#it seems very fitting somehow that on my first day at that job i spent an hour on hold with IT and on my last day i will probably once again

[fingertipsmp3]

This week has really been one of those that has me straight up not wanting to leave my house or contact anyone or do anything because something seems to go wrong with everything I do

[hurts2think]

Hello!! I read your Red x Reader one-shot and LOVED IT, she's such a distinct character and you did such a good job writing her <3

Would you be able to do Red x tall!fem reader? I'm 5'11", much taller than a 5'5" Kylie Cantrall LOL, and I think the short and angry x tall and calm dynamic is so fun. Thanks so much!

♥️Red Hearts x Reader♥️

Reader pronouns: She/her

Pairing: Red Hearts x Tall!Fem!Reader

Plot: You're the daughter of Rapunzel and you took interest in the new girl. But all of your friendly advances just anger her... But maybe she'll warm up to you during a friendly game of ball.

Word Count: 2k

Extra: Thank you so much, that's genuinely one of the sweetest compliments I've ever gotten🫶 I combined this with another request. I had a really hard day today so I'm sorry if it's rushed and not as well chatacterized. Please enjoy <3

Extra pt2: I never ever specify race or features in this, but the reader is described with very long hair. Interpret it as you will but I'm sorry to all of my friends with afros :(

Despite being a royal, you never were a 'typical princess'. Your parents always accepted you no matter what you were interested in or how princess-y you acted because they were the same as you.

When your mother, Rapunzel, returned to her kingdom for the first time, she could never fit into the royal ways. And of course your father, Eugene Fitzherbert (Aka the infamous Flynn Rider) was a criminal before meeting your mother. So you never had very royal influences growing up.

Because of this, when you started going to Auradon Prep you tended to be drawn more towards the VKs who weren't confined by the royal standard. You began to really go full force into the idea of parkour, sword fighting, and adventuring in general. It was much more thrilling for you than any etiquette class your kingdom forces you to take.

So running around, jumping off walls, and friendly fighting was how you spent any afternoon with your friends. And recently you've met someone new. She just transferred from Wonderland which immediately intrigued you. Her name was Red and she was the daughter of the Queen of Hearts. Naturally, you had hundreds of questions and filled with excitment but she would always give a snarky reply before walking away from you.

Though she seemed to not like you very much the two of you had many of the same interests, so you'd end up seeing her and running into her multiple times a day. You never gave up on trying to be her friend but she was as stubborn as a mule. And unfortunately for her, so were you.

"Ya know, Red, you're really good at all this parkour stuff. Where'd you learn it? Are you self taught?" You asked her with a smile.

The two of you were in chemistry class and you were really just trying to start up casual conversation, but she didn't seem too amused with it.

"Wonderland was ruled by a tyrant, kinda had no choice but to bounce off walls and slip through the cracks. Otherwise it's 'off with your head'." She replied with the same sassy attitude she always had.

"Oh... Well. It's still cool how good you are at it. Especially considering..." You trailed off, suddenly shutting up because you didn't want to offend her.

Red looked back at you with a skeptical look, "Considering what?"

An awkward giggle escaped your lips, "Well, you're not very... Uhm... Tall?" You finally coughed out, desperately not trying to come off as offensive.

Though it was in vain. Red gave you a dirty look, suddenly standing up straight and crossing her arms, "What does that have to do with anything?"

You lucked out when it came to the height department, unlike your older sister. Your mom was short but your dad was super tall, and you somehow came out looking more like him anyway. So at almost six feet, Red definitely seemed far shorter. "Nothing! Just uh, ya know, I imagine it's not very easy getting up high walls and stuff." You involuntarily giggle.

"And you're freakishly tall. Don't you ever trip over your own feet while doing anything?" She rolled her eyes, her expression never changing.

"Uhm, no..."

"Then no. See? Your assumption was stupid." Red declared, looking away from you as if just looking at your face was making her angry.

You went silent, slowly going back to working on your weird chemistry project before clearing your throat, "It's not a bad thing. People love snarky short girls, it's totally a desired trait now-a-days." You meant for it to be a compliment but really you were just digging a deeper hole for yourself.

"So what? Are you hitting on me or something?"

The bluntness almost made you drop the flask of chemicals in your hand, "Wh—?! No! No... That's not what I meant." Your face heats up a little and your eyes trail away from her, "I just... I didn't mean anything rude about you being short."

Red let out a long breath, "Mention something as unimportant as height one more time and I swear I'll strangle you." She threatened calmly.

This made you pause and stiffle a snicker, "Would you even be able to reach?"

The look Red gave you almost felt like it could've shot you dead on the spot. "Sorry, sorry! I was just kidding... Just joking. I'm done now."

You finally decided to just shut up and work on your project in silence. She really might try and strangle you if you kept talking.

------

It was nearing closer to the end of the day and you really started feeling bad for making Red upset like that. What if it was an insecurity? You didn't mean to hurt her feelings! So you decided to make it up to her. Just invite her to a casual one on one game of basketball, all friendly! No harm done or anything.

"Oh so you invited me to play basketball as another jab at my height? You think I would lose because you're like a giant?"

How did this girl manage to take every single thing you said and did the wrong way? "N, No... Of course not. I just wanted to try and—"

"You know what? I'll show you what I'm capable of. Maybe it'll teach you a thing or two, princess." Red declared, snatching the basketball from your hands.

Great. This was going wrong in every way! She took your invite as an insult and now it's a not-so-friendly match.

But nonetheless, it was official. The two of you played a one on one, and she was unsurprisingly amazing at it. She really was great at everything she did. And after a long time of dribbling, throwing, and blocking, it seemed like Red was finally going for the winning shot.

Just as she jumped, you stumbled after her to try and prevent the shot. The stumble was less than graceful, and while she technically made the shot and won, you still fell over and dragged her down with you.

"Ow—!" You heard the girl beneath you groan in pain after the hard thud against the ground.

After regaining yourself in a moment, you quickly shot up and got off of her, "Oh my gosh! Red, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" You worriedly ask, reaching to try and help her up.

Red slowly sits up, swatting your hand away, "Yeah... I'm fine." She grunted. She tried stepping up to her feet before immediately recoiling back down from the pain in her ankle.

"Oh no no. You're hurt. I hurt you, I'm so sorry. Here, look, I'll make it better! Don't worry!" Without another word you scooped Red into your arms without much of a warning.

"Hey!" She yelled in protest.

You hurried her over to the bench and sat her down in it to which she immediately scooted away from you.

"I'm so sorry, Red. Let me heal it for you."

Red's expression suddenly shifted to one of confusion, "Heal?" She figured that was a weird word to use.

"Yeah..." You pulled the hair tie from your hair and let down your hair that was much longer than it looked when it was tied up. You crouched down but before you could hold your hair to the injury, Red scooted away again.

"Woah woah. What're you doing??" She asked, clearly still very confused.

You were mostly used to everyone knowing the qualities that you received from your mother, of course the girl from Wonderland had no idea about it. But you didn't quite piece that together, "Healing you..." You repeated, now confused by her confusion.

"Right... With your hair?" Her brows furrowed in confusion and judgment.

"Oh!" You then understood why she was confused, "Basically when my grandma was pregnant with my mom she was going to die, so they found a magic flower to heal her but then the magic flower gave my mom healing abilities, I also got those abilities when I was born. So now I have magic hair that glows and heals when I sing." You explained with a goofy grin, almost as if you were bragging.

Though Red didn't seem impressed. Actually, she looked at you like you were insane.

"Just... Trust me."

Finally she let you get closer. Your wrapped your hair around her sprained ankle and began to sing the healing incantation that your mother taught you. Slowly your hair begin to softly glow and Red stared in astonishment.

After you finished you unwrapped your hair and her ankle was fully healed.

"What the—" Red stuck her leg out and moved her ankle around as if to test if it was really okay, "How did you—?"

"Told you. Magic flower." You grinned up at her before standing back up.

"Woah..." She said in disbelief, staring at her magically healed ankle before her eyes darted towards you, "Will I get super strength in my ankle now or something?"

You chuckled and shook your head, "No... I don't think so."

"Man..." She muttered in disappointment.

Your smile slowly faded to a frown. You suddenly felt guilty again for hurting her physically and possibly her feelings, "I'm sorry again... I guess I should get going now..." You force a laugh, tying your hair back up.

Red went pretty silent for a moment before speaking again, "I just don't understand."

"Me either, honestly. The flower thing is kind of confusing. It's suppose to be a drop of the sun or something and—" You started to explain before the red headed girl interrupted you.

"No. That's not what I meant." She rolled her eyes, "I meant, why are you suddenly being so genuinely nice?" She asked with clear suspicion on her face.

Your own expression turned puzzled, "What do you mean suddenly? I've been trying to be your friend since we met."

Has she seriously not caught on this whole time? You always talk to her and try to be nice, how could she not have known? It's all you've been trying to do for the past month or so.

"Really?" She seemed unconvinced, "You? Miss princess trying to be friends with the girl no one likes from Wonderland? I always hear your friends whispering about me. You're just one of those kids who thinks she's being funny by trying to befriend the 'weird kid'." Red said with a little bit of a snarl. She seemed pretty convinced there was no way you were ever genuine before.

Your eyes widened slightly at the bold assumption. Your friends whisper about her? Your friends know you think she's cool... They've never said anything bad about her before... "Red, I was always genuine. You're the exact person I want to be friends with! You're cool, smart, talented, insanely gorgeous." You listed off on your fingers, that last descriptor slipping out on accident, making your face suddenly burn in embarrassment. "Forget that last part..." You mutter.

Red laughs. That was probably the first time you actually heard her genuinely laugh. It wasn't mocking or mean, it was genuine. Man, you could get addicted to a laugh like that.

"Well. I guess I was a little harsh to you... You're pretty cool too, I guess." She smirked, nudging you with her elbow, "And pretty cute."

"Shut up." Your face only heated up more and you buried it in your hands, making Red's smirk grow. "So... We're cool now?" You ask, peaking from behind the hands covering your face.

Red hummed in thought, tapping her chin, "Mayyybe... If you can beat me in another one on one without spraining my ankle, I'll consider it." She winked.

You chuckled. Who could deny that? "It's a deal. Don't get too excited when I win." You teased with a grin.

After all this time, you were finally able to get along with the beautiful VK from Wonderland. Her sassy attitude, bad girl look, and insane skill only made you fall on your face for her. You couldn't help but fluster just at the thought of her... This was a crush you had a feeling would go away so easily.

[disastrouscanasta]

Happy Happy Happy exchange day to my new pal @guarnerepdf, whom I very unfortunately accidentally revealed my identity to, but the point of the exchange is to interact, and we did plenty of that :)

As such, here is part one of your gift, aka the fic portion!

(part 2, aka the completely unrelated web weave)

***

No One Can Deny by Disastrous_Canasta on Ao3

***

Rating: T / Pairing: Luztoye & Bill/Fran / Bill Guarnere CENTRIC. Man this was just about him, I'll be honest / 3769 words

Joe was a long suffering bastard, though. The sonofabitch wouldn’t bring it up first in any universe. It was Bill’s job to pry it out of him, not as his senior NCO, but as his friend.

“You’d tell me if something was the matter, wouldn’t ya?” He asked, sincere and as patient as he could manage.

OR

Bill has known Joe Toye for years, through thick and thin, from Georgia all the way to Belgium and back to the States. It's not lost on him that his friend is acting differently.

***

He’d gotten so used to looking out for the other guys on the front lines, Bill didn’t even realise he was doing it, not anymore.

Bill scoured every letter that passed through his hands, every phone call, every mention, every little visit from the other guys, just to be sure. They weren’t in danger now, not from shellings, bullets or the like. But civilian life posed its own challenges, Bill knew that more than anyone else.

Somehow, it still surprised him when Joe Toye of all people started acting strange. Strange was an odd word, especially when it came to Joe. He wasn’t jumping at the walls or anymore determined than he usually was– And Bill would know, he’d spent months on end sitting in a hospital bed next to the fucker– he was just… Strange.

“You’re not making any sense.” Fran told him over coffee, the morning he tried to explain it. “Are you sure the doctor’s didn’t forget to put a piece of metal in your brain?”

“Oh, har-har.” He said, skewering a piece of scrambled eggs with his fork. They were perfect, lightly salted, fluffy, warm, nothing like the Army rations had been. Shacking up with Fran had been good for a lot of things, true love, for one, good cooking for another. “You’ll fit right in with the guys, with that attitude.”

“I plan to.” Fran sipped from her cuppa, still piping hot, the way she liked it, one spoonful of sugar, no milk. “What’re you on about?”

“Joe Toye. He’s acting all weird!”

“He seemed fine last I saw him.” Fran said. Bill had invited Joe over for dinner and beer last Thursday, just like he always did. And Joe accepted, just like he always did. Still waiting on their army pensions, there wasn’t much else for them to do. “Just as grouchy.”

“See! That’s the thing, he’s grouchy, sure. But there’s something else to it.”

“What else?”

“Hell, I dunno!”

Fran shot him a look from behind her cup as she took another drink. How that thing didn’t burn all the way down, Bill had no idea. He stirred his own coffee, equal parts milk and sugar.

“I’m sure you’re right.” Fran conceded.

“I’ll have him over.” Bill said. “When can we have him over?”

Fran didn’t even bother to look up at the quaint little calendar that was hung up on the kitchen wall. “Thursday.”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

**

“Have I got something on my face?” Joe asked, after a long, drawn out moment between them. They were sitting at the kitchen table, Bill’s favourite place for conversations like this, it seemed. They’d had a roast beef for dinner, all three of them, but Fran had wandered away at some point to leave Bill alone with Joe. They hadn’t coordinated it, but it was well executed. Sometimes Bill genuinely wondered if Fran should have employed her skills for the good of the Nation– she could have been a spy, a WAC, hell, she could have jumped into Normandy with the best of them.

“No,” Bill said. He thought long and hard, scanning Joe’s face for any signs of obvious discomfort, resignation, or anything that could give him away.

“You’re just gonna keep looking at me like that?”

When Bill didn’t answer, Joe just sighed, dropping his gaze down to the bottle of beer that Bill had given him. A few years at war with a fellow got you awfully relaxed, even around any weird tendencies. He’d shared a foxhole with Joe once or twice, showered next to him. Things that wouldn’t fly with other folks barely made soldiers bat an eye.

Maybe it was something superficial, in that case, it was part of Bill’s responsibility as Joe’s T. Sergeant– Well, not anymore. But something about it still lingered. If Joe was hurting, if there was something wrong, some shrapnel left under his skin, something wrong with his amputation– Well, Bill couldn’t let that go unaddressed.

Joe was a long suffering bastard, though. The sonofabitch wouldn’t bring it up first in any universe. It was Bill’s job to pry it out of him, not as his senior NCO, but as his friend.

“You’d tell me if something was the matter, wouldn’t ya?” He asked, sincere and as patient as he could manage.

“Sure.” Joe shrugged noncommittally, still staring down the neck of his bottle.

“Joe, you’d tell me, right?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Joe.”

“Goddamnit, yes, fine.” Joe huffed, finally looking up to meet his eyes. “You’d be the first to know.”

“That’s good to hear, buddy.” Bill said proudly. He was Joe’s best friend, no matter the circumstances. “Ever need anything, just let me know. I’ll get it sorted for ya.”

“Thanks.” Joe said it quietly, a little gruffer than you’d expect from anyone else, but this was Joe Toye. Gruff and quiet was his way of being sincere. What a weirdo.

A thought struck Bill, then. “Have you got anyone else?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He could already hear the edge in Joe’s voice.

“No– All I’m saying is–” He sighed, taking a moment to collect himself. “You talk to any of the other guys?”

Bill had plenty. He kept up regular letters with everyone– He had to, at the moment. It was his responsibility to keep these damn things coordinated, otherwise their upcoming reunion would fall apart at the seams.

But even aside from that, he wrote to his friends, war buddies, if you will. Babe lived a couple blocks away, they met up sporadically, he got regular letters from Don Malarkey, one every month from Lipton, and every once in a while he’d get something from Buck, Luz, Garcia, Roe– unexpectedly, indeed, Talbert, Grant– now that he was doing better, Shifty, etc. He kept up with as many as he could.

Joe, on the other hand, wasn’t quite the social butterfly.

“Yeah.” Joe said dismissively. “A few. What about it?”

“Nothing.” Bill shrugged, light and airy as he could. He’d done damage control with Joe before, when both of them were torn up, hanging onto sanity by a string in those sterile hospital rooms, back in those early days, reeling from the changes which had been thrust upon them in the blink of an eye. He was better at it, now.

“It’s hard when you’re breathing down my neck.” Joe said, loosening up a bit, slipping into a more casual tone. “I don’t think I could shake you if I tried.”

“Oh, don’t think you’re getting away from me anytime soon.” Bill said, reassured for the moment.

**

“You don’t think he’s gonna flake on me, do you?” He asked Fran a few days later. He was helping her fix up their little garden. A new house was what he’d saved most of his army wages to buy, and it helped that her family had chipped in as a wedding present, even if they’d been unsure at first.

It was an adjustment, that’s for sure, living with one leg. Maybe that was Joe’s issue, maybe he had his sights set on some girl, maybe it was a problem with the leg! That was something Bill could understand, he could help him navigate it, he’d done it himself!

But, no. If Joe was interested in someone, there was no way that Bill wouldn’t know about it. They were birds of a feather, peas in a pod– either Joe would tell him, or Bill would know it, intuitively. That’s how close they were.

And anyway, the only folks Joe talked to nowadays were his 80-year-old neighbour, a widowed Mrs. Greenwall, and a few fellas from Easy. No bombshell blondes in that equation for Joe to set his sights on.

“Flake? Why would he flake?” Fran asked. She was elbow deep in soil from their brand new planter. It was a housewarming gift from Buck, especially late, considering they’d moved in 5 months earlier, but excused because he only just got into town.

“Well, you know how he can be.” Bill shrugged. He’d offered Fran some help, a few times, but she seemed determined to do it herself. It saved Bill the hassle of washing muck out of the creases of his hands, at least. He swore he’d just finally gotten dirt from France out from under his fingernails.

“He’s quiet, but he’s honest.” Fran grunted, filling the planter and adjusting the soil, evening it out. Bill didn’t envy her, if he was being frank. “He’s not the flaking type.”

“You’re right. I love the guy to bits, but goddamnit if he doesn’t make it hard to read him sometimes.”

“Have you asked him outright?”

“Yeah, just about. As well as I could.”

“Are you sure?”

“You try asking Joe Toye what’s wrong with him, see how far that gets you.”

“Fine, maybe I will.” Fran sat up to look at Bill properly, something challenging in her eyes. She wiped her forehead with her hand, smearing dirt on her temple, just below the red band she wore, tied around her hair. She was a looker, that was sure, even with all the muck. “Joe likes me better, anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Bill laughed. He stood up, perching himself on his crutches to lean forward and press a peck to her lips. “I like you better, too.”

“You have to, that was in the vows.”

“Oh, was it, now?”

Her hands were on his shoulders, wrapping around him to bring them together. Fran was getting his collar, his shirt and his hair all ruined, but for now, with the comfort of their porch in the late Pennsylvanian summer, things weren’t so bad.

**

How Fran had talked Joe Toye into showing up so early to the venue, Bill wasn’t sure he’d ever understand.

Joe was a helpful guy, sure, but he wasn’t fit as a fiddle as of current. How he was expected to carry boxes and get everything ready, Bill wasn’t sure. He wasn’t even doing that work himself, he’d fooled the poor idiots who came to meet him in his home a few days before the reunion. Don and Buck would have a great time catching up, so long as they could talk and set up a banquet-hall’s worth of chairs at the same time.

If there was one person Bill was sure could do so, it was George Luz, who showed up not long after the rest of them.

“Joe said you needed help with stuff. I’ve been roped in, unfortunately.” He said after a joyful greeting. It was Luz, what else would you expect?

“Joe’s been talking to you, huh?” Bill said. He wasn’t close with George, but they weren’t distant, neither. They just kind of were.

“Yeah, since he got taken off the line.” George blinked. “Same as you.”

“Right.” They had exchanged a few letters– keyword: few. Bill was chattier with the other guys, and George was surprisingly hard to talk to through writing. He was an in-person guy, Bill had gathered the moment he received his first short, awkward letter at the hospital.

“Is he here?” George asked.

“He’s busy, Fran’s got him working on seating arrangements.” It wasn’t a job for Joe Toye, but it did give Fran plenty of time to ask him all she wanted. “In the meantime, why don’t you get at it, help the Lieutenant over there move that table.”

Buck looked up, having been mentioned, waved at George and shouted something. George shouted back a greeting, smiled at Bill and took up his slack. If army boys had one thing going for them, it was a penchant for getting a job done when they were asked.

Bill had a chance in charge, for once. Getting to boss around his former officer, and he was not letting it go to waste.

** “You’ve been writing to Luz?” Bill asked Joe, later that day. They’d gotten everything sorted, more people had shown up, and the two of them had popped back to Bill’s for some last minute pickups and adjustments.

Fran hadn’t gotten through to Joe, unfortunately. Though neither of them were truly surprised, Joe Toye was a tough cookie.

“Yeah, every once in a while.” Joe said. “He writes to all of us.”

“You talked to him yesterday, though?” Bill remembered what George had said, the reason he’d shown up early in the first place, because Joe had told him they needed help with things. Well, that was a bit suspicious, if you asked him.

Joe hummed an affirmative.

“When?” Bill asked, because he couldn’t let a subject like that drop for the life of him, especially not now.

“He came over. We had a couple drinks.” Joe shrugged. “Why does it matter?”

For one thing, Luz had never come over to Bill’s, even though Bill’s reunion was the only reason Luz was in Philly in the first place. And second of all, Bill hadn’t thought Luz was that close with Toye.

“Is this a new thing?”

“New thing? It’s not any type of thing. He just wanted to talk. It’s Luz, what else could you expect?”

