#it fits the space exactly and yes i know I'll only live here for a year or two and that's 50kg of solid wood and steel | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alavestineneas · 1 year

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Silence

pairing: Clove Kentwell x fem!reader

summary: There has to be more to life than this endless cycle of violence and death. Otherwise, what's the point?

warnings: out of character, violence, mentions of death and torture

word count: 3k

author’s note: It’s completely my take on Clove’s future if she won the Games years before Katniss and lived long enough to see the Second Rebellion. In my head, she would grow to hate the Capitol as much as most victors do. As for the fic, I wrote a more certain ending for this one but was not sure whether it fits here. If you are interested in reading a so-called part 2, let me know. Enjoy!

Silence. The thing that has followed Clove the most since her victory. It was everywhere—exhausting, haunting, and almost inevitable. Her mother calls it peace, but she doesn't seem to understand much of Clove's life. There has to be more to life than this endless cycle of violence and death. Otherwise, what's the point?

Silence is yet again her only companion in an empty office. She has been there countless times but never received a punishment. It is almost interesting; to see how things work from the other side, although her body aches in alarming waiting.

The office feels lifeless, and Clove thinks it has something to do with the lack of decor. It's as if the space is designed to be temporary, as if no one is meant to stay here for long. Clove wonders if this is intentional or simply a byproduct of the job's demands. Either way, it adds to the sense of isolation that she feels. She tries to push these thoughts aside, but her mind keeps drifting back to the emptiness around her. She wonders how long she can keep up this charade of normalcy before it all becomes too much to bear.

The door finally opens, and the man in his usual white uniform enters the room. Clove doesn't stand up, although the protocol says she should. What's the point of formalities?

The man recognizes her. While District 2 has a lot more victors than others, they can still be counted on ten fingers. The soldier's face twists, his mouth curving in a slight O-shape.

''Kentwell?'' he barks.

Clove nods, almost curious about his following actions. Undoubtedly, the whip doesn't discriminate between the golden stars of Panem and commoners. However, they live in separate areas, earn more money, and wear different clothes for a reason. The Capitol's goal is to divide the district from within, diverting their attention from the real threat. She knows that now.

''I'll make a call.''

The man leaves as rapidly as he came, - the door closes behind him with a loud thud. The walls here are paper-thin. Does the Capitol not trust its guard dogs? Although it has its perks, she must admit - Clove can hear the call better than her heartbeat.

''Report.''

''Ma'am, I have case fifty-eight.''

Clove knew exactly what that meant. She braced herself for the inevitable order that would follow.

''And do I need to remind you what to do in such cases?''

''No, ma'am. But I thought it was better to report: we have a victor.''

There was a moment of silence before the female voice spoke again.

''Lessen the whipping.''

''But ma'am, the protocol states that...''

''Roundtree, execute.''

''Yes, ma'am.''

Clove hears the man take hurried steps back to the office but doesn't pay him much attention. Her sentence, while not as harsh as it should be, remains. Clove's stomach turns in dread; this time, she gets what she deserves for not being careful enough.

The party is at its peak when Clove shows up. Her movements are slower than usual; while the wounds are not bleeding anymore, they still ached. The dress stylists gave her barely covered white bandages—if you looked long enough, you could put two plus two together.

The mayor's house is crowded with important people from the district's elite. Those people look idiotic in a pitiful attempt to mimic Capitol's people. It's almost funny how they think they are closer to them than their people here. The real power lies with those who control the resources and manipulate the masses for their own gain. Clove can't help but feel a sense of disgust at how easily these people are fooled into thinking that they are part of something greater, when in reality they are just being used for someone else's benefit.

''Miss Kentwell!''

The mayor's face is a little red, likely from the heat or the amount of alcohol he consumed. The man is near sixty, although Clove is not entirely sure; they say work like this ages people quicker. His face, framed by odd round glasses, expresses nothing but delight. If Clove had to guess, she would assume he doesn't know about her small rebellion yet or doesn't bother remembering it.

''I believe you haven't met Miss Y/L/N before; she isn't a big fan of our smallish dinners. A woman of work, you see.'' The man throws up his hands as if it were a ridiculous idea. ''But what can be better than this, am I right?''

Clove agrees, chuckling into her glass. The mayor seems not to notice her obvious sarcasm, happy to prove his point. The woman beside him, however, doesn't miss it; her piercing eyes are riveted to Clove, examining her.

''What do you say if I get you, ladies, something to drink?''

The mayor breaks the silence settled between them, and Clove opens her mouth to disagree—her glass is half full anyway, but the woman is quicker.

''Sounds wonderful, Fellord.''

If she wasn't curious about the woman before, she definitely is now. Not a lot of people consider themselves good friends with the mayor, and, for sure, not people her age—the woman looks a few years older than Clove.

''I would ask you to dance, Miss Kentwell, but, unfortunately, I am the proud owner of two left feet.''

The woman smiles, and Clove thinks she has heard this voice before. Perhaps she works at the mayor's office.

"Well, that makes two of us, Miss Y/L/N.''

''Oh, call me Y/N. I can't have such a beautiful woman think I am a prune, can I?'''

''That would be a catastrophe indeed.''

Clove likes the woman. She doesn't look as posh as most people here; her dress is much simpler, and her neck doesn't bear the burden of a hundred pearls. She is quite captivating, too. Something about her stance and confidence make Clove's brain a little cloudy.

''Here come the drinks.'' The mayor is yet again near them, holding two stemwares with bubbling liquid. ''Miss Y/L/N, I am afraid I have to steal you; there is a line of people I absolutely need to introduce you to. Miss Kentwell.'' he nods, passing her a glass.

The woman left, leaving nothing but a fling of curiosity in Clove's mind and a pleasant warmth in her body. While taking a woman as a lover wasn't unusual in the Capitol, here it would raise some eyebrows.

Clove's eyes fell on the glass left behind by the woman. It was half-full, the condensation on its surface glistening in the dim light of the room. She couldn't help but wonder who this woman was and what her story might be. Yet Clove has more important things on her mind now. She needed to focus on her mission, gather information, and make connections that would help the rebellion.

It's 4 in the morning when Clove makes her way into the kitchen; nightmares keep her sleepless most nights. The day is already breaking, slowly painting the sky in shades of pink and orange. The district is long awake; workers are just now returning from the night shift in the Nut. Clove sees their small, dark figures coming down a broad path. It is too far to make out the faces, although it's not hard to predict how tired and dirty they look.

The Capitol doesn't pay half what their labour is worth—not enough money to feed a grown man, let alone a family. Clove hears the talks in pubs—people are angry, and rightly so. The discontent is growing, but not as quickly as she would like it to.

But Plutarch believes that the time for revolution has come, and Clove can't help but feel a glimmer of hope. She knows that the 75th Games are fast approaching, and with them, the potential for change. Though she also knows that change won't come easily. The Capitol will fight tooth and nail to maintain their power, and it won't be long before they realize what Plutarch is planning.

Clove can only wish that he's right about the people being ready to rise. As she watches the sun set over District 2, she can't help but wonder what the future holds. Will they succeed in overthrowing the Capitol? Only time will tell, but one thing is certain: Clove is ready to fight.

Maybe it's the reason for her sentiments now—she had never felt this way before. Clove had dated in middle school, but it was nothing serious. And since then, she had only had a few hookups—nothing that made her heart race like this. It was almost embarrassing to admit to herself that she was blushing at the thought of someone she barely knew.

Clove sighs, gathering her thoughts. It is time she got going; the revolution won't plan itself.

A few gunshots are heard somewhere nearby. Clove is running for her life through the narrow streets of the slums. She feels her legs burning with heat and a sharp pain aches in her calves. Was disobeying Lime's orders and attending the worker's gathering stupidheat,? Sure. She wishes she had never done it, but it's too late for regrets now.

Clove has run far enough to be out of peacekeepers' reach for now. The fire in her lungs is almost unbearable, and her heart is high on adrenalin. The shouts of the less fortunate are loud and clear; if she closes her eyes, it's like she is back at the arena.

She had escaped death once again, and it was starting to feel like a blessing and a curse all at once. Fate seemed to be playing a cruel game with her. As Clove caught her breath, she knew that she needed to move quickly before anyone came searching for her. The home was the safest place for her right now, and she needed to make it there without being seen.

She straightens up, lifting her eyes off the dusty ground.

Looking right at her are two pairs of eyes.

Peacekeepers.

Caught.

Clove feels the air leave her lungs. Her mind races with regret and fear as she realizes that this is the end. She had always known that being a rebel was a death sentence, but she never thought it would end like this. Clove had been so careful, but now it seemed that all her efforts had been in vain. The peacekeepers stood before her, their eyes cold and unfeeling as they trained their weapons on her.

The gunshot fires faster than she has time to react. The foul ground colours are red with blood, contrasting with a white uniform on the still warm, dead body.

The pair of unfazed, cold eyes sent shivers down her spine. Clove finally recognizes her saviour. Y/N. She is also in a white uniform, slightly tinted with blood. She speaks into her radio calmly: ''Soldier 237 is eliminated. The subject is armed. The perimeter is clear. End of report.'' before turning on her feet and leaving in the opposite direction.

Clove takes a deep breath, feeling the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She looks down at her hands, still shaking from the intense encounter. She is alive.

As Clove starts to wander away, she can't help but feel grateful for her saviour. Why did Y/N shoot her partner and not her? Was it because of one conversation a few months ago? Ridiculous. Her mind races with questions, but Clove knows that she may never get the answers.

They didn't come for her. Clove waited for interrogation or a gun to her head at night—nothing. Lyme was furious with her, of course, but Clove still managed to grab a few pieces of information vital to the planning.

Clove has looked at death's face many times, but she hasn't been so shaken in forever. Perhaps she is getting older, or the impact of betrayal was big enough to darken her mood.

It wasn't even a betrayal to begin with; she has to remind herself that Y/N promised her nothing. Hell, they spoke once or twice, and she was already head over heels. Clove is losing her grip, or maybe she is just tired of not allowing herself to feel anything, but it still hurts more than she would like to admit.

Y/N was an enemy—a serious one. Clove's heart surely knows whom to go for. It would be easier for her to convince herself to hate the woman if she let her partner shoot her. But no, Y/N saved her not once but twice already—she was the voice on the phone. Then she is not just an ordinary soldier; she is someone of higher rank. Someone who can have her dead in a matter of seconds and, for some reason, doesn't.

Clove feels as if her head is ready to explode; the Games have already started. It's only a matter of time before the rebellion begins. Before then, they have to plan a lot. Lyme had gotten the message from District 13: they are ready. Clove isn't sure if she is, but there is no turning back now. The rebellion was coming, and it was only a matter of time before everything exploded into chaos.

The dim light above cast eerie shadows on the blueprints. The silence in the room was suffocating. Their recent mission failed; the rebels lost a lot of their people and weapons. The revolution raged in all parts of Panem; however, the power of authority in District 2 remained strong.

Clove was low. Besides a few wounds gained on their last mission, she lost a few good soldiers. Those past months were nothing but agony; the constant lack of food and medical care destroyed the rebellious spirit better than any propaganda. Clove doesn't want to admit it, but she is scared. Lyme is too, and that kills Clove from within. The only person who seemed to know something is lost too.

Now, at the meeting of commanders, no one speaks a word. They know that they cannot afford to make any mistakes or take unnecessary risks. The faint knock disturbs the silence. The soldiers look at one another at a loss; their team is already here. The knock grows louder, and the commanders exchange wary glances. They know that they must proceed with caution.

Clove stands up from her seat, grabbing the nearest gun. The door creaks open, and while the lighting isn't helping to make out the face, Clove still does—it's Y/N. Years of training kick in. Her fingers wrap tightly around the trigger of the loaded gun, and she feels a rush of adrenaline as she raises it to point directly between the woman's eyes.

''Drop the gun,'' Lyme commands.

Clove isn't sure if she heard the woman right. It's their enemy she is holding at gunpoint—the reason for their losses.

''Lyme, she is a -'' Clove starts.

''I know who she is. She is on our side. Lower the gun.''

Clove hesitates for a moment, unsure of whether to trust Lyme's words or not. But as she looks into Y/N's eyes, she sees a glimmer of distress that she can relate to. With a deep breath, Clove lowers her gun and steps aside to let Y/N in.

The woman rolls her eyes. ''Finally. I don't have all the time in the world.'' She takes a few first-aid kits out of her bag. ''All I could sneak out without drawing too much attention.''

Lyme nods. ''Commanders, this is Y/N Y/L/N. She was recommended by Plutarch as a valuable soldier.''

Y/N looks around. ''Shall we start?''

The meeting lasted for almost four hours and only ended because of Y/N's departure; they couldn't afford to blow up her cover that foolishly. The woman brought many new points to the plan; having someone who knows the system from within made an enormous difference.

And while a lot became clear after the gathering, Clove found herself even more confused. So as the last person left the room, Clove approached Lyme with a furrowed brow.

"You don't trust her," Lyme stated.

''Clearly. The thing is, why do you trust her?''

Lyme looked at her calmly. ''I don't. When the rebellion was in planning, Plutarch introduced me to her. We've worked together since.''

''How do we know she doesn't betray us at any given chance?''

''She didn't before.'' Lyme shrugged. ''Or did you forget the time she saved your ass?''

As Clove sat there, staring at her friend, she couldn't help but feel the weight of her guilt bearing down on her. She knew it was wrong to hide such a vital piece of information, but she was too ashamed to admit her mistakes. It wasn't just the fear of being judged that held her back; it was the fear of losing everything she had worked so hard for.

''Look, I know it's hard, and frankly, that Plutarch man is slimy, to say the least. But it's all we've got.''

Clove nods. Lyme had always been honest with her, and she had no reason to doubt her now. ''Okay. But I'll keep an eye on her.''

The attack was successful, finally. Clove loosens up a little; a light of hope sparkles in the rebels' eyes once again. More people have joined the resistance since Y/N's addition to the commanders' board. The woman is bright, Clove must admit—she is a trained officer after all.

Lyme has them work together most of the time. Y/N renders an account of the peacekeepers' tactic and plans one to counter. It's hard work—if she makes it too easy, she will be under suspicion; if she doesn't, rebels lose people. Clove is there to report recourses and check for mistakes; after hours of work, it's easy to make one.

''That's it,'' Y/N announces, ''Those are the exists, the ones marked with red—the weakest points.''

Clove nods, taking a seat next to her on a tiny piece of wood—an improvised chair and desk. She feels Y/N tiredly stretch next to her. The handwriting is small and uneven, but understandable enough. ''Good,'' she mutters under her breath.

''The Nut won't be easy to take; you have to know that. I have fifteen people making the decisions there; I can't go against their commands.''

''I know.'' Clove feels the ache in her chest growing. Why can't things be easy for once? When Y/N steps out of this forgotten factory, she is a peacekeeper. And if she had the order to kill her, she would.

''The sun is almost up. I have to go.'' Y/N stands up, and Clove feels the cold touch her skin. She wants to say something to make her turn and listen, but she knows deep down that it wouldn't have made a difference. Clove watches the woman look around before disappearing in the morning fog. If only they had more time.

The Nut was invincible, just like Y/N had predicted. They've already tried four times. Nothing. A crushing defeat each time. Their miserable position even earned them guests—the Mockingjay and her famous squad.

Clove listens to their discretions, not too attentively—what do these people know about her home? Was a seventeen-year-old speech supposed to make workers turn their backs on the system they had been under for 75 years?

She shares a look with Y/N; she is also not impressed. As the conversation progresses, Clove finds the situation they are in dreadful—after executing the plan, most of the workers will be dead. She knows her people well; they won't surrender to someone who just bombed them. It's common sense.

''I'll check the weapons for tomorrow.'' Y/N stands up. She is angry.

''Alone? How do we know you won't purposefully ruin them?'' one of the newcomers asks.

Y/N opens her mouth to say something, but Clove is quicker. ''I'll make sure of that.''

The walk to the armoury is silent; Y/N is fuming. She goes over the guns and bullets, the weapons in her hands changing faster than Clove blinks.

''I'll try to save as much as I can," she finally says.

''What?''

''The people. I'll command them to surrender.''

Y/N's words hang in the air, and for a moment, there is silence.

Clove feels a lump form in her throat as she realizes the gravity of what Y/N has just said.

''But they will kill you then.''

''Earlier than you can say cheese," Y/N chuckles. ''But I'm dead anyway.''

''I'm afraid we both are.''

They look at each other for a moment.

''Fuck it then.''

Y/N shortens the distance between them in a few quick steps, her body pressing Clove against the cold wall. The closeness of their bodies sends shivers down Clove's spine. The kiss is hungry, almost heated. Clove feels her cheeks burn, and blood rushes through her veins. It's hard to focus on anything Y/N is doing to her; it feels too good.

''Fuck me.'' Clove's voice is hoarse with desire, and she doesn't immediately realize that the words have left her mouth until she hears a familiar chuckle.

''Right here?'' Y/N raises her eyebrow, her lips a hot, soft, rosy mess.

Clove nods almost too quickly, but she is far from caring; she wants those lips on her body again.

"You don't have to ask twice."

Their lips met again in a passionate embrace. Clove moans softly as Y/N's hands roam over her body, exploring every inch of her skin. The intensity of their desire is almost overwhelming, but she doesn't want it to end. Tomorrow, the world will burn; they have a few hours before then.

Y/N left at dawn, as she had all those times before. Except for this one, Clove couldn't hold her tears for long; small, almost invisible droplets ran down her cheeks when she returned to her troop. Lyme threw her a meaningful glance, and Clove shook her head. She is fine. For the first time, Clove felt at peace with the silence around her.

#thg #hunger games #clove kentwell #district two #wlw #imagine #au #clove kentwell x reade #clove kentwell x y/n #clove kentwell x you #i love women

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mesillusionssousecstasy · 1 year

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TSITP 2x06 - "Love Fest" : Quotes

"- I don't know I'm kind of happy here, and not in a pharmaceutically induced way. (Skye) - And I want you to be happy. I want you to know them. (Julia) - Do you? Because it kind of feels like you've kept me away and only told me all the bad stuff. But, I don't know, I mean, this place is king of lime our last tie to them. (Skye) - (...) Just.... don't be surprised if the phone doesn't ring. (Julia) - I know you genuinely believe that you're gonna get closure by selling this house, but you're not. You never will. (Skye) - What makes you so sure? (Juila) - Because you're not selling it for closure or for money or any of the other reasons. You're selling it for confirmation. That you could... that we could never belong here. That if you tried, it would just be shitmas all over again. (Skye) "- Don't tell me you bought your own Christmas gifts, too. (Julia) - Hey, at least I'm guaranteed to get exactly what I want. (Susannah) (...) - Can you just quit with the martyr mentality? Jesus, you're making her out to be like Meredith Blake or whatever he name is from The Parent Trap." (Susannah) - So you think I made it up? (Julia) - Mom, obviously not. I mean, your dad was an emotionally withholding prick. And Aunt Susannah was in denial about her parents' shittiness. But the moment Conrad and Jeremiah came to you with a version of their house and their family that didn't fit, you just shut down. I mean, instead of hearing them out, you got rid of all their suff and took the first offer on the table? Mom. You have the biggest heart, and it really sucks to see you close it off because of the past." (Skye)

"- Okay. So, I know things aren't going so great right now, but it's always the darkest before the dawn, right? (Jeremiah) - It's over. (Conrad) - No. Our last memory here can't be this. Everyone miserable and defeated. I mean, this place deserves a better goodbye than that. (Belly) - Like what? My mom came to the beach house with Susannah for the first time after her dad died. And it was supposed to be just the two of them, but Susannah hated how empty the house felt, so she decided to throw a huge party. Everyone was dancing and drinking, and they went swimming at midnight. And Susannah said it was like Gatsby or something. So I say that we throw a party, too." (Belly)

"- But, yes, Taylor does have some good therapy in her back pocket, despite her questionable sources. You... tend to either live way up here, where everything is awesome, or way down here, where everything's shit." (Steven)

"- You know those places you always end up in your dreams? You know, your subconscious brain takes you there 'cause it's a safe space in real life? (Jeremiah) - Yeah. (Belly) - This house is that for me. And after today, I'll only ever get to swim in this pool in my dreams. It's weird. (Jeremiah) - Well... I mean, if if time is running out... (Belly) - You did not just do that. (Jeremiah) - Sorry. You were going dark. I had to save you from yourself. (Belly) - Is that all you got? (Jeremiah) - Yeah! No! (Belly) - You know, I never thought we were gonna lose this place. Did you? (Belly) - No. Never. (Jeremiah) - I always thought I loved this place as much as I possibly could. Now I... I can't help but think I didn't love it enough." (Belly)

"- Babe? (Milo) - Yes, baby, I'm-I'm here. (Taylor) - When are you coming back? I'm trying to write some new songs, but I need my muse next to me." (Milo)

"- Uh, gin for Skye. (Jeremiah) - Who drinks gin? (Belly) - Old people and Skye." (Jeremiah)

"- Oh, no. What, your I.D. didn't work, Mr. Herbertson? (Jeremiah) - Fuck off. At least I have one. (Conrad) - What? Listen, it's 'cause I don't need one, all right? Jumper and I are tight. You know, we're, like, bros. Come one, how hard could it be? Watch and learn. (Jeremiah) - Oh, look at that face. (Conrad) - So, what? Do you want to, like, pay someone to go in and buy it for us or... ? Try a different store? (Jeremiah) - Yeah. Hop a few towns over, where they don't know us as well? (Conrad) - Yeah, I just don't think that anyone is gonna buy your Guam I.D. (Belly) - I would love to hear your plan, Isabel. (Conrad) - Why don't I just go in and ask? (Belly) - That's not gonna work. (Conrad) - He's right, it's not gonna work. (Jeremiah) - Okay." (Belly)

"- No. No, no, I'm not. (Belly) - Oh? (Jumper) - I'm gonna tell you the truth, and then you can decide if you want to help me out. Uh, so here's the deal. It's been a really crappy six weeks. (Belly) - Yeah, I, I heard about their mom. (Jumper) - And I'm sure, um, you heard the house was for sale. (Belly) - Was? (Jumper) - It actually sold this morning. So tonight is our last night here, for, like, ever. (Belly) - Whoa. That blows. (Jumper) - Yeah, I know. It really, really blows. Have you ever just had, like, the shittiest day and all you want to do is just hang out with your friends and have a beer?" (Belly - Seriously Belly)

