sigh at the contact, and she rucks one knee up to his hip, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he dips into her. He stills for a moment, searching her face.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to work you open first, pretty?” She scrunches her face, tilting her hips to try to coax him deeper but he brings one palm down to the softness of her belly, pressing her into stillness.

“Hey. Need your words, doll. Be good for me, huh?” She frowns, brushing some of his hair out of his face.

“I just wanna feel you, Steve. Want you inside me.” He presses a kiss to her pouted lips, letting his hips roll forward with a deep groan. She arches up into him when his hips finally press against hers, offering up the arc of her throat for him to nose along as she sighs. 

“Always so perfect for me, doll– fuck– tell me when I can move.” She tells him on a breathy exhale that she’s ready and he lets his lips smear over hers as he pulls out, slowly rolling into a rhythm that pushes and pulls both their bodies. It feels different, and not just because they’re splayed on his kitchen floor. Something heady is pulling at the hilt of his spine, pressing his thrusts deeper as she cants her hips to meet him. He’s devouring her, swallowing her gasps and whimpers as he licks into her mouth. It’s embarrassing how quickly the pleasure is closing in around him. 

“Feels so good, Steve– so full– fuck, don’t stop.” She dissolves into a cracked chant of his name and Steve’s head is swimming in it.

He brings his hand up to her jaw, skating his thumb along her bottom lip. She’s quick to wrap her mouth around the digit, laving her tongue over the pad of his thumb and it makes Steve’s eyes roll back in his head. He takes his thumb from her mouth with a lewd pop, bringing his hand town to swipe over her clit. Her hips jerk in his hold and he feels her clench down hard around him.

“Fuck, baby– need you to come for me– need to feel it so bad.” She whimpers his name, eyes scrunching closed as her nails dig into his shoulder blades. 

“Eyes on me, pretty. Wanna see you when you come– c’mon, baby.” Her eyes blow wide as she lets out a broken cry and the way she pulses around him as she comes undone sends Steve over the edge with her, pressing his hips deep into hers as he spills inside of her. They’re both panting, a slick sheen of sweat keeping them stuck together in their embrace. Steve dips his face into her neck, leaving light kisses as he trails up to her jaw, and then to her lips. When he pulls away she’s grinning beneath him.

“I love you, Steve. I really mean it.” For a moment, Steve stills, taking in the sight of his girl. His girl. He almost can’t believe it’s all real, but when she pulls him back down for another kiss, for once all the thoughts muddying his mind go quiet. He smiles against her lips.

“I love you too. Fuck, you’re incredible.” She hums, carding her fingers through his hair. As they stay there, sprawled on his kitchen floor, probably for longer than they should, Steve feels something spreading in his chest. A notion, a hope really, that for her, he might be able to be better. He really wants to be better.

[tsarinatorment]

Riordanverse: Gods and Mortals and Nicknames

So I wrote this in response to another post but it was kinda tangential so I’m gonna just slap it down as its own thing, too.  Very rough and ready because I’m tired and have no free time at the moment, but if people are interested (and I can find time), I can absolutely try and tidy this up at some point!  I believe it was @fearlessinger I originally breached this topic with some time back in the toa discord but there were probably a few others lurking as well...

But anyway: Gods and Mortals and Nicknames!

Specifically, the way that the gods never canonically shorten each other’s names, or use anything less than a full name (barring Dionysus’ chronic inability to say most demigods’ names correctly) to refer to each other and the demigods (with one glaring exception which I’ll get onto in a sec).

It almost reads as though there’s an etiquette there, that using their full name is a mark of respect - that you acknowledge their power and you’re not belittling it by bestowing some sort of pet name/nickname - and it’s interesting to me that they keep that up with the demigods (who we know they envy, thanks to Apollo dropping that little truth in his narration, and are of course the major source of their own worship and therefore power in the modern day).  A key example here, and the one that contradicts fanon the most, is the fact that Apollo never, ever, calls Artemis anything other than “Artemis” or some variant of “sister” (titles being the alternative to using a full name, eg. “father” when they’re not trying to get Zeus’ attention!).  There is no Arty or any other typical shortening one might expect from a twin.

That’s completely different to how a lot of (Western, I’m British and that’s the culture I can speak for; I won’t make assumptions on others) mortals view names; nicknames/pet names are very common when you’re close with someone and like someone. And we see it with several of the main characters:

Percy, of course, is the prime example.  We all know it’s short for Perseus and we all know that Percy never, ever, goes by Perseus.  He doesn’t like it when people call him that (and maybe that’s because it sounds a bit pretentious, or because Perseus is too much the shadow of his predecessor rather than him), and the only time people call him that is gods or monsters, or when he’s in trouble/people are intentionally trying to rile him.

Nico is another one, and one I didn’t realise about at all until THO, when Apollo refers to him as Nicholas.  Honestly, I thought Nico was his full name until then, but I’ve been informed by someone with a far greater understanding of Italian names than I that Nicholas makes more sense as his full name than Nico, so there we have it.