Wasn’t that the truth. Luz was a chatterbox if ever there was one.

“How’s he doing?”

“As well as any of us, I’m sure.” Joe adjusted his pant leg, pulling it down properly over his prosthetic. He was debuting his new leg for the first real time in public, especially in front of all of Easy Company– the ones who’d RSVP’d of course– and he didn’t seem quite as confident as he could have.

“Stop fiddling with it, it’s gonna be fine.” Bill promised. They were waiting for Fran to loop around in their car to come get them and the boxes of stuff they’d remembered to bring. It gave Toye plenty of time to agonise over his leg.

“I think it’s sitting weird.” Joe winced. They both knew that it wasn’t really painful, just uncomfortable. There were a few reasons why Bill was foregoing it, in exchange for his trusted pair of wooden crutches. They were strong, sturdy and didn’t chafe.

Joe, on the other hand, was a little bit more under-the-radar. He wanted to draw less attention to the missing limb. He wasn’t ashamed of it, exactly. But Bill knew where he was coming from. Sometimes it got tiring, answering questions, feeling people’s eyes on you. Bill was used to it, he didn’t mind the attention so much, But Joe had never been quite so open.

“You look great.” Bill said, once Joe had successfully readjusted the socket. “I’m serious, you’re… all dressed up.”

“I’m not dressed up. No more than everyone else will be.” Joe was wearing a loose suit, something new, that’s for sure. Looked like he could wear it to a job interview, maybe even a fancy dinner. Something better than meeting up with old buddies who’d seen him stripped down to his worst. He’d styled his hair, too, polished his shoes. Bill’s jacket wasn’t quite so high quality, and had been a staple of his wardrobe since before the war– he was lucky he still fit into it.

“Y’don’t have to be so worried about seeing everyone again.” Bill patted him once on the shoulder, solid and companionable. “They’re just happy to see you on your feet.”

“I’m happy to see any of them.”

Bill paused, looking for something substantial enough to say, but in the end he settled on honesty. “Me too, buddy. Me too.”

**

The reunion, for all intents and purposes, was a success. Bill celebrated the sentiment with champagne– gifted to him by Captain Nixon, who hadn’t shown up, but had sent his regards with a bottle of something expensive. Bill and Fran were both appreciative, they drank it over dinner.

At a certain point, the table arrangements that Fran had made up (with the help of Joe, supposedly. Though Bill still believed that he’d done nothing of the sort, and had sat there diligently and listened to Fran’s questions.) had been abandoned, and it was a free for all. Bill had started the night with Babe, Joe and Malarkey sitting at his little table with Fran, then at some point, Malarkey had gone off to sit with Perconte, Talbert and Luz, then those three, and subsequently many members of E Company had come to thank Bill for his hard work. It felt well-earned.

“People don’t realise how much effort goes into these things.” Bill said, who’d started understanding it for himself a few weeks prior.

“I’m sure.” Buck Compton said. “It’s tough to manage the military in the military, let alone pack them all into one building for fun.”

“Exactly!” Bill smiled. He was a bit tipsy, though a lot of the feeling came from the warmth of reunion. The chance to see his friends again. It was one thing to know they’d survived and come back unscathed, it was another to see them before him, eating and talking and laughing like nothing had ever happened.

There were things he didn’t bother mentioning to Compton, for example the hassle it had been to get a venue he could get into easily. Guys like him and Joe needed a little help now and then, and it was received better by both of them if it was Bill doing the helping, by avoiding the obstacles all together.

Fran had her hand in the crook of Bill’s elbow, a warm, reassuring weight through the whole night. At a certain point, Buck got up to mill about, Babe had gone off to chat up one of the medics, and all of the others had flocked away from the table. This included Joe.

Joe sat off on a table against the wall all by himself. He nursed a glass of beer as he looked out on the crowd.

“I’m gonna go talk to him.” Bill decided. He moved to stand, but Fran gripped his arm.

“He’ll be fine, Bill.” She said.

“Well.” Bill muttered. “I guess he will. I still don’t like it, though.”

“Maybe he needs some time to himself, who knows?”

“Or he feels like shit.” Bill pointed out, but he turned to face her anyway. “I don’t know what happened to me. Wild Bill, huh?”

“You matured.” She told him. Fran wore a soft smile, Bill reciprocated it when she kissed his cheek. “You’re plenty wild. I’ve heard the stories from Babe.”

“Don’t listen to anything Babe Heffron tells you.”

She laughed, loud and bright. “I’ll take it with a grain of salt.”

Bill kept his eyes trained on her, taking in the moment. He was high off of the feeling of accomplishment and warm from the glee of it all. Easy Company gathered together once more, who woulda thunk it?

Where would they go from here, he wondered? What else was there, after the war, after the reunion. For him it was a beautiful wife and a lovely house, for others, it was work. How could someone go back to another job after they’d parachuted into France?

Joe was thinking of moving out of Philly, to settle back where he grew up, in a small town a hundred miles away. He was going to look for a job working around mines, even though he couldn’t very well be knee deep in coal anymore, working away with a pickaxe like he used to (when Bill imagined it, he couldn’t help but think of a comic strip from the newspaper, people still worked in mines? Even when they could be out and about, embracing the new age?) 

“You’re thinking about Joe again, aren’t you.” Fran said, though she didn’t look disappointed. Just sort of amused and unsurprised.

“Yeah, I am.”

“You’re worried about him.”

“No one knows him better than me, I guarantee you that.” Bill pointed out. He was Joe Toye’s… best friend, as childish as it was. Hell, they’d fought tooth and nail together to survive, they were allowed to be a little juvenile when it came to stuff like that. Brothers of war, and all that.

“I’m sure.”

“Why’re you doing that with your face, then?”

“What?”

“Raising the eyebrow, like you don’t believe me.”

“I’m not.”

“You are, you definitely are.” Bill squinted at her. “You really don’t think I know him?”

“I think you do. I just think you have competition for knowing him the most.”

She pointed to the table off in the corner, where Joe had been sitting by himself not moments before. Now, unexpectedly, George Luz was tucked up in the chair opposite him, speaking low and gesturing as he talked. Joe looked completely and entirely focused. Even from where he was sitting, Bill could see the softness in his eyes.

“He looks like you, right now.” Fran said.

“What?”

“The look in his eyes, it’s the way you look at me.”

Bill blinked. What.

“Nah, it can’t be.” Bill squinted at them.

“What can’t be?”

“I’m just–” Bill shook his head, turning back to Fran. “It’s not important.”

She eyed him again, “You’d better not mess that up.”

“I won’t.” Bill said defensively. “I’m not sure what it is… But you know me.”

“I do. You’d better not say a word to them.”

“I won’t.”

Bill cast a sideways look off at Joe, he couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but he heard the soft tones of George’s voice. It made sense, really. Bill hadn’t seen it coming, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t true. Joe was his friend. If Bill was to dwell on it, he'd find himself focusing on the fact that he'd missed so many indications. That didn't make him feel too great.

“You’re so damn observant.” Bill said to Fran, looking to drop the subject like a hot coal. Que sera, sera, and all that. Wasn't up to him any longer what Luz and Toye got up to. All he knew was that he'd be inviting Joe over for beers just the same that Thursday night. They were paratroopers, for god's sake, that meant more than... well, he wasn't sure. He was Joe's friend, though. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“I don’t know how you don’t. He mentioned George to me about five times.”

“That cheeky fucker.” Bill said, and then he startled. “I’m still used to the army. Sorry.”

“I’ll survive.” Fran said, leaning in close. “It’s not like any of these fellows have the cleanest words.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re used to it, because I’m planning to have another one next year.”

Fran rolled her eyes, but she gave him a peck on the lips, which Bill counted as a success.

***

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :)

[bigsnzstanacct]

I revised that F/ellow Tr/avelers fic so I’m reposting it AND I reserve the right to re-re-post it when I add more to it, because I want a prologue with Hawk at the office trying to work and sneezing loud as fuck in his office (and then eventually part two with Hawk and Tim’s day as Hawk’s cold settles into his nose and they sneeze and fuck all day, basically.)

“HHHHHEEEEEAAAAASSSSSHHHHHHHhhhhooooooo!!” He announced his presence with a sneeze, a nearly-shouted roar that sputtered out into a quieter, albeit wetter, finish.

“Skippy…!” He called out, faux-anger threaded through his voice. “You’re in trouble now, Skippy!”

Said “Skippy”, also known as Tim Laughlin, peeked his head out of one of the apartment’s bedrooms, chest bare, nostrils pinkened at the rims, face still full of the evidence of the cold he was still getting over—and that Hawkins was just falling into. “Huh, Hawk? Me, in trouble?” Tim’s mock-innocence the response to Hawk’s faux-angry call. They both knew this dance, and loved it.

Hawkins was on him suddenly, grabbing the thinner man in his arms and kissing him with intent. “Yeah, big trouble. You heard that sn-sneeze didn’t you?”

“Yeah, me and most of DC, you moose. Last time I heard a noise like that I was at the National Zoo.”

“Me? A moose? You’re just adding to the trouble you’re in, aren’t you?”

“Always do.” Tim said with a smirk, leading Hawkins into the bedroom, where he sat, limbs splayed alluringly. They were silent a moment, just holding each other’s gaze. Until Hawkins’ started to waver, a hand drifting idly up towards his nose. Tim’s smirk widened. “So what am I in trouble for, Mister Fuller?”

“You—snf!—you know what you’re in t-trouble for, you—snf!—y-you dirty little thing you, you gave me your… your hehhhhh… hehHHH…” his broad bare chest leapt with the urge. “your HHEHHHHhhh… gonna…!” The barest flicker of warning, before the inevitable was bouncing off the walls and making the windows rattle in their casements: “AAAEEEEHHHHHRRRSSCHHOOOOOO!” He bellowed. “Damn, sorry about that Skippy… never did figure out how to keep that qui… quiet… here’s a… gotta… notherone…! Huhhh! HUUUUURRRRRSSSCCCHOOOOOO!!!” Tim playfully covered his ears, smiling up at Hawk and sniffing himself.

“Awwww… did big bad Hawkins catch a little cold in his nose?” He teased. “Is that why you’re making all that racket? Just cause of little old me?” They’d been turning the tables more lately, but somehow they always found themselves back in this position: Hawkins towering above his Skippy, Skippy sitting on the bed, looking up at Hawk with at least two contradictory emotions in his eyes. At first, desire and terror. In the bad times, love and hate. In the best times—like now—naked adoration and stubborn defiance. An unwillingness to break and an insistence on being broken. That look stirred the most dangerous parts of Hawkins, in the most delightful ways.

Hawkins drew closer, lifted Tim’s chin, mostly so he could place his big hands near Tim’s neck. “Yeah… you made me sick, you little ball of germs. If you weren’t always sneezing and snotting all over this apartment, maybe I’d still be able to do my very important job.”

Tim just held Hawkins’ gaze. “Seem to recall you not minding that sn-sneezing and snotting at a-all… speaking of wh… which…” Hawk smiled. Sometimes it seemed like Tim was allergic to the very word “sneeze.” Between the poor guy’s seemingly omnipresent allergies and the lingering cold in his nose, it seemed like he’d spent all of the last week either sneezing or on the verge of a big, messy sneezing fit.

“Hhhhh… hhhettcchhOOO! Hhhh-hehhhh! EEETTttttt-chhooOOO! Wh-whoa bihhh… big one… hehhhh…. hhettschh… ettscchhooo… hehhshhooo… yyeeeEEttschooo... Ettssscchhhhh-OOO!” God, Tim’s sneezes drove Hawk wild. The little wet, itchy, rapid-fire ones that spilled out on top of each other, as though his nose was so crowded with sneezes he could hardly get one out before the next was fighting to escape; the ones that went all cutesy and high-pitched at the end, almost as though he was surprised his nose tickled so much, the pitch raising at the end like a question; the outright violent ones that seemed to hint at the strapping young man the army had made Skippy, the man the army sent home to Hawk.

And then there was how intensely itchy he looked, his nose wriggling and alive, like it was trying to escape his face, his whole face scrunching in and then suddenly everything wide open: mouth lolling, eyebrows climbing, nostrils flaring and then…

“EETTTsssscchhhh! EETTTSSsscchhh!! hehhhh… hahh-SHOOO!!”

And then it all started over again. And again. And AGAIN. It made Hawk breathless in a very different way than his own sneezes. It made him hunger, it made him want. It made him hard.

“Look what you did to me.” Hawk said, clutching at his thickness, the bulge visible through his slacks. Tim sniffed, eyes still misty, nose clearly note done with him. But he couldn’t help but notice that. “That’s what you’ve been doing to me all day. Making me sneeze, with your cold in my nose. Making me think about you sneezing, losing control, falling apart for me, so pretty.” He was getting greedy now, pawing at Tim, squeezing his ass, kissing at his neck. “Could barely get through work, you want them to find out I’m a double fuckin’ pervert?”

They each froze a moment, their still-precarious positions and the memory of the time when they were more precarious still a nearly-open wound. But then Tim sneezed again, soft and pliant: “hhcchhssss…. huh… hittscchh!” And Hawk’s eyes were on nothing but Skippy.

“Bless you,” he said, soft and dangerous; hungry and adoring.

And then slacks were coming off, mouth on mouth, mouth on neck, hands everywhere, fingers and spit right where they needed to be, oil and fingers and opening and then Hawk was behind Skippy on the bed, pressing into him, his weight on Skippy’s back, his hard length against the crack of Skippy’s ass, teasing his entrance. They were breathing heavy. For more reason than one.

“You still gotta…?” Hawk asked.

“All the t-time, Hhahhhh… Hawk…”

“Can you… while you ride me?”

“Isn’t that how you caught my cold in the first place?”

“Don’t care. Need it. All over me, please, Skippy.”

“Need it?” Skippy asked, turning around to look at Hawk, that soft-and-steel look in his eye.

“Need it.”

“So what are you gonna do for your boy? When he gives you what you need? Are you gonna give me what I need?”

“Anything.”

Tim turned around completely, facing Hawk, sitting back on his heels and wrapping a loose fist around Hawkins’ dick. “Don’t throw that word around Hawkins, you don’t mean it.”

It was all Hawk could do to keep himself from bucking into Tim’s fist. “N-No fair, Skippy.”

“Life’s not fair, H-hahhh… hahhhhhh…” Tim’s nose chose that moment to act up, but despite his body’s betrayal (his body’s endless betrayals, when it came to Hawk), Tim hadn’t given up the implicitly negotiated upper hand. He put a finger under his nose, pressed hard. “You w-want me to l-let this loose, don’t you?”

Hawk nodded, and suddenly looked so much like a puppy that Tim almost dissolved into giggles. Instead, he took his free hand from Hawkins’ dick to Hawkins’ chest.

“A-ahhh… all o-over you, yeah?” He pushed, and Hawkins fell back onto the bed.

Another nod.

“Stay with me tonight. Let me—snf!—take care of you.” He crawled over him, one finger still pressing underneath his itching nose.

Another nod.

Tim barely managed a quick “ohthankgod” before the floodgates opened.

“ettscchhh! yyetttschh! hetchhhh! ettcchhhhhh! huUUUHHhhhh… eeYYettschhOOO! Heyyyy-SHOOOO! huhhh… eeeeYYESHH-OOOO! Ah!” They started fast and furious, grew luxurious and free and messy as the lingering cold sneezes in Tim’s nose took over. He ended on a sharp exhale, as he sank onto Hawk. It had taken some practice, learning to take dick in the middle of a sneezing fit. But Tim was a very, very fast learner. And he had an excellent motivation: seeing Hawk like this. Spread out under him, wrecked and open, more even than he was when Tim was inside of him, Hawk’s pupils blown wide, nothing else in his mind but Skippy, Skippy, Skippy, Skippy’s nose, Skippy’s ass, Skippy’s chest, Skippy’s wet eyes, closing… closing again as his head tipped back and…

“eeYYYYYEETTSSCCHH-OOO! Oh! Bless me.” Tim murmured. It was easy, now that Hawk was inside him. He barely made any effort to move, knowing too much would send Hawk over the edge early. No, he just let his body have free rein. His sneezes always tended to make him double over or bend at the waist, he just gave himself over to them freely, letting the urges in his nose move his body.

Hawk keened beneath him. “Fuck, fuck, big one Skippy, fuck…”

Tim managed to snark around the urge: “is that a rehhhh… requeahhh… AAAAHHTTSCCHHOOOOOOO-UHH!!” Tim sure acted like it was a request, his voice falling fully into the sneeze in a way it rarely did. Hardly a duplicate of Hawk’s beastly roars, but definitely on the loud side for Tim, tearing out of his throat like Hawk’s desire was a physical thing, had reached in and ripped it out of him. It was often like that for Tim, as though the sheer force of Hawk’s wanting made Tim’s body capable of things he didn’t know it could do.

“Shit, Skip, I’m not gonna last…”

“Shhhhh… d-don’t… don’t… aapppsshHHHH! Hahhh… ppllleesshhhhh!! EeeYYYYYeesscchhhhOOO!” The sneezes weren’t stopping, and they were only getting wetter, the bursts of spray on Hawk’s torso no sooner cooled than Tim replaced them with another.

Tim recovered with a firm sniff, in control enough to say, “don’t worry, we’ve got a while.”

[wicked-futures]

Project Minx [One]

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word-Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Misogynist creeps, Drug use

Summary: You are sent on a solo mission to track a rouge scientist to his supposed home base where he distributes drugs.

Notes: Since this is the first chapter, there is no Ghost yet... Sorry babes.

Read on AO3

People lined the street waiting to get into the club, most in varying states of intoxication. You felt out of place, not having been to a place like this in many years. The so-called ‘dress’ you were wearing did nothing to help. It was just a small piece of black fabric that left very little to the imagination. It made you feel incredibly exposed, even with the years of training you had stashed under your belt.

Somehow, you still had a pistol and a knife strapped onto your body. A chill breeze suddenly hit you, causing goosebumps to spread. A New York club in the dead of winter was not your forte, and you wanted to get this mission done as soon as possible.

The outside of “The Den” seemed like any other stereotypical dance club in the area. A basic black brick building, accompanied by blacked-out windows. Loud bass could be heard from the outside, which made you cringe internally. The constant loud background noise would make it hard for you to focus at points, especially when trying to listen to intel from your team.

Anything to get your paycheck and leave, maybe finally to take a vacation. After years of being under different contracts with different agencies, you were exhausted from the work. Yet you felt guilty for wanting to take that break since there was always another problem to be fixed. Always someone fucking up the world for the rest of everyone.

This time, it was a rouge Russian scientist. Dmitri Volkov, also known as “Wolf” had specialized in pharmaceutical sciences with their military. His career was spent researching different ways to make pain medications work faster for those on the field, and ways to help with shock. A year prior, he completely dropped off the radar.

Many ruled it suicide, but a body was never found. Authorities searched his labs, he was gone without a trace. Even odder, so was all of his working gear. Shortly after, people in the party scene in Russia started mass ODing. The drug was never found in people's systems, yet clear signs of overdosing were shown on their bodies.

Different groups sent in decoys to find the drug, or find any information on it. The off-white powder was sold in small baggies, with a wolf emblem etched onto them. Not many were aware of the ties of the ‘dead’ scientist and the drug, but that was where you fit in. It was your job to scope out the aptly named party club, “The Den.” As a partygoer, it was your job to weasel your way into the underground system. You needed to be trusted by the higher-ups and get to Volkov.

“Minx, do you copy?” The hidden earpiece spoke, jolting you from the surprise. The familiar voice of your partner helped with the nerves. Jessica Salvatore had been one of the only females in your basic training, and you stook together ever since. Even when you took the solo route when she found out you were involved with a mission, so was she.

Friends were rare to come by with your lifestyle, so you never took Jessica for granted. She knew you liked working alone but somehow weaseled her way into your ‘team’ and your life. 

“Affirmative, waiting for the club to open up. I’m freezing my tits out here Jess,” You heard a chuckle coming from the other side of the comms, making you roll your eyes. She wasn’t the one in stilettos outside a club, dressed sluttier than you ever had been in your life. Even during your party days, the outfits had never been this extreme.

“I can see you, by the way, don’t forget I also have a job to do,” She mentioned, and you could practically hear the sarcastic grin in her voice. By her words, you could bet the security cam system of the club was well into your team's possession by now.

If there is one thing Jessica “Cybernaut” Salvatore was known for was her expertise in computer systems and hacking. She spent most of her teenage years behind a screen, cracking codes and creating her own. She took interest in using her skills for military use instead of becoming an IT or whatnot. You thought that was blasphemous, as Jessica could be well off by now.

But that wasn’t her lifestyle, and neither was it yours. You were never that phenomenally interested in anything during high school, drifting from club to club. Granted you weren’t terrible at them either, but nothing ever stuck. All you know is you wanted to help people, and you were also extremely competitive. An existential crisis hit halfway through senior year, and you ended up joining the military.

You quickly found out what you had been missing all those years. Learning how to fight and use weapons filled some holes you had been missing in your life. With that newfound knowledge, you pushed yourself year after year. After thousands of hours of practice, your combat skills improved tremendously. You became a lethal weapon, paired with a pretty face. 

After a while, you got bored of it all. You needed a change in scenery, a different job perhaps. Multiple groups took interest in you, but you decided to be a lone contractor by yourself. This meant you picked what missions you went on, who to help, and when. It was stressful, especially with the high risks.

Most days you didn’t know if you were going to make it home alive. 

The name “Minx” was slapped onto you during one of your first missions. The name seemed stupid to you at first, even sexist. Yet, you learned to love it once you realized how you could use your beauty as a weapon. Deciding to not let it get to you, you knew the name had a double meaning. It was just a part of you, alluring yet dangerous.

You noticed the line starting to move, which made your nerves inch up a little bit. A lot was riding on your shoulders tonight, and you wanted to prove yourself. 

The height of your heel seemed lethal enough, you were surprised you could even walk in them. After most of your life spent in combat boots, tall stilettos were a massive change. Your feet hurt a little, but the cold numbed them slightly which you were thankful for. 