"- Let's get this in the car quick. And do not get pulled over on the way home, or I'll say you stole it while I was on the john. (Jumper) - I can't believe you just asked. (Jeremiah) - I can't believe it worked. (Conrad) - Come on, you guys. Not everything has to be so complicated. (Belly) - For me? (Jeremiah) - Yeah. (Belly) - What's you get me? (Jeremiah) - Drink it and see. (Belly) - Half cherry, half Coke. Your specialty. Nice. (Jeremiah) - Yeah. (Belly) - Where's mine? (Conrad) - You always say they're too sugary. (Belly) - Yeah, well, I'm thirsty, so too bad. Mm. It's too sugary. And I thought cocoa was your specialty." (Conrad)

"- All right, so what's the plan here? (Conrad) - Uh, I mean, it's a rager, right? (Belly) - So, go big. How big are we talking, Bells? (Jeremiah) - Right. I mean, are we talking, like.... Dad's Amex big or... ? (Conrad) - The sacred emergency Amex? Are you thinking what I'm thinking? (Jeremiah) - What? (Belly) - Blow-up furniture, strobe lights, bubble machines... the whole shebang. (Jeremiah) - Yes, yes and yes. (Belly) - Yes? Okay. Last one to fill a cart has to load it all in. Go! (Jeremiah) - Wait. Wait. Wait. Stop!" (Belly)

"- Retro vibes? (Steven) - Yeah. (Taylor) - That's sweet. He. I would come to this. I would at least stop by. (Steven) - Oh, my God. Please. You wouldn't even be on the guest list if you weren't throwing the party. No, but, look, I tagged Marisa and Dara. I mean, who else? (Taylor) - Please. Look, they're the biggest gossips in town. Everybody in Cousins will know about this party in no time. (Steven) - You think Shayla will come? (Taylor) - No. No, she in Ibiza. (Steven) - Oh. (Taylor) - And, yes, she calls it "Ib-eeth-a". (Steven) - No way. (Taylor) - No! You do that one more time, it's off the list. (Steven) - Whatever. Like you didn't put it on here specially for me. (Taylor) - Okay, yeah. Only because you and Belly forced me and my mom to watch your little dance routine ad nauseam. (Steven) - Okay, that is an overexaggeration! (Taylor) - 'Cause how I remember it is a little a flair with a leg kick." (Steven)

"- There is nothing fun in your cart. This is a party. (Belly) - These plates have glitter on 'em. (Conrad) - You need to get out more, Conrad. No, it's not that. Can we just talk about the elephant in the room that I feel like we both are pretending isn't there? (Belly) - Yeah. Of course. (Conrad) - I've been trying to figure out how to say it. How to apologize for that day. Susannah's funeral. (Belly) - Belly, you don't have to apologize for that. (Conrad) - Please. Just let me say this. I never meant to make that day about me. I was awful to you. I mean, I'm so ashamed of how I acted. It's just not how I wanted the day to go at all. I wanted to be there for you. That's why I went to go find you in the rec room. It's not fine. It wasn't fine. And I saw Aubrey and it's not like we were together anymore. It's not like I had any right. (Belly) - Of course you did. I was having a panic attack. I just crumbled. Felt like I couldn't breathe. Aubrey was just the one who found me. I really wish it was you. (Conrad) - Hey, Jere. We almost done. (Belly) - Cool. Uh, hurry up then. (Jeremiah) - Leave 'em around so everybody can take pictures at the party. We got to get one of all of us together. Like Susannah made us do every summer. (Belly) - That's a good idea." (Jeremiah)

"- Okay, but so I part my teeth first and then stick my tongue out? (Skye) - What are you guys talking about? (Belly) - Apparently Skye's never kissed anybody. (Taylor) - Which is completely normal and fine. (Belly) - I know. Externally imposed societal expectations of "normal" have no effect on me. That being said, I've decided that I am ready and willing and would like to know what to do with the various parts of my mouth when it meets another mouth. (Skye) - You want to take this one? I mean, Belly's the expert. Cam, Jere, Conrad.... (Taylor) - Taylor. (Belly) - What was it like kissing all them? Was it different? And in what ways? And feel free to be as technical as humanly possible. (Skye) - Yeah, Belly, spare no detail. What happened? (Taylor) - Um, me first kiss with Cam was really, really sweet. And with Conrad, I wasn't even in my body. I think I kind of blacked out. Uh, and with... Jeremiah, ... I thought it would be really weird 'cause we've been friends for so long, but.... It was surprisingly really hot. Like, really, really hot. Pretty hot. (Belly) - Well, then, out of all three, who would you kiss again? (Skye) - Isn't it obvious? (Taylor) - No comment. (Belly) - But is there ever a situation in which it's, like, all teeth and no tongue? (Skye) - Stop let yourself be in the moment and everything else will come naturally. (Belly) - Yeah. Just make sure they moisturize. (Taylor) - Care to explain? (Belly) - Milo is obsessed with lip balm. It honestly changes the game. (Taylor) - Try not to overthink it. Okay? I mean, your first kiss is supposed to feel like a dream. It there's any place where dreams come true, it's here." (Belly)

"- And Jeremiah's been swallowed by the garage. (Conrad) - You know, I always hated when Mom made us take these photos. It's like she knew we'd want them later though. (Jeremiah) - Oh, dude. No. We're so young. I can barely even remember some of those summers. (Conrad) - What if it all fades? All our memories of her. (Jeremiah) - It won't. Hey. When the movers get that stuff to Boston, the first thing I'm gonna do is I'm gonna find that picture Mom painted of you last summer. Because I never want to forget that thing. (Conrad) - You suck. (Jeremiah) - I think a museum might take it. I'm being honest with you. (Conrad) - All right. Get out of here. (Jeremiah) - I think everyone deserves to get to see Greek god Jeremiah." (Conrad)

"- Hey, what's in there? (Belly) - Oh, you know, bunch of stuff. (Jeremiah) - Oh, my God! Susannah's roller skates. I haven't seen these in forever. (Belly) - Right? (Jeremiah) - Wow. You think they fit? (Belly) - Okay, just don't throw up on anyone doing spins, all right? (Jeremiah) - That was one time. (Belly) - I had to throw that shirt away. (Jeremiah) - Okay. What else is in here? Let's see. I actually have this one, uh, taped on the mirror in my bedroom. (Belly) - Yeah. Look at how you're mooning over Conrad. (Jeremiah) - It was a long time ago. (Belly) - Really? 'Cause it seemed like you were looking at him like that earlier. (Jeremiah) - No. I wasn't. (Belly) - At the store. Felt like I was... walking in on something. (Jeremiah) - Uh, it's... it's kind of hard to explain. I mean, I think.... sometimes you're getting over your past and-and moving on in-in the present all at the same time. I don't know. Does that make any sense?" (Belly)

"- You look hot. (Taylor) - Really? It's not too much? (Belly) - No. Jeremy's gonna love it. (Taylor) - What? (Belly) - Mmm-mm. You've been looking at him all day like he's this ice cream cone you're dying to lick. (Taylor) - Taylor! Shh! Please. (Belly) - Sorry. (Taylor) - That's so... Mm, it's just... (Belly) - It's complicated. (Taylor) - Yeah, no that's exactly what he said to me. After he told me that he didn't kiss me during the truth or dare because, if he started kissing me, he wouldn't be able to stop. (Belly) - Belly, that's, like, Wattpad-level hot. (Taylor) - I know. (Belly) - You could sell that. (Taylor) - I know. But then... I don't know... there was..., like, this weird moment with Conrad today. (Belly) - I don't want to talk about Conrad. He really hurt you. (Taylor) - I know. It was probably just echoes. You know? (Belly) - It sounds messy. You know, just be careful, okay? (Taylor) - Yeah. No, you're right. Right. Uh, yeah. I will be. You know, besides, like, tonight is about something bigger. Yeah. It's party time, Yeah? (Belly) - You got this? (Taylor) - Yeah. (Belly) - All right, get dressed quick. (Taylor) - Okay." (Belly)

"- Oh, my God. (The gang) - Oh, my God, Marisa, I'm so glad you were in town. (Belly) - Oh, my God, me too. The gang's back together. (Nicole) - Yeah. I mean... Kind of. (Dara) - I heard about Gigi's dad. That sucks. (Belly) - Okay, she's fine. There's a documentary crew following her, and she thinks she's the next Kim K. (Dara) - Dara, you signed an NDA. You're not supposed to say anything. (Marisa and Nicole) - Okay, who cares? She told literally everyone. (Dara) - Tell me you didn't miss this drama. (Nicole) - No, I actually... I really did. (Belly) - We missed you. (The gang) - Oh, all right. I will be right back." (Belly)

"- Whoa! - Oh, shit. (Cam) - You don't need to hurt yourself to get my attention. (Jeremiah) - Uh, I got to get another one. So I'll BRB." (Belly)

"- No, I don't think so. (Steven) - Right. O... (Conrad) - Look, I'm rooting for you, bro, just don't fucking break her heart again. (Steven) - Says the guy who's been following Taylor around all night. (Conrad) - Oh, uh, no, I fully cop to that. Come one, man, who's she fooling, you know? (Steven) - You know she has a boyfriend, right? Just... Technically. (Conrad) - Okay, but he's all wrong for her, so... (Steven) - All right, all right. I'm not snitching. I'm just saying, bro. Be careful." (Conrad)

"- If that's gin, I'm killing you. (Conrad) - Aw, it's tequila, come on. (Jeremiah) - Okay, cups up. Listen, no matter how much time passes or how far apart we are, we're always gonna love you guys, okay? (Jeremiah) - All right? All right? - Aw, Jeremy, you cheeseball. (Taylor) - All right, to the last night!"

"- So, is she here? (Milo) - Yeah, I mean, she's around somewhere. (Skye) - Sick. Do you want to give me a direction? Like, east, west, something? (Milo) - We don't know where she is, dude. Sorry (Cam) - Yeah, I mean, she's probably wherever Steven is, so... (Skye) - Then that's where I'll be. (Milo) - What was that? (Cam) - Potentially toxic stew of masculinity masquerading as burning love? (Skye) - Right, and you just stirred it all up. (Cam) - Yeah. (Skye) - We got to warn Taylor. (Cam) - We should find Taylor. (Syke) (...) - I feel like we fulfilled our duty. You know? (Skye) - Yeah. (Cam) - Like, whatever happens next is in the hands of fate and Milo's creepily moisturized lips. (Skye) - I cannot believe that dude drove over 300 miles to make, like, this grand declaration of love for Taylor. (Cam) - I mean, is that, like, a dude thing? Acting on pure instinct and bravado and giving no fucks. (Skye) - It's definitely not a Cam thing. (Cam) - I don't know, maybe it should be. You know, life is short. Cellular decline awaits us all. These vessels are fleeting and finite, no? (Skye) - Yeah, I guess I kind of do have a minor tendency to play it safe. (Cam) - Major tendency. No judgments. (Skye) - You ever been skinny dipping? (Cam) - Is that an invitation? (Skye) - Oh. No. I mean, I wasn't... Uh, no. I was just talking about this, this one time last summer, a bunch of my friends went skinny dipping, and I chickened out, and I still regret it. (Cam) - Like you're gonna regret not getting on that boat? (Skye) - You know what? I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna get on that damn boat. (Cam) - You know... if we are being bold... I was wondering... maybe I could kiss you? I mean, totally feel free to say no. My bad if I was, like, misreading... (Skye) - Yes. (Cam) - Yeah?" (Skye)

"- Taylor you win. (Steven) - I win what? (Taylor) - This. Whatever we're doing. First person to admit they-they caught feelings loses, right? So, I lose. You win. (Steven) - Okay, drama queen. (Taylor) - Stop, Stop. I'm being serious right now, okay? I like you. Even when you were just my little sister's annoying best friend. Like, you were always just this person who was around, and now you're someone I miss when they're not around. I don't know how it happened, or when it happened... But now, you're my favorite person. Come on. Say something, please." (Steven) "- Thank you. (Belly) - Cheers. (Jeremiah) - Hey, where is everyone? I mean, we have to take that, uh, group picture. (Belly) - Oh, I can track them down if you want. Uh, last time I saw Steven he was with Tay-Tay, actually. What's going on there? Yeah, this house has seen its fair share of make-outs. Yeah. You know I had my first kiss in this house? (Jeremiah) - Really? (Belly) - Mm-hmm. And my second, on the same night. (Jeremiah) - Wow. Scandalous. (Belly) - Yeah. (Jeremiah) - Whose hearts were you breaking? (Belly) - You remember Christy Turnduck? (Jeremiah) - Turducken? (Belly) - Yes. The Turducken, yeah. Uh, and then, um, our neighbour at the time. Uh, what was his name? (Jeremiah) - Oh, Clay Bertolet. (Belly) - Um... Yes. Yeah. - No way. You know, he once broke a window in the garage and blamed me. (Belly) - Really? (Jeremiah) - Yeah. (Belly) - He was a good kisser, though. Not as good as you." (Jeremiah)

"- Fight! (Partygoer) - Bro, you need to go. (Steven) - I don't think that's up to you. (Milo) - Can we just go outside and-and cool off a moment, please? (Taylor) - She doesn't even want you here. (Steven) - Shut up, Steven. (Taylor) - Oh, trust me, she wants me. Everywhere. All the time. (Milo) - Can you not do that right now? (Taylor) - Oh! (crowd) - Oh, my God. (Taylor) - Steven. (Jeremiah) - Babe, this is for you. (Milo) - I literally don't even want this. (Taylor) - What is happening? (Belly) - No idea. (Taylor) - Come on, man! - Kick his ass, Steven. - You got it, Steven. - Come on! Get over here! Help! - Milo, stop! You're embarrassing me right now. (Taylor) - Man, fuck this. Come one, Taylor, let's go. These people are too pedestrian for us anyways. (Milo) - These people are my friends. Do you even know me? Like, at all? (Taylor) - Babe, what are you talking about? You're my girl. (Milo) - What's my middle name? (Taylor) - .... (Milo) - Yeah, I can't do this anymore. It's over. (Taylor) - Taylor.... (Milo) - It's Madison. Her middle name is Madison." (Steven)

"- Guys, so I've been texting with my mom, and she was able to put a condition into the sale. Since the buyers are only gonna use this place as a vacation home, they're agreed to let you rend the place for one week every summer. (Syke) - Wait... (Belly) - Wait, are you serious? We get to come back? Oh, my God, Skye, this is amazing. Oh, my God! (Jeremiah) - No, it's not. You can tell your mom thanks, but no. (Conrad) - Come on, Conrad, at least hear them out. It's over. Why are you the only one that gets to make this decision? (Jeremiah) - Jere, we're not gonna pay another family to rent our house. (Conrad) - This isn't our house anymore. (Jeremiah) - Exactly. Let it go. (Conrad) - Yeah, 'cause you're an expert at that. (Jeremiah) - Jere. (Belly) - No, no, this is the shit he does. When things aren't perfect, instead of trying to fix it, he just decides to throw it away. And it's not just the house. You did it to Belly, too. You came to me, you fucking begged me for my blessing to be with her. (Jeremiah) - Is that true? (Belly) - Jere, that was between us. (Conrad) - Yeah, it's fucking true. You know, when shit got tough, he couldn't handle it, and he dropped you. (Jeremiah) - Shut up, Jere. Don't use me to get at him. (Belly) - Belly, come on. (Jeremiah) - You know what? I don't want to be a part of this, okay? (Belly) - Belly... (Jeremiah) - Way to go, Jere. I mean, real classy. (Conrad) - Yeah. You're a real fucking asshole, you know that? (Jeremiah) - Grow up, Jere. (Conrad) - I did grow up! I watched Mom slip away a little bit every single day, while you were at college or with Belly or moping around after you screwed that up. (Jeremiah) - Jere, you know for a fact that I came home every second I could. (Conrad) - But it wasn't every day. (Jeremiah) - Okay, Okay. What do you want, a medal? (Conrad) - You know, I looked up to you every day of my life. And when people said that you were better than me, I wouldn't mind because I believed them, too. But you're not. Now I finally see you for who you really are. (Jeremiah) - What's that? (Conrad) - A coward. You're not someone to look up to. You're not even somebody I want to know." (Jeremiah)

"- Belly! Belly, come back inside. I'm not dragging your dead body out of the ocean if you drown out there. Come out of the water, Belly. (Conrad) - Leave me alone. (Belly) - I can't. (Conrad) - No. What are you... No! Hey! Hey! Hey, put me down! (Belly) - You're drunk, Belly. (Conrad) - Just put me down! Conrad! (Belly) - I'm not gonna put you down. (Conrad) - Let go! Let go! (Belly) - Belly... Come on. Let me help you. Come on. (Conrad) - J-Just go, okay? (Belly) - I'm not leaving you, Belly. (Conrad) - But you already did. (Belly) - Why didn't you tell me you went to Jeremiah about us? Why? Why didn't... (Belly) - I don't know. (Conrad) - If I had known... that you'd done that... that you cared that much about me, and about us.... If I had known, then I would've fought for you. (Belly) - What do you mean? (Conrad) - Fought for us. I would've fought for us. I mean, at prom and at the funeral. I mean, I... would've been there for you, through everything. - I thought you knew. (Conrad) - From the moment we kissed on the beach... (Belly) - I thought you knew. (Conrad) - Then why? Why? Why did you throw it all away? Why? I th... I thought that we loved each other. (Belly) - We did. (Conrad) - I guess not enough." (Belly)

"- I'm really sorry about what happened. (Steven) - It's okay. He shouldn't have come all this way and made a scene like that. I mean, I feel kind of bad. I mean, I don't know... (Taylor) - So, look, what I was saying earlier... (Steven) - You take it all back? (Taylor) - What, do you want me to? You have to say what you want, Taylor. It's your move. (Steven) - You remembered my middle name. (Taylor) - Taylor Madison Jewel." (Steven) "- Belly, come swim with us. Yeah. (The gang) - Are you okay? (Nicole) - Everything is wrong. I promised Susannah I wouldn't lose the magic, but it's gone." (Belly)

"- Mommy. I need you. I'm at the summer house. Susannah's house, except it's not hers anymore, and everything is going wrong, and the boys may never speak to each other again. Just come, please, okay? Just come, please, okay? Just come and fix it.

#the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty quotes #the summer i turned pretty season 2 #tsitp season 2 #tsitp 2 #tsitp #tsitp 2x06 #tsitp quotes

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faveficarchive · 2 years

Text

The Apartment

by Lena

Disclaimers: There are none. This is an original work by myself alone. These characters belong to me and, though they may hold a physical resemblance to certain characters we know, they are created from my own life's experiences and so has this story sprung from that well. Please do not plagiarize. This work comes straight from my heart and soul through a lot of sweat.

Warning: Contains references to a loving relationship between two adult women. If this type of relationship is illegal in your neck of the woods then.................SCAT!

Rating: I rate it PG14 for adult themes. This would likely be considered a Hurt/Comfort story.

DEDICATION: I dedicate this work to my friends, Liz and Val, who've always believed in me and truly loved me unconditionally, and to all my gal pals at Club Uber, especially Vi. My deepest gratitude to Jerry and Mom, without whose help and support I shutter to imagine where I'd be now. I love you all.

This story takes place in a small country town about 85 miles north of New Orleans.

"Second floor apt. avail., rent free, to responsible RN student"

for personal companion services. Must have good driving record and be available one day a week to drive me to my many and varied appointments. You must be able to do a little cooking and to help lift the heavy stuff. No smoking, drinking or partying. I would also like to speak to your parents so they are comfortable with the arrangement. I am a retired nurse and can help with your studies. I live less than five minutes from campus in a quiet area on several acres with a fishing pond. Lots of breathing space here. If you are qualified and interested, please contact me, Josie, at 555-1377 asap. HAVE A GREAT DAY.

"Good gravy, Beth, maybe this ad thing wasn't such a good idea. All I've gotten is calls from 18-year-old children who have never been away from their folks before and haven't got a clue about real life. I don't want some young impressionable girl living here. I am too old to change my manner of living, and speaking, to protect their virgin ears. All I need is some irate parent causing trouble cause the town dyke lured their unsuspecting child into her lair."

The petite brunette rolled her hazel eyes at her best friend of 25 years. "Jo, no one here knows you're gay and you are not exactly the SPIDER WOMAN. Maybe you need to be more specific in your ad as far as age and maturity. It couldn't hurt. Write a new ad and I'll stop by the campus on my way home and replace the old one. Let's just see what happens. You need help around this place, Josie. And, you can't be driving 50 miles, alone, just to see your Chiropractor and go to the mall. I know you do fine around here, but you just can't concentrate long enough for these trips you have to take into the city, not to mention the 85 miles you have to drive to see your Mom. This was a great idea and I still think it will work." Beth walked up behind her friend and placed both her hands on her tight shoulders. "Now go get me a flash card and let's get writing.

"Upstairs apt. avail. free to mature, female, RN student"

for PERSONAL COMPANION services. Must have good driving record and be able to drive me one day a week to all my varied appointments and shopping, do some lite cooking and cleaning, and help lift the heavy stuff. No smoking, drinking or partying. I am a retired nurse and would be able to help you in your studies. Would prefer a more mature woman. You youngsters are a bit much for me. My home is on several acres with fishing pond. Lots of breathing space here and only five minutes from campus. If you fit these qualifications, call Josie at 555-1377. ASAP HAVE A GREAT DAY

***

"Hi, I'm Sandra Abbott. I'm here to be interviewed about the companion position for Josie." The RN student stared uncertainly at the adorable blonde in the doorway. 'Maybe she's the daughter.' Sandy thought to herself.

"Oh, yes. You're the woman who called this morning. Come right in. Can I get you a cup of decaf? It's hazelnut. I grind the beans myself. Just made a pot." Josie gestured to the beauty to have a seat at the table while she slipped into the kitchen alcove to retrieve two cups of her aromatic blend.

"Thanks. Mmmmmm. That smells sinful." Sandra gratefully took the cup and devoted a few seconds to breathing in the intoxicating aroma.

"I see you are a true coffee enthusiast too. I was reared in New Orleans and drank caf' au lait with breakfast as a toddler. Been hooked ever since. People here usually don't appreciate a good cup of java. There are condiments on the table there. Just help yourself." Josie rattled on as she grabbed the notebook containing all the pertinent questions she wanted to ask the applicants and the information she needed to give them.