Meg, leaning into TOA because that’s where this is going to go, is a third; she refuses to be called Margaret under any circumstances and if she got her way, no-one would even know Meg wasn’t her full name.

Will isn’t a main character (much to my ongoing disappointment), but we got canon confirmation that his full name is William, and yet it’s never used except when people close to him do that good old Full Naming Thing when they’re fake-mad.

Which leads me off to my point about names and etiquette and Apollo, our god who loves humanity and quite frankly, understands and respects humanity better than the rest of the gods (and yes, even pre-TOA but I’m not getting into that rn) so it makes sense that he might be willing to switch which etiquette he’s using depending on if he’s talking with/about mortals rather than gods.

Because Apollo calls Percy “Perseus”… but only sometimes, when he’s being a bit of a little shit because especially at the start of TOA, Apollo was really laying that facade on thick, lbr.  Otherwise, unlike literally every other god, he calls him Percy - Percy’s preferred name.  With Nico, Nico told him “it’s Nico”, and Apollo immediately switched to that, his preferred name, without hesitation.  Meg, when asked, did give her full name but also made it clear that she hates it, and Apollo never used it.

And of course, there’s Will, Apollo’s beloved son, who he calls Will right from the start of THO, completely bucking the trend of full names unless requested otherwise, and being a lovely beacon of “Apollo and Will had enough interactions pre-BOO for Apollo to know Will’s preferred form of address and default to it when he’s mortal and half-conscious and very groggy to the point he barely recognises his own son - yet still uses his preferred name and not his full name”.

Dionysus, as mentioned earlier, can also buck the trend, but it seems to be much rarer, and with good reason - unlike Apollo, who gladly gets attached to mortals over and over and over again, he doesn’t want to get attached, so he distances himself with fake names most of the time (but uses full names when he does use them… except with Nico and Will, who are the only two demigods I can think of off the top of my head that Dionysus refers to by name (and nickname, no less) in every appearance he has with them.  With Nico, I assume this is because of the therapy sessions and the way that he’s chosen to get close to him for some reason.  Slightly less clear with Will, but considering it was from Apollo’s pov and therefore Apollo was there, I am fond of (and amused by) the idea that Dionysus knows better than to mess up Apollo’s kids names when his brother is there and will go all papa bear on him for getting it wrong.  Maybe he calls him other names when Apollo isn’t in earshot, who knows…

[whumpbug]

whumperless whump event day 5: stealing my breath (give it back) @whumperless-whump-event

wheezing / light-headed

see this post for character information!

caretaker: Cassidy

whumpee: Gene

genuinely decided while writing this about gene having asthma. it flares up in situations like this or when he's sick. Good Whump Content......

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Sometimes, Gene wondered how people lived before having horses.

This sucked.

He silently cursed Sheriff Caufield for being the lazy bastard he was.

Gene was responsible for tracking down and arresting some members of Montana’s gang that had robbed a train car about 2 days ago. Rumor had it that the gang splintered off in order to hide, and were going to regroup in just a week. That meant it was now or never to try and find some of the more notorious offenders and lock them up for good.

The trouble was that the particular lead Gene had been sent to follow was up a complicated and winding mountain trail.

Now, Calliope was a very well trained and easy-going horse. That did not mean that she was scare-proof. If something startled her up there on the trail, and she bucked Gene off, the chance of him falling right down the side of the mountain was too high for comfort. 

So, he was forced to foot it up the steep trail.

And it was miserable.

Gene considered himself a fit man. He sort of had to be, with his line of work and all. Still, he was not this fit and he felt seconds away from toppling over on this damn hike.

One foot in front of the other. Come on, Delaney.

He used a stray root as a handle and hoisted himself up over a small ledge for what felt like the millionth time. He started to wonder if he was even going the right way.

He stole a quick glance at the sun and saw that it had hardly moved from the last time he checked.

He groaned.

Surely, it wouldn’t hurt to sit for a few moments. The smoke trail he’d been following had been steadily growing closer. If he rested now, he’d probably feel right as rain once he barged into the makeshift camp, and he’d probably perform a whole lot better too.

Without giving it too much more thought, he plunked down against a large rock to give himself some semblance of coverage, tilting his head back and trying to catch his breath.

Apparently, it was easier said than done.

Unfortunately, the unceremonious way he lowered himself to the ground kicked up dust all around him, and it was quickly becoming harder and harder to breathe around the particles.

Also, for some reason, his panting wasn’t seeming to slow down. On the contrary, his breathing only seemed to become more erratic.

He suddenly paled when a thought crossed his mind.

When he was a little boy, he remembered being rushed to the doctor after he caught a cold once. He had been struggling to breathe, and his mother didn’t know what else to do.

The doctor had told them that it had been something called an asthma attack. He said that Gene would likely outgrow it, but to be careful, because under the right circumstances, he could always relapse.