With the line moving, you could finally see the door to the club in front of you. You mentally went through all of the goals in your brain, making sure everything was sorted. You focused on what you needed to do, turning off the rest of your brain. The coldness and nervousness drifted away as you were put into a focused headspace.

The bouncer scanned your ID, making sure everything matched. There was no way he was going to know it was a fake, especially since it was made by some form of government. You didn’t care who you were working with, a job was a job. As long as you worked for the ‘good’ guys, all was well. You shot him an excited smile, hoping to play the part of a partygoer well. The bouncer glanced at your body before giving the ID back, shooting a creepy smile in your direction.

“Don’t have too much fun,” He winked, a flirty tone to his voice. You tried not to cringe at the man, instead nodding at him. A quick thanks was muttered from you, and then you were off. The club was already packed when you entered, people crowded in every nook and cranny. You thanked whatever god there was that you were trained for this type of situation, and knew what to do in case hell broke loose.

You took a spot at the bar and instantly looked around the club. The whole thing was very cliche, and looked like any other bar in New York. Ordering some random cocktail off of the menu, you did your best to blend in with the crowd. While mentally taking note of every possible exit, you noticed what looked like a regular partygoer come out of an unmarked door. It might have been innocent, but it piqued your interest anyway.

“Pick up the pace Minx, we haven't got all night.” A voice spoke into your earpiece. You fought the urge to roll your eyes, you couldn’t get the whole mission done in five minutes.

Finishing your drink, you decided to join the crowd on the dance floor. You needed to see this drug in action, and what its users looked like. The dance floor met you with people who were visibly intoxicated by either drugs or alcohol. A woman in front of you was dancing by herself, filling the air with giggles. The flashing lights and loud music obscured her appearance from you, but when you caught a glimpse of her it was hard to not stare.

She noticed you watching her after a moment, turning to face you as she smiled. The woman looked like a corpse who had wandered onto the dance floor. Her ghastly pale skin seemed as though it was going to flake off any moment, and her eyes were incredibly sunken in. Even with the state of her appearance, the woman looked like she was having the time of her life.

Her eyes seemed lively yet so incredibly dead at the same time, the stark contrast threatening shivers down your spine. She was a living zombie, as were many others around her. You looked away for a moment, noticing many others that looked exactly like her. A piece of your brain clicked, remembering the symptoms of those on the drug.

Whatever was in this drug was killing people from the inside out.

“You’re really pretty, what's your name?” The corpse woman slurred, her uncomforting stare meeting yours. You smiled in return, giving her your fake name for the night. She told you her name was Becca, and she invited you to dance for a while.

“Are you bored?” She asked, her drugged gaze freezing you in your place. You nodded in response, hoping this was the lead you needed. Becca took your hand into her cold and clammy one, yanking you off of the dance floor. The earpiece you wore crackled to life again as you were whisked around the club.

“Do what she says, we’ll get you out of there if need be,” Jessica spoke, the farewell message leaving a sour note on your tongue. You decided to ignore it and noticed the woman brought you to the unmarked door you saw earlier. She turned around and opened the door, ushering you in. 

The pitch-black stairway was lined with rainbow LEDs, switching between different colors. You thanked the lights for being there as you tottered down the stairs, being led by Becca. For a moment, you let your mind wander. You wondered what the young girl's life was like, especially before she got hooked on the drug. Did she have a family? A significant other? Did she abandon it all for her addiction? The thought gave you goosebumps, and you immediately went back on track

“So what have you done before?” Becca asked when you entered the basement. The whole thing was massive, looking like a whole separate club. The landscape was different, giving off a much darker vibe. The people in the basement also looked different from the rest of the clubgoers, many of them visibly rich.

“Not much, I did coke once if that counts,” You responded, trying to seem interested in the whole ordeal. It was hard to focus on the girl in front of you when there was a whole black market happening in front of you, the dangerous drugs being passed around like candy.

“This is gonna be so much better,” Becca smiled at you, and chills ran down your back. Her uneasy stare, her lifeless eyes, she looked soulless. Becca held out her hand to you before waving a man over, expecting you to pay. You pulled a twenty out of your bra and gave it to her as she grinned, visibly excited for her next hit. 

She exchanged with the man, giving you the small tablet. The size of the drug was concerning, it was minuscule. It was shocking to you how small it was, and how much damage that tiny thing could do. Remembering what Jessica said, you hesitantly took the drug. You knew there were about five minutes before it started setting in, so you had to get out as soon as possible. 

The last thing you remembered of that night was feeling incredibly nauseous and dizzy.

“Good morning,” A voice called from a few feet away as you finally came too. You felt as if you got hit by a semi-truck, maybe a few of them. A migraine ravaged your head, and the rest of your body felt like sludge.

“They did some tests on your blood, there's some scary shit in that drug Minx.” Flickering your eyes to the voice, you noticed Jess was sitting next to you while typing on a computer. She had a bunch of her gear and overall looked exhausted. You reckoned that you probably looked worse, having been drugged.

You didn’t ask questions about how you got out of the club, but you also didn’t care since you made it out safely. There were other objectives to worry about, like Volkov himself. He was never shown inside the club, even though that was tipped off as his headquarters. The scientist was smart, he could’ve been anywhere. 

You were disappointed in yourself for not finding out more information other than securing the drug itself. It felt as if there was more you could’ve done, more contributions you could’ve added. Sitting silent in the bed for a moment, you contemplated what was going to happen next.

With security cam footage and audio recordings to back you up, you could prove how big of an issue the drug was becoming. After the testing, it was clear what was in the drug itself and how it was so addictive and dangerous. Jessica typed on her computer for a little while longer, leaving the room in silence. You assumed she was finishing the review on the mission, letting the higher-ups know you were alive and well. She sighed as she heard her phone buzzing, excusing herself into the hallway for a second.

Hospitals were nothing new to you, a painful memory of a life before. Nights spent sobbing next to a bed, praying to whatever god would listen. When your mother died, a piece of you died with her. You just hoped she was proud of what you made of yourself.

“I’ve got news for you,” Jessica re-entered the room with a grim expression on her face. You expected something extremely bad or unfortunate based on the last 24 hours.

“Higher-ups think this Volkov shit is getting way too out of hand, thinks we can’t finish it alone. They’re gonna do some more digging themselves, but in the meantime they want us to team up with a task force.” The news wasn’t all that terrible to you, more of a nuisance than anything. It had been so long since you worked with others that weren’t directly associated with you, so the idea of meeting a new group excited you.

“They’re gonna send us some info on the group ASAP, you’ll probably be up and ready to go by then. If we want to continue working on this case, we can’t do it alone.” The short timeline wasn’t anything new to you. You were used to a fast-paced lifestyle, never staying in one place long. You raised yourself into a sitting position, ignoring the protest of your limbs.

“Well, let's get started then.”

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Love Through the Pages | Chapter 6

Masterlist

Synopsis: Bob Floyd isn’t the man you typically find in a love story. His awkward mannerism and unusual ways don’t make him the typical heart throb, but Bob certainly has his charms. He finds love in an unexpected place when he finds a hidden message in a book that changes his life for ever. He meets the girl of his dreams but true love is not always an easy road and can they survive the ups and downs that life throws at them.

Warnings: 18+, potential slow burn, mentions of injuries and hospitals, language, smut, 18+, swearing. Nothing too specific for this chapter.

Dear Bookshop Girl,

It sounded like a very fitting name for you and I’m not sure who else to address this to. First of all I’d like to say thank you for the book. I found it uplifting, although I don’t know whether I’d have been as brave as the Pevensie children. I’d also like to praise you on your ingenious code, it had me stumped for nights and I was losing sleep over it. Somehow cracking it was all I could think of. I’d like to learn more about you. What do you like and dislike? Your favorite food? What job do you have? I have so many things I want to ask you, to get to know the real you. I thought I’d share a little something about myself. My name is Bob. Well my full name is Robert, but only my Gran calls me that, so I feel like it’s weird for anyone else to call me Robert. What’s your name? I want to get to know you more, Bookshop Girl. Yours sincerely Your Code Breaker

You smiled down at the crumpled letter in your hand. You’d read it over and over, feeling the words seeping into your soul like the ink on the page. Bob’s words swam through your mind at every waking moment and accompany your dreams. You’d been trying to write a reply, you wanted to tell him everything, how much you desperately wanted to meet him, but that would have ruined the mystery of it all. So far all you had was ‘Dear Bob’, but that didn’t make for much of a letter. You sighed, placing the letter down on the table.

“Still no luck?” Bradley asked, looking up from his laptop.

“No,” you groaned, placing your head against the table.

“Well, good job you’ve got me here,” Bradley turned the computer screen towards you smiling. “It’s only a draft so you can add and change what you like, but I thought it was a start.”

Your face broke into a wide grin and you pulled your friend in for a hug.

“Thank you, Bradshaw.”

“Anytime, Love.” You and Bradley continued to work on the letter for the rest of the afternoon. You wanted it to be perfect. It seemed strange to think that you had never met this man and yet you wanted to pour your heart and soul into a letter for him. You managed to restrain yourself, keeping things simple. Bradley headed home shortly after and you continued to work on your letter to Bob. The more you wrote about yourself the more you felt connected to him.

Dear Bob,

It was so lovely to receive your reply the other day. I had almost lost hope that you wouldn’t write back. My name is y/n and I’m an ER nurse. I wanted to be a nurse since I was very young as my brother spent a lot of time at the hospital. Considering we met because of a book you can probably tell that I enjoy reading. Narnia has been one of my favourite books since I was a child, so I’m really glad you enjoyed it. I’d love to learn more about you Bob. Tell me what makes you an individual, Bob. I look forward to hearing from you soon. Yours Sincerely Bookshop Girl

Elated that you’d finished your letter, you sealed it neatly and planted a small kiss on the envelope, leaving a lipstick mark. You placed the letter carefully into your bag.

—————————————————————————-As the weeks went by the letters came and went. You learnt that Bob was a personal assistant to some high up boss of a newspaper company. You learnt about his parents and his sister and you loved the stories of his grandmother.

You told Bob about your family and your brother. You told him about his cancer and how that had cemented your choice to become a nurse. The more you talked the more you found yourself falling for him.

You’d never felt like this about anyone before and even Bradley could see the change in you. The way you smiled as you read his letters and the way you were so excited when talking about him. Jake saw the same change in Bob. He no longer seemed to walk around like a shadow but had a new lease of life. Jake even found the letters from you tucked under Bob’s pillow. ——————————————————————————The bookshop's opening night was coming around quickly and Jake and Bradley decided to make a plan. “I can’t take it anymore, Bradley. They need to meet each other. I’ve never seen Bob so in love.” Bradley smiled at his boyfriend. “Me neither. It’s like she’s a completely different person. I haven’t seen her this happy since her brother died.” The two decided to create a meet cute. “Bob loves rom coms and is a hopeless romantic, so this is perfect. Meeting the girl of his dreams at a bookshop. There will be music so they can dance and food. It’s perfect, Bradley.” “Don’t worry, Jake. I have the perfect plan.” ——————————————————————————

Bradley had been harassing you all week about what you were going to wear to the open night. “I don’t know, Brad. I was debating whether to wear that green dress I wore last year to my work’s Christmas party.”

“What!” Bradley choked on his coffee, spluttering the warm liquid down his shirt. “You can’t wear that,” he gasped. “It’s not at all sexy.”

You raised your eyebrow at him. “Brad, it’s a bookshop opening night, I don’t think there’s going to be anything remotely sexy about it.”

“Babydoll, trust me, please. You gotta look sexy.” He thumbed his way through the clothes in your wardrobe, pulling faces at some of them before pulling out a red dress. It was short and had a low cut neckline. “This is it. This is the one,” Bradely thrust the dress towards you.

“No Brad, I can’t wear this. It was an impulse buy, I’ve never even worn it…”

“Which is why this is perfect. If you're not turning up in this dress then I’ll wear it myself.”

You laughed at the thought of Bradley trying to squeeze into the red dress. Bradely looked at you sternly and you buckled. “Ok, fine. I’ll wear the dress.”

Bradley pulled you into a hug, lifting you off the ground. “Yes. You are going to look perfect.” You giggled as he set you down, cupping your cheek in his large hand. Bradley had always been a hands on sort of guy and you loved him for it, being embraced in your friend’s arms had always made you feel safe. You wished that you had someone who hugged you like that in the ‘more than friends’ way. You hoped that one day Bob would hug you like that, but then you’d have to meet him. You wanted to ask him to meet but you were so nervous that you wouldn’t live up to his expectations that you’d chickened out. Bradley could feel your shoulders tense and he could almost read your mind.

“You’ll find him one day, Love. I promise you.”

“Thanks, Brad. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Tag list: @callsign-phoenix @imjess-themess @blue-aconite @averyhotchner @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @alexxavicry @a-reader-and-a-writer @topguncortez @maggiescarborough @callsignmaverick5 @ssprayberrythings @smoothdogsgirl @xoxabs88xox @luckyladycreator2 @abaker74 @elenavampire21 @classyunknownlover @okiegirl24 @airedale17 @sunlightmurdock @basiccortez @flashyourgreeneyesatme @callmemana @shadowolf993 @dhwanishah09

[thehitchhikerguide]

Season 1, Episode 3: Split Decision

Finally we get to an episode I remember watching back in the day. Even though I knew what was going to happen in this one, I was still very excited to re-visit it as I remember it being kind of bizarre.

We start with the opening theme music and then, wait what's this?

Who is this guy? We've spent all our time establishing a relationship with Page and then we see someone else?

Oh so he does exist! I guess this was one they couldn't re-shoot with the new Hitchhiker so they kept it as is. I knew I had seen a version with him in it, so it must have been this episode.

They actually used to play this one quite a bit in syndication despite the fact that it's a totally different guy. I honestly don't know why they bothered to re-shoot the other ones when they couldn't do this for all of them, but whatever. I was curious if somehow the Hitchhiker ends up more integrated with the plot.

This episode actually takes a different approach and instead of starting with the main character driving, we see him in his office. This is Jake, a down-on-his-luck real estate agent who has some interesting vintage phones on his desk.

I guess instead of having a phone with multiple lines, he just has two different phone lines? At first he doesn't seem like your average Hitchhiker protagonist since he's pretty dorky and you can't really imagine any sexy situations with this guy, but this is HBO after all.

I'm not sure he's actually talking to anyone on these phones since he happens to accidentally hang up the phone with the other receiver, yet the caller is supposedly still on the line.

How is that possible?

Anyways, it's time for driving so we can figure out how the Hitchhiker fits into this plot. Wacky music starts playing when we see this character's crappy car. I guess this is to establish that he is indeed very desperate and bad at his job. Hearing this music I expected a bunch of clowns to start coming out of it. But instead it looks like the car is about to burst into flames.

He meets the Hitchhiker while Jake is lost in some suburban neighborhood. He approaches him to ask him if he knows the road of the house he's trying to visit and he just points.

I guess this was why they couldn't re-shoot this because the editing would probably look pretty bad. My main question with this scene is, is this guy hitchhiking in some residential neighborhood? Isn't that a bit creepy?

The Hitchhiker seems to know him after he drives away since he tells the camera that Jake seems to think he's charming sort of a guy. Wow this hitchhiker sounds really Canadian and much friendlier than the one we are used to. I definitely prefer the creepy vibe that Page gives off more, but this was interesting. Anyways, charm can sometimes fool the charmer, or so the Hitchhiker says.

Jake drives up to the house he's been asked to sell. This guy really doesn't look like a Jake, more like a Herman or a Norman or some gross dorky name. We meet sisters Frances and Priscilla Packard played by real life actress sisters Audrey and Judy Landers. Now here are some actresses that look familiar. I know Audrey from singing that Tits and Ass song in the A Chorus Line movie. Judy Landers was in that Stewardess School movie which I caught 10 minutes of on Comedy Central back in the 1990s. Audrey actually went to Julliard and somehow she is still in this show. Both had made a number of television appearances in the 1980s so they are very familiar character actresses. Both are very good in this episode playing dumb sexy blondes which is basically their M.O.

They also like to dress as magician assistants around the house. This is because their father who left them this house was a famous magician.

Jake was very subtle when meeting these bodacious babes.

Get a good look Constanza?

He also says to one of them "You should have a sign that says 'beware of bush!'" Considering what happens to this guy in this episode, I think he should maybe take his own advice.

He also comments on how he likes the mounds in the garden. Real smooth.

There is some wackiness where he thinks both sisters are actually the same person until they appear together.

Of course being a classy guy he says "Stereo blondes! This is going to be delightful." I guess due to the unfreezing process he seems to have no inner monologue.

As he moves through the house we see a lot of cutlery imagery. One uses a chain saw, he runs into a hand saw, there is a random guillotine in the living room. Very curious.

There is also a bear in the closet. Oh Canada!

After the house tour, we learn that the sisters have trouble sharing. They had a doll someone gave them once and they had to split it down the middle so they didn't have to share it.

You can see here this doll is perfectly in tact with not even a seam down it, but somehow...

Jake is back in business as he gets to show his two new clients each a new home they can buy after they sell the home they are in.

This lady seems to be the only person to realize how disgusting this guy is.

The first sister gets shown a nice modest house. She gets horny when she finds out it has a fireplace and immediately strips and seduces Jake. Good Lord.

The second sister is shown a condo complete with creepy mannequins. He turns on the fireplace and we find out that fireplaces turn this sister on too.

There is a weird jump cut with this scene. My guess was the actress was too disgusted having to pretend to have sex with this guy and they had to cut out a facial expression.

At some point he does say the line "Let's slide into escrow together." Yuk.

I have to say the score on this episode with the wacky music is really distracting. Jake goes back to the house sometime later because he finds out the girls are not going to sell the house. Both sisters are just hanging out in their underwear.

Oh and one of them is making a sandwich. I'm sure this is doing it for someone right now.

They let Jake know that they both like him and they can't share him so they are not going to sell the house. He does seem more concerned with the fact they won't sell than the fact that these sisters are both after him. They both want him for some reason so his solution is that both of them can have him. They decide to take a photo to commemorate this moment.

There seems to be something happening behind him. Watch the birdie!

Wow that's a perfectly sliced sandwich! Ta-dah!

This scene has weird blocking, I couldn't tell how they got to this spot. And why is there no blood?

We end with the sisters walking through their garden talking about what new things they were going to plant in their mounds. The Hitchhiker has a voiceover, but we see his reflection in the door meaning he has been creeping around this neighborhood the whole time. He informs us that Jake would do anything for a sale and now he's a permanent fixture in the house.

Wait a minute...mounds in the garden? Are all those mounds other bodies of people they have done this to? Who is supposed to be the villain here?

I did like this episode. It was still crazy even without any supernatural elements. And it's nice to see that Nicholas Campbell wasn't completely erased from existence.

This is the last of the first season that was shot with the first Hitchhiker. The next one is the start of season 2 where I think they have finally figured out how the Hitchhiker fits into the series. I can't wait to find out what happens next.

[obscureoperations]

here are my eyeballs ok.

our favorite jestermimesprite w/a submissiv male s/o

if ur doing rquests if nt thts ok

i just forgot how to type my guy

maybe i shouldve kept le eyes for that-

Honestly though, this is an interesting concept. I feel that multiple people (myself included) already painted Whiteface as a bit of a sub. But what if.. If he finds himself with a partner more submissive than himself, he would be at a total loss. He didn't really know what to do but simply fall into the role. 

I think that he would take to it better than he expected, he adored everything about his partner. They made his heart light up inside...he would do anything to assure them they were loved.

Mostly shy and hesitant in the beginning, he literally doesn't know what to do. He was a performer, thinking back on past experiences..just what did he crave in that intimate that moment? His inner perfectionist wanted him to effortlessly fall into the role, but it was never really that easy.

Collapsing on top of them, he already knew that they needed him to be “soft” Smoothing the hair away from their eyes, kissing their cheeks. Firmly grasping their jaw--forcing them to look at him. 

Grasping at fitfuls of their hair as they work their way down his slender frame.

It was rare for the shy jester to find someone more soft spoken and docile than he was. After all it was part of his job--and he wasn't like most of the general population. Quiet by nature, he could speak..but after a certain point in time he chose not to.

When he first met you, he was definitely intrigued--your submissive nature was something he would discover later. If anything, you had a bit of a mouth on you, your cheers could be heard from the sidelines. You seemed to take a notice of the mime the very first show, sitting forward in your seen when he'd grace the arena. He could feel the intensity of your stare..it fueled his desire to perform.

Your relationship progressed faster than he could have imagined. It was like you swooped in and in an instant you were his. It all felt so natural--as if he knew you in another life. Impossible but who knows. The two of you seemed to balance eachother out, your extroverted nature complimented his quiet observations. You were not afraid to speak in uncomfortable situations. It came in handy when there were rival gangs.

He found himself wanting to spend all of his time with you..in between shows, the two of you had all the time in the world. You didn't jump into intimate territory until months into your relationship. He should have known, there were definite signs of your submissive nature leading up to that night in the tent.

The way you would seek out, reaching for his hand, resting your head at the crook of his shoulder. You would look to him for approval the second you'd make a joke. If he didn't crack a smile you were deflated. You somehow managed to claim the role of '' little spoon'' The limber sprite couldn't find it in him to complain. The way you would meld against him as he held you in his arms. All was right in the world...it was perfect.

He was trembling, heartbeat hammering against his ribs as he quietly zips up the tent. The light was out in front of the bunker,indicating that there would be no disturbances for the rest of the night. The guys were good as setting ground rules in that way, though few wan far inbetween. He couldn't describe the way you'd been looking at him all day.. it caused him to blush quite profusely. Stomach doing somersaults, his palms grew increasingly damp. Just what did you need from him?

Kaleidoscopic eyes seemed to bore into his very soul as you spoke to him. "Do ya think I could stay with you tonight?"