"Beautiful home." Sandra complimented, admiring the taste and warmth of the medium sized home. She noted how the 9-foot ceilings and polished cherry wood cabinets gave it a feel of the old city.

"Thanks, I designed it to fit my personal needs. I'm afraid I'd have a time reselling it because it only has two bedrooms and two baths, but the second floor is a separate apartment." The petite blond offered eagerly. "Now lets get down to the interview. Shall we."

Sitting down in her director's chair at the head of the dining table, Josie made a concerted effort to be professional about this, but her immediate harmony with the other woman made that difficult. "Now, you read the add and all that will be expected of you, right."

"Yes, I did. Do you want to go over that some more. And, I'd like to meet her. I think it is important that we can get along together. Your mom might not like me." Sandra said in all sincerity.

"My Mom?" Josie was puzzled.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I just assumed it was your mother I'd be caring for." Sandra was a little embarrassed.

"Oh boy.....uh..... No. You'd be a companion, kinda "girl Friday", to me." Josie stated hesitantly, looking into blue eyes full of confusion.

"I don't understand. Why would you need a companion? Are you having surgery are something?" The raven haired beauty tried to figure out what the heck was going on.

"No..... Listen, Sandra, I am ill and have been for a very long time. Some days are much worse than others, then sometimes I'll go into remission for weeks to a few months at a time. But, I literally don't know what I'm gonna be able to do, activity-wise, from one day to the next. I need some freedom to plan my week like everyone else does and to do that I need dependable help. And, I do mean dependable." Josie's sea green eyes held no room for doubt about the gravity of the situation.

"I'm sorry. It must be very hard on you. May I ask what kind of illness it is?"

"Don't worry. It's not catching." The fiery blond sat back in her chair her defensive wall slammed into place.

"I didn't mean it like that. If you don't want to tell me, that's your prerogative. It might help me to better care for you if I knew what to look for." Sandra tried to keep eye contact with her potential employer, but the intensity of her glare was too great.

"Well, I guess this didn't go so well..... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I'll just go now. I hope you find the right person. Thanks for the brew." Sandra let out a sigh of defeat as she raised from her chair and walked to the front door.

"Wait." The word was barely a whisper.

Sandra eagerly turned toward the still seated blond waiting as she'd been bade.

"Would you like to see the apartment?" Josie asked looking at the grain in the wood of her table.

"Yes..... Yes, I would like that very much." Sandra felt her heart become lighter.

"Good. It's this way." Josie released an impish grin as she led her new employee to the garage stairs and up toward her new apartment.

***

"It's not very big but you have a full bath and kitchenette. The rest is all open with two dormer windows with seating area. I love to sit in the window to read or just daydream so I made certain the contractor put that in. If you don't have furniture, I could put a bed, desk and sofa in for you."

"No, I have furniture in storage in New Orleans that I might could have one of the students help me bring over. All these country-types have pickup trucks. It seems to be a requirement." Both women chuckled at that observation.

"So what do you think?" Josie asked hopefully, trying hard to hide the shortness of breath she was experiencing at the exertion of climbing the stairs.

"I think it's perfect. Just what I need. If you'll have me, I'd like the apartment and the job."

"Then, it's a deal." Josie offered her hand and they sealed their agreement.

***

The next two weeks were spent moving Sandra Abbott into her new home, then getting her oriented to Josie's routine. Sandy found it very easy to familiarize herself with where things were due to Josie's nearly religious devotion to the motto "a place for everything and everything in its place". Even with two little dogs running about, the house always seemed orderly. That was likely due to the fact that the larger member of her canine family was not allowed inside, except on the rear screened porch.

Her boss was up every morning before 0600 to walk the dogs and get her head cleared of the fog that dulled her mind and senses. The walks never lasted more than thirty minutes, then she soaked in her over sized tub and washed her short blond hair. Feeling rejuvenated, she was ready for coffee and breakfast, which took longer than most folks because of the large number of medications and vitamin pills she took every morning with her meal. It was her habit to read a good mystery novel during breakfast while she relaxed. This, Sandra was soon to learn, was her quiet time and she new to leave her alone. She'd call upstairs if she needed her.

Tuesdays were Sandra's easy days at school. There were two early morning classes, but no clinicals, so it was decided that Tuesdays would be Josie's errand day. Sandra's time and boundless energy was her's from 10am to 8pm for whatever Josie needed. A bulletin board was placed next to the staircase in the garage so they could communicate. Josie had an inexpensive intercom system put into the house so that Sandra didn't have to have the added expense of a phone. She let her use the phone in the house whenever she needed.

Things were working out to both women's satisfaction. The only sign of Josie's failing health was in her exhaustion when they'd return home on Tuesday evenings. Sometimes she'd fall asleep in the car on the way home and Sandra would assist her to the house, Josie's much smaller body leaning heavily against her arm. She'd deposit her boss on the bed, retrieve her evening meds and a large glass of milk, then tuck her in for a short nap.

Sandra enjoyed cooking for Josie on Tuesdays because she got to experiment with all kinds of delights in her state-of-the-art kitchen. Her boss had rather eclectic culinary tastes and, both being from New Orleans, were accustomed to the spicy flavors and lots of cayenne.

This particular night, she'd whipped up refried beans with low fat sour cream and jalapeno peppers on a whole wheat soft tortilla. The scent wafting from the kitchen awoke her charge and brought her tousled head shuffling into the living area in her bugs bunny slippers, and long sleep t-shirt with Snow White and the 7 Dwarfs dosing on the front. As she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes her companion thought she'd never seen anyone so adorable in all of her 33 years.

"Hey, did you bring your appetite with you? I've made some of your favorites." Sandra couldn't help the silly grin plastered on her face.

"What? What ARE you grinning at?" Josie inquired as her sleepy eyes focused on the sweetest little grin on that strikingly beautiful face.

"I can't help it. You just look so damned cute. Like a six year old." It was hard for the taller woman not to reach down and ruffle her boss' hair. But she didn't want to over step her bounds as an employee.

"Uh...huh. Will you stay and eat with me? It's such a nice night, why don't we eat out on the screened porch. I'll put the ceiling fan on." Josie asked hopefully as she pointed towards the back porch.

"Sounds good to me. Why don't you go get comfy and I'll bring this out to you."

"No. I want to help. Let me pour the Barq's and bring our drinks outside and you can bring the plates and napkins. Ok?" Josie said as she busied herself in the kitchen.

"Sounds good to me. Let's eat." Sandra gathered their plates and proceeded to follow her employer onto the porch where there was a small wicker table with four chairs for just such a meal.

The women ate in comfortable silence for a time until Josie asked, "Tell me about yourself. We spend all our time together with me drilling you on your studies in micro, anatomy, nursing diagnosis and interventions, but never do we talk about you. Where are you from originally, do you have any family, why is a beautiful woman like yourself alone, etc., etc., etc."

Sandra took a deep breath. She had learned to care for this little spit fire and wanted for them to become closer friends but didn't want to say or do anything to compromise her position. "Not much to tell. I'm originally from New Orleans, my parents are divorced, I'm close to my Mom and my little brother, but he got married to a girl he met while studying law at Loyola and moved to Wyoming so she could be close to her family. I don't get to see him cause I just can't afford to travel right now. But, hopefully, once I graduate and start making a descent salary I can go visit them a couple of times a year. I hope I'll be an Aunt by then." Sandra looked up into curious green eyes and smiled.

"Wouldn't that be great. You like kids?" Josie inquired around chewing.

"Yeah, I get a big kick out of the little rug rats. It's teenagers that I find a trial." She chuckled.

"You and the rest of the sane adults in this world. That's such a difficult time in everyone's life and the one time you are least likely to accept advice from an experienced adult. Go figure."

"Yeah. Go figure." Josie watched as a pall of grief passed over her companion's beautiful blue eyes for just a flicker of a candle's flame then was squelched by a noncommital small smile.

"So, go on." Josie urged. "Why is a beautiful woman like yourself alone?"

"I'm not alone. I'm here with you." Sandra smirked.

"You know what I mean." Josie rebuffed. 'This woman and I seem to share the same personality traits. That should be interesting.....not.'

"Yeah, I know. How's about a cup of decaf. I'll get your lap rug and we'll have a real talk. Ok." Sandra proffered as she collected their plates to put in the dishwasher. She didn't know how much about her past she wanted to share with her boss so she decided to just play it by ear. She wouldn't lie to her, but she wasn't gonna offer herself up for sacrifice either.

After cleaning the dishes and brewing some freshly ground coffee, Sandra rejoined Josie on the porch, then covered her up with a warm, soft chenille lap rug. "You warm enough? We could move this party inside, you know." Sandy asked concern written on her face.

"No, I love it out here. I'm fine, really." Josie pat her friends arm and noticed a feeling of warm pleasure. She liked it.

"So, you ask the questions and I'll do my best to answer them, unless I don't want to then I won't. But for every two questions you ask me I get to ask you one. I figured I'd give you the upper hand you being the boss and all." Sandy smirked.

"Fair enough. How old are you?"

"33 back in October."

"Have you ever been married?"

"Yes" Ok, my turn. At the risk of being redundant."

"I know..... I am 44 years old and divorced from a very kind moron..... My turn. Why'd you leave the big city to go to Nursing school in a small town?"

Sandy thought about this answer carefully before responding. "I wanted to get away from the dirt and the crime, not to mention the traffic and one way streets. Going to school here was much cheaper and it was much easier to get accepted. The RN programs in New Orleans are either very expensive or there's a huge waiting list. So, it's all working out and I think I made the right choice. Of course, I miss the food and the culture. You don't seem to have any culture here and not a decent creole restaurant for 50 miles." The tall beauty pouted.

"Oh yeah, I miss the food, the French Quarter, the museum and the zoo. Oh, and the beautiful architecture of the homes with their graceful Great Oaks." The little blond sighed. "But, there are always sacrifices for the things we want." Josie said with quiet conviction.

"Yes. That's true. Now, what made you leave the Big Easy for small town USA?" Sandra sat back with her coffee cup in both hands enjoying the aroma.

"That is a very long story best reserved for a more decent hour. I'm afraid it's passed my bedtime."

"Oh, I've kept you up too late. I'm so sorry. You must communicate with me. Tell me when you're tired. Tell me what you need." Sandra looked sincerely into the gentle green eyes. She felt her gaze captured then released.

Josie saw the concern in her companion's strikingly blue eyes and something else, something that drew her to the young woman. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. "I'm fine. Just tired. Tuesdays are a big day for me now and I do very much enjoy them, thanks to you. The women stood in close proximity of each other feeling slightly awkward like they should hug or something. Josie, being the more physically demonstrative of the two made the first move. Reaching her arms up to the much taller brunette she instructed, "Come give me a hug." Sandra was a little off balanced by her boss's affection but slid her long, graceful arms around the tiny woman's waist as she leaned down so Josie could hug her neck. "I'm glad you're here. Now go home. I'll talk to you tomorrow if I need anything." The smaller woman pulled away and began to turn toward her bedroom.

"I'll...uh...just lock up before I leave, Ok."

"Ok. Goodnight Sandy."

"Goodnight Josie."

***

The following week was pretty routine. There were no notes from Josie requesting Sandra's assistance and the only time the nursing student saw her boss was through her window each morning as she made sure she left for her walk and returned safely.

Returning from her clinicals on Friday there was a note on the bulletin board letting Sandra know that her boss was going to be volunteering her time, along with some other nurses and doctors, offering free vaccinations for the lower elementary school children. She'd been offered a ride by one of her friends and didn't know what time she'd return, but not to worry because she was in good hands.

'It's fucking 10p.m. No school inoculation program goes on this late. Where is she? She should have left me the number of her "friend" who was driving her.' Sandra mumbled to herself and she paced from window to window.

'Now don't panic, Abbott. What kind of trouble could she get into in this podunk town?..... A woman who looks like her....., plenty. Shit! I'm gonna find her.' Sandra grabbed her keys and headed out to the car determined to search the whole damned town if she had to, starting at the lower elementary school.

No one was at the school. In fact, no one was anywhere. The whole damned town was locked up and everyone had gone home. The eerily empty town just served to frighten Sandra more. 'Maybe I should just go home and sit by her phone in case she calls.' The worried beauty turned her car around and headed back to the house.

'I'll pass once through the park just in case.' Sandra thought just to soothe her mind that her friend hadn't been dragged off by some rapist into the many shadows of the small park and playground.

'What was that?' Sandra asked herself as her eye caught the glint of moon light off metal. She backed her car up to get a better look and could make out the outline of a vehicle tucked into the shrubbery. Obviously, somebody didn't want to be seen.

'Let me check this out.' Sandra said to herself as she left the protection of the vehicle and crept over to the rear of the concealed car. Her eyes had not yet adjusted well enough to the darkness to tell definite shapes but the golden hair of her missing boss' head was unmistakable. A white hot rage gripped the companion inspiring her to take action and she ran to the door nearest her friend and ripped it open with great force reaching in and grabbing the dumfounded woman and quite nearly dragging her to safety.

"Hey!!! Hey!!! Hey.....what are you doing? Let me go!" The terrified woman screamed at her assailant.

"Stop fighting me. I'm trying to save you from being raped, here."

Sandra was totally nonplused by her boss' reaction to her heroism.

Josie managed to squirm her little body away from her companion's grasp. "I don't need saving. Damn it all! I wasn't being raped. Now, let me go, Sandra." Josie had composed her voice to a hard command and Sandra let her go as an imposing looking redhead slid out of the back seat of the car tucking her Wynonna t-shirt into her jeans.

"You Ok, cher?" The redhead looked at the little blond who had just recently been making intense love to her. "Who is this crazy woman? You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend now. You need to tell me these things so I don't get shot." She grinned.

Sandra just stood there trying to figure out what the hell was going on and who this woman was and what they were doing in the back seat of a car and 'OH SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!' "Oh shit, shit, shit....., I'm....., oh god....., so sorry. I thought, when you didn't come home, that something had happened to you and..... Oh shit! It never occurred to me that you were....." Sandra pointed back and forth between the two women. "Oh Shit!" The very embarrassed companion paced in a circle, running her trembling hands through her long black hair. "I'm really sorry. Oh shit!"

"You've said that. Let's all calm down. Kathy meet Sandra. She works for me, at least she did up until a few minutes ago. We may have scared her away with our antics. Kathy is a very old friend, a nurse I worked with for years who called to tell me about the drive and we kinda took advantage of the moment." Josie smirked

"You do have a house you know with a nice soft bed. You didn't have to park out here in the dark where lord knows what could happen." Sandra felt her anger rising again.

"Like getting attacked by a crazed nursing student?" Josie giggled. "Come on let's go home. Kathy, sweetheart, sorry for the interruption. Call me. Maybe you'll give me a rain check?"

"Anytime, ma cher. I think you and Xena here have a lot to talk about." With that she leaned down to kiss Josie's cheek and waved goodbye to the still stunned companion.

Josie looked up into vacant eyes and said, "Come on, I'LL drive YOU home." Sandra just nodded and followed her boss to the car.

Josie pulled into the garage and stopped the engine. "You want some brew and we can talk about this?" She lifted worried green eyes to study the stiffened features of her friend.

"No....." Sandra sighed then looked down at her hands surprised to find them wringing the tail of her shirt into a wrinkled mess. "I have to think. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Does that mean you'll be moving out?" Josie was very concerned she'd loose her companion and friend.

"No, no I'm not going anywhere....., unless you want me to leave." Sandra held her breath fearing the worst.

"No..... Stay. I want very much for you to stay." Josie softly responded.

"Good. Tomorrow then." Sandra practically dove out of the car and ran up the stairs to her apartment, locking the door behind her.

***

Saturday morning Sandra kept watch as she always did to make certain her boss safely returned from walking the dogs. She'd not known Josie to skip her morning walk, shorten it now and then, but never not walk her little buddies. They were like her children and she took excellent care of them. There was the big mongrel, Rover, who had just shown up one day after apparently being dumped and decided to stay and then there were the babies, two little sickly long-haired chihuahuas that she adopted from the vets because she felt her nursing skills could improve their quality of life. One had a heart condition and the other was born with a deformed rear leg. She named them Scooby and Doo after her favorite cartoon character, who just so happened to be a Great Dane. Scooby was totally devoted to her mistress as her mistress was to her.

'I'd better go check on her.' The companion decided not to just sit and worry when her boss could be in trouble.

She knocked for the 4th time with no response before using her key to unlock the kitchen door. Calling out her boss' name softly, so as not to frighten her, she walked in. Getting no response to her calls, Sandra quickly ran to her friend's bedroom, then through to the bath. Not finding her there, she turned back around into the living area. There she found the little blond sitting askew on the sofa next to the fireplace. The logs had burned down hours before. Her skin looked pale and waxy with a sweaty sheen covering her but her chest rose and fell rhythmically. Sandra released an audible sigh of relief.

"Josie.....?" Sandra came to sit next to her boss on the sofa and reached out to touch her forehead. It was burning up. "Come on now, boss, it's time to wake up." There was no response. Sandra became alarmed and took a small hot hand into her own, patting it and calling to her more assertively. "Josie, can you hear me. It's Sandy, honey. Please wake up. You're scaring me." The tiny woman stirred, eyelids fluttered to show blood shot green eyes that wouldn't quite focus.

"Sandy?" She slurred. Her tongue felt thick as the fog filling her mind.

"Yeah. It's me."

"Sandy? What's the matter? What time is it?" Josie tried to orient herself, but it was difficult to concentrate. She recognized the symptoms and new she was no longer in remission. She was sick, yet again, and would need her companion's assistance to function until she was able to arrest the symptoms one more time. She groaned with the knowledge of what lay in front of her. Then groaned again when she remembered the night before and what Sandy had seen and the talk she knew they had to have. "I'm sick, Sandy."

"I know, honey. Tell me what you need and I'll do it. Ok? Can you do that for me?" The sympathetic woman gently brushed the blond's bangs off of her wet forehead to comfort her.

"I need my morning meds and the prednisone that's in the medicine cabinet and bring me the tin that's in there too. I need a big glass of milk and some tin roof Sunday ice cream." She concluded her list with just a trace of a grin on her pale face.

"Ice cream?" Sandy looked at her friend in amusement.

"For medicinal purposes only. It'll help bring my temperature down faster..... Well, it will." Josie giggled, swallowed and made a face. "Gods, my throat hurts. Shit."

Sandra retrieved all the items requested as well as some tylenol and chloraseptic losenges she found in the cabinet. "Here, let me help you sit up and get comfortable. Now, take these." The companion handed her boss a few pills at a time and her milk. It took a while since there were about twenty regular morning vitamins and meds. "Now how much prednisone do you need to take?"

"Give me 10 mg for now. And, would you draw up 1000 mcg of the B12 that's in that tin, please?" The companion did as requested and injected the B12 into her boss' deltoid muscle. She didn't even flinch.

"You've had to do this often haven't you."

"Oh yeah. Too often."

"Why did this happen? What caused it?"

"I've been feeling really good so I've been doing more. Yesterday I went way over my limit in activity tolerance. I was on my feet for most of 12 hours, then I had sex, several times, which requires an amazing amount of energy and taps the bodily fluids. Then, getting upset does a real number on me. Add in the pretty good bet that I came in contact with a child who has a cold or pink eye and my immune system went bat shit and attacked." Josie stopped to catch her breath and closed her eyes to rest. Sandra went into the kitchen to fetch the ice cream as requested.

"Here ya go. Sugar free, huh? Any good?" Sandra noticed how badly the little blond's hands were shaking while trying to scoop some of the treat from the bowl. "Here, let me do that." The companion fed small bites of the frozen treat into her employer's mouth. Causing a small grin to crease her lips.

"Mmmmm." Josie purred.

"So, if you have an immune system to attack, then you don't have AIDS." Sandy said.

"AIDS? No I don't have AIDS. I have a form of CFS, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, alias Chronic Epstein Barr. It's like having Mononucleosis one too many times and it decides to live in. Though I've had it for at least ten years now, it didn't get debilitating till about a year ago when I had to have some surgery. It became acute and caused me to quit working so I wouldn't permanently damage my liver and kidneys. Not everyone gets such an acute case. I'm one of the unlucky few. It's probably because I have diabetes too and it adds just so much more stress on my little body. Now that it is active again, my blood sugar is probably going banana's. I'll need you to check that for me now. My case is in that tin, also." Josie pointed to the small leather container inside the antique tin.

"I've done that for several patients already so I do know how." Sandy said as she opened the kit and set up her cotton, alcohol swipe, stick gun, test strips and accu-check machine. "Ok, I'm ready when you are." The nursing student took the finger offered her and proceeded to check the blood sugar.

"Josie, it's 350mg/dl. That's really high. Should I get you to a hospital?" Sandra looked at her patient with concern.

"No. It will be Ok. Give me 12 units of regular insulin. That along with my glucophage will keep me under control for now. I'll start taking 70/30 tonight. That covers me really well during these episodes. I'll have to check it three times a day to make certain I don't peak. I'll need you today and tomorrow to be close by. After that I should be able to monitor myself. Right now my head's too damned fuzzy to make sure I'm not giving myself the wrong dosages."

"But you are SURE you need 12 units, right?" Sandra asked reticent to trust her friends judgement under the circumstances.

"Yeah, I'm sure. What I meant was I can't focus my eyes well enough to gauge the dosage in the syringe." Josie pat her friends hand and smiled reassuringly.

Sandra gave her boss her insulin injection, then assisted her to the bathroom to brush her teeth. After helping Josie peel off the sweat soaked clothes and wash up a bit, the companion tucked her into bed in a fresh pair of PJ's. "You get some sleep. I'll walk the dogs and feed them. Ok?" She asked as she walked around the room, shutting off lights and closing the blinds so her boss could get some much needed rest.

"Ok. Thank you Sandy. We'll talk later, deal?"

"Deal."

Josie tried to keep her eyes open, but to know avail. Before Sandra could close her bedroom door she was soundly asleep.

***

"Come along, children, your "Auntie Sandy" is taking you out this morning. You'd better put your Rebock's on, cause I'm not your mom. I run." Sandra jogged out of the door and onto the walking track that Josie had created with her riding mower and a grating attachment. It wended through over twenty acres of land that she chose to share with her little canine family and one tall, beautiful nursing student.