This sure as hell seemed like the "right circumstances". 

Gene scrambled to sit up, thumping at his chest with a fist in an attempt to get some air.  Strangled coughs left his mouth, returning as grating wheezes. He would have cursed if he could. 

He tried to cough again, he tried to do anything that would open his airways somehow, but it was no use. It felt like he was breathing through a straw-- like his body was simply going through the motions of inhaling without taking in any air.

He silently wondered if this was how he was going to die. There was no one around for miles except the very group of people that wanted him dead. The odds didn’t seem to be in his favor.

Still, he struggled valiantly for oxygen as black dots danced around his vision. He suddenly felt the strange sensation of his entire body tingling. He wheezed harder.

••••

“I’m gonna go check if there's anything useful down the mountain. I ain't gonna be far. Holler if you hear anything,” Cassidy called out, tucking his revolver into his hip holster and beginning down the rough trail.

The gang’s current situation was… less than ideal. The train job had gone south, and Montana made the quick decision to have everyone split up.

Cassidy ended up with mostly the women and children. He supposed Montana wanted someone he trusted with the less skilled gunslingers.

That was Montana; always thinking two steps ahead. If he trusted Cassidy enough to take care of all these people, then by God he was gonna do it.

And that started with investigating the strange sound coming from down the trail.

Cassidy hadn’t said anything earlier. He didn’t want to scare the little ones, but he was quite certain there was a dying bobcat or coyote or something just a few minutes down, and there was no way in hell he was gonna let it near his camp.

He carefully skidded down a ledge and hopped onto a little patch of dirt. The sound was getting louder now, and he reached a hand down to his hip.

He whipped out his gun as he rounded the corner, aiming it towards the sound and--

In front of him was, in fact, not a dying animal, but the last person Cassidy had expected (or wanted) to see.

And something was very wrong.

Gene was leaned back against a rock, hands clutching frantically at his chest. His eyes were wide and panicked, blinking rapidly as if trying to clear his vision. The worst part, though, were the sickly wheezes and gasps that left him. His lips were tinged pale blue as he fought for every breath he took.

“Shit, Delaney,” Cassidy hissed, crashing to his knees beside the deputy. Deft hands quickly unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt as Cassidy yanked him up to a sitting position.

Cassidy knew what this was. He was no stranger to these kinds of attacks. One of the younger boys in the gang had severe asthma as well. Cassidy was in charge of periodically stealing asthma cigarettes from the doctor when they went into town and--

Right. The box must be at camp.

“Alright, stay right here. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Gene’s eyes flashed with fear, a plea of “don’t leave me.” Another high-pitched wheeze escaped his lips, almost sounding like a word.

“S’lver,” Gene managed, trying to grab at his wrist.

“I know, I know. I’m gonna help. I ain’t gonna leave you. Just gimme a second, would ya?” He huffed, before sprinting away.

Ms. Holly, one of the mothers at camp, stepped forward when she saw Cassidy running to her tent like a maniac.

“Now just what exactly did you see out there-- what are you doing going through my boy’s stuff?!”

“Can’t talk,” was all Cassidy could manage before emerging with the box of cigarettes.

Her further questions were cut off by Cassidy bolting out and back down the mountain.

“Now what in the hell was that about?” She murmured.

Cassidy practically flew down the mountain this time, not caring about watching his step. He found Gene easily, but noted with horror that his wheezes were quieter now-- they were weaker. 

“You’re gonna owe me big time, cowboy,” Cassidy remarked, sparking up his lighter and lighting one of the medicated cigarettes.

Gene was flagging now, eyes glassy and unfocused. He hardly even reacted to Cassidy kneeling beside him and propping him up once again.

Cassidy carefully pressed the cigarette to Gene’s lips, stabilizing him with a gentle hand on his chest.

“C’mon, y’damn idiot, you gotta puff,” Cassidy urged, patting Gene’s chest lightly.

Gene coughed slightly, and attempted to do as he was told. He took a small, sputtering drag of the cigarette, coughing at the bitter taste of the smoke.

“Good, that’s real good. I know it tastes as foul as sin, but it’ll help you. Just keep goin’” Cassidy soothed, his voice surprisingly gentle.

After a few more choked drags from the cigarettes, the color began to return to Gene’s face. He was still wheezing, but he felt like he was actually taking some air in instead of just spasming. 

Cassidy hadn’t noticed that his hand was rubbing up and down the deputy’s spine the entire time.

When Gene's airways finally opened up enough to take a full breath, he collapsed listlessly against Cassidy, panting for sweet oxygen. He looked utterly spent.

“S’lver,” He coughed, reaching up to catch his wrist. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it." His eyes flitted up in the direction of the camp. "I assume this means you’ll turn a blind eye to this?”

Gene nodded, letting his eyes fall shut. He didn’t give a damn what the sheriff would say, he was just grateful to be alive.

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