It wasn't even a question. Of course you could..you had spent the night in his arms numerous times. With your eyes drifting over his features, the pieces click together and he began to tremble. He nods his head in silence. Your face lit up and it causes him to melt, he gives a brief glance over his shoulder before kissing your cheek.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight before him. In the time that he removed the greasepaint, you had stripped completely bare. Lounging across the small lumpy mattress, you looked like some sort of reanimated painting. His mouth goes dry as his gaze moves over every inch of newly revealed flesh. At least you seemed to be blushing as well--you reach out your hand.

"Darling.. please come here.."

~~~

[judemabon]

Creating an Online Presence

How do I make an online presence?

What might seem like a simple question has been asked, and answered by thousands, probably millions of would be influencers, marketing experts and "E-Celebrities" and still no one has came up with a foolproof answer. It all depends on what sort of online presence you are looking for, as an aspiring Game Developer I will be trying to get my name "out there" to as many would-be Employers, Coworkers and (hopefully one day) Investors as possible. For some of my Hobbies, such as painting Miniatures, Building Lego and Making music, I've posted my progress, things I'm proud of, and things i know i need to work on, to a community of likeminded social media users to give me feedback, criticisms and just to enjoy. I plan on doing the same thing with my Video Game journey, Posting all my Progress from my first "Proper" try at a video game in 1st year of Uni, the hundreds of VERY amateur sketches I've made while coming up with game concepts, to the Games I'm actually proud of.

(Pictured above, some of my aforementioned Warhammer models)

Why would I make an online presence?

Like I mentioned in my last paragraph, mostly just to get my name out there. To show everyone I can what makes me special, what makes me so different to all these other Developers, and (most importantly) why they should hire ME. I've never been the most outspoken person in the world, so making a blog, showing people what I can do without even having to meet them (and risk making a fool of myself) first seems like a no brainer.

(A very low-res first attempt at pixel art for my first attempt at a video game)

What Platforms Should I Use?

Another good question (Thanks Gavin) and a controversial one too. Most Social Media sites that people still use (RIP MySpace) have certain connotations that come with them, most of them negative, and that influences the type, and amount, of Industry members that use each website. From the stereotype that Facebook is for the older generations, and Instagram is for the younger generations, Tumblr is for the Artsy types, LinkedIn is for the Serious types, YouTube is somehow home to everyone, and god knows whats happening to X (formerly twitter) It seems if you want to reach the most people possible, you need to be open to posting to multiple sites. Before starting this blog, id never even opened the Tumblr website, and had only really heard about it from a couple old memes and YouTube videos (DashCon 2014?? too deep a cut??) Only to find out that its nothing like the picture id been painted, so I've learned already that I need to keep a very open mind. So far i have been posting on Instagram and Twitter since starting Secondary school, Facebook since i got invited to play Farmville by my Granny, LinkedIn since starting my part-time job hunt in 1st year of Uni, and YouTube since I got my first PC and thought I was fit to be the next member of FaZe, so I have my fair share of social media experience.

(another, strangely low-res, Pixel art attempt, this time for a game me and a few classmates brainstormed concepts in summer 2022)

What Sets Me Apart From the Competition?

I think what sets me apart from the countless talented people in my industry is my passion for the things that i set my heart to, When i start a project, its all i can do, its all i think of, in my free time i'll be thinking of different ways to improve on my ideas, new concepts and ideas. When I was at work over the summer, i spent all my free time (and any time the place was empty enough) sketching out weapons, armour, locations, enemies and pretty much anything else that came to mind for the game i was working on over summer. It becomes almost an obsession, to the point where i was dreaming about medieval armour because i was so invested in the concept of the game. By the time Uni started back up again id filled up a sketchbook with ideas (and probably filled half my recycling bin with sub-par sketches.)

(a tiny error in the code of my first game)

-Jude Mabon

[screwitanddoitanyway]

I posted 1,936 times in 2022

That's 16 more posts than 2021!

18 posts created (1%)

1,918 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@capseycartwright

@littlespoonevan

@clusterbuck

@sophielostandfound

@lostinabuddiehaze

I tagged 35 of my posts in 2022

#0 - 17 posts

#911 on fox - 17 posts

#buddie - 14 posts

#911 fox - 14 posts

#911onfox - 12 posts

#hart of dixie - 3 posts

#ravi panikkar - 2 posts

#evan buckley - 2 posts

#eddie díaz - 2 posts

#eddie diaz - 1 post

Longest Tag: 89 characters

#eddie talks about his son and how he feels the need to be so many things for other people

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

If " In Another Life" is a what if episode I will LOSE IT

I MEAN ABSOLUTELY LOSE MY GOD DAMN MIND

24 notes - Posted November 3, 2022

#4

dont believe everything you hear

Guess who's actually wrote a fanfic for the first time in years!

Based on this tumblr post I wrote a few weeks ago:

Also on AO3

Ravi is not an idiot.

He doesn’t feel the need to point that out often, he’s usually quite content in his level of intelligence. So maybe he isn’t the kind of smart that his best friend Taimur is. Tai is in medical school with dreams of being an oncologist and hopes to one day help kids like the two of them. Because that’s what you do when you’re a kid with cancer, you spend your weekends getting chemo and dreaming of being the one to cure cancer one day. But Ravi was never going to be a doctor, he knew that much. He always liked the idea of being a superhero, but a firefighter fit him well too.

So Ravi was not an idiot. He had a four year degree from UCLA and had made it through the fire academy. He was observant and had a good memory and spoke three languages for god’s sake. 

Yet somehow he had missed that his co-workers had in fact not gone through a divorce and shared custody of their son. IN FACT they had never been married or even been together in the first place.

In some ways he felt Buck and Eddie were to blame for this. Because really, they had to be. 

But in fact, it probably started with Lena Bosko.

Ravi liked being at the 118. He was getting on well with the rest of B shift and already learning a lot. And sometimes when his shift ran a little long, he would cross over with A shift in the dressing room. Everyone on A shift was smoking hot and stupidly competent at their jobs. Ravi had spent the day after one of his first shifts at the house google stalking and finding all the old news coverage of the team. 

Also B shift loved to gossip. So he learned very quickly that not only were A shift good at their jobs, there was also always drama following them around. But Hen always had a smile for him and Bobby would always save him some food. However he was glad to be on B shift, as the A shift all together just seemed overwhelming, and Ravi wasn’t sure how we would handle all of that.

He’s only been at the house a few weeks when he’s on shift and there is a call for a pretty big warehouse fire. A few different houses are called in and he manages to find the balance between helpful probie and learning how to deal with a big disaster from the more seasoned firefighters. 

They get the fire under control and he’s helping pack up hoses when a voice calls from behind him.

“Hey you’re with the 118!” A woman strides up to him, having seen the truck he’s next to. It’s both a statement and a question.

Ravi nods unsure how to reply, but it doesn’t matter as she carries on talking as she stops in front of him.

“How’s the Diaz and Buckley divorce going?” She asks, a small smirk on her face.

“The…w-what?” Ravi can’t help but stutter. He knows who she’s talking about. The guys on A shift are basically infamous and connected at the hip. And he has to admit he saw Firefighter Buckley working out in the gym area when he was getting ready to leave the house once, and almost walked into a wall. Ravi is only human.

“Last time I saw those two they were arguing in a grocery store about their kid” She rolls her eyes, a fond smile playing at her lips, “Those two are so much drama.”

“Well, I'm pretty new, but from what I can tell they seem to be working well together”. He shrugs. All he’s observed so far from Buckley and Diaz is that they go everywhere together, can communicate just by looking at each other, and are both ridiculously good looking. 

“Good luck navigating that” She reaches out and slaps him on the shoulder, “Better you dealing with them than me.” She smiles again and walks away. Ravi spots the name Bosko on the back of her turnout before he shakes himself and gets back to packing away. It’s been a long shift and he does not have time to process this new information right now.

It’s not long after that night that he gets moved up to A shift to help make up numbers. And learns that everything the B shift used to gossip about and what Bosko told him, suddenly makes so much more sense. Because A shift, and Eddie and Buck in particular, are So. Much. Drama.

—--------

“PROBIE!” 

Ravi drops all the books he’s holding. Partly from the fear of someone shouting at him. Partly from the fact that having a 6ft blonde hunk shouting at him is making him react in ways he doesn’t need the general public to see.

Since the revelation Bosko bestowed on him, he can’t help but monitor A shift closely now. Letting himself get dragged into gossip with the others on B and C shift. Trying to figure out what exactly made Buck and Eddie get divorced, since they still seem so close.

Is it all a front for their kid? Or to keep peace at work? When they leave do they turn into the spiteful divorced parents he’s seen on TV? He’s never even seen them so much as glare at each other.

But what he does see is interesting.

See the full post

30 notes - Posted May 22, 2022

#3

Something something Buck and Eddie sat together at the henren vow renewal looking out over their chosen family

And Eddie saying something like "here we are single again, and so much romance around us everyone is here with the person they're meant to be with"

And Buck responding something like "its nice to see them happy....but do you ever think maybe that maybe we are with the person we're meant to be with"

And Eddie all confused

And Buck continues "me and you and Christopher, we're a team, girlfriends come and go but we will always have each other"

OR

Eddie: "look at our family, all with the person they're meant to be with"

Buck: "and you've got me"

Eddie: "and I've got you" *smiles*

And they cheers and drink to it

And we spend the hiatus absolutely feral whilst the writers try to explain to us thats just how bros are

38 notes - Posted May 7, 2022

#2

LISTEN

I LOVE Ravi thinks Buck and Eddie are divorced head canons

They are simply one of the best things to come from this fandom

BUT WHAT IF

The reason he thinks that is because back when he was on B shift he was on a call and bumped into Lena Bosko and her crew

And Lena sees he's from the 118 and asks

"How's Buckley and Diaz's divorce going?"

And Ravi has a light bulb moment where he's like ok everything makes sense now and literally nothing that has happened as he moved to A shift has proven him wrong

144 notes - Posted February 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Enolas mum was like "honey you need other people"

So she went out and got herself a boyfriend.

Then saw how lonely her brother was and got him one too.

Good for her.

6,180 notes - Posted November 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[99liv3s]

A Favor for a Fairy

This was the first story I posted here, and I have decided to repost this story, both to save people time from having to scroll down to the bottom of my page, and to combine all 6 chapters into one post, both to make it easier to read.

           23-year old Monica examined herself in the driver side mirror on her car door, brushing her long black hair out of her face, to expose her bright blue eyes.  She sighed, thinking to herself as she looked over her appearance.  Monica had a small petite body with lightly-toned skin, causing everyone she knew to tell her that she needed to get a tan.  However, Monica really had no interest in lying on a beach somewhere.  She did love to be outdoors, but she loved nature, and preferred to take walks in forests, as somehow, she felt this allowed her to immerse herself in nature, and collect her thoughts.  Monica was a very kindhearted person, and loved helping out others when she could. Unfortunately, her current job, as a cashier at a clothing store, did not afford her much opportunity to do this.

         A nature walk today was exactly what she needed, for she had spent the last few days pondering her life, wishing that there was some way she could somehow make a difference in the world, and she really needed to clear her head for a while.  Therefore, she had slipped on a simple white T-shirt she had received from the store she worked, and a pair of red track pants, gotten in her car, and drove to the most remote area she could find, pulling off onto the side of the road when she spotted an almost buried trail leading into the forest, which seemed perfect.

           She continued to stare at her reflection for another minute or two, and then she turned toward the trail leading into the forest and began to follow it, jogging a bit at first, then slowing down to a casual stroll, as she marveled at her surroundings.  This was the kind of environment that always made her happy. The overgrowth of the trees was so thick, it blocked out part of the sun, allowing only slits of light to shine through. It was just enough light to hide her in the forest without darkening it completely.  Immersing herself in this environment, she made her way quite deeply into the forest without realizing it!

           Strolling ahead, lost in her thoughts, Monica wondered off the trail and made her way to an area of the forest that looked as if no one had set foot there in years.  She was not too worried about getting lost, however, as she still had her phone in her pocket, it still had signal, and she had a GPS app that could get her back to her car if necessary.  Suddenly, Monica heard something, a very faint sound that was nearly drowned out by her footsteps on the fallen leaves.  Monica stopped to listen, and continued to hear it. It sounded like…. crying!!  After listening for a few seconds, Monica was certain she could trace the source, which was coming from a darker cluster of trees a few meters to her right.  She turned and made her way toward them, and the crying grew louder.  Monica then stopped, still trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from.  After about half a minute, she looked down and spotted something that did not seem real: A small tree had fallen over and now lay in front of where Monica now stood, and a tiny fairy was sitting on it, with her face in her hands, crying!  Monica blinked, making sure that it wasn’t some sort of illusion, but there was no mistaking that it was a fairy: Female by the look of it, for it (she) had silvery hair that stretched down to her shoulders, and light blue, almost transparent wings protruding from her back.  She was so small, Monica could fit her her the palm of her hand, if she so desired.  The fairy did not seem to be wearing any kind of clothing, but there did not seem to be any kind of need for it, as there was nothing to “cover up.”

           Monica could not bear to see this remarkable creature in so much pain and sadness.  Therefore, she cautiously approached the tiny fairy and crouched beside her.

             “Are you ok?” Monica asked timidly.

 The fairy looked up, and Monica saw a quite cute, tear-streaked face with bright green eyes that seemed to almost glow.  The face seemed to regard Monica for a moment, then the fairy spoke in a slightly high pitched, but surprisingly strong voice, given her size.

             “No, I’m not ok, far from it,” she said.  “I don’t know what to do!”

 Monica was amazed that the fairy could speak perfect English.  She did not know if the fairy knew the language, or if this was due to some kind of magic, but now was not the time to dwell on such unimportant facts. This creature was obviously in despair, and that broke Monica’s heart.

             “Are…. Are you a fairy?” Monica asked, curiously. “I didn’t know that they existed!”

             “We nearly don’t, anymore,” The fairy answered, smiling sadly.  “I think I might be one of the last, if not the last, of my kind still around as I am.”

             “What do you mean “as you are”?” Monica inquired. “What exactly are you?”

 Monica’s legs began to cramp from crouching, so she sat down onto the tree beside the little fairy, continuing to stare at her in amazement.

             “My name is Keri,” the fairy stated.  “I am indeed a fairy, you are right!”  “We’ve been around for a long time, keeping contact with humans very limited.”  “In these modern times, we’ve had to keep our existence secret, for reasons I’m sure you can understand.”

 Monica nodded.

             “Sadly, magic is fading from the world,” Keri explained.  “I don’t know why it is, but magic is our life energy, and since there is now so little of it in the world, my kind are going extinct.”

 Monica noticed that tears began to fall from Keri’s beautiful green eyes again as she recounted this.

             “Long ago, we could live for hundreds of years, and reproduce normally,” Keri explained.  “But, when magic began to fade from the Earth, we began dying in great numbers.”

 Monica realized she had tears in her own eyes now, but she could not help it.  Her heart ached for Keri and she longed to help.

             “When we started to realized what was happening to us,” Keri continued, “We found a solution: A magical ritual that would allow us to be reborn, as humans!”

             “Is that possible?” Monica asked, amazed.

             “Well, it was working in the past,” Keri responded. “From what I was told long ago, a great number of my people started their lives over, and were reborn as humans.” “In time, it was the only way we could “reproduce” and save ourselves.”

             “But, how does that work?” Monica asked.  “Do you just… transform into humans magically… or something?”

 Keri shook her head. “It is not that simple,” she said. “We can’t just transform our bodies at will,”  “The transformation process is truly a rebirth… We are fully transformed from our current form into that of a human baby.”  “We leave our old lives behind and start anew, as humans.”  “For that to work, the ritual requires one missing element: Somewhere in which each fairy undergoing the change can be incubated.” “We didn’t have enough magic left to create our own when we created this ritual, and we can’t just use your human technology… It is too complicated for us.”  “So, we did the only thing we could: we found humans who would volunteer to “carry” us as we were transformed.”

 Monica sat there, stunned, with her mouth slightly open.  She could not believe what she was hearing.  Other people knew about the fairies?  There were former fairies living among humans right now, as human themselves?  She was quite certain that this had to be a dream, so she pinched herself.  It hurt, so Monica knew it was real.  Keri looked at her puzzled.

             “Sorry, I’m just having a lot of trouble believing this,” Monica told her.  “If you’ve used humans before, how is it that the world hasn’t found out about your existence?”

             “The volunteers were sworn to secrecy,” Keri explained.  “There were not many of them, and it was a long time ago.”  “I don’t think many of them would try to reveal our secret, for who would believe them?”  “I was very young when all this happened, mind you, so I don’t understand everything.” “A huge accident, with one of your human power plants or something, is the reason I’m now alone.”  “Many of us just died out, and I happened to be lucky, though being alone, I don’t feel that way…”  “My magic is drying up, and that means I’m dying… all alone…”

             “Do you know this ritual?” Monica blurted out. She was overcome with emotion, and wanted to do anything to help Keri, whatever it took.

             Keri blinked in astonishment.  “I… I do know it, but…”

             “Then, use me,” Monica said.

Keri was so stunned at Monica’s exclamation that she had stopped crying.  Her beautiful wings fluttered and she floated into the air, to hover at eye level with Monica.

             “What?” Keri asked, taken aback. “What do you…?”

             “You need someone to “carry” you, right?” Monica exclaimed.  “I can!” “I’m a healthy young woman, and I can do it!”  “I volunteer!”

             Keri stared at her, stunned, but hopeful.  “Do you even know what you are agreeing to?” She asked. “I would need your womb, to transform into a human baby girl.”  “You would essentially be pregnant, and have to give birth!”  “Do you understand that?”

             Monica thought to herself.  She had never been pregnant before.  She had never even had sex.  However, she had watched videos on the internet about pregnancy, and birth videos.   Therefore, Monica knew it would be painful.  However, as she stared into the face of this amazing creature, Monica knew that the pain would be worth it… if it meant that she could save Keri’s life. She could handle it!

             “Yes, I understand, and I still volunteer,” Monica answered. “My name is Monica, by the way.”

 Keri slowly floated back down and landed on Monica’s leg.  Standing there, (“She’s not even heavy,” Monica thought), an expression of enormous relief and hope spread onto Keri’s face, and she smiled.

             “Thank you, Monica,” Keri sighed.  “I know I’ll be putting you through a lot… the volunteers in the past were well informed and trained for this process, but I don’t know as much about it…”

             “What do I have to do?” Monica asked, seemingly excited. It always made her so happy and full of energy to help someone.

 Keri seemed to think for a few seconds, then she fluttered off of Monica’s leg and onto the ground, staring up at her.

             “You won’t have to do much, at first,” Keri stated. “I’ll be doing most of the work, performing the ritual and such.”  “Your job will mostly be to carry me, then simply to give birth.”  “The problem is that, once I perform the ritual, I’m gone!” “I’ll be a baby growing in your womb, so I obviously won’t be able to communicate with you anymore.”  “So, I guess I should give you all the information I can now!”

 Monica started to feel a little hesitant upon hearing this.  Her experience with pregnancy in general was limited, and this was not a normal situation.  What if she needed help?  Monica wanted to ask about this, but waited, as Keri had begun to explain the ritual. Hopefully, she would answer Monica’s question without her having to ask.

             “So, when I perform the ritual, I’ll be transformed into a magical form of energy, that will easily be able to enter your womb,” Keri explained. “Once there, my transformation will immediately begin.” “Don’t worry; you won’t have to wait 9 months, as typical for you humans.”  “The transformation process happens quickly, I’d say about an hour.”  “Once it is complete, the birth should happen as with any normal baby.”

 Monica’s head spun with this information.  It was a lot to take in…

             “I’ve never given birth before,” Monica exclaimed.  “I can’t get to a hospital in an hour, and even if I could, how would I explain?”  “I didn’t think about this when I volunteered.”  “I guess I just assumed you would be able to talk to me, via magic or something.”  “I’ll be all alone!”

 Keri shook her head.

             “I have a solution to that,” She told Monica.  “A few miles deeper in this forest is a cabin in which a friend lives.” “Her name is Jasmine, and she knows about this ritual.” “She was once a druid, before magic started to disappear, so she knows all about us.”  “She helped some of the volunteers in the past with the birthing process, so she will be able to help you, too.”  “Her cabin is not far, so you should have plenty of time to reach it before you have to give birth to me.”  “Here…”

 Keri flew up to Monica’s left arm and touched it with her tiny finger.  At once, a bluish tattoo of a circle with stars in it formed on the arm.

             “This will let Jasmine know that you are involved with the ritual, so she won’t turn you away,” Keri said, before flying back to the ground.  “Don’t worry; it will disappear in a few days.”

 Monica looked over this tattoo with interest.  She never cared for tattoos herself, but this one served an important purpose, and it was actually kind of pretty.

 “Well, that’s it, I think I’ve told you all you need to know,” Keri said.  “Get to Jasmine’s place, for she can tell you anything I might have left out.”  “Are you ready?”

 Monica stood up, and knelt down beside Keri.  She reached out her hand, and Keri stepped onto it.  Monica then raised her hand and cupped Keri in both of her hands.  It was the closest she could come to hugging the little fairy without crushing her.

             “I’m ready,” Monica replied!

         Keri jumped from Monica’s hands and floated back down to stand on the fallen tree that she had been sitting on when Monica first saw her. She began waving her hands in a sort of rhythm, and after a few seconds, her body began to glow a deep blue.

             “I’m now beginning the ritual,” Keri stated.  “For this first part, you can just simply relax and stay calm.”  “All I need you to do is to take your pants and underwear off.”

 Monica hesitated, then proceeded to undress herself, right there in the forest, grateful that no one but Keri could see her.  She pulled her track pants off, laid them aside, then did the same with her underwear. So that she could be more comfortable, she removed her shirt as well.  Standing there, completely naked, Monica watched Keri continue the ritual with interest. Keri was glowing such a bright shade of blue; Monica could barely see her face.