***

Sandra had taken over the dining room table with all her books and notes for class so she could keep an eye on her patient and still get her school work done.

It had been three hours since Sandra had put her boss to bed and she was beginning to worry about her. As quietly as she could she opened up the bedroom door and peered in to find her charge still asleep with no visible signs of distress. 'She looks so small and helpless lying there. I've never wanted to protect someone so much in my life. What's going on with me?'

Sandra sat in the bedroom chair and was instantly joined by two equally distraught little fur balls, both perched on her knees staring over at their sleeping mistress. 'She's gonna be Ok , fellas. I promise. I'm gonna take good care of her.' That's when the decision was made to move her things into the guest room/exercise room and purchase a noise device so that Josie could get her attention when she needed her.

***

Sandra was busy cooking in the kitchen and reciting the names of all the bones of the human body, all 206 of them, when she was joined by her freshly scrubbed, clear eyed boss. "Hiya, I'm starving. What ya cooking there?"

"Oh, Jesus...! I didn't hear you walk up. How are you feeling? You look so much better. It's amazing." Sandra just kept letting her eyes rake over her patient's body in awe of her seeming recovery.

"It's the prednisone mostly and the B12, along with the myriad of other vitamins I take. The prednisone stops the inflammatory process and gives me a false sense of well being and energy. It makes me feel human again. I only take it during bad flare ups. I was able to take a bath and dress myself which I find very valuable in life. How's your studying going?" Josie asked as she plucked an artichoke heart from the salad Sandra was mixing.

"Great, I find I study really well at your table. I have no problem concentrating here at all." The tall beauty smiled.

"Good. I'm glad. When's dinner gonna be ready. I'm starved. Did I eat today? I can't remember." Josie looked slightly confused as she took a seat at the table.

"How much do you remember exactly?" Sandra went around the kitchen preparing a plate for her boss and herself to eat as she listened intently to her explanation.

"I remember you fed me ice cream." A contented smile creased her lips. "That was really sweet of you by the way. I remember you giving me my meds. My sugar was high and you gave me insulin. You washed me up and you helped me to bed. Thank you by the way for helping me get cleaned up. I am sure that was hard for you." Josie said as she stared at the grain in her table unable to make eye contact discussing something so personal.

"Not a problem. I've cleaned more than my share of bare behinds this past clinical. I don't get embarrassed anymore. I've never found flabby butts enticing." Sandra tried to lighten the mood with a little levity.

"So, then, mine was an improvement?" Josie gave her friend a lascivious grin.

The tall nursing student looked up and winked in retort.

"Do you remember how high your blood sugar was?" Sandra asked.

"No. I remember you took it, but none of the details. Short term memory loss is a problem with this disease and so is concentration." Josie stated matter-of-factly.

"You probably haven't eaten anything since supper yesterday, so let's eat." Sandra set their plates down and poured them both some Barq's.

***

"I want to talk to you about what happened last night and, please don't interrupt. I have limited stores of energy so I can only talk for so long before I peter out. Ok?" Josie stated as she arranged her food on the fork.

"Ok. But can't it wait till after you've eaten?" Her friend implored.

"No. I want to do it now and get it over with. Now don't argue with me." The older woman accentuated her point with her fork.

"Ok."

"I am a lesbian. In case you hadn't figured that one out yet. I was married, but for all the wrong reasons. He was in love with me but I didn't reciprocate. We had been friends for many years. He knew my history with women, but we were both willing to believe that I could change because I was so fond of him and I wanted children so desperately. It didn't work out. It's like being a heroin addict and just smoking pot. It will eventually bring you back to heroin because that's your drug of choice. When I started having sexual relations with my husband it left me feeling unfulfilled and brought me back to my first love.....women. We had as amicable a divorce as possible. But, it was still damned painful." Josie studied her companion's face looking for any signs of shock or disgust. Finding none, she continued.

"The woman you saw me with, Kathy, is a very old friend and occasional sexual partner. She is a very desirable woman. We thought we might fall in love once, but found we made far better friends than lovers. She knows about my health problems and hasn't let it negatively effect our relationship. We have a little roll in the hay once every few months when one of us gets a bit too randy or needy. There is no one else. Most women lose interest in someone who is sick all the time. They don't want to be a care taker or they resent the fact that I don't have to work to get the bills paid. Thank God I have enough income from my investments to pay the bills, at least, most of the time. I couldn't afford, however, to pay a companion, hence the apartment idea and an RN student. That would be you."

"I hope this won't effect our working relationship or our friendship. I also hope you will respect my privacy and keep my private life to yourself. I have to be very discreet living in a small town. I'd like to feel that I can trust you." The older woman looked tentatively at her employee and friend.

"You can depend on my discretion, Josie. What goes on in this house and in our lives goes no further. I've had a lot of experience keeping secrets. Believe me I have no problem with that, nor do I have a problem with your sexuality."

Sandra took a deep breath and looked at her friend for encouragement before continuing. "I have often wondered, myself, what it would be like to be with another woman. I have noticed in recent years that all my true friends have been women and I'd much rather spend my time with them than with any man I know. Maybe that's why my marriage failed. I just lost interest in him, especially sexually, to the point of being repulsed. That made me feel just awful. Then he began looking elsewhere for his satisfaction. Everyone felt badly for me because my husband was screwing around on me. But, it was my fault. I didn't want him anymore. In fact, I hadn't wanted him for a very long time. Ever since I got sober. I realized that I had to be drunk to make love to my own husband. I haven't made love at all since I divorced Jack Daniels along with Frank Abbott." Sandra took a shaky breath to settle her nerves. She hadn't spoken this openly about herself to anyone, ever. It felt really good, but scary.

"I'm so sorry, Sandy. How long have you been sober?" Josie reached over to touch her friend's forearm.

The companion searched her employer's eyes but found only compassion and understanding in them. "It's been over three years now."

"That's wonderful. You should feel very proud. It's quite an accomplishment. I'm so glad you told me. Thank you for trusting me and thank you for accepting me the way I really am. Now, why don't you go on home and get some rest. I'm just going to read until I fall asleep. If I need you I'll call you on the intercom." Josie began to get up from the table but was gently pushed back into her chair.

"Actually, boss, I moved myself into the guest room while you were sleeping. I'd feel much better if I was in close physical proximity of you for the next few days or until I am sure you are safe. If you need me I bought you a bicycle horn for you to summon me with." Sandy took the horn from the kitchen counter and handed it to her patient. "It's easy to use. Just squeeze the bulb and it makes quite a racket. See." Sandy squeezed the bulb and a loud "Ah...ooooo...gah" came out.

"Oh, my. Let's hope I don't need to use this too often. That's downright obnoxious." Both women giggled. "I am glad you'll be so close by for the time being, but please don't let it interfere with your school work. I haven't been putting you through all those drills for nothing you know. I feel like this is our degree and I intend to complete it. Deal?" She smiled.

"Deal. Now let me clean up and I'll get you your meds. I'll check your blood sugar just before supper." Sandra got busy in the kitchen as Josie curled up on the sofa with Scooby and Doo.

"You know, fellas. I am one lucky lady to have found that guardian angel in there. I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 2 OF THE APARTMENT

#xena #Xena Warrior Princess #Xena/Gabrielle #Xena/Gabrielle Fanfiction #fanfiction #xwp #mel/janice #mel/janice fanfiction #xena au

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drizzileiscool · 5 months

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keroro movie 1 review

6/10

it's a sgt frog movie, as advertised

short, spoiler free review: just another power of friendship type movie. i do not like the whole power of friendship trope

spoiler filled review:

subtitles and other stuff

i get that this isn't a fansub like the rest of the anime, but the subtitles give off netflix vibes. that's a bad thing. i would at least like to be able to read anything

mois's name was changed to moa, lavie is now rabi.

plot

keroro and fuyuki go buy a gundam model together, suddenly they find a weird shrine and it has a portal in it. keroro tries to make an offering of 100 yen but it falls through the portal so they go through and accidentally break some crystal that guards an ancient super weapon. for some reason everyone has x's on their faces and can do telepathy now. at first the telepathy is cool and everyone is doing it. there's even a koyunatsu scene where natsumi does the telepathy thing with koyuki and asks what she likes and koyuki responds with "natsumi". it's followed up with a natsugiro scene with the exact same thing and I don't like that because natsugiro makes me uncomfortable.

the next day the telepathy only starts working on negative thoughts so everyone is much less happy and more depressed. a new keronian called mirara comes in and explains the situation. the super weapon, now known as kilulu, will destroy earth because everyone's telepathy stuff gives off negative energy because they're depressed. mirara is all like "you're all doomed and also you can't save the world because humans and keronians can't live together because keronians are aliens so you can't get along" to which fuyuki responds with "actually me and sarge are besties so yes we can".

uhhh. more stuff happens that I can't be bothered to write, mirara tells them that she knows how to deal with kilulu, fuyuki and keroro's x's are gone and replaced with o's, mirara turns into a key, and a really long scene where they try to get mirara (now a key) into this large space ship thing to stop kilulu. saburo is here and has an important role for once instead of being a joke character that natsumi is in love with. natsumi uses her ultimate warrior super hero weapon outfit thing we saw several episodes ago in season 1 and then never again so it's cool that they brought it back.

another natsugiro scene that I hate happens but that's over quickly and we cut to fuyuki and keroro in the ship trying to get key mirara to the thing. we get a scene where they're all friendship and stuff and fuyuki's like "we're gonna buy gundam models. Together." they get the key into the thing and everything is done woohoo movie's over yippee the end. but their house is completely destroyed from everything so keroro's still in trouble. the end for real this time

art stuff

it's nearly identical to the original, but now in 1080p. that's cool I guess but it doesn't really.. fit.. if that makes sense. I mean I'll probably have to get used to it by the time the new keroro anime comes out but I don't wannaaaa.

final thoughts:

6/10

as stated before, I do not like the power of friendship trope. i get that it's a movie aimed at children and they can't have scenes that are too emotional but pokemon has ash fucking die in the first movie. and then he died again in another movie I think. why can't this movie kill off someone and bring them back. kill off dororo so the platoon realizes "oh shit, dororo exists. we kinda need him" and bring him back for a scene where everyone is crying over his death only to realize his death was faked. or something like that

this movie is exactly what you'd expect from a sgt frog movie.

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casspurrjoybell-33 · 7 months

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Wreckless - It's a Brick House

*Warning Adult Content*

Finnegan

The sidewalk isn't cracked, it's nicely done stone blocks and I was right, there's a nice two-car garage just on the other side of the driveway.

Do I wish it was attached? Maybe.

Is it a deal breaker? No.

Ann opens the double entryway doors with a flourish.

"Gleaming hardwoods throughout, a gorgeous chefs kitchen and a finished basement. Three large bedrooms and two and a half baths."

Yes, I can read.

"There's an attic just waiting to be finished. Laundry is currently upstairs but there are also hookups in the basement. It would be easy to put an extra bath down there if you'd like. A beautifully landscaped yard, almost half an acre, which in this area is unheard of."

I can't listen to her and think at the same time.

"Ann?"

"Yes?"

"I'd like to walk through it, just me and Emmett, please. It'll be much quicker and I know you have other things to do. The kitchen is through here?"

"Yes, of course, go ahead," she stutters as I walk through the dining room.

I want to see the kitchen first, I have no time for a kitchen remodel.

Oh, it's actually nice. Really nice.

Quartz countertops I'm guessing and the appliances look fairly new and high end.

It has a nice island and then there's a back door and I pass into a hallway that must be right behind the steps.

There's a room to my left that's lined with bookshelves on two walls.

"Library?"

Emmett peeks over my shoulder.

"Would be a great office, yeah."

He's right.

I hope they're not counting this as a bedroom but I don't want to assume.

I'll check.

It has windows overlooking the garden and it looks beautiful and like a lot of work.

I ignore it because I won't be dealing with it, that's what gardeners are for.

I continue down the hall and there's a lovely half bath, a closet and then we're on the right side of the house in the living room.

"Oh, a fireplace."

"This place is huge."

It's not huge.

"Looks bigger without furniture."

It's bigger than his place, for sure.

Big enough to grow into.

"Think we can fit a reclining couch, Finnegan?"

He's teasing, there's plenty of space but I humor him.

"Of course. Probably two."

We go upstairs and there are in fact three bedrooms including a really nice master with his and his closets and a big en suite bathroom.

"This closet is big enough to be Marten's room," he says and he's not wrong.

"He can have a bedroom, either one. The other can be for guests."

'Or a playroom. I could have a playroom like Rhys'.

"Who's gonna clean this huge house?"

That's Emmett, always practical.

"We'll hire someone. And a gardener too, unless you want to put in a pool. It looks pretty flat and there's already a privacy fence."

"No pool, can I go see the garden?"

"Right behind you."

We head downstairs and outside and he walks around almost in a daze.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's beautiful."

He sounds a bit sad or maybe it's more melancholy.

I walk up and put my arm around his waist.

"What are you thinking about?"

"My mom. I've thought about her more this year than the last couple put together but she had such a green thumb and we had a lovely yard. It was only like a quarter this size? Maybe not even that? She had rose bushes just like these and it's beautiful. She would have loved this."

"Maybe it's a sign."

"Maybe. Let's check out this finished basement. Mine's officially finished but it's not living space, you know? Might work for a gym though."

I know exactly what he means.

The door down here is locked so we have to go back through the kitchen and downstairs that way.

We were wrong, it's really finished.

Well, half of it.

The space under the kitchen and dining room is all mechanical stuff and storage but the right side is nice.

High ceilings.

Emmett is going around peeking and opening all the doors.

"Laundry. A lot more convenient to keep it upstairs."

"Yeah, definitely."

I just wonder if...

"Emmett? You don't have a dark room, do you?"

"A dark room? Only in my dreams. I don't use film. I would love to but I don't."

"Would this work? There aren't any windows and it even has a sink, and power. Is it big enough?"

"It would be perfect, actually. And what else down here? Gym could definitely work. Or a play room for you and your toys? We could split the room and do both or put one up in the extra bedroom or attic."

I shrug.

"Not sure but it's nice having options."

"It is. It's a lot of space."

"Do you like it, Emmett?"

"I do. I love brick and the garden is..."

Now it's his turn to shrug.

"Does the kitchen work for you?"

"Yep. You?"

He does most of the cooking.

I get a look.

"I'll manage. Let me look at the furnace, electrical and plumbing."

I have no idea exactly what he's looking for so I just follow him around.

The house definitely has all those things.

"You do realize that I don't care if something needs to be replaced, Emmett."

"I know. It seems like a nice house Finnegan but you need an inspection. It's empty, that probably means you'll be in quicker."

What's with all the 'you'?

I want to hear more 'we'.

"I hope so."

"It's a fairly busy street."

My smile falters a bit.

I'm not madly in love with the traffic.

"Yeah. True. But how much time do we spend in the front yard? It's quiet in here. Is the neighborhood okay?"

"Yeah, we'll be fine. I don't mind the street, easier to get to 695. I just wanted to make sure you didn't."

He sits down in the middle of the floor and I join him.

"It's just a lot, Finnegan. You leaving, coming back, the beach, the break-in, the wreck and car and now this. I feel like I'm dizzy."

"I get that. I'm a little dizzy too which is why I'm trying to get settled. Should we do it, Emmett? What do you think? Will you live here with me? It's gonna be our house, Emmett, not mine. Ours."

He sighs but he's smiling.

"How can I turn down an offer like that?"

I smile, jump up and do a little dance.

When Emmett stands up I grab him, give him a kiss and then run upstairs to find Ann.

"Okay. Offer time."

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thedamageofherdays · 3 years

Text

This week's (16-08-2021 - 22-08-2021) reading log is here. This week's reading log is super duper long and filled with lots of good things (my apologies for the long post, I really could not find a good spot to do a read more). I discovered some new favourites and re-read some old favourites and while I had an intense week personally at least the fics I read were absolutely phenomenal. I do recommend checking out the warnings as some fics are a bit heavier/angstier and you might wanna be prepared. Most of these fics are Stucky but there are a couple of other ships in between.

If you are looking for more fun and/or good things make sure to check out the @marveldisabilitycelebration as well to see all the awesome art, fics, meta, etcetera people created! And while I am mentioning events I am a mod for let me also just quickly mention that sign-ups for the @stuckygiftexchange are still open until the end of the month <3

Favourites are marked with a 🌻 Fics that are only available to AO3 users are marked with a 🔒 and Tumblr fics are marked with a 🍀

🌻 The Bends by dreamsinthewitchouse @dreamsinthewitchouse [Danbeau, side Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

Memory is not a house you can just walk back into after finding the key you thought you’d lost. It’s a thing you wade into and out of, rewriting it as it rewrites you.

It’s not without its rewards, either - recovering a memory about Maria and Monica, about her life, feels better than socking a thousand bad guys in the face, better than all the photon blasts in the world.

Then again, realising there’s still memories she can’t access, even after all this time, feels like drowning in space.

Not the one out there - the one inside her.

🌻 Sweet & Salty by musette22 @musette22 [Stucky, 3k words, Teen]

Idiots in love. That's it. That's the fic.

When life gives you lemons by moonythejedi394 @moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 34k words, Explicit] (11/15 chapters)

Or 13 Terrible Things to Do With Lemons Other Than Making Lemonade

Steve Rogers is a home health nurse. He works for an agency, which assigned him to the aging Winifred Barnes, the one and only Silent Era Hollywood darling. As her needs increased, she requested the agency assign Steve to her full-time. She could pay for it, so she got it. Steve then moved in with her, becoming her caregiver; he cooked, he cleaned, he managed her medications, he made sure she was comfortable.

Winifred's children treated him less than ideally. He was the help, after all. And then Steve had the audacity to go and turn out to be eldest son James Barnes's soulmate. No one saw that coming.

🍀 SamRhodey Tumblr Fic by ipoiledi [SamRhodey, ? words, Teen?]

“Wilson, this is Rhodey; Rhodey, Wilson,” Tony Stark says, and suddenly some six foot tall sexy guy is shoved right in front of Sam, and they both stumble a little, bumping into each other. This is a crowded party. “You guys have things in common, right?” Stark asks. “Uh, Army stuff. Talk about that. I hate wallflowers; stop wallflowering and talk to each other.”

Shorteralls by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 6k words, Explicit]

The first time Bucky ever saw Steve Rogers, he was struck by how Neanderthal-like his response was. It was immediately followed by a bout of mental scolding. The second time was just about the same. The third time, it was actually appropriate for Bucky to start a conversation with him, at which point he was determined to be the gentleman.

No such luck. Steve Rogers is, always has been and always will be, a relentless flirt. These days, Bucky's Neanderthal-ist feelings about Steve are consensual and highly appreciated. More so now that they're having a baby.

what the fuck are perfect places anyway by tigerlilycorinne [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

Steve clears his throat and stands. “Well, I should head in. I might want to begin packing.”

Bucky stills. “You won’t,” he says, trying to sound commanding. It only comes out uncertain. “Don’t.”

Steve shakes his head. “Maybe not tonight,” he says, and Bucky knows they’ll be discussing this again soon.

“Then stay. Play… play cards with me or something.”

Steve’s eyebrows jump up, his mouth tugging up in another of his bemused smiles that do things to Bucky’s insides, but he drops his hand from the doorway and steps back into Bucky’s room. Somehow, Bucky feels as if he’s won—not the war, just the battle.

Steve won’t stay forever. But he’ll stay for cards.

Steve and Bucky, on the run after Civil War (with a few alterations to canon), are laying low in Wakanda. But they can’t stay there forever.

🌻 honestly thought i’d be dead by now, but what you can trust is that i need your touch by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 105k words, Explicit]

Bucky is 37 years old; he’s unmarried, hasn’t had a Sub of his own, is definitely not ripped, comfortable at his job as an Advanced Practice RN at Brooklyn General ER, and just got his Five Years coin from AA.

Steve is 26 years old; he’s unmarried, his last and only Dom has Alzheimer's, he's worryingly muscular, uncomfortable in his job as the government’s poster Alpha for masculinity and strength, and worries more than he should about his BMI.

Unfortunately, Steve and Bucky meet initially in a not-cute moment. Bucky’s tired as shit thanks to the sudden alien invasion that shook New York and Steve is tired as shit because he hasn’t slept more than 20 minutes at a time in – well, since 1936, probably. Bucky’s Alpha instincts get irritated at the sudden presence of another "Alpha" into his territory and Steve’s suppressed submissive tendencies latch onto this grumpy bachelor Alpha and he only suppresses it further.

Bucky’s grumpiness and Steve’s duckling impressionism aside, both of them are a mess. But since both of them are a mess? Their messes seem to fit pretty well together.

Deep Sea Diving by Aida Ronan [Stucky, 5k words, Explicit]

Steve's wallowing in heat-related misery under a shade tree in Central Park when a man walks by in bright red booty shorts and a crop top. RIP Steve Rogers. It was nice knowing you.

honey, make this easy by steebadore [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

Bucky likes the way he looks. His silk button up with the tiny gold polka dots feels soft on his skin and is tailored perfectly; no pulling at his chest or belly. His hair falls in shiny dark waves and his skin is smooth and dewy. He looks expensive. He looks taken care of. He looks like Steve’s.

🌻 let's take it back to the start by howdoyousleep @howdoyousleep3 [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

How it all began.

This sleepwalking through my life. by barthelme [Stucky, 1k words, Explicit]

The internet is an interesting place and when Bucky came home (or, when he came to live with Steve), Steve did a lot of research. Apparently, it’s not safe to wake a sleepwalker. He assumes that waking a sleepwalker with traumatic dreams and PTSD is beyond just being frowned upon.

And he tells himself--has told himself--that this is safer for Bucky. That if he were to stop him and wake him up, that Bucky would be mortified to be slurping on his best friend’s cock. That all of the improvements he’s made would be lost, would be repressed, would be just--

They’d be back at square one.

So he lets Bucky do it.

🌻 the way i've been craving by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

"Lunch break at 12:30. My office. Hope you’re hungry…"

It’s the ellipsis that sends Bucky’s insides swimming warmly, his heart beating twice as fast against his ribs where he sits in class. Senator Rogers is concise, direct, to the point. Without an ellipsis this is lunch, this is a meeting. With it though?