              “I just want you to know,” Keri began, “That I am so grateful to you for this.”  “I’m using the last of my magic to do this, so there is no going back now.”  “I can’t thank you enough.”

             “Don’t worry about it,” Monica answered.  “I’m happy to do it.”  “What could be better than helping a unique creature save herself?”

 Keri did not answer; she continued to glow and move her hands, calling upon her magic.  She then fluttered off of the tree and down onto the ground nearby.

             “You should lie down, now,” Keri said.  “It will make you more comfortable.”

 Monica did so, resting her head up against the fallen tree, so that she could see what Keri was doing. Before either of them could say anything else, the glowing overtook the little fairy, and she transformed into a small wisp of light.  It was about the size of Monica’s finger, even smaller than Keri had been as a fairy. The wisp then floated into the air.

             “Goodbye, Monica,” Keri’s voice said, as the wisp of energy flew toward Monica.

             As Monica lay on the forest floor, trying to stay calm, the wisp of energy that was Keri reached her body and entered her vagina. At once, Monica felt an intense feeling of jubilation and elation.  It felt as if her entire body was immersed in a warm bath, and at the same time, so much joy filled her heart.  She had never felt anything this good before, and for a few minutes, Monica lay, naked, on the ground, enjoying this feeling.  If Keri’s magic could make her feel like this, then it was a huge tragedy that there were no fairies left in the world any longer.  Monica felt a slight bit of sadness mingle with the powerful contentment that she currently felt.  Keri had not told her anything about this!  Perhaps she did not know this feeling would happen to Monica, or maybe it was Keri’s gift to her, for helping her out.

           After a few glorious minutes, the pleasurable feeling began to wear off, and Monica remembered that she should be making her way to Jasmine’s cabin now.  She struggled to her feet and re-dressed, then began walking deeper into the forest, as Keri had directed her.  She noticed as she did so that the area she was beginning to enter seemed brighter than where Monica encountered Keri.  Monica began to marvel about this, and wonder how Jasmine kept herself hidden as a result, when she began to feel uncomfortable pressure in her stomach.  Monica gasped with the shock of it.  Perhaps that was supposed to happen?  She would have to ask Jasmine once she reached her cabin. For now, it was not too bad, and Monica decided to continue on.  She’d had stomach cramps from food poisoning worse that this.

           A few minutes later, the pressure had gotten much more intense, and Monica was forced to stop and rest.  She placed a hand against a tree and leaned against it, rubbing her belly with her other hand.  This seemed to help slightly, but Monica noticed something else when she did this. She looked down with astonishment, and noticed that her belly was growing slowly before her very eyes. Both the pressure and her amazement kept Monica from moving, and she stared at her expanding belly for several minutes.  Eventually, the pressure and the growing stopped, making Monica look as if she was nine months pregnant.  Her track pants were expanded around her large waist and her t-shirt was now not enough to hide her protruding, basketball sized belly.  Monica began to panic a bit, now.  Barely 20 minutes had passed, but Keri said the process would take an hour.  Was it supposed to be that fast, or had something gone wrong?

             “Jasmine,” She told herself, “I have to get to Jasmine!”

 Monica stood and began to waddle forward.  The pressure had been so intense earlier; she had failed to notice a small cabin in the distance.  Monica made her way as quickly as she could toward it.  As she waddled, she could feel the baby moving inside her.  She had always heard people talk about this feeling, but now, feeling it herself, she knew no words could describe it.  After about 10 more minutes, Monica finally arrived at the front door of the cabin.  She knocked timidly, three times, and then the door opened.

           In the doorway of the cabin stood a slightly tall woman, who looked to be in her late 30s.  She had blonde hair cut short and dark brown eyes.  Her skin tone looked as if she had at least gotten more sun than Monica ever had, but she was still light-skinned.  Monica hoped that this woman that greeted her was Jasmine.

           The woman examined her visitor, and immediately spotted the large pregnant belly, which the girl was absentmindedly rubbing, the grimace of slight pain on her face, and also the tattoo on her arm.  Without a word, the cabin’s occupant moved aside and motioned for Monica to enter.  Monica waddled through the door, while the woman leaned out of it, touched the outside wall with her hand, and muttered something in an unknown language.

           The slight pain she was in could not completely diminish the amazement that Monica felt upon entering the cabin.  She noticed that the cabin was much roomier inside that it looked on the outside.  There seemed to be several rooms to it, including what looked like a central sitting room, which Monica had walked into upon entering the cabin.  Since Keri had told Monica that Jasmine was once a druid, Monica suspected more magic was in play here.  Monica looked around the room, spotting bookshelves against the walls, a few wooden chairs dotted around the room, and other various decorations. Monica also noted that there did not seem to be any modern technology in the cabin at all.  There was a small chandelier overhead, dotted with lit candles, and other candles, also lit, were placed sporadically around the room.  The sound of the door closing behind her snapped Monica out of these thoughts.

             “I am Jasmine,” the woman said. “You are involved with the ritual!”

 Jasmine said this more as a statement rather than a question, but she did not seem to expect an answer.  However, the statement was not unkind.

             “To be honest, it has been so long, I didn’t think any fairies were still left,” Jasmine stated.  She then smiled at Monica.  “I’ve never seen you before…”  “All of the others that I’d helped in the past are gone, it seems…”

             Jasmine made her way to one of the shelves positioned near the left wall and opened a drawer, extracting a small device from it. This device was the size and shape of Monica’s Smartphone, but it looked like a piece of glass or crystal. Jasmine then motioned to a doorway on the right, leading to a different room of the cabin it seemed.

             “Come; follow me into this room, dear… We’ll get you comfortable and ready,” Jasmine said to her.

 Jasmine then walked into that room, out of sight.  Monica slowly followed, waddling her way into the room as well.  Inside, Jasmine had prepared a small surface, almost like a bed, for Monica to lie on.  Also around the room were shelves with various instruments on them.  A few candles were lit in here as well, one sitting on an end table close to the “bed”, one sitting on one of the shelves, and one hanging from overhead.  These were the only source of light, other than a tiny window positioned over the “bed”. This window had a pane of glass in it, from which a beam of sunlight shined through.  Jasmine motioned for Monica to lie down, and she did, feeling that the surface was quite comfortable.  However, she began to experience more pains.

           “So, I’ll just ask you a few quick general questions,” Jasmine said to her, as she bustled around the room, fetching various objects.  She had laid the crystal “Smartphone” object on one of the shelves, perhaps to use later. Monica tried to make out what some of these objects were, but was distracted by a fresh wave of pain from her stomach.  Therefore, she lay her head back onto the pillow of her “bed” and rubbed her belly as Jasmine began questioning her:

             “What is your name?” Jasmine asked.

             “Monica,” the girl answered.

             “How old are you?”

             “Twenty-three.”

             “Have you ever had a baby before?”

             “Never.”

             “How long ago was the ritual performed?”

 Monica hesitated, for she had lost track of time.  She knew it had not been a full hour yet, however.

             “I would say about 40 minutes ago,” Monica finally answered.

 Jasmine did not ask another question.  Instead, she had retrieved the crystal object that she had gotten from the other room and proceeded to wave this over Monica’s belly several times. Monica’s pain had subsided momentarily, so she watched this with fascination.  A small light of yellow seemed to glow from the object in Jasmine’s hand, which caused Jasmine’s eyes to widen in astonishment.

             “Hmm… It seemed you are already in labor, Monica,” She said, sounding slightly amazed.  “This is happening quicker than I anticipated, but it’s nothing to worry about.” “Now, I’d advise getting out of those clothes.”

 Monica sat up, then stood, and with Jasmine’s help, removed her pants, shirt, and underwear.  For the second time today, she was completely naked, which seemed to satisfy Jasmine.  Monica was then hit with another wave of pain and pressure, and she moaned loudly, clutching her now naked belly and grimacing.

             “Ooohhh…”

             “Seems to be moving quite along,” Jasmine said kindly. “Lie back and make yourself comfortable.”

 Monica did so, and lay upon her bed for several minutes, not moving, until the pain subsided enough that she could catch her breath again.  Jasmine knelt down at the end of the bed and proceeded to examine Monica’s vagina…

             “Already 8 centimeters dilated,” Jasmine said in surprise.

 Jasmine then got to her feet, picked up a small cloth from the shelf nearby, and soaked it in a bucket of water sitting next to the foot of the bed, to Monica’s left.  Jasmine then used this cloth all over Monica’s naked body; cleaning off the dirt and stains she had gotten from lying naked on the forest floor when Keri had performed the ritual.  This had the dual effect of both washing Monica off, and comforting her slightly.  After a couple of minutes of this, Jasmine dropped the cloth in the bucket, stood, and smiled down at Monica.

             “We do have a bit of time before the big moment,” Jasmine said, “If you have any questions for me.”

             “Wow, it hurts,” Monica whispered.  “Is it supposed to hurt like that?”

             “I’m afraid it is,” Jasmine answered, with a kind, concerned expression.  “Unfortunately, I can’t give you anything for the pain… That might corrupt the ritual.” “You are handling it well, I must say, though.”

 Monica nodded in understanding.

             “What exactly are you?” Monica asked.

             “I was a druid, long ago, but my services became of little use, once magic began to fade from the world.”  “I’ve studied enough to keep my magical powers from completely fading, mostly through using it sparingly.”  “I don’t understand much about human society in this modern age, so I live here, secluded and in secret.”  “I am quite self-sufficient… You may or may not have seen the garden out behind the cabin…”

             “Why is magic fading from the world, do you know?”

             “I’m not sure, but my theory is that it is because of humans no longer believing in magic.”  “As they developed more and more of their technology over the years, it seems as if they are believing in that, rather that the magic of old.  Children still somewhat believe, which is why there is still a bit of magic left…”  “Don’t get me wrong,” Jasmine added, as she walked over to the end table and picked up Monica’s phone, which she had taken out of her pants pocket before taking them off, “You humans have developed some fascinating technology.”  Jasmine examined the phone with interest for a few seconds, then replaced it onto the table.  “I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to use any of it, but it looks as if you humans won’t need magic in the future.”

             “I don’t want magic to disappear,” Monica said. “I believe we still need it.” “There are some magical things that technology will never replace!”

             “Nice that you feel that way, but you are one of the few, it seems,” Jasmine said, smiling.

             “How come you couldn’t participate in the ritual yourself,” Monica asked.  She had wondered this as soon as Keri mentioned Jasmine to her, but there had been no chance to ask.

             “Believe me, I think it would be an honor,” Jasmine responded.  “But, I can’t!”  “Contrary to how I look, I am actually centuries old!”

 Monica’s mouth fell open at this revelation.

             “I’ve used a spell to keep my appearance and much of my physical self at this age, but regardless, I’m still much too old to get pregnant.”  “Therefore, I’m happy to help as I do.”

             “That’s amazing,” Monica exclaimed.  “You look not much older than me!”

             “I shall take that as a compliment,” Jasmine said, laughing.

 Another great pain came over Monica, and she groaned.

             “Oohhh… OW… ow….ow…. ow…..ow…”

 Monica trembled as the pain and pressure built up, then subsided almost as fast as it had come. Still feeling slight uncomfortable, Monica sat up a bit, to look Jasmine in the eyes.

             “I’ve…. I’ve never been pregnant before…” Monica confessed.  “I’ve never even considered it.”  “I’ve watched videos about it online, but… To be honest, I’m kinda scared.”

             “Videos are not the same as the experience,” Jasmine responded.  “But, you’ll get through it just fine, I think.”  “You seem like a strong willed young lady, Monica.”  “Admittedly, it will be painful, as I can see you are quite a small girl, but I’m here for you.”  “Everything has been prepared.”  “And don’t worry about attracting attention to my secret existence here…I’ve placed a spell on the entire cabin that will muffle all sound coming from it!”  “Feel free to scream as loud as you have to, if necessary.”

 Monica nodded appreciatively, but inwardly hoped the pain would not get bad enough for that. Monica had many other questions, but there was one that seemed most important to ask now…

             “You seemed surprised that I was already in labor,” Monica asked.  “Does that mean something is wrong?”

             “I don’t know,” Jasmine responded.  “I have seen times between the start of the ritual and labor vary before, but it’s never been this fast.”  “To be fair, you are the youngest and most petite volunteer I’ve ever helped, which might be the reason.”

 Monica doubled over as another wave of pain and pressure built up.

             “Oooh…ooooh… ahhhh…”

             “I have another tool in the other room,” Jasmine said. “It works kind of like a magical version of human X-ray machines.”  “It might help if we take a look at the baby, and what is going on inside.”  “I’ll go to the other room and get it.”  “You make yourself comfortable, and breathe through the pain.”  “It’s all going to be ok.”

 With that, Jasmine left the room, leaving Monica lying on the bed, rubbing her belly in an attempt to make the pain stop.  The pressure kept building, and it seemed to last longer than it ever had before.  After a few minutes, Monica moaned loudly, then felt a new sensation, accompanied by a new sound.  Monica’s water had broken!!

           “JASMINE,” Monica yelled in both surprise and agony.

 As soon as her water had broken, Monica began to feel the most intense pain she had ever felt.  She also felt pressure, as if she needed to push.

             “AAAARRRggggghhhhh….. oooohhhhhh…”

 As Monica moaned and panted, Jasmine came running into the room, clutching something the size and shape of a dinner plate.  However, seeing both the large puddle of water at the foot of the bed, and Monica suffering, she dropped the object into a nearby chair and crouched to the young girl’s side.

             “Just breathe through the pain, and do whatever your body wants you to do,” She coached.

             “I NEED TO PUSH,” Monica yelled.  “It HURTS… AAAHHHH…”

 Monica pushed, as Jasmine had instructed.  She could not help herself.  It seemed as if the baby wanted out of her badly.

             “That’s it, Monica!”  “Keep going!”  “You’re doing fine!”

             “Ahhhh….. Ahhhhh….. Ohhhh….

 After a few minutes, the pain became less intense for a little while.  Monica slumped her head back onto the pillow, gasping for breath.

             “Let’s see here…” Jasmine said.  She picked up the dinner plate object and held it up to Monica’s contracting belly.  An image formed on it, but Monica could not see what it was, as Jasmine had it positioned away from her.  However, she assumed that it was showing Jasmine her insides.

             “Gracious,” Jasmine exclaimed, no longer smiling. “The baby is big.”  “Much bigger than any fairy has ever become during this ritual.”  “How much magic did the fairy use?”

             “All of her…. last ….. remaining …. magic,” Monica panted.

             “She must have had more than she realized,” Jasmine said, replacing the magical plate onto the chair.  “I must admit, I’m a bit worried now.”  “You’re quite small… I’m not sure you can deliver such a big baby!”

             “What?”  “What do you meaaaaaahhhhh!!!”

 Suddenly, the pain started up again.  It was agony such as Monica had never felt in her life.  The urge to push was unbearable!

             “OH, GOD…. Ahhhhh….. Ohhhh….. AHHHHH!”

             “PUSH, MONICA!”

             “MAKE IT STOP…. It hurts too much…. I can’t!!

             “Yes, you CAN… PUSH… Fight through the pain!

 Monica breathed and moaned and pushed.  It felt to her as if she was pushing a bowling ball down into her vagina.  She had never expected giving birth to hurt this much.  She pushed again, arching her back and gripping her legs, crying out in misery. Then, she slumped back onto the bed as her body gave her a bit of relief.

             “Good news, Monica,” Jasmine said brightly, “I can see the head, already.”

 Jasmine made her way to the shelf again and pulled out a small mirror.  She then crouched down beside Monica’s legs and positioned it, so that Monica could see the head for herself.  Monica was awestruck, until another contraction hit!

             “AHH…It HURTS….. Get her out of me....!!!”

 As Monica pushed, she felt a burning sensation around her vagina.  She had heard about this burning from the videos she had watched, but she did not realize how excruciating it was.  Monica squealed and moaned loudly, attempting to push.

             “That’s it, Monica, keep it up!”

             “OOOHHH….OOOOHHHHH…….AAAAHHHHHH…”

 The head continued to emerge with each push, and Jasmine was horrified to see just how big it was. Monica was stretched seemingly to her limit, and yet the head kept spreading her wider and wider. As Monica screamed and pushed, the head reached a point in which it stopped.  It did not try to go back in, but no matter how much Monica pushed, it would not move out anymore, either.

             “What’s happening?”  “Why can I not get it out?”  “Please, pull it OUT…”  “Make the pain STOP…”

 Monica was pleading with Jasmine!  The head was stuck, keeping Monica’s legs forced open wide.  Her legs trembled with pain and effort, and Monica continued to moan and pant in anguish.  Several more contractions hit Monica over the next hour, but the baby’s head still would not budge.  Monica was sweating furiously, and seemed to be losing energy.  Jasmine was now afraid for her new friend’s life…. She needed to get this baby out!

             “Monica, honey, this could kill you,” Jasmine proclaimed.  “You have to push harder.”  “If you don’t get the baby out, it will die, and so will you!”

             “I’m trying…. I can’t!”  “Please, just let me die!”  “Cut me open and get the baby out!”  “It hurts too much… I can’t go on!!”

             “No, I’m not going to do that… You can do it!”

             “I can’t!  The baby won’t move! It’s stuck… and we’re going to die!”

 Jasmine stared at Monica, thinking hard.  Finally, she stood up, with a determined look on her face.

             “There is one last thing I can try… It’s dangerous, and might not work, but it might be the only way…”

             “ANYTHING…. Just get it out… It hurts!”

             “It’s an emergency spell… I’ve never had to use it in all the time I’ve been delivering babies for the ritual.”  “I think now is the time, however.”

 Jasmine pulled out what looked like a small tree branch… perhaps a wand.  She touched the tip of this “wand” to Monica’s vagina, just above the baby’s head and uttered a soft, musical word that Monica could not understand. Instantly, the pain and contractions stopped.

             “What happened?” Monica breathed.  “What is that spell supposed to do?”

 Jasmine looked as if she regretted the answer, but she looked into Monica’s eyes and told her.

             “It will make your contractions more intense!”  “I think that is the only way to get this large baby out.”

 And then, just when Monica had thought she had been through so much pain and agony, everything got much worse!

           Monica felt her contractions increase seemingly a hundred-fold.  She screamed louder than she thought possible, as wave after wave of violent contractions washed over her.  She was having trouble catching her breath.  She wanted to beg Jasmine to do something, to give her anything, to stop this torture, but she could do nothing but scream.  She could not even push, but her body seemed to be doing that by itself anyway.

           Jasmine stood and watched Monica scream and scream with agony, utterly convinced that she had just killed her new friend in the most painful way possible.  Monica’s contractions had become so intense; Jasmine could actually see her belly and vagina pulsate over and over.  Monica’s legs shook and she began to thrash wildly, still squealing and screaming; she did not seem to be able to do anything else.  Jasmine knelt down and grabbed Monica’s arms, in an attempt to stop her injuring herself while she thrashed, and continued to look down at Monica’s opening.  What she saw filled her with new hope, for the head had begun to move again.  The violent contractions seemed to be working, forcing the large head out weather it was able to or not.

             “MONICA, it’s working,” she yelled over the girl’s screams.  “The head’s continuing to emerge.”  “PUSH!” “It’s all going to be over soon!”

 Mixed with the intense pain, Monica could feel the head sliding out of her slowly.  She fought to catch her breath and just focus on getting it out.

             “COME ON, GET OUT!!!.....  AAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH”

 After another tense, agonizing minute, the head finally slipped out with a loud wet squelching sound. The intense agony tempered down immediately afterward, and Monica was able to catch her breath again.  She gasped and panted; her throat raw from screaming.  Jasmine grabbed the wet cloth and wiped the baby’s head and face with it.

             “Ok, Monica, the head is out,” she said. “Now, we just have to get the rest of her… One more big push should do it.”  “I’ll try to help you.”

 Jasmine reached her fingers into Monica’s vagina and attempted to maneuver the baby’s shoulders so that they would come out one at a time, and therefore fit through.  This sensation was very uncomfortable to Monica, and she moaned through it.  However, her contractions were still quite intense, and began starting up again, and Monica did not dare to think that anything could feel worse that what she just went through to get the head out.

             “Here it comes,” Jasmine said.  “Now, PUSH!”

 Monica pushed, feeling more pain, burning, and pressure, as Jasmine kept her fingers between the baby and Monica’s skin, guiding the rest of the body out.

             “OOOOOHHHHHHHH……”

 After one final push that lasted 20 long seconds, the baby was born.  Jasmine caught her and began cleaning her off, as Monica slumped back onto the bed with relief.

             “Good Job, Monica,” Jasmine said, as the baby began to cry loudly.  “You did it”

 Jasmine grabbed a sharp knife from the shelf nearby and cut the umbilical cord.  She then placed the baby on a small cushion nearby and then waved her crystal object over it.

             “She’s 14 pounds,” Jasmine said with amazement. “You shouldn’t have been able to deliver her, but you did it.”

  Jasmine then presented the crying newborn to Monica, who had sat up, and she accepted her happily.

             “Wow, I did,” Monica exclaimed as she continued to stare at the baby as though she could not believe it.  “I had a baby!”  “I got through it!”  “I saved a fairy’s life!”  “Keri was right!”

             “Little Keri?” Jasmine asked in surprise.  “That was her?”

 Monica nodded, as she cuddled the newborn, which seemed to instantly calm her down.

             “I’ve know Keri for a long time,” Jasmine explained. “She was very young when the ritual was invented.”  “She had even helped me in the past with some of the volunteers and we became very good friends.”  “I never knew what happened to her…. I though she had died, actually.”

 Jasmine smiled at both Monica and the baby, feeling happier than she had felt in a long while.

             “I’m glad to know that Keri was able to have a ritual of her own,” Jasmine said brightly.  “She’s made it… and that’s all thanks to you, Monica!”  “You should be proud.”

 Monica rocked the baby until she fell asleep, still completely awed by all that had happened. Afterward, Monica looked up at Jasmine, smiling, with tears in her eyes.

             “Thank you, Jasmine,” Monica said to her.  “I couldn’t have done it without your help.”

             “I was glad to help,” Jasmine responded.  “But the real gratitude should go to you, Monica.” “You did not have to go though all of this, and yet you did, to save the life of a creature you didn’t know existed hours ago.”  “You truly are a good person.”

 Jasmine left the room for several seconds, and returned with a blanket, which she covered over Monica’s legs and lower abdomen.

             “You’ll have to stay here with me for a few days,” Jasmine said to her.  “I’ll take care of you while you recover.”  “Then, you can return to your life.”  “You’ve done enough.”  “I’ll take the baby and make arrangements to give her a home.”  

 Monica shook her head, and looked down at the baby lovingly.