This is a booty call.

nasty but classy by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 4k words, Explicit]

“No, you don’t have to know the purpose, that doesn’t matter. Nat showed me this challenge where couples drink a lot of wine and get drunk together but they can’t touch each other. And whoever touches the other first has to...has to give the other head.”

🌻 Put It on Repeat, It Stays the Same by giselleslash [Stucky, 20k words, Explicit]

Steve and Bucky have a one night stand that turns into a friends with benefits situation. A weekend snowed in at Bucky’s apartment brings to light how much that really doesn’t suit either one of them.

Greetings to the New Brunette by victoria_p (musesfool) [Stucky, 10k words, General]

"You said he should have a hobby. That it would help."

"I meant, like, knitting or coin collecting. Motocross, if he was feeling antsy. A baby's not a hobby. It's lifetime commitment."

🌻 Rogers & Barnes: Partners by triedunture [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

Steve and Bucky have to pose as a couple for a mission. Nat insists it really is the only option. She's checked.

The complication: unbeknownst to even Natasha, Steve and Bucky's friendship has been rocky ever since Bucky confessed his tender feelings and Steve left him out in the cold. Can asexual, completely-in-love-with-his-angry-best-friend Steve complete the mission and win Bucky's heart?

(The answer is yes. Yay!)

this will be our year (took a long time to come) by biblionerd07 [Stucky, 4k words, General]

Bucky's therapist is worried he's using Steve as a crutch and wants him to try going on outings without Steve. It wouldn't be terrible, honestly, if Bucky could just manage to open his mouth and say something to Steve.

I'll hold my breath by Little_Lottie (tfwatson) [Stucky, 8k words, Mature]

Sometimes Bucky’s hands flex in Steve's direction. Neither of them knows exactly why, but at least one of them has a hunch.

Bucky touches everything but Steve, even though Steve is all he really wants to touch.

Start from the Beginning by Mumble_Bee [Stucky, 13k words, Explicit]

What about a sex pollen fic where the pollen-ed one doesn’t remember getting hit in the face with a sex flower, and wakes up midway through the depollenating?

Or: the one where Steve wakes up on his back with a stranger buried balls-deep in his ass.

Match by emphasisonem [Stucky, 4k words, Mature]

The situation’s actually kind of funny from the right perspective, Bucky thinks as he reads the message for what feels like the hundredth time. He’s finally matched with a hot, funny guy. Tall and broad and clean cut. An absolutely breathtaking smile. Bucky’s walking wet dream. And he’s good. They haven’t messaged on the app, but Bucky already knows him.

He knows him because Steve Rogers is an art history professor at his university. His art history professor.

Best friends and married since childhood by StuckySituation [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Inspired by @/peterssquill's post in tumblr: "bucky and steve got married on the playground when they were like eight and though neither of them would ever admit it to anyone, even each other, they still consider it official"

~♥~ ♥~ ♥~

“Natasha, stop trying to set me up with every woman you meet, I’m-”

“Too shy? Too scared?”

“No, I’m-”

“Too busy? You’re mostly retired these days, not a good excuse anymore.” Natasha smirks and then drawls: “Or just too gay?”

Steve flushes at that, even if isn’t true -- he’s bisexual, not gay. “Let it go, Nat, I’m not looking for anything. I’m already married, for fuck’s sake.”

Clearly not what she expected. “What.”

Steve grimaces. He didn’t mean to tell anyone that, ever.

“Sorry, can’t talk about it right now!” he says and jumps out of the plane.

Nobody Should Be Alone on a Holiday by emphasisonem [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

“So, um-” Bucky begins speaking again, pulling Steve from his less-than-work-appropriate thoughts. The brunet has shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks, and he’s shifting from one foot to the other as he smiles shyly. “I have a question for you.”

“Shoot,” Steve grins, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his broad chest. Bucky swallows deeply as one of his hands comes up to pull at the collar of his button-up, and Steve can’t help following the motion of his Adam’s apple.

“I was, uh-” Bucky continues- “That is, I heard you don’t have Thanksgiving plans?”

In which Bucky finds out that Steve's going to be alone on Thanksgiving and invites his coworker to spend the holiday with him.

🌻 It's Been A Long Season Through by thiccbuckybarnes @thiccbuckybarnesfic [Stucky, 49k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes is in desperate need of a change in scenery, which is why he makes the foolhardy decision to quit his job, leave his asshole of a fiance, pack up his life, and move to his grandfather’s old farm all within a single day.

He expects confusion, hardship, and maybe even failure. But love? He wasn’t expecting that.

Or, a Stucky Stardew Valley AU that nobody but me wanted and that’s ok.

oh, peach pit, where'd the hours go? by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 10k words, Explicit]

Can't see the forest for the trees.

Or, Steve learns that just because he and Bucky got their happily ever after, it doesn’t mean the past won’t come back to bite them.

I'll find my way by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 725 words, Teen]

Steve had watched Bucky fall, and nothing had been the same since.

AU-gust day 19: Daemons

special delivery by glim @glim [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

It's not that Steve's bad at taking care of himself when he gets sick; he just wishes he didn't have to all the time.

At least he can order most of what he needs online. That's some small comfort, that he can have soup and ice cream and everything else brought to his door.

at first chance i'd take the bed warmed by the body by spacebuck @spacebuck [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

This close, Steve can see exactly how beautiful his hands are. He’s never really noticed before, or at least he’s never really had a reason to notice, but the man’s hands are large, tanned like he works outside all day. There’s an endearing callus on the heel of one of his palms, and Steve can’t quite work out when calluses became endearing.

Steve pauses the video. Swallows hard. Casts his eyes around for anything that’ll keep his mind off the hands on his screen, off the words inked into those hands, the delicate shape of a bird’s wing, the curling edge of a vine.

He looks down. The name of the channel is right there, blaring the man’s name right into Steve’s brain until it feels like he’s known it all along.

Bucky Barnes.

OR: the one where Bucky's a youtuber who solves puzzles on camera, and steve's smitten and horny

🌻 Rock On! by millesable @marvelousescapism [Clintasha, 700 words, General]

“Hey, Romanoff!”

He lifted his hand, index finger and pinky finger raised, thumb out, all other fingers tucked. Their secret sign; their confession for the world to see, safe in the knowledge that the world wasn’t listening.

“Rock on!”

🌻 You Like the Way I Look by dontcallmebree @iamthe-wo-manwhocan [Stucky, 2k words, Explicit]

Bucky sidles up to him, hand boldly coming to rest on his chest. “What about you, big guy? Care for a dance?” Steve watches Bucky’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction, somehow already knowing he’s got Steve on the hook.

A decade out of the ice, Steve Rogers returns to New York. Reeling from a battle against the Chitauri, a night with the troublesome Bucky Barnes might be just what he needs.

Join the Rebellion by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 765 words, Teen]

Bucky knew he shouldn't be out after curfew, but he couldn't resist the urge. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew it was where he wanted to be.

AU-gust day 20: Dystopia

🔒 Five Days in December by mywingsareonwheels @mywingsareonwheels [Evanstan, 4k words, Teen]

“Shit shit shit shit...” muttered Chris to himself, glad that the sound of piped Christmas carols was drowning out his swearing amid the picture books. Most of the store was heaving even though it was Sunday, he’d been recognised at least three times, finding presents for all of his nieces and nephews was proving far more of a headache than expected, and he’d just sent a pile of copies of "Strictly No Elephants" tumbling off the bookshelf.

He scrambled about trying to pick them all up, and then dropped them again as someone bumped right into his backside. He lost his balance, caught himself against a bookcase, and a landslide of "Carter Is a Painter’s Cat" joined "Strictly No Elephants" on the floor. He yelped.

“Ah fuck, I’m so sorry… Chris!”

* * * * * * * * * *

London, December 2021. Amid cats, books, and the cold English drizzle, Chris finds everything he was hoping for and thought he would never have.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Reaching for Fire by dixons_mama @dixons-mama [Stucky, 7k words, Explicit]

Bucky has always felt a fire in his heart (and other body parts) when it came to his boss, Steve Rogers, but he's made sure to never feed those flames. When he finds out about Steve's second job, though, he's tempted to let that fire out.

i've been dreaming of a face like yours by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

Bucky is about to busy himself with making a small dinner for himself when he stops in his tracks at the figure drinking a cup of coffee in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and smirking at him.

It’s Steve.

“Surprise, sweet boy,” he says before setting his cup down.

Or, PWP reunion sex

🌻 Somewhere, Under Your Skin by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 16k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes treats himself to a one-night stand after having a very bad no good day.

The sex is good--great, even. Might be the best sex of his life.

But Bucky wouldn’t have slept with the guy if he had known that he was going to continuously run into him every day for the next fucking month.

Or, a Big Grump Bucky has a hot one night stand with a college kid who is popping up everywhere in his everyday life and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

(Written for HYBB Bingo Square: Grumpy Bucky)

i've played heartstrings before but not in your key by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 11k words, Explicit]

He glances down, seeing a folded couple of papers, before peering up at Bucky. The older man is biting his bottom lip, making it pretty and red. Steve wants to run his tongue across where his teeth are digging into his flesh.

"What's this?" Steve asks, setting his phone down, emails forgotten. Bucky shrugs and looks away.

"I dunno. You tell me, genius," he says, sounding bratty enough that it makes Steve's dick twitch in his pants. Jesus, there has to be something wrong with him.

Steve glances once more at Bucky, who now has his arms crossed against his chest and is pointedly not looking at Steve, before picking up the stack of folded papers. He opens them, seeing a collection of maybe five or six sheets of paper. His eyes immediately land on the list of familiar words with negative next to each one. -- Or, Steve Rogers is a jealous, possessive little shit that wants nothing more than to mark up his boyfriend and stake his claim. And Bucky knows it. (And he likes it.)

🌻 I'm Home (With You) by BonkyBornes @padfoot-and-the-marauders [Stucky, 2k words, General]

In any other circumstance, the apartment would've been perfect. But it was today, and the fact that he was here meant he wasn’t out searching. He knew they hadn’t had any leads for weeks and he knew Natasha was right; all three of them were exhausted and a break would do them good. It just felt wrong to Steve that he was comfortable while Bucky was still out there—somewhere. Probably cold. Probably hungry.

The knock came again. Sighing, Steve unwrapped his hand from the dog tags and remembered how to move. Cold wind and snow greeted him when he opened the door. The solitary figure was walking down the steps, collar popped against the chill.

“Did you need something?” he called.

The person stopped. They were still. And then they turned. *

Or, the Christmas Steve deserved after Winter Soldier.

The portrait by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 915 words, General]

Steve Rogers has a Gift. He can help people find their soulmates, all he needs is some art supplies, a quiet place, and eye contact.

AU-gust day 21: soulmates

Maybe A Muse by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 2k words, Mature]

When Bucky Barnes needs extra money, he’s appalled that his best friends think he should become a model for the art department on campus. Shy, nerdy, and socially awkward, he’s not sure that’s something he feels comfortable doing. Still, he needs money, and he likes the idea of becoming someone’s muse. The problem is he had no idea two things would happen. First, one of the students in the class is exactly his type; second, he has to model nude.

#my reading log #r's reading log #fic rec #stucky fic rec #fics recs #stucky #danbeau #samrhodey #longpost #long post #clintasha #evanstan

164 notes · View notes

ca-8 · 3 years

Text

Yakko x Reader Scenario: When You First Meet

'This is it. The beginning of the end.'

Gripping on the straps of her backpack, (Y/n) exited the bus and stared up at the water tower that displayed the famous Warner Bros. logo. As expected, it emitted a smug aura onto the entire area; however, surprisingly, there was a slight twinge of mystery to it as well. But she didn't have time to ponder about it, so she only gave it an uneasy look and headed straight for the entrance.

Her heart stopped. She knew the place was going to be busy, but it was like an entire New York City packed in one section! So many writers, producers, actors, large men carrying heavy sets, every type of person working in film was scattered all over the place. It was like an ocean, with the people as marine life doing what they're designed to do, and (Y/n) being the puppy that was abandoned at sea.

The moment it all settled in, an involuntary realization invaded her thoughts. 'I don't belong here.'

The young girl reminded herself to breathe and rushed over to a vacant wall, then pulled out her phone. She had already sent her mother about a thousand messages telling her she was here, but since she hasn't responded, a few more shouldn't hurt. Fingers rapidly typing away, she bit her lower lip, already wishing she had stayed on that bus.

"Oh, you're just gonna love it!" Her mother's squealing voice had already filled her skull. "You're so talented, I know you're gonna fit right in."

'Yeah, standing around all day with a bunch of people I don't know while doing something I suck at is exactly how I wanna spend my summer.' She let out a soft sigh. 'It's fine. Just shut up and make her happy, (Y/n).'

Several attempts of calling and texting later, no response. (Y/n) sighed again, and her eyes wandered over to the bustling crowd. 'No way. Absolutely no way.' But if she wanted to get the day over with, absolutely yes way.

First, she walked up to a lady looking down at the clipboard in her hands. "Um, excuse me," (Y/n) said.

The lady's head snatched up. "KYLE!" she yelled, her eyes now ablaze with fury, "YOU IDIOT! THAT GOES IN THE WAREHOUSE ACROSS THE STUDIO!" And like there was nothing but a breeze behind her, the lady stomped off to the poor soul that had to face her wrath.

The breeze took a step back and ran around the corner. 'Maybe I'll find someone else instead…!' (Y/n) stopped and spotted a man sitting on the steps that lead to the entrance of a small building. She swallowed whatever was left in her mouth and reluctantly approached him.

"E-Excuse me, sir?" she stuttered, hoping her voice was louder than the last time. As she got closer, (Y/n) noticed he was chuckling, and his gaze was glued onto a small piece of paper.

"I...I did it…!" he said. She yelped and shrinked back when he suddenly jumped to his feet. "I FINALLY DID IT! WE'LL SEE WHO'S REGRETTING THE DIVORCE NOW, MARGARET!" And with a manic laugh, the man dashed into the building.

'...Or maybe I'll just find it myself.'

It wasn't too long before (Y/n) got herself lost. Despite the help of maps that were stuck to some of the buildings, all of them seemed exactly the same. It was like a maze, and with each passing minute, she was more and more convinced that there was no finish line. Even worse, her mother was too busy to respond to anything she sent her.

'Oh, what should I do?' (Y/n) thought for the thousandth time. No matter how hard she pinched or held them, her arms refused to stop trembling. Not too long ago, the outside of the studio became deserted and she'd hate to walk in a warehouse and possibly interrupt something important, so asking for help again was out of the question.

...Or, perhaps it wasn't.

A tiny, hopeful smile crossed (Y/n)'s face when she heard the sounds of frustrated grunts around the corner. It was the first time she was so relieved to see a stranger.

And thank god that stranger was a security guard. Though she wondered why he had a giant net in his hand, she shoved the curiosity as far in the back of her mind as she could and reached up to gently tap his shoulder.

"Um, excuse me sir?" she asked as loud as she could.

His head whipped around, revealing angry eyes and a scowl that said he was ready to kill. But right as his gaze landed on her, it changed within an instant.

"Oh, hello!" he said with a bright smile.

(Y/n) blinked, cocking her head. ‘What was this guy up to?’

"I'm sorry to bother you, but do you know where (M/n) (L/n) is filming? I'm her daughter, (Y/n), and I'm trying to look for her. She's not answering her phone either."

His joyful expression slowly melted into a confused one. "Uuhhh…(M/n) (L/n)?”

“Yes. She’s a part of Animal Kingdom? Do you know where that’s being filmed?”

“Oh! I know there’s a zoo around here called Animal Kingdom! I don’t think you’ll find it in a film studio, though.”

(Y/n) frowned. “...No, I mean the show. Aren’t they filming in a warehouse today? Do you know where that is?”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

Her eye twitched, and she was just about ready to drown the entire studio in the nearest ocean. “N-Nevermind, I’ll just-”

As if the universe wasn’t satisfied with tormenting her enough, the security guard suddenly launched up into the air and flew into the sky. Right before her eyes, the heavens were coated with explosives of every color that ever existed.

“Oh my god!” (Y/n) yelled. ‘Who strapped fireworks on that guy?!’

“Oh, I knew you’d love it!”

Her eyes were ripped from the loud fireworks show as she was immediately smothered in a hug. “It’s so nice that another girl’s here! All the other ones here are either too busy or just keep shouting about a restraining order for some reason. I dunno, but anyway, I just know you're gonna love it here! Anyway, my name’s Princess Angelina Louisa Cantessa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the third! But since we're friends now, you can just call me Dot.”

This confirmed it. This was a trap set up by her mother to deliberately drive her insane, because how else can someone explain the nut jobs and talking dogs in pink dresses?

A combination of those two things happened to be clutching her head and digging her face into hers. “...Huh?” (Y/n) mumbled.

‘Dot’ jumped off of her and smiled widely. “Sorry about Ralph by the way. I figured out you were coming at the last second and I really needed someone for your welcoming gift.” she said.

(Y/n) glanced up at the sky where the fireworks were slowly dying down. “Um...Is he gonna be okay?” she asked.

“Of course he will!” her backpack said.

The teen screamed and threw her bag on the ground. A hand popped out and unzipped it with impossible ease, then a taller boy version of Dot jumped out, pulling up his long brown pants and flashing a grin.

“H-...H-H-How did you…?!” (Y/n) stuttered, pointing at him.

“What? Never heard of cartoon logic?” he said, approaching her. “And Ralph’ll be fine. His skull’s so thick, concrete’s the last thing that can kill him.”

“What-?”

“Anyhow,” he walked over to Dot and put an arm over her shoulder, “The name’s Yakko, this here’s my beloved baby sister Dot, and this is-” He stopped, staring at the empty space to his left. He leaned into Dot, whispering, “Say, uh, you don't mind looking for Wakko, do ya sis?”

Dot glanced at (Y/n) for an uncomfortable moment and suddenly shot her brother a glare. "I've got eyes all over this studio, Yakko," she warned, slowly stepping away.

Now (Y/n) certainly knew she didn't see pairs of eyes appear around every inch of her sight. 'Oh god, I didn't breath in drugs on the way here, did I? Actually, that would explain whatever the heck's going on.'

Yakko smiled as he watched his sister leave and turned to (Y/n). He walked closer to her, and she realized that his half-lidded eyes had a strange glint in them. “Sooo, your name’s (Y/n), right? A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

(Y/n)’s face heated up. ‘First I get lost, then see a guy get blown up, and now some other guy’s flirting with me? ...To be honest, this is still better than what Mom had planned for today.’

“So what brings ya’ here?” he asked.

“O-Oh, well, my Mom was supposed to give me a tour of the studio, but I’ve been giving that to myself all day. I tried finding her, but I’m pretty sure I’m nowhere near it by now.” Her eyes wandered over to the ground, but a realization made them perk back up and over to Yakko. “Hey, do you happen to know this place by any chance?”

“Know it? Please, my sibs and I live here, we know this place by heart and soul!” He mumbled something else, along the lines of “Basically made our hearts and souls”.

Her heart jumped; finally, a piece of good news. “Really?” she said, a smile spreading across her face.

He nodded. “So where do ya’ need to go?” Before she could answer, he pulled out a piece of folded paper and moved in so close, their shoulders were smooshed together. Yakko unfolded it, and it turned out to be the biggest map (Y/n) has ever seen. “Well, from here, you’re gonna need to take a right and continue straight until you get to the Harry Potter and Fantastic Beasts exhibit. But be careful, I heard some of them escaped, and if anyone asks if you’ve seen any of them, don’t tell them I gave one to Dot as a late birthday gift. Anyway, you take a left from there, then a right where you’ll see the lot where they used to shoot Game of Thrones. Now this is only a rumour I’ve heard, but I think some of the producers are still on that set. If you happen to see them, do not, I repeat, DO NOT mention season eight, or maybe just don’t mention the show at all. Actually, don’t even look at them. As a matter of fact, you probably shouldn’t even go there at all, just keep heading straight until you get to the D.C. Universe lot. Then you just take left there, then a sharp right over over, then you keep going straight until you get to here, turn up over there, turn right there, and then you’re there. Did ya’ follow all that?”

(Y/n) stared at his face, which was practically radiating with enthusiasm, and she felt her eye twitch again. “...No,” she said, shaking her head.

His smile dimmed, but it became just as bright as the sun again a split-second later. “Ah well, maps are gettin' old anyways,” he said, throwing the map over his shoulder. “WAKKO!!”

And, low and behold, another anthropomorphic dog popped out of nowhere, and (Y/n) was starting to question if there was an army of them hidden somewhere. But she had to admit, it was pretty cute how this one was dressed in an oversized blue sweater and red hat.

“Tablet, please,” Yakko said politely, holding out his hand.

‘You're not gonna walk me there-?'

Wakko suddenly held his head back with his cheeks puffed out, then leaned into Yakko’s hand as he forced out a small object from his mouth. After an incredibly uneasy moment, a tablet glazed in spit was in Yakko's grasp. While he praised the little guy, (Y/n) forced back the urge to vomit.

“E-Ehhhh…?” She couldn’t say anything else while her gaze frantically went back and forth from Wakko and the regurgitated tablet.

“Oh! Where are my manners?” Yakko said. “(Y/n), this is my dear little brother, Wakko. Wakko, this here’s our new special friend, (Y/n).”

“Hello!” Wakko greeted, who was suddenly in her arms. “You’re really pretty!”

“Ehh? Thank you? I guess??” she said apprehensively, and finally managed to make eye contact. Despite his...quirks, he's actually a little adorable... She let herself grin a little.

The moment of semi-peace was ruined when she took notice of Yakko’s narrowed eyes. “ALrighty, (Y/n)!” he said loudly, grabbing his little brother by the collar and gently setting him on the ground. “Animal Kingdom, right? Let’s get ya’ right over there.” He moved right beside her and taped the screen a couple times.

“Um, what’re you doing exactly?” she asked.

“Doing what every person does to get somewhere nowadays.” He grabbed her waist and pulled her against him, and (Y/n) flinched from his touch. “Please keep your arms, legs, and personal items inside the tablet at all times.”

Just when she was about to question him for the hundredth time, he pressed the screen again, and her vision became nothing but white. Her body felt like it was launched into a tornado; a strong force of wind thrusted her back, and somehow, the boy’s arm kept her from flying off from his side. A second later, her feet were back on the ground, the sky was where it needed to be, and reality was back in place.