             No, that old life is over now,” she told Jasmine. “When I’ve recovered, I want to take her and raise her myself.”  “Is that ok?”

             “Certainly, it is ok; are you sure?” Jasmine asked.

             “Yes,” Monica said.  “I’ll take good care of her.”  “I would love for her to be my daughter.”

 Jasmine nodded in agreement.

             “It is settled then,” she said.  “You can gladly take her, but as she is a new baby girl now, the old Keri has ceased to exist.”  “It is customary after the ritual for each fairy to be given a new name.” “As you will be her caretaker, and mother, you should be the one to give her that.”  “Do you have a name yet?”

 Monica though for a few seconds, then nodded, smiling.

             “I’ll name her Kari,” she said.  “It’s similar, yes, but that’s because it will always be a reminder to me where she came from.”  “Speaking of which, will I need to tell her about all this when she’s older?”

             “That will be up to you, Monica,” Jasmine answered. “You will know if it’s the right choice when the time comes.”  “Now, both of you should get some rest.”

 Jasmine reached over and took Kari from Monica’s arms gently.

             “I have somewhere she can rest comfortably,” Jasmine said quietly.  “You can stay in here and sleep.”  “I’ll make us both something to eat.”

             After a few days, Monica recovered, and left Jasmine’s cabin with baby Kari.  Afterward, she quit her old job without hesitation, and started a new life with her daughter.  Jasmine had taught Monica much about how to grow her own food during her stay. Therefore, inspired by Jasmine, Monica had her own cabin built, deep in the forest, and she and her daughter lived happily there for many years.  Eventually, Monica did tell Kari about her origins, and this inspired Kari to enter the medical field, as an OBGYN.

                                                                                                                                   End

[captains-simp]

Hi bestieeee, congratulations on 1K!!! I have a request for you!! Mommy!Nat or Dark!Nat blackmailing R into sex or else R would be fired?? Thank you

I wonder who this request is from?🤔

2.8k words

Warnings: dub-con (bordering on non-con), coercion, blackmail, unhealthy power dynamic, oral sex (giving), praise, strap on sex and cum filled strap on

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You knew Natasha was coming before you saw her; before you even heard the chilling sound of her heels against the polished floors of the 46th level. You knew because you saw it in your coworkers eyes. You saw the way they cowered behind their desks and averted their eyes or made a swift exit from the area entirely. You knew because that was just how it worked at Romanoff Industries.

You were lucky enough to have your own office. Well, that should have made you lucky in avoiding Natasha's piercing gaze but it did not. Most of the time she stalked down the area outside your office she came straight to you and even if it wasn't her destination she would be sure to look in as she went by.

That was one of your less fortunate days, she was coming to see you and it wasn't to deliver a compliment about your hard work. Your boss let herself into your office without knocking and strolled over to your desk, her hips swaying in the mesmerising way they always did in those incredibly tight skirts.

"What happened to that report that was meant to be sent to me hours ago?" She demanded as she stood in front of your desk.

"Apparently someone picked up on some faults of the latest design so we can't do anything right now." You tried to explain but Natasha never did like excuses. "I don't know when it will be fixed." You continued.

"And you didn't think to tell me this?" Natasha glared.

"I thought someone would have told you." You were right, a lot of someone's had told the redhead, but apparently she needed to hear it from you too. "It's not my job to." You couldn't help but add. You knew Natasha hated when people pointed out things she didn't want to hear, more so when they did so confidently. You were one of the few who managed it, maybe that was why Natasha seemed to have it out for you. It was just a compulsion to you, to one up your boss. Even if it rarely succeeded.

You had always had mixed feelings about Natasha. Sometimes you thought when she went home at night she venturer into some cave that led to the pits of hell where she returned to her rightful throne. Other times that tough and stubborn show she put on was nothing short of admirable. There was no doubt it was what got her her success and therefore gave you a job. It was just hard to deal with when it was aimed at you individually, or what you could argue felt like personally.

"Don't give me that." She snapped. You were aware of all the eyes of your coworkers looking in on the pair of you and hanging on every word that was exchanged.

"You know full fucking well if something you're doing is going to be delayed you tell me." She was leaning both hands on your desk and leaning over to get closer to you. With such a short distance between you you had no choice but to stare back into her forest green eyes, like hell you were going to look away and back down.

"You can write that fucking report anyway. I want it on my desk today." Today? There was no way you could get that done in office hours, you would have to be working long past when you were meant to usually go home. "And when the design has been fixed you can write another one on it." She was testing you, willing you to say something you would regret. You weren't going to fall into her trap.

"Okay." You said, holding her gaze.

She didn't say anything else. Natasha stood there for another few seconds to watch you, waiting for something, anything. Then she stood back up straight and headed towards the door that she slammed closed behind her and marched back to her own luxury office.

That could have been an email.

*

It was approaching midnight when you finished the report. You were about to email it to Natasha when you remembered she wanted it in paper form so you begrudgingly sent it off to the printer.

It was a waste of paper you thought as you trudged over to the elevator that quickly arrived as there was no one else in the building. You figured Natasha just wanted to be that extra bit difficult. Well, you knew that was what she was trying to do.

You had worked with Natasha for longer than most, you knew her. Or rather, you knew the front she painted. You knew what annoyed her, what she wanted, what she thought of certain people and you could predict how she would conduct business down to the exact price tag of a product. But you didn't know her personally, sometimes you wondered if there was anyone who did.

You knocked on your bosses door and waited until she called for you to come in. You planned to simply walk in, put the paper on her desk and walk out to go home but once you were several steps past the door Natasha called for you to close it.

She didn't look up at you as you trudged across the ridiculously big office and put the papers down. It was only when you turned around that she spoke again.

"Stay." Was all said. You bite back a comment about not being a dog.

You turned back around and expected some speech and your attitude earlier but continued making notes on a design plan like you weren't even in the room. A few minutes of you fidgeting on your feet and looking around the office for anything interesting, Natasha picked up your report and leaned back in her chair to read it. She showed no signs that you had done a good or bad job with the report.

Finally, she put the paper down on her desk and went back to the plans. "Close the door behind you." Was all she said. You clenched your jaw and rolled your eyes once turned around to finally leave and go home.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, y/n."

*

Turns out it wasn't as simple as writing two reports. Design after design failed. First there was a slight issue with the batteries, then the shape, then it somehow became a liability. You mentioned all these faults in your reports, as you legally had to, but it became tedious very quickly. You always hated paperwork. It was meant to be such a small part of your job. You could only hope the sudden increase was temporary, especially as it wasn't exactly one of your strengths.

You continued to work over time and met Natasha late at night, always having to wait until she finished reading till you could leave. You thought you had to be doing at least a good job with them for your boss to never say anything, because she was always ready to point out small errors. That was until one particular night.

"These reports are getting worse." Natasha scolded. The comment made your blood boil. They were certainly not getting worse, maybe the designs were but you knew it was no fault of yours.

"The designs don't work." You fired back and crossed your arms. You had been worked tirelessly on those reports and they only stated the facts.

"Do you even care about your job, y/n?" Natasha asked seriously, angering you more.

"I've sacrificed more than I ever thought I could for a job for this company."

"You're on thin fucking ice, l/n. With the way things are going I'd be in a right mind to fire you." ...what the fuck?!

"What?" It came out as more of a whisper. After everything that you had done for the company and the years you had spent there, Natasha wouldn't really fire you, would she?

"Unless you're willing to make up for it all." She said seriously with something unmistakably dark in her tone.

"I don't more extra hours than anyone here." You said, not knowing what else she could mean.

"Not more than me, something takes quite the toll. I can hardly fit the time in to distress anymore. That's where you come in." Natasha explained as she stood up from her chair and sauntered around to the other side of the desk, the sound of her heels clicking echoing around the room.

There was a long moment of silence when Natasha left barely any space between you. You searched her eyes for any hint of what she was referring to but inevitably found nothing. Until she suddenly pushed you down onto your knees in front of her.

"Show me what other skills you have and maybe I'll consider letting you stay." She smirked down at you and ran the back of her hand across your cheek before cupping your jaw. "Entirely your call."

"Natasha this is crazy." You tried to reason but it was hard to ignore the faint throbbing you felt from being on your knees for her. "I could tell someone." For the first time ever, you heard her laugh. She threw her head back in a mocking laugh that soon turned into taunting chuckles.

"Y/n, who would believe you over me? You can be my guest and try but you'll never have another job in this city again, maybe further if I feel like it." She shrugged. You gulped and felt your breathing shake. Fuck.

Natasha, apparently impatient, hiked up her skirt and leant back against her desk to look at you expectantly. Your mouth suddenly went dry when you caught sight of her bare pussy, having not had any underwear on. You wondered if she often sat around like that. If she sauntered around the building and into your office where you could easily let your fingers wander up her skirt. Did she always leave them off for you?

"If you want to keep your job I suggest you get to work." She spoke. You tentatively moved forward and gripped onto her thighs for support, still looking up at her for any signs of a tell.

She was positively soaked. You could see her clenching in anticipation, the sight and musky smell entirely inviting. So you licked a long strip of the redhead's folds and moaned at the sweet taste of her. Sweetness was hardly what you expected given the tough and cold exterior of your boss, you hadn't expected it to be so instantly addictive either.

You pushed your tongue further inside the redhead who gave a breathy moan in response. At that, your mind was made. You sucked harshly on Natasha's clit and felt it pulse rapidly between your lips before returning your tongue to where she needed it most.

"Look at how much you're enjoying this." Natasha smirked as she looked down at the beyond contented glint in your eyes. "So good at pleasing you like mommy."

You worked your tongue tirelessly inside her, spurred on by the blissful sounds that fell from the redhead's mouth with every flick and curl of your muscle. You were lost in the incomparable taste of her and hoped it would be something that lingered on your tongue for a while. You were in awe of the way her mouth hung open in a silent scream as her eyes clenched shut every time your tongue brushed against some beautiful nerve ending. The sounds she made when you did so rivalled the faux sweetness of a siren's song. You knew the dangers of being lulled too far but you wanted to explore it entirely, convinced there was some hidden beauty that no one else could see.

"Fuck, so good." Your grip on Natasha's thigh tightened when her hold on the back of your neck did. She started to buck her hips against your mouth and her breathing patterns became more irregular. Your boss seemed lost in the pleasure she was experiencing from you as her eyes shut firmly and her movements became more erratic. But even then she held onto her power over you.

"I want you to swallow every last fucking drop." She ordered and gasped when your nose bumped against her clit. You picked up the pace of your tongue, making sure to swipe it against all the spots you had learnt made her shudder.

Her nails were practically digging into your neck when she reached her high. Her breath got caught in her throat before she gave the most animalistic moan you had ever heard. She furiously bucked her hips against your face as she rode out her high and relished in every wave of pleasure.

She recovered impressively quickly and was still raring to go, apparently having more plans for the night. She smiled down at you with a glint of the devil in her eye as she stood back and turned around to retrieve something from her desk, telling you to sit on her chair.

You were anticipating Natasha to return the favour, especially given how much she clearly enjoyed what you had to offer. Instead, she slipped a harness through your legs and pulled it up to your waist where she fastened it to sit securely. It was only when she moved away that you saw the size of the red toy, standing proudly and daringly. You wouldn't be surprised if your boss couldn't make it fit, yet again about to see that you really didn't know her. She was unpredictable and nothing short of it.

Natasha straddled your legs until her knees hit the backrest of her chair and her cunt was lined up with the toy. You went to hold her waist to guide her but your boss grabbed your wrists harshly and pinned them to the chair either side of you with a warning look.

She lowered herself onto the toy and groaned when the head of the toy alone started to stretch her. She kept her strong grip on your wrists as she looked more of the strap and you could only watch on in awe as the fake cock disappeared inside her.

Natasha moaned loudly and paused half way to adjust herself and breathe heavily before slamming herself down on the rest of the toy. "God." She grunted. "Mommy feels so full."

"Let me help you mommy." You tried but she shook her head.

"You don't get to touch right now." Was all she said before she lifted herself partly off the toy and slammed back down drawing another beautiful moan.

Your boss continued this for a while until she found herself in a rhythm that pleasured her deeply. You could see her juices smeering the toy everytime she withdrew and the sight alone made you groan, you already wanted to taste her again.

She rode you with vigor as her pace increased as did her grip on you. Profanities spilled from her mouth like a song that you wanted to join in with but you were too fixated on the sight infront of you. Natasha's bra clearly wasn't all that supportive because her breasts bounced with each thrust downwards and you wished more than anything that you could reach out and take her top and bra off to cup them, even tweak her nipples between your fingers to see her squeal.

"Gonna cum- fuck! Mommy's gonna cum on your cock and you're going to fill me up more." She said between moans and gasps. You didn't really understand what she meant by fill her up more but you weren't going to object, not when you wanted to see her cum again so badly.

She suddenly let your right hand go and grabbed on to the back of the harness. You were confused until you felt something click and Natasha was moaning louder than she had all night. "Your cum feels so good in me." She all but screamed before jerking her hips wildly and cumming around the toy.

She fell forwards slightly and grinded against the toy to ride out her high desperately. You gripped her hips with your free hand and moaned when you saw some of the cum leaking out of Natasha's pussy.

With a groan, you pulled your other hand out of the redhead's grasp and lifted her up and down onto her desk where she looked up at you with blissful eyes. "Don't go thinking you have any control." Natasha sneered but gasped when you withdrew the strap and snapped your hips forwards again.

"We'll see."

[mjolnir-steve]

Foolish

Frank Adler x fem!Reader

Word count: 5027 (oop)

Warnings: light drinking, very brief mention of suicide, some cursing, smut (18+ ONLY!!!), unprotected sex (m/f) ... Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Hi, y’all! Here’s my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817’s Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge!!!! I haven’t written smut in a LONG time, so please be gentle with me LOL. Here’s what I got:

Frank Adler

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

Breeding / mutual pining 🥴

I’d like to dedicate this to @rodrikstark for always sharing the Frank Adler feels and @sparkledfirecracker for bullying me (with love) into finishing this. ❤️

If you like this fic, please comment and reblog!!! I hope you enjoy. :)

Fridays never seemed to come soon enough. You looked forward to the beginning of the weekend as much as the next person, but over the last few months, Friday nights took on new meaning for you. You moved to the trailer park a little less than a year ago, wanting to buy a small place of your own and start making a home for yourself. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t expensive, and it was only a ten-minute drive from your office where you’d just secured a promotion. Roberta, the manager, helped you make it feel like home right away, insisting on going with you to pick out paint samples and providing copies of menus for the best take-out in the area.

Before long, Roberta introduced you to the trailer park’s resident certified genius, Mary Adler. Mary and Roberta spent Saturday mornings with you when you were free, which unfortunately, was pretty much all the time. You played games, sang karaoke, and even let Mary’s one-eyed cat Fred come over. He took a liking to your swinging chair in the living room, and if Mary couldn’t find him at home, odds were he somehow squeezed through your window and ended up in that chair. 

Another two months had passed, though, before you met Mary’s uncle and guardian, Frank. You came to learn that Mary stayed with Roberta every Friday night because “Frank needs time to be an adult” and she was not allowed to come back to the house until noon on Saturdays. This information made you feel like Frank must be some kind of sad, perpetual fuckboy. You were right about the sad part, not so much about the latter. One morning while Mary played with your watercolors, Roberta let slip - ironically over a cup of tea - that Frank did have the occasional hookup, but usually, he drank himself sleepy on Friday nights and just needed the time to himself. He worked himself to the bone as a boat mechanic, often late into the night because it was too hot to do some jobs during the day. Frank took Mary in when she was just a baby after his sister, her mother, tragically committed suicide. He spent the majority of his scarce free time with Mary, so when Mary was still a toddler, Roberta offered the Friday night deal. Frank countered that he would do any repairs in the trailer park for free, but she refused to let him do that work without pay, saying he deserved to have a life, too. 

She also informed you that Frank was a former philosophy professor, single, and very attractive, especially if you were into the rugged thing. You rolled your eyes with an amused exhale and took another sip of your tea. You’d be lying if you said your interest wasn’t piqued. Mary then shouted over her shoulder, confirming that she’d been listening to your entire conversation, “Frank is great, but he’s a grump. Good luck cracking that egg.” You snorted, nearly spitting out your tea, and she went back to reading your color theory book to Fred.

With that, you heard a sharp rap at the door. You set your tea down on the kitchen table, curious who your visitor might be. You didn’t know anyone else in the trailer park, or in town, really. You opened the door, taking in the sight of possibly - no, definitely - the most handsome man you’d ever seen. You quickly guessed it was Frank, judging by the grease smeared on his quite large hands. His eyes, though tired, had the same bright look as Mary’s, and he had the most perfectly imperfect fluffy hair and overgrown stubble.

“Good morning,” he said with a sweet, closed-mouthed smile. “Is Mary here?”

You had to remind yourself to breathe. Stammering, you opened the door wider, gesturing inside. “Hi, y-yes. She is!” Why am I like this? “She’s just painting with Fred. Please, come in.” You moved aside so he could fit his broad shoulders through the doorframe and then held out your hand. “You must be Frank. I’m Y/N. Mary is just wonderful.” You smiled at him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

He took your hand in both of his, gentler than you’d expected. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m Frank. It’s great to meet you, finally.” He smiled wide for the first time and you were certain you’d pass out. Who LOOKS like this? “And thank you, she really is wonderful. I couldn’t do it without Roberta. She’s family.” He smiled and waved at Roberta, who was looking at you over the lip of her mug.

Mary didn’t even bother to turn around and face Frank. “What are you doing here, Frank? It’s only 11. I have a whole ‘nother hour with my friends.” You tried to keep your laugh quiet, covering your mouth with your hand and shaking your head.

“Well, excuse me for thinking you might like to go out on the boat with me this morning. I guess I’ll go by myself.”

Mary jumped up from the floor, scrambling to clean up your paints and books. “Can Y/N and Roberta come?”

Frank crouched down to meet Mary’s eyes. “Of course they can, if they’d like.” He looked back at you over his shoulder, trying to gauge your interest, then turning back to his niece. “But do you remember what I told you?”

You could see that Mary was making a conscious effort not to roll her eyes. “You told me that my adult friends have adult lives that include adult responsibilities, and they might not always be available to spend time with me.”

“And?” he looked at her expectantly.

“And I need to invite them to do things without assuming they will do them.” She couldn’t hold back her eye roll any longer, but she made sure not to let Frank see. “Roberta, Y/N, would you both like to join us on the boat today?”

You were amazed by the exchange taking place in front of you, able to see where some of Mary’s brains and tenacity came from. The conversation between the two flowed so easily, playful yet intelligent. It was clear that Frank treated Mary not as a child, but as a person, and you chided yourself internally for thinking that was kinda hot. 

Shaking yourself out of your mildly inappropriate thoughts, you responded. “I’d love to come, Mary.” You smiled at her, bending over to help her pick up the last of the paints from the floor. “Roberta?”

Roberta gave you a look and you just knew she planned this somehow. “I actually do have some of those adult responsibilities to handle today, but thank you for inviting me.” You sent a glare in her direction, quick but no less scathing. “Maybe next time.” She winked at you before washing out her mug and saying her goodbyes.

You spent the whole rest of the day and night with Frank and Mary, doing everything from building sandcastles to cooking dinner together. Mary eventually fell asleep in your lap as you were watching Oliver & Company, Frank’s favorite Disney film that had become Mary’s, too. “An underrated classic,” they told you in unison.

You helped Frank put Mary to bed, a task made easier after such a tiring day. “I guess I should get going.” You stood awkwardly in the small kitchen, unsure of yourself and painfully aware of how close your hand was to Frank’s resting on the counter.

“Yeah, I have a job early in the morning.” He looked down at his shoes, unable to look you in the eye, and you wondered if he hadn’t found your company as enjoyable as you’d found his.

“Listen, I don’t know if you’ve been to Ferg’s? The little bar down the road? I go every Friday night just to relax and have a few beers. Maybe you’d like to come with me next weekend?”

Is he asking me on a date? You could feel your heartbeat racing. The look on your face must not have matched the excitement you felt at the prospect of spending time alone with the dreamy, kind, sarcastic man in front of you. 

He felt like an idiot when you hesitated to answer. He clearly read everything wrong. He had to fix this. “It’s a good place to meet people, you know? I know you’re fairly new to the area, so if you’re looking for more local friends, it’s a good place to start.” He winced, hoping you couldn’t sense his embarrassment at thinking that you would want to go on a date with him.

You swallowed, trying not to let your disappointment show outwardly. Of course he’s not interested in me. Stupid. “Oh, yeah! That would be great, Frank. What time?”

Frank let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, relieved that you didn’t seem offended by his offer. “How’s 7? I’ll pick you up? We can walk over together.”

And that’s how Fridays came to mean so much to you. Almost every Friday for the last six months, Frank met you at your door and you walked to Ferg’s together. Frank told you it would be a good place to make new friends, but you paid no mind to the other patrons. You only had eyes for each other, yet neither of you could see it, even though Roberta pointed out (repeatedly) that neither of you had taken anyone else home in all that time.