Except for (Y/n)’s mentality.

She stumbled around, trying to find her balance as the world unbearably whirled around her. Finally, she shook her head, and quickly turned back towards Yakko, whose face tried to tell her whatever happened was perfectly fine and normal.

“What was THAT?” she yelled, staggering towards him and gripping his shoulders.

And he still had the audacity to have that 'why-are-you-freaking-out-so-much-we-do-this-every-Friday' smile. “Thank you for attending Warner’s Travel Tours! I would say my Agent Ralph’ll take your bags, but I left him alone with my sibs, so he’s probably in the middle of the Pacific Ocean by now.”

(Y/n) could only stare at him. Her mind was twisting and turning, trying so hard to make any sense of what happened but only making her headache grow larger and larger. And then, her thoughts just went blank.

She smirked. Then giggled. And a few seconds later, she had burst out laughing whilst holding her stomach. (Y/n) looked back up at Yakko, wiping a tear from her eye. “Th-Thank you…” she said, catching her breath.

His smile had grown and she thought his white cheeks were red for a moment. Yakko had opened his mouth, but whatever he was about to say was cut off by a net suddenly covering his entire body. Ralph was behind him, his skin and clothes burnt and ears practically smoking. “You’re coming with me, Warner!” he said.

And yet, Yakko only grinned. Like physics was his enemy, he disappeared from inside the net and appeared sprouting from the security guard’s back, cheerfully waving at (Y/n). “I’ll see ya’ around, yeah?” he said, then ran around the corner with Ralph sprinting right after him.

(Y/n) giggled and reached for the straps around her back. But when she only felt the (f/c) fabric of her shirt, her smile dropped, and a deep sigh escaped her lips. “Great…” she whispered.

“(Y/N)!”

She gasped as a pair of arms squeezed the life out of her. Her mother spun her around to face her gleaming smile, which was immediately replaced by an apologetic frown. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get your texts! That scene took forever, but I’m glad you found your way here! You’re so smart! Anyway, I know we don’t get as much time now, but there’s still so much we’ll be able to see!...”

She rambled on and on and on and on. Her daughter’s shoulders slumped and she followed her to where she wanted her to go, but the frown on her face didn’t last long when she remembered the fun she had just a few seconds ago. ‘Maybe this summer won’t be that bad.’

#is this how you write him lmao #i love this boi so much #animaniacs #cartoons #x reader #fanfiction #the reader in this is like 15 dont worry lol #im bored #yakko warner

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dragon-kazansky · 3 years

Text

Made with love | Helmut Zemo

Chef Zemo AU! 👨‍🍳

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

Part 8

Helmut Zemo was waiting outside of the airport with his car. He parked as close as he could to the doors, right where you should be able to see him when you came out.

It had been a month. You had gone back home to sort out your affairs, with the help of your darling friend Wanda Maximoff, and had done everything you needed to. Things you had sent over were now tucked away safely at home.

Your home. The one you would now share with him.

He checked his watch for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes. He had closed up the restaurant today, wanting to spend it all with you. He just wanted you back in his arms.

Every time the doors opened he would wat h the crowds with Ken eyes, waiting. Yet, you hadn't come out. He sighed as he waits.

Both you and Wanda assured him you would arrive in time. You were even bringing another friend to stay a while.

Over the last month you had been constantly messaging and calling one another. Mostly about all these plans you had cor the restaurant, but also about the two of you.

Helmut promised that once you had moved in, he would spoil you. He was going to make you so very happy.

The doors opened again. His eyes focused on the crowd. His heart began to race and his lips curled into a smile.

There you were. Just as beautiful as he remembered.

Your eyes found his. Friends instantly forgotten, you run toward him. Helmut pushes off his car, opens his arms wide, and meets you about halfway. You collide into him. His arms are instantly wrapped around you and his lips claim yours.

Wanda and Natasha stand by, watching you.

Natasha had heard lots about this Helmut Zemo. Though Wanda was your best friend, Natasha was a special friend too. She was protective over you and wanted to meet the man who had stolen your heart.

Wanda coughs loudly.

You pull away from Zemo, but kept your arms around him, turning to look at your friends with a sheepish smile.

Helmut wasn't even looking at your friends. He could see only you.

"This is Natasha, my other friend. I've told her all about you," you say, looking at him.

"It's nice to meet you," he says, glancing at her. She nods.

"Likewise."

His eyes turns back to you and he has that goofy smile on his face again. He unlocks the car and let's you all in, obviously with you sitting upfront with him.

"Any news on Stark?" You ask, once the car sets off.

"He is doing well. His restaurant is a success."

"And Escorpión Morado?"

"Still open."

You don't like the look on his face or the tone of his voice.

"Helmut?"

He glances at you.

"Stark is stealing my customers. Business is declining and I don't think we have much time before it's out of control."

You look at him, lips tugging into a frown.

"Good thing I'm here then."

He glances at you again, his own lips curling into a smile.

"Yes. It is."

He drives you to the apartment, the girls follow you both up to where Zemo lives and you all enter the main living space.

"My new home."

Helmut comes up behind you and snakes his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. He kisses your cheek and then rests his head in your shoudler.

"Our home."

Wanda taps Natasha on the shoulder and they make their leave, going to stay at the hotel. Once the door closes behind them, Helmut turns you around and kisses you again.

"Welcome home."

You smile softly.

"Thank you."

You were a Sokovian citizen now. It was a lot more straightforward than you had thought.

You're very happy to be here.

"So, the restaurant. I take it it's not open today."

"No. I let Sam and James have the day off so I could meet you and bring you home. Your things are in your room."

"Thank you, but still, are you prepared to go through with this?" You ask.

"Yes. Help me save my restaurant. I need you."

You smile.

"I know you do."

You take both of his hands in yours and hold them, squeezing them lightly.

He smiles handsomely at you. He's never felt so lucky in his life before.

"Where do you want to get started?" You ask.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Well, obviously the menu is important, but what if we start planning the new look for your restaurant. Let's show Stark that with have both good taste in food and interior design. I was doing some shopping and found a fee things. Want to check them out?"

He nods. You ask him to take a seat while you fetch your laptop. You open it on the table in front of you, as you sit next to him.

You're sitting nice and close. His arm settled right next to yours. His knee nudges yours lightly as he rests his elbows on his open lap.

You open up all the tabs you had saved.

"You really have been doing your research," he chuckles.

"I have. New furniture, new floors, new decor and lights. You can pick everything, it is your restaurant. Remember, we're not replacing the restaurant, we are sprucing it up, giving it a new look."

He smiles softly as he looks at you.

"Well, take a look, Helmut."

He turns his eyes back to the laptop, wishing to look at you little longer. He scrolls theough the choices and you make notes on all the things he likes. You help him because what looks good with what, and before you know, you can almost see how it will look.

A couple hours later you get a message on your phone.

Wanda: Breaking in the mattress yet? ;)

You: OMG, WANDA, STOP!

Wanda: What have you been doing then?

You: Redesigning the restaurant. What about you and Nat?

Wanda: Drinks!

You roll your eyes and reply:

You: Not surprised. Have fun! See you later.

You put your phone down and ignore any incoming messages after that.

"Are you hungry?" Helmut asks, raising from the sofa.

"Yeah, actually."

He holds out his hand. You take it and let him pull you up and lead you into the kitchen. He only let's go of your hand to grab his apron and put it on. He then, very smoothly, moves around the kitchen grabbing ingredients.

"What are you making?"

"Schnitzel," he grins at you.

"Is there anything you can't cook?" You chuckle. It's very clear this man has done some globe trotting of his own.

"Many things, but I can also make many things too," he winks at you as he sets up a pan, ready for cooking.

You come to stand beside him. He presents two pieces of pork which he quickly works on pounding thinly. He sprinkles them with salt and pepper.

"Have you ever had schnitzel?"

"No. Which I should be ashamed of considering I have been to Germany."

"Then it will be my honour to give you your ever first!"

You chuckle softly.

He slides over to the empty space of his counter and puts down a bowl and two plates. One plate with flour and salt, the bowl with eggs which he let's you beat, and the final plate with breadcrumbs.

This man's own kitchen is stocked with everything he could need. As you look at him in his own kitchen, which you suppose you can also call your own now, you realise just how much he loves cooking.

"I'll do the first one, you can do the second one, alright?"

You nod.

You watch as he picks up the first piece of pork. He coats it in flour on both side, then into the egg on both sides, and then into the breadcrumbs. He shakes off any excess and pops it into the pan he prepared.

"You next."

You pick up the other piece and do exactly as he had done. Into the flour, into the egg, into the breadcrumbs. You shake off the excess like he had done and he steps back as you place it in the pan.

What you didn't expect was for him to cage you in. He lifts one of your hands to the pan and stands right behind you as you now both cook.

You can hear his soft breathing in your ear. The hand he has resting on your hip make your spine tingle. You're very much aware of how close he is to you.

His lips brush against your ear.

You shiver involuntarily.

He chuckles softly, his breath brushing the shell of your ear.

Before you can think too much about what he's doing, he promptly take the schnitzel out of the pan and onto a plate with paper towels on it. He leaves you rather quickly, going to pick up some leafy salad from fridge.

You take a deep breath and try to keep your composure. God, the way he makes you feel!

He returns and plates up the schnitzel, slicing a lemon and placing the slices on top of each one, serving with a bit of the salad.

He turns to you with a smile.

"Schnitzel."

You chuckle and take one of the plates. You both sit down and tuck in. Once again you're left blown away by this man's skill, but there was also the fact you helped.

Zemo makes a low moan after eating some of his.

"This is good."

"I should hope so, you made it."

He chuckles, looking at you.

"Actually you did. This is the one you prepared."

You look down at his plate. He had purposely taken the one you had done. You smile softly.

"You're eating my one?"

"Yes."

You bite your lip shyly. Once again he leaves you a shy blushing mess.

When you finished eating, Helmut cleaned up, though you did make a fuss about helping him. After losing that little argument, you headed to your room.

For a spare room it was big enough for you. You could fit in quite nicely here. You unpacked your cases and spent a bit of time planning on where this is would go or what you would need to buy. This was your space. You would make it your own.

A knock on the door had you sitting up on your bed. Your handsome chef enters the room and smiles at you.

"What do you think?" He asks.

"I like it."

Helmut sits down on the bed with you and pus you into his side. You cuddle against him, feeling content.

"I'll get to see you every day now."

You chuckle softly.

"Yes. Lucky bastard, aren't you?"

"I'd say so."

You kiss him softly. He places a hand on your cheek and looks at you with the softest gaze.

He almost wants to say it.

He doesn't.

Not yet.

You smile softly as you close your eyes and sit with him in the quiet room.

Today is the beginning of the next chapter of your lives.

@namethathasnotbeentaken @belle82devart @cathrin2405 @lieutenantn @wilder-fangirl @latenightartist-author @lucky-luck-lucky @hb8301 @charistory @thatoneartgalsstuff @thesuitkovian @malkaviangirl @zemosimp420 @realremyd @the-chaotic-cow @lostghostgirl94 @zafiro-draco @lazygurl05 @pinkcutiepiee @goddessofmischief03 @whovianayesha @myybebe @awesomesauce-abbie @that-stupid-head-tilt-thing @swooning-for-mc-avoy @nonamec0s @apparrio @scuttle-buttle @alex-the-nb @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @greeneyedblondie44

#helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo #marvel #au #chef zemo au

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y0itsbri · 3 years

Text

gallavich week 2021 - day 7 - meet ugly

thank you to @ianandmickeygallavich for the inspo // @gallavichthings

Prompt: Ian and Mickey are neighbors in an apartment complex. They haven’t ever interacted, but one day they get stuck the elevator. One of them doesn’t like confined spaces but doesn’t share this so the other one assumes he is freaking out for no reason.

Words: 3.5k

"I'm going out tonight, dickbreath!" Mandy announced, popping her head out of the bathroom. She was wearing a short sequined dress, fitted tightly to her body and only halfway zipped up so it slipped part way down her shoulders.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't!" Mickey called from his recliner in the living room with an Old Style in hand. Work has been absolutely kicking his ass this week and he wanted nothing more than a chill night in.

"Oh, c'mon, now that's no fun. You don't do anything," she accused.

"That's not true!" Mickey grumbled, remote in hand and flicking past some news channels onto some good shit -- finally. Rerun of Jurassic Park.

"What're your plans for the evening then, hot shot?" Mandy teased as she applied yet another layer of mascara on her already blackened eyelashes, "Dinosaur movies all night?"

"Might go to the corner store for some smokes."

"Please get something to eat while you're at it. We have like nothing in here." She waltzed to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door and grimaced. He could admit that a grocery run was, in fact, long overdue.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Serious, Mick." Mandy gave him the look. The Look being the same Look that his mother used to give him when he was being a little shit.

Fine. "Got it. I'll eat something." She smiled at that.

"Thank youuu," Mandy dragged the word out as she leaned over to kiss his forehead.

"Gross."

"Ditto. Zip me up?"

Mandy had headed out awhile ago -- long enough ago that Mickey was now halfway through his second 'dinosaur movie.' He should really visit his dinosaur guy again soon, he's probably got some cool new shit. Mickey sighed and got up, idling over to the kitchen.

He downed a full glass of water and opened the fridge. Yeah, unless he wanted to eat a pickle with ketchup and beer, he needed to go out. He debated ordering in, but he needed to go to the corner store anyways. Two birds one stone kind of situation.

Mickey threw on his favorite pair of sweatpants and his Davie Bowie tee shirt with the sleeves cut off. It was a good shirt. Mickey thought Bowie was hot -- fuckin' alien-looking, but hot, nonetheless.

Mickey shoved his wallet and phone in his pockets and locked up his apartment. Maybe Ernie would have the good roast beef sandwiches today.

His thoughts about dinner plans subsided as he noticed the guy waiting for the elevator.

Mickey had seen the ginger around. He was hard to miss -- fuckin' tall, always going out for runs early in the morning in short shorts and coming back all sweaty, always had a million fucking people coming and going from his apartment. They lived on opposite ends of the hall, but Mickey had never actually spoken to him before.

Mandy had given her brother lots of shit for acting so goddamn unapproachable and that's why he has no friends. Mickey didn't want to be friends with everyone, but he wouldn't mind spending some time with the hot red-head down the hall... eventually.

But he was waiting for the elevator with him right now. He couldn't bring himself to make eye contact in fear that it would lead to small talk which would then lead Mickey to inevitably embarrass himself. He couldn't blow his shot. Mandy did the small talk, not him. He took out his phone and scrolled through Instagram even though none of the photos were loading.

He hardly looked up when the elevator arrived and he stepped into it, leaving plenty of space between the two of them. Maybe it was an unreasonable amount of space, but it still wasn't enough for Mickey. He could still smell the guy's cologne. And it was infuriatingly attractive.

"Ground floor?" The man's voice practically sent heat down Mickey's spine. This was going to be a long ride.

"Uh, yeah." Nice, Mick. Not embarrassing at all.

"Great." It hung in the air, a tinge of awkwardness to it.

Out of the corner of his eye Mickey could see the the man leaning against the elevator wall, crossing his ankles as he not-so-subtly stared Mickey's direction.

Mickey was running out of things to check on the his phone and he was about to give in and finally make eye contact when he felt a shift. Then an ungodly clanging of metal. And a stop.

Fuck.

He glanced up at the dial. Sure enough they were stopped between floors, and not at all near the ground.

"The fuck?"

"What?" The red-head locked confused eyes with Mickey's.

"We're stopped. Why the fuck are we stopped?"

"Hm," The guy poked around at the open doors button and nothing happened. "I don't know."

All hopes of positive small talk was out the window as Mickey went into full panic mode. He did not like small, confined spaces -- which happened to be exactly what his current predicament entailed.

"You open the doors!" Mickey practically shrieked.

"Why me!?" The attractive guy spit back.

"You work out and shit -- do I look like I could pry those fuckers apart?"

"Well..." The red-head took a moment to size up Mickey's smaller form. "Yes, you do actually- but these doors are heavy as fuck. We don't have like super strength."

"Fuck you."

"Uh, fuck me!?"

"Yeah, fuck you. Not even tryin' and now we're both going to fuckin' die in here. Any last words, Red?"

He rolled his eyes. "We're not going to die. Don't you think you're being a little dramatic?"

"Don't you think you're being a little too calm considering we're stuck?"

"Oh. You're freaking out."

"No shit I'm freaking out, Sherlock." Mickey ran his hands down his face. This was not fucking happening to him right now.

"Hey, take deep breaths."

"Can't. Gonna die." Mickey gasped.

"Well, if you can't breathe, you're definitely going to pass out."

Mickey shot him panicked eyes.

"Hey, hey it's okay. Just look at me."

Mickey could do that.

"Copy me. In-" He inhaled, chest expanding.

"Out-" Mickey felt his breath on his face. In any circumstance, a stranger breathing on him would warrant a punch in the gut, but now it was more grounding than anything else. They repeated that motion a few times.

"Good. See, you can breath."

"What are you? A fuckin' doctor?" Mickey huffed a laugh in disbelief.

"Been to enough," he chuckled.

"Huh?"

"Never mind. But, uh- look, see, I'll hit the emergency button and someone will come get us soon. It'll be okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm positive. Got stuck in one of these with my sister when I was little, kinda scary at first but we were out in practically no time. She sang to me to pass the time, but I take it you don't want me to sing to you?"

That earned a full-bellied laugh from Mickey, "Not yet."

The man grinned goofily like a golden retriever.

They were silent for a moment.

"So, uh, what's your name?" The red-head asked, gazing curiously at Mickey.

Mickey just stared back at him.

"Your name?" He repeated gently.

"Mickey."

"Mickey," He said it so soft like a prayer. "I like it. I'm Ian."

He had no idea what he expected, but it wasn't Ian. Ian was fitting, though. Ian was good.

Ian had hit the emergency button a few times for good measure while Mickey had tried to call Mandy to no success. They settled onto the floor, leaning against opposite walls, feet nearly colliding in the center. Neither made a move to completely avoid that.

After Mickey had calmed down a bit, they fell into bouts of comfortable conversation and comfortable silence.

"I thought you just hated me." Ian mumbled after a bit.

"What I hate is being trapped here." Mickey stared at the walls threatening to enclose around them. He closed his eyes so he didn't start to panic again.

"Even before this."

"Oh?" That was news to Mickey. That was never his intent.

"Yeah, I always see you around, but you never seem to see me." Ian looked to the ground when he said it.

"I've seen ya plenty. You're the dork with the short ass shorts."

Ian smirked, "I guess I am."

"Hard to miss, man."

"You too. I've wanted to say hi for like months, but you always looked like you were ready to snap me in half or something. I kinda like my limbs in tact."

Mickey swiped his thumb against his nose and sniffed, embarrassed, "Sister says I scare everyone away. Used to be a good thing."

"Sister... wait, wait, wait, hold up. You're Mandy's brother, aren't you?"

"You know Mandy? Oh god, you're not banging her, are you?" That would throw a wrench in his plans.

"Oh god, no!" Ian threw his hands up in a mock surrender like that was the most repulsive thing he's ever heard.

"Something wrong with my sister?" Mickey grew defensive. She may be a lot to handle at times, but she was still his sister.

"No, no, she's great! 'm just not into... well, uh- I'm- let's just say that if you had a brother, maybe I'd be banging him." He grimaced.

Watching Ian stumble over his words after being so confident about everything else was a bit amusing.

"Oh -- cool." Mickey wasn't used to such obvious disclosures about sexuality with strangers.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Mickey avoided all eye contact.

"So?"

Ian paused until Mickey was able to look at him again.

"So, what?"

"Do you have any brothers?" A playful flicker in Ian's eyes made it obvious that he was just being a little shit now.

"You're an idiot."

"Maybe so, but that doesn't answer my question still."

"Yeah, I have brothers, but they'd uh- let's just say definitely not be into that."

"And you're... not not into that?"

Mickey rolled his eyes. His lack of denial was basically a confession and they both knew it.

Ian smirked and knocked the toes of their shoes together.

Help announced itself to be coming soon over the tiny intercom embedded in the elevator. Sometime shortly after that, Ian had made his way over to the wall next to Mickey's, rather than across.

"Where were you going tonight?" Ian asked, turning to fully face Mickey.

"Nowhere." Nowhere interesting at least.

"Really? So you just take an elevator down to nowhere?"

"Alright, smart ass, I needed to get dinner. Gonna be a late dinner now that's for sure, fuckin' starving."

"Shit."

"What about you? Got a hot date or something?" Mickey eyed him up and down. Ian's outfit wasn't fancy by any means, but he still looked damn good in it.

"Oh, I wish," he winked, "Just going on a walk to clear my head. But this is working just as well."

"Good for you, man. My head is fuller than ever."

"What're you thinking about?" Ian's heavy breath practically bounced off his face. His gaze flickered to Ian's pouting lips. This was ridiculous.

Kissing you. Kissing you. Kissing you. "Nothing."

"Riiiight." Ian's eyes mimicked the same trail that Mickey's had just followed.

"Yup."

Ian scooted closer to Mickey and he swore his heart was beating so loud that even Ian could hear it. If he could, he made no indication. Instead, he eyed Mickey's hand resting on the floor. Gently, careful not to spook him, he caressed Mickey's fingers, nearing his tattooed knuckles.

Mickey fought the urge to yank his hand away. No one ever touched him so delicately, so sweetly. He figured that Ian would have guessed that, seeing his crude tattoos, but he wasn't acting like this was strange. So Mickey let him.

"Fuckin' hate them." Mickey murmured, watching Ian's fingertips tracing over the back of his hand.

Ian frowned.

"The tattoos."

"They're you. I'm sure they have a story."

"Wish I could forget it."

"If it makes you feel any better, I have a pair of tits on my shoulder."

"Ex-fucking-cuse me?!" Mickey pictured literal tits growing out of the man's back.

"Here, look," Ian turned, pulling his shirt up, revealing an insanely toned and insanely freckled back. Surely he was not about to be flashed in an elevator. But sure enough, tattooed on his shoulder was a pair of double-D's.

"Shit! Dude, what the fuck is up with that?" Mickey laughed.

Yeah, this made him feel better. At least he didn't have fucking titties tattooed on his knuckles, though he was sure someone in his family must have something like that. They're fucking idiots like that. Like Ian, apparently. But Ian was good.