The more time you spent with Frank, the more certain you were that God was real and your life was His favorite trainwreck reality TV series. Even if you could have customized a dream man Build-A-Bear style, Frank still would blow your creation out of the water. He was smart and funny, not to mention an adoring parent to Mary, to whom you grew more attached each day. He was kind and thoughtful, talented and hard-working. Although he was a grouch, as Mary would say, he always was sweet to you. He took a genuine interest in anything you had to say, whether you were venting about work or filling him on the latest episode of whatever show you were binging. He was ridiculously sexy without even trying. All those hours he spent doing manual labor in the sun did wonders for his physique. You’d only seen him completely shirtless on one occasion, and the image of him with sweat dripping down his chest was burned into your memory, fueling your late-night thots and causing you to break out your vibrator on what was now a regular basis.

Six months had come and gone in the blink of an eye, and you’d begun to accept that Frank didn’t want to be anything more than friends with you. You decided tonight was as good a night as any to talk to someone new, to start letting go of your unrequited feelings. 

You swapped out your usual jeans for a sundress, t-shirt bra for a push-up, and lip balm for lipstick. Putting your phone and some cash in a wristlet, you considered wearing your new strappy sandals. The walk to Ferg’s was about five minutes each way down a sandy road, though, and memories of the sticky floor inside aided your preferred pair of Converse in their victory for the night. 

Just as you finished tying your shoes, you heard a knock at the door. You adjusted your cleavage and fluffed your hair a final time with one last look in the mirror. Here goes.

Frank felt like he had the wind knocked out of him in the best possible way. He suddenly felt entirely underdressed in his aloha shirt, even though it was his go-to for nights out of the house. He’d never seen you dressed so nicely when you weren’t going to work. 

You were the kind of beautiful that didn’t require makeup. Your natural hair always framed your face perfectly, even if you didn’t think so. He thought you were adorable when you were concentrating on something, blowing your hair out of your face with a huff. Visions of your soft curves made their way into Frank’s dreams on more than one occasion. He had seen you in your swimsuit several times, sunbathing with Roberta and swimming with Mary at the beach. It wasn’t even all that revealing, but it accentuated your figure in ways that forced Frank into needing a cold shower or two. Above all, though, he admired your heart. You’d allowed Mary into your life without hesitation, spending time with her because you wanted to and allowing her to ask all those questions that Frank just wouldn’t be able to answer. It killed him that you didn’t see him the way he saw you, a perfect partner for him and a worthy maternal figure for Mary.

“Frank? You okay?” Your concerned voice shook him out of his thoughts, prompting him to close his mouth which apparently had opened wide in astonishment when you stood in the doorway.

“Yeah, um... You look…” He looked a little confused, his brow furrowed and lips pursed. “Why are you all dolled up? It’s only Ferg’s.” He wished he could’ve kicked himself in the teeth when your face fell at his question. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Shit. Let me try that again,” he nearly begged, running up to you to stop you from going back inside. “You look really nice, honey.” He ran his calloused hand up your forearm, but quickly returned it to his side when he realized what he’d done. “Is it a special occasion, though? Should I change?”

You gave him a watery smile, given that you were three seconds from slamming the door in his face and crying. “That’s better. Thank you.” You lightly pushed at his shoulder, trying and failing to ignore the electricity you felt at the contact. “No occasion, though. Just thought maybe it was about time I actually introduced myself to someone new.” 

You couldn’t quite read his reaction. Little did you know he was certain he just felt his heart physically crack in his chest. “What do you mean?”

The two of you started walking, the tension between you thickening the very air you breathed. “Well, when you first invited me to Ferg’s, you said maybe I’d get to know some other people in the area, right? But we’re always with each other. I’m sure you’re itching to talk to someone other than me. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Ah. Gotcha.” Frank abruptly reverted to the quiet, distant state he usually occupied before he met you. He sped up a bit, walking ahead of you and desperately attempting to school his features before you caught up with him.

Frank practically ran to the restroom, not slowing down even to hold the door open for you. You took a deep breath and rolled your shoulders, relaxing before entering the bar. Normally, whoever made it first would order drinks for you both, but Frank made it painfully clear that he had no desire to be in your company tonight. You ordered your usual, an Angry Orchard with a shot of Fireball in a tall glass. The combination tasted like apple cider, but the burn in your throat was caused by liquor rather than heat. It was strong enough to get you buzzed, but not so strong that you’d be stumbling home. You swallowed half the glass in one gulp, wanting to feel the warmth in your veins boosting your confidence as quickly as possible.

“Y/N? How are you?” You turned around, eyes meeting those of Jamie, your coworker. He leaned in for a hug and you accepted somewhat reluctantly, having interacted with him only in passing.

“Hey! I’m all right. What’s up?” You smiled at him, taking another sip of your drink. Jamie was not very subtly staring at your chest. You weren’t crazy about him, but the attention felt nice, so you allowed it.

“Not much. Just happy it’s Friday, ya know?” He looked around for a moment before returning his attention to you. “You’re usually here with that mechanic dude, right?”

You stifled a laugh thinking about how Frank would react if he heard himself referred to as “dude” by this prick. “Yeah, he’s around somewhere. We’re just-“

“-Just friends?” he finished for you with a hopeful look.

You nodded in response, looking him up and down. He was no Frank, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome. It had been so long since you’d even been kissed, and though you hated to admit it, you were touch-starved. One night couldn’t hurt, could it?

Meanwhile, Frank was splashing his face with cool water. He couldn’t believe he’d fucked up so royally. He was sure you didn’t want him how he wanted you, and now he was sure it was too late to tell you how he really felt.

He knew from the moment he saw you that he’d never get you out of his head. Roberta had been talking you up to Frank for weeks, but he wanted no part of it, mumbling something about there being “a reason why no one used matchmakers anymore.” He had no choice but to make your acquaintance when he was looking for Mary, and he’d never been so happy that Roberta could say she told him so.

Later that day at the beach, Mary approached him while you were dozing on a towel in the sand. She sat on his lap and reached for his face, using her pointer fingers to turn the straight line of his mouth up into a smile. “Roberta says you have a ‘charming’ smile, Frank. We think you should use it more.” He chuckled quietly, careful not to disturb you, and pulled Mary in close, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. She grimaced at the feeling, dramatically wiping at her face until he let her go back to reading with Fred.

The sound of the jukebox starting up cut short his reverie. He had to get out there and explain himself. Frank dried his face and hands with a paper towel before smacking his cheeks and stretching his neck back and forth to each shoulder. 

Frank exited the restroom only to find some douchebag staring at your ass as you leaned over toward the bar. He saw red when the piece of shit held out his hand behind his back while his friend slipped a twenty-dollar bill into it, seemingly winning some sort of bet.

Jamie didn’t stand a chance when Frank stormed in between the two of you. “That’s IT,” he yelled, so intense he borderline bellowed. He threw whatever cash he had in his pocket on the bar to pay for your drinks before he pulled you outside, almost getting to your door while you fought against his grip. He only stopped when you spun your body around like something out of Dancing with the Stars and jumped in front of him, forcing him to catch you.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, what are y-”

“-What are YOU doing, Frank? What the fuck was that?” You put your feet back down on the ground but remained facing him, arms crossed over your chest.

He groaned in frustration, suddenly realizing he actually had no clue how to respond. “Fuck.”

You looked at him, tapping your foot in anticipation.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.” He rubbed at his temples in the way he did when he felt a headache coming on.

“And how was he looking at me, Frank? What does it matter to you?”

“He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat and I… FUCK!”

You both turned when your neighbor opened his window. “Can you kids keep it down out here?”

You waved bashfully at the old man. “Sorry, Mr. Parker,” you said in unison.

“Come inside, Frankie.” The nickname that typically made him roll his eyes at you never had sounded sweeter, now that its use confirmed you didn’t hate him for the scene he made. You both toed off your shoes at the door before you made your way into the living room, motioning for him to sit next to you on the couch when he tried to sit in the armchair across the room.

You leaned forward, pinching his chin between your thumb and forefinger. “Now what’s going on in that sun-damaged brain of yours?”

He let out a laugh so soft you almost missed it, but you were glad you didn’t. Sitting back against the arm of the couch, you pulled a pillow into your lap and hugged it, giving Frank your full attention.

Frank cleared his throat, doing his best to accept that it was now or never. “That guy was leering at you, and it pissed me off. You deserve better, Y/N.” He pried your fingers from where they were locked around the pillow to hold your hands in his.

“If you want to meet new people, that’s great. If you don’t want to be with me, that’s a little less great, but I’d understand. He didn’t even pay for your drinks. And I th-”

You covered his mouth with one of your hands, and he knitted his brows in confusion. “You’re making it sound like it’s an option to be with you.” You were in disbelief, side-eyeing him, waiting for Ashton Kutcher to announce that you were, in fact, being Punk’d. 

The corners of his mouth lifted into the soft smile he reserved for you. It was the same one he gave you whether you were on a tangent about how “Obsessed” by Mariah Carey is “the single greatest diss track of all time” or you were helping Mary put a harness and leash on Fred “just to see how he’d do” on a walk.

“For a distinguished professor, you’re kind of a dummy, Frank.” You took his face in your hands, thrilled to be feeling his stubble against your palms. Before he could talk back to you, you kissed him, unsure how you denied yourselves such a simple yet extraordinary pleasure for so long. It only took a moment for him to relax into it, his hands removing the pillow between you before finding your waist and pulling you almost into his lap.

You deepened the kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. He pulled away first, pressing his forehead to yours. “Seems like we’re both dummies, huh?” 

You were going to ask why pulled away until you looked down to see a considerable tent forming in the front of his jeans. You laughed as he pulled you into a tight hug, one arm wrapped around you while the other hand held your face against his neck.

You kissed the side of his neck softly before leaning back to look at him. “All this time? I thought you didn’t see me this way.” You held his face, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You asked me to go to Ferg’s and then said I could meet other people, so I thought that was it, you know?”

He covered your hands with his and pecked your lips softly. “Honey, I thought it was the other way around. I was trying to ask you out and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.” You giggled, spluttering a bit because tears had started falling at some point. He wiped your tears away before swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down a bit. “We’re fools, aren’t we?”

You nodded slowly and Frank saw something wicked flash in your eyes before you took his thumb in your mouth, sucking lightly. “Jesus, honey.” His length hardened underneath you and you could feel the wetness beginning to pool in your panties, prompting you to grind down into his lap.

You released his thumb from your mouth, pressing your chest into his before kissing him again. “I think we’re only fools if we don’t take advantage of the rest of your adult time.” You removed your dress easily, returning your hands to Frank’s shoulders to push off his shirt.

He surged forward to kiss you again, working magic with his tongue against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he picked you up, walking you into the bedroom. Placing you on the bed carefully, he removed your bra and panties before pulling off his boxers and jeans in one go. You thought you wanted him before, but now that you could see everything he’d been hiding under his baggy clothes, you didn’t see how you could ever let him leave your bedroom.

The next few minutes were spent exploring each other’s mouths while Frank stretched you with his fingers. You didn’t think you’d ever been so wet in your life and thought you might pass out if you didn’t feel him inside you immediately. You gave his cock a few strokes before sliding his head through your folds, coating him in your slick.

“Waitwaitwait, honey. Do you have a condom?”

“You don’t need one if you don’t want one. It’s okay.”

He looked like you just gave him tomorrow’s winning lotto numbers, taking a deep breath to steady himself before he looked at you again. “Oh, God. Are you sure?”

“Mhm. I wanna feel you. Make me yours?”

“Anything you want, honey, but if you change your mind, just tell me, okay?” He lined himself up, seconds shy of entering you for the first time.

“I figured if you were gonna be possessive of me tonight, you might as well take it the whole nine, Frankie.” You laughed as he let out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously, though, I’m clean, I’m on the pill, and I’ve wanted you for a long time.” You reached up to scratch lightly through his chest hair.

“The only thing I wanna hear right now is you moaning for me.” He drove into you harshly, but waited a moment for you to adjust once he was seated to the hilt. “So damn wet and tight for me, honey. You’re so perfect, so beautiful.” He kissed you again before he began to move, slowly but surely making you lose your mind.

He dipped his head down to take one nipple in his mouth, then the other, effectively shutting you up and emptying all thoughts from your head. He nipped at the swell of your breast, soothing the bite with his tongue. “Fuck, Frank, please!”

“Please what, honey?” He picked up his pace, fucking into you so vigorously you moved up the bed. “Tell me what you need.”

“Make me cum, Frank. Please, baby, I need it. Need you,” you cried, leaning up to bite into his shoulder, stifling your moans.

“I wanna hear you, Y/N. I wanna hear those pretty moans while I’m making this perfect pussy cum for me.” The combination of his filthy words and the sight of him sucking on his own fingers before rubbing at your clit sent you over the edge, making you scream his name over and over again for what felt like forever and not long enough.

You could tell he was close, his hips stuttering and losing their rhythm. He began to pull out, unsure if you were willing to let him finish inside you, but knowing he was too close to wait for an answer.

You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him close, pushing him back into you. “Fill me up, Frank. I wanna feel all of you. Please give it to me,” you whimpered. His release triggered another for you, chanting each other’s names surely loud enough for the neighbors to hear. 

He stayed inside you as you both came down from your shared high, gingerly flipping you over so he laid on his back with you on his chest. He kissed the top of your head, fingers fluttering up and down your sides. 

“What’s on your mind now, Frankie?” You looked up at him through your lashes, mildly terrified of the answer.

He looked down at you with the most adoration you’d ever seen, lifting your chin so your eyes met his in the moonlight. “That wasn’t too soon, was it? You mean so much to me and to Mary. I don’t wanna mess this up. I don’t ever wanna hurt you. You’re the best thing in my life besides Mary, you know that?”

You kissed his chest before looking back up at him, smiling. “First of all, I would argue that wasn’t soon enough.” He hissed as you clenched around his still softening cock inside you.

“You’re evil.”

Winking at him, you continued tracing patterns on his chest with your fingers. “Second, that all kinda sounds like you might be in love with me, Frank Adler.”

His hands stopped moving for a second before he responded. “Would you run away if I said I am?”

“Well, I wouldn’t run away. This is my house.” You thought your heart might explode in your chest.

“I didn’t even say it, but I take it back,” he huffed, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“What if I told you I felt the same way?”

He grinned, sitting up to kiss you feverishly on your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips. You could feel him starting to harden again inside you, leading to round two of… well, you lost count.

You ate breakfast and showered together in time for Frank to return home before Mary did, agreeing to talk more later and to hold out on Roberta for a while.

Frank stood on your doorstep, leaning in to kiss you once more. All of a sudden, you heard a familiar meow and thanked God you were dressed and not in your robe.

“Frank, what are you doing here? I thought I’d come see Y/N since I’m not supposed to come home until noon.”

You bit your tongue to keep from cackling. Frank ran a hand over his face, his blissful bubble burst. He was getting you a hotel room next weekend.

[studiojeon]

troubled outsiders | intro - jjk

| summary | -  how you two end up pining for each other.

warnings: none :) 

content: idol!jungkook x student!oc, friends to lovers (because it’s THE superior trope okurrrt), jungkook is quiet and shy but a social butterfly when needed (and when it comes to oc but you’re not supposed to know that yet), oc is both a badass and a socially akward queen, she has TWO friends and only because one is dating the other (like... same), the Lee Charyeong is her bestie, oc works at bighit and feels like everyone either fears her or hates her, author nim is a crackhead and has no plot planned for this series whatsoever (doesn’t know if she’ll keep this up, we’ll see).

words: 1.93 k

His presence was overwhelming, to say the least. Even if he were surrounded by six hundred other equally handsome men, somehow, to you (and the majority of the female population, at that point) he was as captivating and magnetic as they come. Jeon Jungkook didn't pay no mind to no one, but sure as hell everyone became hyper aware of his existence and essence in time. And that didn’t exclude you.

Yet, as nonchalant and indifferent as the man could be perceived, in reality he was more considerate and friendly than the aura he exuded. You knew this because working in the same company had to teach a thing or two about the people who literally carried said company and the whole industry at some point, still you barely knew four or three people, including your assistant and Jungkook, whom you had met once.

The opportunity of working at the company had come to you out of the blue, quite literally, you were attempting to send one of your assignments in when an email appeared in your notifications during your sailor moon study break. 

HYBE Entertainment

We’re glad to inform you that you’re being recruited for the position of Logistics Manager in one of our sub companies, BIGHIT Entertainment. We’ve thoroughly looked through the CV you’ve submitted and are very interested in your capabilities and what you can contribute to our organization. One of our other managers will gladly meet you on a day you can both agree on. Make sure to answer this email to get more details about your interview.

“Nani!? THE FUCK?” sure as hell that your eyes and cognitive functions were deceiving you (ADHD) you went over the text a little over three times in a row before the message settled in your mind. This was sus. 

Before even considering a reply you made a quick call. “Fucking Lee Chaeryeong” you spat on your end of the line. “You did this, didn’t you?”.

Her silence was more than enough to have you cursing her under your breath. “I don’t know what exactly you’re talking about but it most likely was me. Does it have to do with a sex toy in particular?”

“No” you denied almost monotonously, guessing the pile of boxes in the corner of your room with her names on them was what she referred to. “Does anything come to mind if i mention BIGHIT FUCKING ENTERTAINMENT?”

It was her. All those conversations during the summer about how badly you wanted to work in the entertainment business as marketing staff of some sort had their effect on your friend, who, despite all your excuses and denials, knew you better than you and your mom combined did, and because of this, was sure as hell you were not making a move towards that goal whatsoever. So, being the boss bitch she was, she took matters into her own hands, was what she explained.

You concluded that was the reason you had reached a point in your life where you had more experience than most recently graduated kids in your field, because Chaeryeong had you moving every summer break. You had been the manager of a coffee franchise and convenience store during you junior and senior years, and also figured a way to improve the marketing management strategy of a fucking restaurant while at it. Not to toot your own horn, but you were kind of cool.

Or not. “I hope this job satisfies your workaholic ass for once, I’m running out of ideas”. Chaeryeong spat before hanging up.

Sure as hell it would. 

On friday afternoon, you made your way to the HYBE INSIGHT building and introduced yourself to your recruiters who promised to give you a call at some point. “It went fine” you told Chaeryeong once you were in your car. And it was the truth, however you weren’t so sure if they would actually hire you at some point since well, you were a girl in a male dominated industry and, in your opinion, there were always better people than you. “Wanna go grab coffee?”

“I want to. But, I have practice today. I’m actually on my way there. Please avoid driving through Hongdae today, this shit’s packed.” You sighed and thanked her for the heads up. You missed your friend, badly. You hadn’t seen each other in three weeks, and you didn’t even live so far away from each other (you did, but it had been worse before). You two had very agitated lives to say the least. Chaeryeong was a kpop group member, and well, you were jumping from job to job and getting your phD in Business Management at the same time. It was hard to find moments to spare together during some periods of the year, but you guess the anticipation made your encounters better.

“Talk about anticipation” you slammed your forehead against your desk, taking a breather after such an anxiety packed situation. Short story: you got the job (for some fucking reason). And you had gone through a whole week of expectancy and anguish. Not getting that job would have broken your heart, and ego at the same time. 

You guessed the law of attraction tactics Chaeryeong had taught you had sorted their effect and were what led you to your current position in life.

“Miss _____, your presentation’s ready” your work assistant gave you a comforting pat in the back as she took a seat somewhere next to you. You were nervous, shitless. It was your fifth week at the job, and being the proactive woman you were, you had collected lots of data in order to come up with a resources management plan.

It was a Thursday afternoon, and more than a hundred people sat in front of you, waiting for your speech. Including him, who you’d once bumped into accidentally during one of your data recollections runs inside the building. 

You hated having the need to impress others yet, hence your anxious behaviour. But this was a decisive moment in regards to your validation in your new job and how you’d continue to be perceived during your work stance (no reason to panic at all)… you needed to get it together.

“I think I just pissed off a bunch of old men right now,” you told your assistant right after you got off stage. “I need a bathroom break”. Linh gave you a reassuring smile, one she always had plastered on her face.

“Take as long as you need to. I’ll give you a call once the rest are done”.

The commute to the bathroom was unnecessarily complicated in your opinion. You had spent a little over a month rushing through the hallways of the building and you swore every single day your spatial orientation got a bit more fucked up. There was no way there wasn’t a single bathroom on the floor you were in, that would just be atrocious. “It’s not completed yet” someone said beside you as you stared at the half empty map the company had projected on a wall next to the elevators. “Where do you need to go?” 

Kim Taehyung of all people in the world was talking to your ugly and unworthy ass. Your breath caught in your throat and after staring for at least five seconds your body finally reacted to your orders. “Oh, um… the bathroom. I’ve been looking for it for a good ten minutes” you explained with a nervous laugh.

“Trust me, I get it. I still get lost over here” he smiled gently. “It’s in the hallway in the middle of the next hallway” 

You laughed at his very ambiguous explanation. “Thank you” you bowed your head and made your way to said destination.