"It was supposed to be my mom." Ian winced, pulling his shirt back down to cover it again.

"Mom must've been a banger." Mickey joked, still hardly containing his laughter.

"Ugh," Ian groaned dramatically. "Never gonna live that one down."

He threw his hands back on the ground, near Mickey's but not touching this time.

Experimentally and slowly, so slowly, Mickey hooked his fingers with Ian's and rubbed his thumb against Ian's hand. It was calloused, but so soft. It was a movement so gentle he hardly recognized himself, completely contradictory to the message literally written across his hands.

He was practically holding hands with a man in an elevator. Oh, if dear dad could see him now.

Moving out of his hell house with Mandy had been a good step, but it had taken Mickey years to unlearn his self-hate, allow himself to be. He still wasn't perfect, and he still felt years behind. But with Ian, it felt normal. It felt right and warm.

Right then, he felt the elevator shift again. He tightened his grip on Ian's hand. Ian returned the hold. If he was going to die, at least he wasn't going to die alone.

Mickey realized that they weren't falling down, but rather moving upwards.

They released their hands and leapt up to their feet as the door dinged open, revealing a small staff of maintenance personnel, not looking at all concerned that two men had just been trapped inside for an unspecified amount of time.

"Fuckin' finally!" Mickey ran out. He resisted the urge to drop to the floor and kiss the ground. He was dramatic, but he wasn't that dramatic.

Ian thanked the maintenance people then hurried along beside Mickey. They weren't on their floor, but they sure as hell weren't about to take the elevator again after all that.

"Hey, Mickey, wanna come back to my place? I think I still have some leftover lasagna if you're still hungry."

Mickey checked the time. Yeah, Ernie's place was definitely closed by now. Plus he really did just want to go back to Ian's. He glanced up to see Ian in almost full puppy-dog eyes. The dork was needlessly persuasive, he'd give him that.

"Yeah, sure. I could eat." He grinned like an idiot.

Ian nodded his head towards the stairwell, holding the door open for Mickey, who obediently followed up the steps.

Ian's apartment wasn't too different than Mickey and Mandy's, mirrored and maybe smaller, but it looked oddly inviting and definitely way more lived in -- almost too much décor and family photos hung up around the space.

"Uh, make yourself comfortable," Ian called as he rummaged through the cabinets, grabbing a couple plates to reheat some food for Mickey and himself.

Mickey was no stranger to feigning confidence in unfamiliar locations, but this felt different, more genuine. He actually respected Ian, the man having been kind and patient with him in a less than ideal situation.

He sat himself on the barstool at Ian's countertop and watched him. The gorgeous man who he had been eyeing in secret for months, who had helped him through a small panic attack, who had held his hand and traced his tattoos like they were art. Like Mickey was art.

"So, Bowie, huh?" Ian leaned against the counter, waiting out the timer on the microwave.

"What?"

"Your shirt," he pointed, and Mickey looked down.

"Oh, yeah. He's cool as fuck. Dope music."

"Got great hair, too."

"You would think so."

"Self-love, baby."

"Good for you." But there was no edge in his voice.

Ian smiled. The microwave beeped and they settled in, eating together with nothing but the awkward clanging of silverware and chewing. Mickey was too fucking starving and too fucking tired to care about formalities to give a shit at this point.

"Bet you didn't think you'd spend your night eating lasagna with a David Bowie look-alike, huh?" Ian teased over a mouthful of pasta.

"You wish, man."

"Hey, it's at least a little true."

"Yeah, you're both fuckin' aliens."

"Maybe so, but at least we're hot."

They both smiled around their forks, glancing over at each other a little too frequently with nothing but fondness.

Ian collected their plates when they were done, taking them over to the sink to wash them later. Mickey got up and followed him into the center of the kitchen, still sipping on his beer before setting it on the counter to his right.

In a move that shocked Ian, and even himself, Mickey moved into Ian's space and pressed his chest against Ian's back. He wrapped his arms around Ian's waist, feeling up the plains and softness of his stomach, feeling his breath hitch and his heart beat faster. Mickey's warm breath bounced off of Ian's neck and back onto his own face.

Ian sighed and placed his hands over Mickey's again. He leaned his head back onto Mickey's shoulder for a moment before wiggling free from Mickey's grip enough to turn around and face him, carding one of his hands through Mickey's dark hair.

"Mickey." He said it so soft. With so much admiration. Mickey couldn't take it anymore. He leaned up and pulled Ian's head down so they were the same height.

"Fuck, c'mere," he murmured, lips practically touching Ian's with the words.

Ian pressed their lips together. For all his gentle touches throughout the night, his kiss was anything but. Like he needed him to breathe.

Ian pushed him backwards towards the living room, stumbling over each others' feet in the process. Mickey greedily pulled down on Ian's neck, desperate not to let him go. Ian smiled into it and dropped backwards onto the couch cushions, pulling Mickey on top of him, making out like dumb teenagers.

Eventually, they settled and Mickey rested his head on Ian's chest while Ian rubbed his back and head comfortingly. Truthfully, he was beginning to panic a bit. He hadn't liked anyone in awhile, and Ian was very hard to not like.

"Are you good?"

Fuckin' mind reader.

"I don't know." Smooth, Mick.

"You don't know what?" Ian probed gently.

Mickey sighed, "How to do this," he answered honestly. There was no point in lying to Ian.

Ian kissed Mickey's forehead, "We can do this any way you want, alright? No rush, no pressure."

"Yeah?"

"Absolutely," Ian scratched Mickey's head for a moment, "I've been waiting for you for awhile, Mick, I'll wait for however long you want."

Mickey leaned into his touch and then kissed his shoulder, "I want you, this."

"Me too." They smiled into each other. Safe together.

Neither made a move to push things further for the night. Ian had flicked on the tv to the same channel Mickey had on earlier, the Jurassic Park marathon still playing. After whatever movie was on now, Mickey decided he should head home. He was utterly exhausted after the day, and as much as he liked Ian, he didn't want to pass out in the guy's apartment -- though he was sure Ian wouldn't mind at this point, kind bastard.

After Ian had pulled Mickey into one last embrace, Mickey wretched open Ian's door, only to come face to face with his sister, makeup smudged and heels in hand after her night out.

She gasped way louder than fucking necessary, "You slut!"

"Shut the fuck up," he grumbled pushing past her to head back to his own apartment.

"See ya later, Mick!" Ian called down the hall. Mickey didn't respond, but Ian took no offense. To be fair, he had just been caught red-handed by his very dramatic bitch of a sister.

Mandy grinned and looked between Mickey's retreating form and Ian's blushing face. "Oh my god, Ian! I knew it!"

"Hi, Mands." He ducked his head, scratching the back of his neck.

She gave a cheeky, knowing wave goodbye and took off barefoot after Mickey, "You fucker! I want all the details!"

"You ain't gettin' 'em, bitch!" He stormed inside, but left the door open for her behind him.

Mandy threw her shoes on the floor and met up with him in the kitchen, punching his arm lazily so he spilled his newly-opened beer down his hand. "The fuck?!"

"I'm so proud of you!" She made grabby hands at Mickey in attempts to smush his cheeks, but he weaseled out of there quick enough to avoid her gross hands. She may be fuckin' drunk, but she was still quick.

"Yeah, will well ya stop screaming it from the rooftops. Ian's gonna think I'm a fuckin' loser."

"Awww," She chased after him as he headed down the hall, "You are a loser, but that's besides the point! I've been waiting for this for weeks!"

"Night!" Mickey shut his bedroom door in Mandy's face. She'd get over it in a minute. Hell she was probably well on her way to passing out already. Maybe she'd get some details out of him tomorrow.

But tonight -- he reveled in the fact that he spent the night making out with his very kind, very dorky, very hot red-headed neighbor.

And when Mandy eventually moved out from their apartment and in with her girlfriend, Mickey had absolutely no problem finding a new red-headed roommate.

#gw2021 #gw2021day7 #gallavich week 2021 #shameless #gallavich #my posts #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey

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a-pretty-nerd · 4 years

Text

Tomura Shigaraki x AllMight!Daughter!Reader

Chapter 9

Premis:

When The League of Villains discovers that AllMight has a daughter, they are quick to snatch you up and hold you hostage. Shigaraki had a careful and thought out plan, but that was before you got there. Now you’re in the mood for some not-so-healthy rebellion.

Word count: 2,756

Warnings: Cursing

A/N:

Oh dear lord I'm slow at getting these out. Life's been kickin' my ass lately. But thank you to everyone who's been giving me feedback on my stuff, I really love to hear from you guys!

Taglist:

(So sorry, I forgot when I originally posted!)

@craftybean13 @babayaga67 @imjustverable

@bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love

@kamenoyaki @hentaiqween101 @skzero-99 @justanotherlifeff

@witch-o-memes

Chapter 8 Chapter 10

Two months. You've been "missing" for two months now. The days flew by, your time occupied by quirk training Shigaraki insisted on but never told you why. The times you tried to ask he'd brush it off, or say something like:

"So you don’t throw another fit." His words were harsh but he said them with a flat and bored tone. Like it was a poorly acted line.

So now you had better control. You could move things on command, you knew basic combat, you certainly knew how to kick Dabi's ass by now, that didn't take too long. You were being allowed more and more freedom. Even allowed to leave for a convenience store runs with Toga once or twice. No one policed you, told you what you could and could not do anymore. You could have easily ran away by now. You supposed they really didn't need you either. For their plan to work all they would need was some blood and Toga could easily pass as you.

That idea sent a shiver down your spine. You're sure Shigaraki has thought of that already, so why hadn't he? Why was he training you? Would he use your quirk against the heroes in some way? Was he grooming you to turn and fight your father? You wouldn't. No matter what you wouldn't fight your father. Would you? You shook yourself of this thought as you walked down the ally to the back door of the hide out.

Toga unlocked the door and you stepped in, greeted by a dark and dingy back room. You made your way through the dark halls, following closely behind her as she led you up the stairs that finally led to the parts of the building with power. Soon you found yourself walking to the familiar living space where a few people rested. Dabi laid himself out on one of the couches, Spinner sat fiddling with his burner phone, and Twice had started yelling at the TV before you arrived.

"Luuuunch!" Toga shouted. Toga was often used as the errand girl, she brought back necessary supplies, oftentimes food. Today Toga asked you to tag along and help out, and there wasn't a single objection to the hostage going out on the town. You sat the heavy bags down on the coffee table, taking out the contents as you spoke.

"Where are the others?" You asked.

"Mr. Compress was sent on an errand of his own. And Shigaraki's probably pouting in his room. He'll come out when he's hungry." Dabi groaned as he took his meal from your hand.

"Oh. I'll just bring it to him." You said, absent-minded. All eyes turned to you, looking confused and shocked. "What?" You asked.

"Nothing! It's just-"

"He doesn't like to be disturbed." Toga and Twice spoke. You paused and looked at the box in your hand. It would get cold if he didn't eat soon, and besides, none of you had had much to eat lately, you were sure he was hungry. You knew you were.

"I'll just leave it at the door and knock. It'll get cold and then he'll be in an even worse mood." You told them. They watched you turn and walk up the stairs to his "room". You stood in front of the door, with such thin walls you could hear furious typing on the other side. Loud clicking of a mouse, and the sound of a computer's fan. You took a deep breath and softly knocked on the door. Suddenly the sounds abruptly stopped, followed by a bark.

"What!?"

"Foods here." You called back. You heard footsteps on the other side growing louder and louder until the door flew open. You stared up at the tall man as he looked down on you. His hair hung over his face, his eyes hardly visible. Your heart rate quickened the longer you looked at him. What the hell is wrong with you?

"Give it to me." He held out his hand, his pinky holding out in preparation to receive the box.

"You said you liked spice stuff, right?" You asked as you placed it in his hand.

"Yeah."

"We got you their spicy special. I hope it's not too much. The sign said 'caution' on it." He scoffed at you, turning the box and looking at the writing on it. He fell very quiet. Inspecting the box, you suddenly worried that something was wrong with it. That maybe you'd messed up somehow. But before your anxiety could reach its peak-

"Thank you." His voice was low and soft. You could hardly hear him. Then before you could respond he closed the door and left you alone again. Did he really say that? You never heard him say that to anyone. Granted, you hardly knew him but still, the way he said it, it made you feel... special in some way. You shook yourself from your train of thought and shuffled down the hallway, pausing when you heard movement and the door to Shigaraki's room open. You froze.

"Wait a minute." He barked. You turned too look at him. He hung out of the doorway to stare at you.

"W-What?" You asked. Shigaraki had a way of making people feel like they were in trouble. His ability to easily become an authority figure was something you were beginning to understand now.

"You...went out?" You nodded. He paused and looked away, his eyes shifting as the gears spun in his head. He turned back into his room as he spoke, "come here for a second." He asked. You slowly made your way to his room, the door left wide for you to peak inside. A dark room lit by portable light fixtures and a laptop computer which sat on an old desk. A cot thrown to the corner covered by the same old and tattered blankets the rest of you had.

"Am I... in trouble?" You croaked.

"What? No. Close the door behind you, you'll let in a draft." He ordered, seeming genuinely confused by your question. You closed the door behind you, leaving you completely alone with him in his space. Your heart raced.

You watched him turn and look up at the wall which he had decorated with plans. Pictures of heroes and villains cut out and pinned. Newspaper clippings, printed out articles and research essays. He was planning something, but what it was was difficult to determine. You did notice however, a cut out of an empty figure with your name on it pinned to the center of it all. You stared at it for a second before he broke you from your train of thought.

"Well?"

"Huh!?"

"What do you think?" He asked. His attention turned to his meal, he picked at it, taking a few bites.

"Of what?"

"...the plan." You looked back at the wall, puzzled you tried your best to gain any sort of information from it. Only being able to find bits and pieces. You knew it involved you, your father, and the take down of hero society. A cut out piece of article said something about the rise of villains, that more and more people were turning to villain work. How those rates have a correlation with classes. You slowly turned back to look at him.

"I'm sorry you're gonna have to explain this to me." You told him. He rolled his eyes and stood, directing his attention to his work as he spoke.

"This is the second part of the plan."

"What was the first?"

"Taking you as a hostage."

"Right. But, didn't you say the plan was to expose the heroes after they weren't able to rescue me and not only expose the faulty heroes but also my father as a neglectful and flawed individual not worthy of the hero title?" He paused.

"Yes."

"But that didn't go as planned."

"....."

"Didn't you say something about making a video to broadcast outing myself as All Might's daughter and causing panic? What happened to that plan?"

"It became leverage. If they attempt to come for you, then we'll go with that. But if we do that now, they'll come for you now and we'll be forced to fight."

"Isn't a fight...a good thing? You'd get news coverage and You'd no doubt gain supporters."

"Normally it would. But a fight isn't what we need right now. The heroes have us surrounded. If we make any move at all, we're in their hands. We won't be able to win."

"Not even with your quirk? Couldn't you-"

"Not with everyone here. As strong as I've gotten, I'm not strong enough to keep them from getting swept up and dusted too."

"Right."

"We're in a tight spot. One wrong move and we'll be wiped out."

"What about your supporters? Couldn't you get help from the outside."

"I could, but the heroes would see it coming. They have our signal tapped. Any sort of communication has to be verbal or written."

"Homing pigeon?" You offered. It made him smirk.

"Right now we're like a fox trapped in its own hole by hunters."

"So... we dig?" That made him smile, wide.

"Dig. If we could smuggle ourselves out of the city, we could reach a clear spot where we can call for backup to get us."

"Why not send one person to smuggle themselves out? Toga could easily disguise herself and leave."

"They have a barrier."

"What?"

"Part of the city is closed off until further notice. They know exactly where we are. If one gets out, they won't hesitate to come for all of us. We all have to get out at once and they can't notice until it's too late."

"But how the hell are you gonna do that?" His smile widened. He looked truly excited and happy. For the first time you saw your capture seem truly excited about something.

"We have a few secret recruits in the city. Spies." He turned his attention back to his meal box, reaching in to pull out the inner box that held the food, to reveal a piece of paper sitting underneath in the flimsy take out box. "I didn't know they were letting you out of the base now." He spoke as he opened and read the note within the box.

"I thought, you knew. I thought you were the one that said I could. Dabi said it was fine." He read the note and stood to pin it up on the wall before speaking.

"I've been too busy with this to worry about you. You shouldn't believe everything that Dabi says. I told him to make sure you just don't have another episode and cause a scene before we leave. I thought assigning him babysitting duty would keep him busy." He chuckled. "There's just one thing I don't understand." He turned back to you. "Why didn't you leave?"

"I...I..."

"You had the opportunity, but you're still here. Why?" You froze. Why? Why didn't you run?

"I was scared I'd be killed." You lied. He laughed at you.

"Don't lie to me. You lost that fear a long time ago. You know that's not true. If I wanted you dead I would have killed you a long time ago."

"You've kept me alive to use me as bate. To, to expose the truth." You argued.

"With Toga, we wouldn't need to." You swallowed hard. You knew he had thought about this.

"I'll tell you why I stayed, if you tell me why you've been training me." He scoffed.

"To keep you busy, to keep you from having another episode."

"That doesn't make sense. You could have drugged me, killed me, you said it yourself. But you kept me alive, you kept me busy. You could have kept me on my meds, unable to use it at all but you insisted I learn my quirk. You trained me yourself. Why?" His smile faded and his expression became dark.

"I asked you first." He growled. You looked away from him and thought for a moment before gaining the strength to answer. You knew the truth for a while now. You never wanted to say it out loud. You refused to look at him as you spoke.

"I don't wanna go back. But you probably already knew that by now. You just wanted to hear me say it, huh?" His smirk returned.

"Had a hunch." He snickered.

"Now you answer me."

"Why don't you wanna go back?"

"We had a deal. Answer my question now." You barked at him. It took him a long pause. A full minute of waiting in silence felt like agony.

"I thought it would help you feel better." He muttered in a surprisingly husky tone. "Keep you from asking me to dust you again." That's right, during your episode...

"I'm sorry." You blurted.

"What?"

"I'm sorry I... I asked you to kill me." You hid your face from him. He shifted and crossed his arms across his chest.

"It's not a big deal, I dust people all the time."

"No, I know. But like, I can't imagine being asked to by someone having a fucking break down happens all the time too. I kinda...kinda put you in a shitty position." When you looked up, he looked confused. Comically so. "What?"

"I took you hostage." He reminded you. You couldn't help but chuckle, that made him more confused.

"Shit, yeah, you're right. Guess I shouldn't be so hard on myself huh?" He looked away. "Still. My intentions weren't to upset you."

"You didn't upset me."

"It seems like I upset you." You toyed. His guard was down, he was vulnerable, and allowing you to be there.

"Shut up. You didn't answer my other question!" He shouted in an almost playful tone. You couldn't help but smile, only to have it slowly fade as you thought about your second answer.

"I don't want to go back because..." you stopped, the words getting stuck in your throat. You were unable to speak. He looked down at you, waiting for an answer. He seemed almost relaxed. He seemed normal. Like a normal guy leaning against the wall of his bedroom with his arms folded across his chest. Your eyes wandered up to his scarred neck, bright red scabs forming. Inflamed and fresh. He had recently scratched at it again, clearly in an upset state too. When he blinked you got a clear view of the scarring around his eyes.

"Boss!" A familiar voice shouted from outside the door. "Boss!" Before you could move the door was thrown open, Spinner's wide eyes finding you standing there. He shook his confusion loose before turning back to Shigaraki who quickly changed his position to attention. "Come quick!"

You followed him back to the living space where the old television sat. The news playing loudly as everyone gathered around to watch in panic. Swat teams and heroes decorated the screen as shot after shot showed them surrounding your building. Fear ran from your toes to your head, making you feel nauseous and dizzy. Shit. Shit. Shit. They're here for you. But you...you weren't ready to leave. And what about-

"Not again! - We can take 'em'!" Twice shouted at it like a sport was playing.

"Tomura, what are we going to do!?" Toga asked, frantically bobbing up and down in panic. He watched the TV intently listening in.

"After receiving a tip from an anonymous source, police and heroes found missing tourist Y/L/N Y/N being held captive by The League of Villains in this abandoned office building. Officials are working now to safely rescue the hostage."

Suddenly a loud voice was heard both on TV and through the halls of the building.

"League of Villains. We have you surrounded. Please let Y/L/N go and no one will be hurt." A cop shouted through a megaphone.

"C'mon Shigaraki, what's the plan?" Dabi asked, clearly starting to get uncomfortable. Before Shigaraki could respond, you spoke.

"Well, looks like this is it for me." You began walking away, only to be stopped by a strong, four-fingered grip pulling you back.

"Where do you think you're going!?" He growled.

"The jig is up, Shigaraki! Let me go! I'm not useful anymore. All they want is me, if I'm out of your hair you'll be able to escape easier." His grip tightened, pulling you closer as his red eyes bore into yours.

"So long as you're here they won't dare make a move. You're still my most valuable player. You're staying right here."

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #Shigaraki #bnha fanfic #league of villians

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

Text

❛ TWO COFFEES ❜

✨ REQUEST: Oh can I have a Nestor imagine where Miguel ends setting the pair of you up??? 💜♥️💜♥️💜

✨ MADE BY ANON.

Gif credits: to the author.

WORDS: about 1.6k.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place or something that makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted ❤ — this work also includes sentences in Spanish, as reader can speak it.

❚❙ NESTOR OCETEVA MASTERLIST.

❚❙ MASTERLIST.

❚❙ JOIN MY TAG LIST.

“Two coffees, please”.

You were with your back to him when you heard his husky voice and a soft latin tone in it. You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow with some kind of confusion at his order. Who comes to a Starbucks just asking for two coffees? Turning at the man with your lips pressed in a funny smile, you took a second to look at him behind the counter.

He is familiar to you. You know him from somewhere.

His black braids were the first thing that caught your attention, before focusing on the red and black shirt under the jacket of his suit. His hands were hidden inside the pockets of his pants, but you noticed his nervousness in the way he had closed them in two fists.

“Normal or decaf? With or without milk? Normal milk? Lactose-free? Soya milk? Almond milk? With sugar, saccharine, or mocca? With or without cream? Do you want it hot or do you want it iced?”

“Normal, no milk, no sweetener, no cream, no ice. Just two coffees”.

You were about to laugh until you heard him talking again. A tone more firm letting you know that he wasn't in the mood for jokes. You could see him gulping a little ashamed when you changed the gesture in your face, but you didn't say anything else. The order was easy and ready in less than one minute. Closing the cups and offering him, you tried to show him another gentle smile but you couldn't. Offering you ten dollars, you waved a hand between the both of you.

“It's on me… Sir”. You told him, an instant before he threw the money inside the tips jar.

Watching him leaving the cafeteria made you feel strangely bad, not knowing exactly why. Sighing as the black car, parked in front of your workplace, disappeared from your field of vision in a jiffy. You hadn't seen that man before, but you wouldn't mind seeing him again. To apologize for being so stupid, of course.

—— NESTOR POV ——

“I fucked up”.

“Yeah, we all have seen the face of that poor girl. I bet you scared her”. Miguel laughed in the back seat of his car, taking a sip from the coffee.

“What the fuck you told him, man?” Vargas stopped the vehicle at a red light, turning at his boss.

“I asked for two coffees, and she started to… give me a lot of options, like milk and sugar and I just got nervous”.

“You? Nervous?” Miguel leaned forward, placing his forearms in both seats, sticking his head out of the gap between both. “The fearless Nestor Oceteva feeling nervous?”

“Fuck off, Mickey! I've been trying to talk with her for a week”.

“Yeah, and you scared her. Did you forget you only had to scare people while you're working?” The other man raised his eyebrows, making his boss laugh behind them.

When the night came and the cafeteria had emptied of customers, you turned off most of the lights inside and locked the main door, to count the cash and write it down in the account book. Playing some soft music on your phone, you took off the green cap and the apron of the same color. It was a long day and all you can think about was in that mystery man with two braids, and who made you feel frustrated for some reason. It wasn't like you wanted to make him smile or to know his name, or maybe get his phone number. Of course not.

Knocks on the crystal door claimed your attention, turning your head towards it and interrupting your task. Gulping nervously finding two suited men with his hands tangled in a big fist, respectively, under their abdomens, you stepped out from behind the counter to lead your feet to their position.

“Are you alone?” One of them asked without any doubt in his words.

Simply nodding, the other man walked to the car parked behind them. Then, you watched Miguel Galindo coming out from it. And now, you were fucked. Of course, you knew the man who came that morning. Licking your lips, freaking out, you unlocked the door to let him walk in.

“Buenas noches”.

“Buenas noches, se—señor Galindo”.

“Are you occupied? May I come in?”

With your heart racing, you gave him enough space to pass you away to the inside.

“I'm sorry if… he tho—thought I was making… fun of him. I didn't me—mean to be disrespectful”.

Your hands were sweating, rubbing one against the other behind your back. Barely breathing. Praying anything you knew.

“Tranquila, it's okay. Do you think I came to… make you something?” His calm attitude gave you shivers. The kind of ones that put your body to tremble. The laugh that echoed all around the empty cafeteria provoked your nausea. “The truth is… you like him. He has been some days trying to encourage himself to ask you out, but my brother is a little dumb”.

Tilting your head with confusion, just like a dog would do, you narrowed your eyes not sure if he was being serious or he was teasing you to have some fun.

“I do—”.

Miguel raised a forefinger to stop you, as soon as his phone rang inside his jacket. Grabbing it from the pocket and reading the name on the screen, he answered the call with the speaker on.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Mickey? Emily just told me you went for two coffees. The fuck you have? Five fucking years old? Leave the waitress in pace!”

Feeling like shit, you bowed down your head because of his words, recognizing the voice at the instant. The man in front of you watched the gesture frowning his brow.

“Nestor, the speaker is on”.

Pi, pi, pi. He had hung up.

“List—”.

“Can you, please, leave? I think you have had enough fun. And you should be ashamed of using your position to do this kind of bullshit to someone humble, who only wants to live her life without being a target to your free time”. Trying to be polite, you pointed at the door with a hand.

“No, no, lis—”.

“If you don't leave right now, sir, I'm calling the cops”. You ruled, taking a step forward with your eyes glued to him, about to cry because of rage. The rage that helped you to lose any fears about confronting the dangerous Miguel Galindo.

In silence, he nodded only one time, turning around to leave the cafeteria. After locking the door, you let the tears fill up your eyes and run down your cheeks. Needing a little break before finishing your work and going home.

A few days have passed since then, not being able to stop thinking about it and why you. Why they decided to play that prank. It wasn't funny. At least, it wasn't funny for you. But you were sure that, later, they commented it and laughed about your gestures. Turning the filter holder of the professional coffee maker, to fit it into the gear, you can't help but look through the reflection on it over your shoulder. Your heart jumps when you find Nestor bent over the counter with both forearms, waiting to be attended to.

“What would you like, sir?” The question comes out from your mouth with a cold tone of voice, not even looking at his eyes, ready to take his order in the TPV.

“Two coffees”. He replies trying to not show any kind of emotion, taking off the sunglasses covering his dark eyes. “One like… just coffee. And another of your choice”.

Filling up the cups with the drink and securing them with the covers, you put them over the counter to grab back the money and give him the change. Holding one with his right hand, the man offers you the other with his left.

“Do you have a moment?”

“No”.

“Por favor”.

“I said no”.

“I'm going to stay here, till you say yes”. The smile curving his mouth, showing you two perfect rows of teeth, convinces you somehow.

Rolling your eyes and tapping your co-worker's shoulder, you make him a gesture to cover you to take a short break. Nestor follows you then to the back alley, not saying a word but trying to prepare a monologue to apologize. Stopping your track and facing him, having a sip from your coffee, you wave your hand waiting for something.

“I told him to not do it”.

“So… was it a bet, or what? Were you bored and thought that could be fun making me feel stupid and ashamed?”

“None of that”. His jaw tensing calls your attention, bowing his eyes to the drink between his hands. “I really wanted to ask you out, but I wasn't sure if you were going to accept. I was nervous and… Miguel thought that he could help me”.

“He didn't”.

“I know”.

“And you, shouting through the phone, either”.

“Yeah, lo siento por eso”. Looking at your eyes again, with regret, he keeps his free hand in a pocket. “If you don't want to hang out with me, it's okay. I came to apologize for what happened”.

“Thank you”. You just whisper.

He tilts his head, pressing his lips and forcing a smile. Nestor waits one second, hoping that you add something else like you would like to have a date, but you don't talk again. Giving up, he nods turning around disappointed, walking out of the alley.

But actually, you're just making him suffer a little. It's called payback.

“I'm free tomorrow night”.

With a brow raised, the man turns around, facing you some steps away.

“We can meet at Jin's chinese restaurant. At seven”.

His smile appears again, infecting you with the same gesture.

“I'll be there at six”.

“Why?” You chuckle, not understanding him.

“To not make you wait”.

“Todo un caballero…”

#lemme know what you think in a comment! ✨#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #mayans mc #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva imagine #nestor oceteva

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aficwhore · 3 years

Text

Truth Is (Chapter 3)

Chapter 3: Paper Weighted Problems

Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!reader

Summary: After the night before, tensions between Fish and Chip arise. While tearing through the jungle and Lorea’s place, Frankie and the reader fight, leading to an amazing discovery.

Word count: 3K

Warnings: explicit language, blood, violence, guns/weapons, lots of angst and emotions, infidelity?, smut, sexual innuendos, drinking, mentions of drugs, talk of death/death itself, and talk of mental health(PTSD and depression).

A/N: Sorry for the late update, Life has its ups and downs! Today we had a bad storm so I sat in my basement and wrote this. I hope you like it<3

Regret. Frankie couldn't hide the emotion from me. It was as clear as day, I wondered if the boys had noticed it.

“Well what’s for breakfast?” I broke the awkward silence, causing everyone but Frankie to break their gazes away from me, but exchanges looks between each other. I finally looked anywhere but in Frankie’s direction.

Tom cleared his throat, “Uh nothing special, we saw that you had some frozen waffles and just made those.” He tried to lighten the mood, it was obvious, everyone knew about last night.

“Haha, yea, what grown woman buys Eggos?” Benny attempted to joke, causing Santi and Will to stifle a laugh.

I rolled my eyes, fighting a smile, thoughts of Frankie still clouding my mind. “For occasions just like this one! When five grown men have a slumber party in my living room.” I added, walking over to the counter and grabbing a plate full of waffles and dowsing them in syrup.

“Right, because that’s definitely what it was.” Tom chuckled, handing me a napkin.

“Exactly, I’m pretty sure I saw Pope braiding Benny Boy’s hair.” I joked biting into a chunk of food.

Ben scoffed, “It gets in my eyes!” And everyone froze, staring at him in shock. After a second of complete silence, Frankie burst into laughter, sending the rest of us into a laughing fit, except Ben. He stood there blushing, trying to act like he didn’t reveal that he braids his hair.

Will began to cough, struggling to not choke on the mouthful of food while he snickered. Pope roughly patted him on the back as our giggles died down.

“So, does that mean you sit in the mirror and braid your own hair?” Tom questioned with a smirk on his face, wanting to bother Benny more.

“You shut up.” He jokingly spits. Tom raises his hands as a sign of defeat and continues to finish the last bites of food on his plate.

“Anyways...Other than our ‘slumber party’ I know two people that had some fun last night.” Pope spoke up, causing mine and Fish’s eyes to open wide.

“Oh yea, how could we forget? ‘Oh FrAnKiE, Oh YeS! HaRdEr!’” Benny mimicked me while thrusting his hips for dramatic affect. I could feel heat rising to my face as the boys roared with giggles again.

“Would you cut it out?” Frankie replied, wanting to avoid this talk entirely.

Then Pope joined in, making fun of Frankie, “’FuCk, bAbY, I wOn’T LaSt LoNg!’” I sat there, embarrassed and not knowing what to say. Normally this would be a joke, but with everything, this wasn’t a joking matter.

“I said enough!” Frankie shouted, “It shouldn’t have happened, okay?!” He expressed, shoving his chair back, getting up, and storming outside.

All the commotion died immediately. Pope and Benny opened their mouths to apologize when they turned to me, but were met with a blank stare.

Did he really mean that? After pursuing me? After trying so hard to make up, he goes and says ‘It shouldn’t have happened.’

Everyone remained quiet, continuing to stare at me in concern. After what felt like hours, Tom pushed his seat back and got up, hopefully headed to catch Frankie.

Once Tom had made it out the front door, I cleared my throat, "So, what time are we leaving?" I asked, trying to hide all the hurt and pain from my eyes.

The three remaining men all exchanged looks, "Here in 15." Santi spoke quietly, unsure of what exactly just happened.

"Sounds good!" I faked enthusiasm, stuffing my mouth with the last bite on my plate and getting up. I swiftly put my dishes in the sink and headed back to my room. I could hear the boys whispering to each other, trying to understand what the hell was going on with Frankie and I.

I closed my door behind me. I leaned against it, letting my head fall back with defeat and hit the door. Feeling my emotions topple over the brim, tears rushed to my eyes as I slid down the door and sank to the floor.

What the fuck was going on? Why was Frankie so upset with our actions. I thought finally we had made up, that he was once again MY Fish. Had he just used me last night? What changed his mind? Why was this happening all over again?

Lost in my thoughts, I hadn't realized that my sobs were now audible. I couldn't hold back the garbled gasps I let out. Tears stained my cheeks and began to soak my shirt.

Through the door I could hear the boys trying to get each other to come get me, because it was close for us to leave. Not wanting to deal with the water works anymore, I slapped my cheeks a few times, trying to smack the emotions out of my head. I wiped my tears off and quick got up to change my shirt.

After rummaging through my clothes, I found a similar shirt, threw it on and swung open the door, wanting to just head to the airport, and to get this over with.

Holding my head up high, I confidently walked back to the kitchen/living room to meet the boys. Only Benny and Will stood there waiting for me, finishing the dishes and putting them away.

"All set? I'm ready to get this over with and be rich." I attempted to joke, causing the brothers in front of me to awkwardly chuckle, their eyes full of worry.

Benny shook his head, acknowledging that I wanted to ignore the fiasco and to get on the road. He led the way out of the apartment after hanging up a dish towel and grabbing his wallet and keys off the counter.

I followed quickly behind him with Will right on my heels. When we made it to the cars, Frankie sat in the front passenger side of Santi's truck, Santi in the driver seat, and Tom between them.

"I'll drive," Will offered, making his way to his truck and getting in. Benny walked ahead of me, opened the door and waited for me to hop in, before getting in after.

No one spoke as we tailgated Santi's truck all the way to the airport. Will placed his hand on my thigh the whole time, as a way to console me. Benny had his arm around me, slightly pulling me into his side. With them, I felt much better, they were my best friends and knew exactly how to comfort me.

When we found a good parking space, we all hopped out, and grabbed our things from the bed of the trucks. It was still awkwardly silent between everyone.

As we checked into our flights and went through TSA, Benny tried to lighten the mood by saying he needed a snack, even though we had just ate. We all giggled when Will called him a 'garbage disposal.'

Sitting at our flight gate was almost unbearable, realizing this mission would be very difficult, now with the added tension.

When we boarded the plane, Will and Santi sat with me, of course I was in the middle. Tom, Benny, and Frankie sat in the seats next to us. During the first hour I attempted to read a book, but quickly got bored as I felt Pope fall asleep and rest his head against my shoulder. Will sat with his eyes closed and headphones in.

I glanced over Pope's sleeping frame to find the others. Benny was leaned forward, head down and snoring on the tray he had propped up. Tom was slouched in his chair, his head lulling back and forth with sleep consuming him. And Frankie, who was also reading, looked up and met my eyes.

I ignored the gaze he gave me and turned my attention back to my book. Moments later I felt my phone buzz with a text. I sat my book down and pulled out my phone, reading the message;

Fishie: "I'm sorry..."

I rolled my eyes, was he really apologizing for his blowout, over a text?

Locking my phone, I put it face down into my lap, leaving the message unanswered. I continued my page in my book, only getting past a few sentences before my phone vibrated again. I acted as if I didn't feel it and remained reading. Only for it to ping again.

Frustratedly, I opened my phone again, seeing two additional texts;

Fishie: "Really?"

Fishie: "I meant what I said. I am sorry, but last night... was a mistake."

Heat began to rise to my cheeks, I forcefully typed back;

Me: "Wow, you are unbelievable."

I heard him shuffle and type back quickly;

Fishie: "Because I apologized? It's true, I'm only helping us both here. Yea it was my fault, but I shouldn't have gone to your room."

Me: "You took advantage of my feelings. You acted like we can just ignore this, I can't help but feel you led me on."

Fishie: "Led you on?! How? WE both decided to sleep together, thats it. I didn't LEAD you to do anything."

Me: "You're a real fucking piece of work."

Fishie: "Oh really?"

Me: "Yea, fuck you."

Fishie: "God you are the most stubborn and hard headed person I've ever met. Can't you see that this was a damn mistake?"

Me: "Screw you, oh wait, I did, but look where that got me. I don't even know why you're trying to apologize, because somehow you keep shifting the blame to me."

As I hit send and shoved my phone between my legs and put my book away, I heard Frankie huff with anger. Awaiting a reply I closed my eyes and leaned against Will, using his arm as a pillow.

But for a while, nothing came, and I slowly began to drift into unconsciousness.

My sleep had been interrupted by the plane shaking and a loud thump. I opened my eyes abruptly, and slightly frightened. I faced Will, to glance out the window and found that we had finally landed in Colombia.

We all silently gathered our things and slowly made our departure from the plane and airport. Once we trudged through the doors, we made it into the humid climate, the wet air immediately dampening our skin and clothes.

"Damn, this is gonna be fun." Benny chirped as we all huddled into the jeep Santi had prepared for us. Santi hopped upfront, and so did Tom, leaving four of us to try and fit in the backseat.

"Pope, there six of us, there's no way we'll fit AND have room for the bags." I spoke up, watching as Will, Benny, and Frankie smushed into the seats together.

"I know, I promise I'm more prepared than that," he laughed. "We only have to ride like this for a few miles, then we're on foot, and they'll have cargo vans there." He explained, turning on the engine and motioning for me to somehow get in.

"You can sit on my lap, I'll hold you down during Pope's insane driving." Benny laughed from between Will and Fish. I climbed over Will, careful not to hurt him, and landed in Ben's lap when he yanked the arm I used to brace my weight.

I twisted in his lap to sit comfortably, hoping I'd fit and we could just hurry up and get this over with. Benny wrapped his arms around my waist as Santi sped off and made way to a long and bumpy road.

We hit quite a few bumps and potholes, causing me to shift and bounce in Benny's lap. I tried to lean forward and hang in-between the two front seats, to help alleviate the rough contact between us.

"Damn it Chip, quit wiggling." Benny grunted from behind me.

"I can't control that, Pope is hitting every possible bump on the road." I squeaked as we hit a particularly hard one. I landed back into his lap and felt something. "Ouch, what the hell is in your pocket."

Will snorted and faced the window to hide his face as Benny gulped loudly. "I-I can't help it, you keep moving!" I froze, wanting to still believe it was something in his pocket.

"C'mon man, can't you control yourself?" Frankie angrily spoke up.

I pulled my back from Benny and sat as far forward on his legs as I could, turning to look at Frankie. "What? How is it-" I countered, my voice dying in my throat.

"Fish, you know how it works, it's not like I'm doing this on purpose." Benny awkwardly explained.

Frankie huffed and shook his head. "Whatever." he muttered.

"Looks like someone is jealous." Santi quietly joked.

"I am not jealous! We-we are on a damn mission! That should be the last thing from anyones mind, we need to focus on not dying and getting the fucking money." Frankie snapped, filling the jeep with his booming voice.

All noise ceased, the only sound was the creaking of the car as we rolled off the main road into a trail. The tension was at an all time high, it was engulfing and in a way, suffocating.

After some time, we stopped, Santi throwing the car in park and quickly turning to us. "My informant said that the mansion should be vacant, but we only have about 15 minutes, so we get in and get out, with as much as we can carry, but we can't take too much time." We all nodded. "When I get the signal, we're coming in hot and getting right to it. Get out and suit up." He turned back around and hopped out.

We followed behind, pulling out our bags and pulling on our gear. Not much else was said, due to the shit that was about to go down, even though it would be empty, you never know what could happen.

"Alright, obviously with everything, we no longer fit, I'll ride the side." I spoke, waiting for Will to get in and shut the door.

"Me too, easier that way." Frankie offered, shutting his door after Benny jumped in.

Will shut his door and I placed my foot on the step bar, hauling myself up to grab the rack on top for support, hanging on tight as Frankie did the same. "All good?" Pope asked through the window.

"Game time bitches." I quirked, slapping my free hand on the top of the Jeep. As we waited for the signal, I took in my surroundings, lush, thick forest all the way around, If Pope doesn't know where to go, we'd definitely get lost.

As I admired the greenery, I turned to look over the roof of the car, meeting Frankie's eyes for what seemed like the millionth time since we've reunited.

He sheepishly looked away and down at the ground, his knuckles which wrapped around the frame of the rack, tightened and turned white.

A garbled and staticky noise came from the cab of the vehicle, causing Pope to slam the gear shift into drive and yell "Hold on tight!" He lurked the jeep forward, stepping up the speed.

I held on tighter, pulling my body as flush as I could to the side of the Jeep, to avoid hitting the branches and brush that littered the sides of the overgrown trial.

After a long blur of green, the forest broke into a path, leading to a small mansion. Just as fast as we drove, we stopped. I jumped off and quickly swung the door open for Will, stepping back and pulling my gun from my side.

Without any words, we all strategically filed into the house, making sure to take cover and search the premise, eliminating any threats. The first floor had been barren, as for people, though it was filled with expensive artwork and furniture.

Once we all searched and met at the staircase, Pope nodded at me, signaling for me to take the lead upstairs and sweep the area. I quickly glided up the stairs and took cover near the first door, getting ready to burst in the room and check. To my luck, when I leaped into the room, it was empty. I glanced behind the door, and walked further into the office, keeping my gun at attention.

I could hear the boys doing the same, in the last four rooms. I observed the room, a big desk sat in the middle, a fancy chair accompanied it, the walls were decorated with paintings and portraits. The was a door in the corner, which I strode over to, swinging it open, full force. An alarmed Fish sat on the other side, the door led to the next room. I quickly pointed my gun at the ground and rolled my eyes, turning to examine the room again.

"Clear!" I yelled, letting the team know our section was safe.

Frankie walked through the door and up to me, as I sifted through the desk. "Hey I just wanted to talk real quick."

"Really? Now is not the time, look for the money." I spat back at him. "Any luck?!" I yelled hoping someone found something.

A faint voice answered, "No! I swear, she said there was money here!" Pope echoed.

Getting antsy, I shoved the desk, causing it to fall over, Frankie stepped back, "Listen, I didn't mean to make things worse, okay? Trust me I wanted nothing more than to be with you again."

I paused my movements, holding a paperweight in my hand, "No Frankie, you've done enough, either you want me or don't." I spoke harshly.

"Damn it Chip, just listen!" He raised his voice.

"No! I'm not doing this again, get your shit together and fucking look for something!" I yelled, bending down to put the weight down. He leaned forward and grabbed my arm. "Fuck you!" I yanked away, causing the paper weight to leave my hand and barrel into the wall.

The wall cracked, a hole forming as the weight bounced off and fell to the ground. "Look at what you did!" Frankie gasped with frustration.

I whipped around, walking to the wall, grabbing the paperweight. As I stood, I stopped halfway up when I was met with the hole. But it wasn't just an empty wall or beam behind it. There were plastic packages sticking out, which is very unusual for houses. Frankie began to murmur again.

"Shh! Shut Up!" I shushed him, reaching into the hole and tugging at the bag.

"You never let me talk-" Frankie continued.

"Frankie shut the fuck up! Look!" I screamed when the bag came out of the wall and into my hands. I Twisted on my heel and showed him the bag, which contained a huge stack of One-hundred dollar bills.

"Holy Fuck." Frankie gulped, making eye contact with me.

TAGLIST @tanyaherondale @winter-fox-queen @supernaturalgirl @actual-spawn-of-satan @hnt-escape @toomanystoriessolittletime @shadowolf993 @goldielocks2004

*if your user has a strike through, it wouldn’t let me tag you*

#frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie catfish Morales x reader #catfish x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier x reader #frankie morales angst #angst

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