It was in the hallway to your left, not your right, and it took you a while to figure out that new piece of information. Once you were staring at yourself in the mirror, you realized that you looked considerably tired and exhausted from all the social interaction you had undergone throughout the day. You were used to the side stares and whispering you’d get whenever you entered a room at that point, but some days you just wished you could get a break from them. After all, it wasn’t your fault you didn’t look Korean at all, and that you also didn’t fit the stereotype of a foreigner.

You got that from your mom, both the non Korean features and social fatigue. But that wasn’t even the problem most of the time, it was your friendly and smart nature which she had also passed onto you. Some would consider it a blessing, but to you it was a burden, like a clear glass that shielded you from introducing yourself into other people’s realities. You had few friends and people to trust, but in your everyday life you had to deal with the pressure of standing out too much and that came with a lot of negative energy from others. You sigh as you spray your favorite fragrance on yourself. You could be feeling like shit, but no one will ever catch you slipping.

But that excluded him apparently. You hadn’t noticed that on the other side of the hallway was the men’s bathroom and the realization hit you as you were calmly getting some tea from the vending machine. “Good afternoon” the man greeted you as he made his way out the hallway, but stopped in his tracks right after he noticed you. “_____! Hi” he smiled at you and you wanted to die, suddenly forgetting what you were ordering in the first place.

“H-hi Jungkook” You smiled back, poorly attempting to put your wallet back into your backpack. 

“Need help there?” he noticed your agitated state and held your bag for you. He smelled just as heavenly as you had expected, somewhat between big dick energy and flowers. Oh, and he also remained as kind and polite as you remembered him.

Seeming as if he wasn’t planning on continuing his path to wherever he was heading to in the first place, he stood quietly by your side, waiting for you to be done with your deal. “How have you been?” you break the ice for him.

Quickly, you grab your tea and start walking back to the auditorium together, unaware of your surroundings or the suspicions that could arise. “Busy, but very good. How have you been? I saw your presentation earlier… I wish I understood half of what you said but you still sounded amazing”.

And you would never admit it out loud, but you were positive you were blushing (and falling in love too - platonically, of course). “Oh god, you think so? I basically told them they’ve been doing things wrong all along so maybe you’re the only one who’s appreciative of my work” you handed him the second can of iced tea you bought without him noticing. You swear his eyes lit up like stars in the night sky. “Payback for the other day” you smile at him.

The first time you two had crossed paths you didn’t look nearly as glamorous as you did now. In fact, you looked incredibly disturbed and in pain, carrying a huge pile of paperwork in your hands. But as soon as sweet Jungkook noticed your state, he offered you a hand and somehow ended up helping through your multiple data collecting trips that afternoon. It was a nice day.

“Anytime” he took the can in his hands with a shy look on his face. “Unless I’m practicing, you know…” you look down at his feet, with huge black boots engulfing them, and you smile due to their contrast with his personality. “Here, i’ll give you my number so you can call me whenever you need to put all those papers back. Hopefully I’ll be around” he added as he pulled his phone from his back pocket.

Way to get a girl’s number, my god.

[villainous-thorn]

Hello, can I interest you in Hero x Sidekick shipping dynamic where the first one has no self preservation and Sidekick is very protective and morally gray but hero doesn't seem to recognise it, so that even Mentor/Superhero comments on that, trying to "warn" their student/subordinate for whom they absolutely do not have any feelings, nuhuh (they're lying)

Sidekick is aware of Mentor's/Superhero intentions and kinda go extra-possesive and rub their relationship with Hero to their face? Hero, being the oblivious nice person they are, just think about it like some silly jealousy. You can go as dark/twisted as you wish, or turn it into fluffiness, but Hero is whipped for Sidekick regardless :D maybe even turn it into a poly if you wish, go crazy!

(your content featuring Sidekick is like a fresh water-)

Sorry this took so long, I had some trouble writing it and left it a little open ended in case I get inspiration for it again! But here's what I have, hope its sufficient!

Hero’s throat burned raw from smoke; they couldn’t help the hacks that evacuated their lungs in debilitating intervals as they searched for more survivors. The fire had spread at a rapid pace in the cramped apartment building right around the corner of Hero’s home, and thanks to their constantly running police scanner, Hero and Sidekick were some of the first on the scene. Not their usual mission, but they were much closer than the fire department, and they could help in the meantime.

But now it didn’t seem like the best idea to charge in without any gear as Sidekick held onto Hero’s sweaty hand, trying to guide them both outside. Through their coughing fit the do-gooder heard a high whimper close by. They were on the third floor, if someone or something was still up there, they wouldn’t be alive for much longer. Hero dashed towards the sound, breaking free from Sidekick’s grasp as they hopelessly called out for their superior.

Hero collapsed what was left of a smoldering door to survey the area for what could have made the sound, their eyes finally landing on a small dog huddled under a kitchen chair surrounded by flames. Sidekick quickly entered behind them, they saw the animal and rolled their eyes. “Hero! We need to get out of here, now!” The sidekick shouted, “Leave the damned mutt! You’re not well!”

But as Hero always did, they charged headfirst into the raging inferno, plucking the pup from the floor and hissing in pain at the flames. Fuck, Sidekick thought. The crime-fighter rushed back to their ally, the rubber on their boots boiling the bottom of their feet. The dog yipped as the three hurried down the stairs of the building and out the fire escape. Hero harshly collapsed to the ground in another fit, letting the pup run to its owners, blood staining their tongue as they hopelessly tried to inhale between coughs.

Sidekick helped them up, thankfully not having spent as much time in the smoke filled building as their hero who suddenly couldn’t catch their breath at all, terrifyingly clawing at their subordinate, trying to somehow communicate their situation. They didn’t need to though, Sidekick hadn’t heard them take in any air in a while, that was really fucking bad, and Hero’s expression did nothing to calm their nerves. Sidekick waved down a paramedic, explaining that Hero needed an oxygen mask, NOW. They wasted no time rushing the savior to an ambulance for medical assistance.

-

“You know you’re not obligated to throw yourself in harm’s way when literally the most insignificant things are in danger…” Sidekick commented, wrapping a bandage around the hero’s arm for what was probably the hundredth time in the last two months. Hero had refused any more medical treatment from the medics, instead allowing other civilians the attention since they healed quicker than any civies. Despite how irrational Sidekick thought their deep devotion to the preservation of life was, they couldn’t help but smile whenever Hero saved the day.

“I’m a hero, it’s my job. Protect and serve!” The savior beamed happily, despite currently being patched up for second degree burns. Sidekick couldn’t help the grin that spread across their face as their eyes rolled. Truly their hero wasn’t the brightest, but they were the kindest, and the most beautiful, inside and out.

“Well, I wish you would ‘protect and serve’ yourself more often, sweetness.” Sidekick mumbled. Hero turned to face them, holding their hand with the gauze as they gazed into their underling’s eyes, “I’ll try, just for you.” They promised, though Sidekick knew they were genuine, that promise had been made many times before and broken within the next week or two. They supposed it was difficult for Hero to shake the habit of feeling invincible, they had been flirting with death for a while, but someday their number would be up, and Sidekick would kill anything they had to before they let death flirt back at their beloved Hero.

Sidekick was so loving, Hero didn’t know why Superhero tried to convince them otherwise, maybe so they could suggest someone Superhero preferred better, but it was Hero’s choice, and they adored Sidekick! They always did their best and watched out for Hero when Superhero couldn’t. Plus, Superhero had a whole team to run, it wasn’t like Hero would be that important to them anyway, right?

-

Superhero knew something was up when they started to hear from Hero less and less, it was only ever Sidekick that confirmed their objectives and missions assigned. It wasn’t simply alarming, Superhero also missed Hero, they had been so close and Superhero cared for them deeply. Maybe a little too deeply, but they would never admit that out loud.

It was only after a heartfelt talk with the two that Sidekick started pulling Hero away from Superhero, for seemingly no reason. The times they were able to speak to Hero they tried to explain what Sidekick was doing, and how the behavior was troubling, how Sidekick’s behavior had always been a little unsettling. Superhero had failed to see it before, blinded by their pride in Hero, but as they started to resent the sidekick the more they realized Sidekick was not a good person. At least not as good as Hero, who was head strong and caring and selfless and kind and wonderful. A perfect hero. A perfect person. It made sense that Sidekick would want them for themselves, but that was also extremely selfish of them. And selfishness was not a good attribute to have as a sidekick.

No, something had to be done about Sidekick, and Superhero would see to that themselves…

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Nobody Left Behind

Prompt: So I don't know if you're taking requests? But I just watched Lilo and Stitch for the first time since I got into TSS and I've adopted the headcanon that it is Remus's *favorite* movie (and he's memorized the script) and I love your writing and I'd love to see something angsty involving Remus feeling lonely/unloved by his brother, and maybe Lilo and Stitch is involved somehow. IDK, go wild. (and feel free to ignore this if you aren't taking requests) <3 - anon

it is Le Fluff™ hours my good bitches

Read on Ao3

Warnings: Remus has some abandonment issues, but it’s not too much

Pairings: it is platonic all the way down, babes

Word Count:  2935

Ohana means family.

 Family.

 FamILY.

 What a weird word.

Sometimes it’s the people you’re born with. Well, not ‘with,’ not necessarily, but the people you are born to. A mother, a father, a sister, a brother. Sometimes two mothers, sometimes two fathers, sometimes a different parent. Sometimes two sisters, sometimes two brothers, sometimes a different sibling. Sometimes a mess of assorted people that all share the same blood. A family.

 Remus wasn’t born.

 He was made though, crafted and shaped and born out of the swirling chaos of a child’s mind that didn’t understand the world well enough without other people to help. He remembers getting cobbled together from scraps of thoughts and feelings and morphing them into limbs, into features, into something that vaguely resembled the body of the child he was made to fit. Not the ‘fitting’ was ever his job.

 Just his brother’s.

 Is his brother his family?

 By all accounts he should be, right? A brother is one of those people that are traditionally part of the ‘family’ group, right, someone to laugh with, cry with, fight with, live with. But is Roman really his…brother?

 That’s what they decided to call themselves because nothing else worked. They weren’t really brothers, they were halves. But they weren’t really halves because there was never a whole to begin with.

 The King wasn’t a ‘whole,’ he was…well, he was the King. Half of a king is not a prince. Half of a king is not a duke.

 Half of a king is a mess of blood and bones and viscera dripping off of the end of a Morningstar in the middle of the night when only a destroyed facsimile makes the insanity bleed away just enough to breathe again.

 The closest thing to twins, is what they decided on eventually. They’re twins. One light, one dark. One that marches boldly into danger to confront the wickedness of the world, one that dwells in the shadows and cackles with the demons nipping at his heels. One that loves, one that isn’t loved.

 Sure, they had some things in common. They both loved to fight, hence the scars and the bruises and the wounds that would never, ever heal, the distrust that would never be fixed ever, because the urge to sink their teeth into each other’s necks and rip never went away. They both loved to make, Roman the peaceful lies he tells himself to make up for the gaping wounds Remus leaves as he carves his perfectly tailored destruction. They both love Disney.

 Roman’s made it part of his whole deal as the Prince, he loves Disney. He bursts into song every chance he gets, drags the others in until the Mindscape rings with joyful song and there’s nowhere left for any sadness or darkness. He takes his lessons from it, models himself using the traits of the characters he admires most. Cultivates his art of storytelling, perfect to a tee.

 Remus loves Disney too. Loves how easy it is to twist the lens to distort the image just enough to let the darker parts of the Imagination run wild. What is the real implication of never growing old, never understanding what it means to die? What kind of person curses a ten-year-old boy for being cautious about who he answers the door to? What could the story have been if the prince never comes to save the day?

 When they were smaller it was fine. When they were still getting used to the fact that they weren’t King anymore, they used to sit and watch so many Disney movies. Roman’s favorite was always changing, one week it was Beauty and the Beast, then it was Mulan, then it was Cinderella, it never stayed the same.

 Remus’s was always Lilo and Stitch.

 Roman never understood it, said it was boring, there wasn’t a prince, there wasn’t anything exciting. Remus said that aliens were plenty exciting, thank you very much.

 But they would always watch it. The King wasn’t there anymore, but the prince and the Duke were.

 …when they were smaller, there was one time where the prince wasn’t there at all.

 Remus remembers waking up one day and feeling like he was being Split all over again. The maggots in his bones reached their awful little mouths into his heart and pulled, yanking him all the way across the bed and to the door, howling and screaming for his twin.

 Only to be met with a blank wall.

 He remembers howling at the top of his lungs until Janus had rushed to his side, kneeling down next to him and telling him shh, be quiet, hush now, you’re alright, you’re not hurt. And when he couldn’t explain that he was hurt, half of him was missing, Remus needed to go find him, Janus’s mouth had hardened into a thin line and told him that there wasn’t anything to worry about.

 He remembers thinking that was a lie.

 But it wasn’t. It wasn’t a lie.

 Roman was fine.

 Roman was more than fine, because Roman had a family.

 Roman had Patton, who is the actual manifestation of sunshine and rainbows and loved so much it almost burns. The darkness that wrapped around Remus’s corner of the Imagination screeched and hissed at the very idea of being loved that much, even as part of him strained with all its might to get to it. But Patton would never set foot near this side of the Mindscape.

 Roman had Logan, who represents everything true about the Mindscape, about Thomas, about the world. The reality of things that would never let anything Remus created make it anywhere close to anything important because it was dangerous, it was hurtful, and it was wrong. Logan wouldn’t want anything to do with something so useless.

 And that was okay. Because Roman may have been gone but Remus wasn’t alone. Remus had Virgil, who lived with fear soaking every fiber of his being. Remus had Janus, who wrapped himself in darkness and obscurity and laughed.

 But then Virgil left. And now Roman had Virgil, who used Thomas’s anxieties to keep him safe, to help Roman and the others figure out what to do, how to take care of everybody, and how to make the darkness go away. And Virgil would never willingly sink himself back into the darkness when he’d spent so long clawing himself out of it.

 But that was okay, because Remus had Janus. Janus, who plotted and schemed and smirked at how easily the others were pulled along by his strings, luring them deeper and deeper as Remus readied his Morningstar for the trap to be sprung.

 But then they sprung the trap and everything went wrong.

 Roman didn’t want to fight. He just…he let Remus knock him out and didn’t show up again except to scoff and say he didn’t like him.

 And that was…wrong.

 Because Roman wasn’t supposed to like him but he was never only supposed to not like him. Roman was supposed to declare that he wasn’t welcome and try and slash him with his sword. Roman was supposed to try and banish him from the Mindscape and spit insults at him until he left, cackling all the while. Roman was supposed to hate him.

 But Roman didn’t hate him, he just…he just said he didn’t like him.

 But that was okay, because Janus could just come up with a better plan with him this time. They could do it properly, and Roman would hate him again and it would be back to normal.

 But then Janus left. And now Roman has Janus, who keeps his eyes where the prince’s aren’t, when he can’t see what’s happening or he can’t bear to look, to help Roman figure out what to do when what seems to be happening isn’t anything that the prince is used to dealing with. And Janus would never willingly step away from a place that finally accepted him.

 Roman has them now. Roman has people that chose him. Roman’s family chose him. He chose them. They chose each other.

 Remus’s grip on his Morningstar slackens and the thing falls to the ground with a heavy clunk. He moves numbly through his room until he can fall to his knees on his bed.

 He just came from the living room. They were all there. Roman was talking with Logan, ranting about some new show they were both watching. Janus was in the kitchen with Patton, making something for dinner that everyone—well, almost everyone—could eat. Virgil was on the back of the couch, reaching out for Roman’s shoulder every once in a while.

Remus had waited behind the couch. For someone to sit down, for someone to see him and shriek, or even maybe—just maybe—for someone to ask where he was.

 But no.

 Patton had come over and gently ruffled Virgil’s hair, saying that dinner was ready. Logan and Roman had moved into the kitchen, demanding Janus’s attention and pulling him into their conversation. Virgil had murmured a quiet thank you and Roman had asked him for what?

 “Y’know,” Virgil had said, “for…this.”

 “Of course,” Roman had laughed, the soft rustle of fabric as he probably pulled the emo in for a hug—what did those feel like?— “I should be thanking you?”

 “What for, kiddo?”

 “I dunno, it just…feels like it’s been forever since we’ve all sat down for dinner together.”

 Remus’s chest had started to hurt.

 “The whole family.”

 The whole family.

 Remus’s eyes well up with stubborn tears and he angrily swipes them away, baring his teeth at the memory and focusing intently on the things on the bed. Each hand-stitched, each carefully kept clean.

 His family.

 He reaches out with a shaking hand and tucks the blue frog plushie into the crook of his arm, crawling into the middle of the bed and balancing the purple spider on his shoulder. His hands keep shaking as he wraps the long yellow snake securely around his neck, clutching the head under his chin and nuzzling it protectively. The dark blue cat he holds in his other hand, careful not to tear its tie as he scrunches in on himself.

 Wait.

 Wait.

 Where is it?

 No, no, no, no—

 Remus growls, placing all of his family gently on the floor before all but tearing at his sheets. Where is it, where is it, where is it—his heartbeat starts to rise as his search grows more frantic, where is it, where is it—

 The slightest little puff of red hair and he howls, lunging for it and sweeping it into his lap. He pauses to make sure the lion’s crown didn’t fall off and sighs when he sees it still in place. He sets the lion between his legs and leans over, adjusting everyone back into place and scrunching himself into a ball again. He rubs his nose against the lion’s fur and nuzzles into the soft fabric.

 He’d never be able to forgive himself if he lost them.

 Because Ohana means family.

 Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten.

——————————————————

There’s a knock on his door.

 Why is someone knocking on his door?

 They knock again.

 Remus looks up, carefully butting the spider out of the way with his head and sitting up. The snake hangs off his shoulder and he lets it, only missing its warmth once the knock sounds again.

 The frog and the cat watch him warily as he climbs out of bed, the lion clutched in his hand.

 The door squeaks slightly as he opens it.

 “So, I’ve got popcorn, I found the weird gummy snakes, and they had this chocolate-covered bacon which we have to try—Remus?”

 Roman?

 Roman stands there, his arms full of snacks and blankets, his head tilted. He glances behind Remus—probably to check something or other—and then back at him.

 “Remus? Are you okay?”

 “Why are you here?” Roman doesn’t like him.

 “It’s movie night, Re, of course, I’m here.” Roman chuckles nervously before taking in his tear-stained face. “Hey, Re, what’s going on? Are you okay? Can I come in?”

 Why is Roman here? Roman has his family, what is he doing here? With Remus?

 “Remus—“ oh, right, Roman’s talking to him—why is Roman talking to him?—in a soft voice now— “Remus, hey, look at me.”

 Remus blinks. Oh. Roman looks concerned now, he’s reaching for him.

 “Hey,” he murmurs as he ruffles Remus’s hair, “what’s going on? Have you been crying?”

 Remus nods dumbly.

 “I’m sorry, Re, can I help?”

 Help? Why does Roman want to help?

 Oh, he’s waiting for an answer.

 “…sure.”

 “Thank you,” Roman says softly, “can I come in?”

 Remus steps aside wordlessly and Roman walks in, pausing when he sees the rest of Remus’s family on the bed.

 “Did you make them?”

 Something dark twists in Remus’s chest as he sees Roman reach for the spider.

 “Don’t.”

Roman backs off, stepping back as Remus snatches up his family and cradles them in his lap, glaring at Roman and curling up on the bed.

 “I won’t, Re, I’m sorry,” Roman says, still speaking softly, “can I sit?”

 “…floor.”

 Roman sits on the floor, setting aside the blankets and snacks, looking up at him. He still looks concerned. Why? Roman doesn’t like him.

 “Why weren’t you at dinner,” he asks gently, “I was worried.”

 Worried? About him? Remus snorts.

 “You had your whole family there,” he spits, “why would you worry?”

 “But you weren’t there,” Roman says like that makes any difference, “so I was worried.”

 Remus shakes his head. Roman doesn’t get it. Roman doesn’t worry about him, he worries about other things. But if Roman wants to know why he wasn’t at dinner, he’ll tell him.

 “I was with my family.”

 Roman’s brow furrows as he glances around again. “…your family?”

 Remus huddles protectively around his family. “Yes. My family.”

 Roman’s eyes widen as he takes in Remus’s posture and how he reacted when Roman asked about them earlier.

 “…are they your family, Remus?”

 “Yes.” He holds them tighter. “I chose them. They won’t leave me. They won’t forget me. That’s what family means.”

 Something crosses Roman’s face and he lets out a wounded noise. Wait. Are they fighting?

 “Wait, Remus,” he murmurs, rising up to his knees, “did you—did you think we forgot you?”

 “You did forget me.”

 “I’m sorry, Remus, I would’ve come to look for you, but I thought—“ Roman shakes his head— “no, it doesn’t matter what I thought. I should’ve come got you, Re, I’m sorry, I—I didn’t mean to leave you behind.”

 Oh.

 “…you didn’t?”

 Roman shakes his head furiously. “No, Remus, I promise. I never meant to leave you.”

 “But everybody leaves me.”

 If possible, Roman’s eyes are now wider and he scrambles for the edge of the bed. “What do you mean, Remus, what do you mean everybody leaves you?”

 “You left. Virgil left. Janus left. Everybody left.” The lion’s mane brushes against his lips as he bows his head. “But not them. They won’t leave me.”

 “Oh, Remus—“

 Something big lunges at him and Remus whimpers, he doesn’t have his Morningstar, he doesn’t want to fight, he doesn’t—he doesn’t—

 What’s happening? He feels warm and he’s being squished and Roman is pressing himself against him and what—what—

 “What’re you doing?”

 “It’s a hug, Remus,” comes Roman’s voice, slightly muffled, from over his shoulder, “I’m hugging you.”

 Oh.

 Oh.

 “R-Ro?”

 “Yeah, Re, I’m here, I’m right here, I won’t forget you, I won’t leave you behind, you’re my brother, you’re my family, I choose you.” Roman’s grip tightens on him and Remus just about gasps. “I choose you and I want you and I like you.”

 Roman…Roman likes him?

 Roman chooses him?

 Roman won’t…leave?

 “No, Remus,” Roman promises as he cautiously asks, “I won’t leave. Not unless you want me to.”

 “No.”

 “Then I’m not going anywhere.”

 That’s it.

 Remus throws his arms around his twin and sobs, cries an entire ocean of tears into his brother’s shoulder because he’s here and he cares and he chose Remus. The darkness shudders as that small part of him surges forward, into Roman’s chest, finding a home in the prince’s heart and languishing in the warmth there.

 “I’m right here, Re,” Roman murmurs, stroking up and down his back, “right here, I’ve got you.”

 The snake drapes itself cautiously over Roman’s shoulder, the spider taking up watch on his knee. The cat and the frog stare at him, making sure he isn’t lying, that he won’t change his mind. The lion, sandwiched between them, feels the reassuring rumble from Roman’s chest and purrs.

 After a long, long time, Remus pulls back a little and scuffs a hand over his nose.

 “…did you say something about chocolate-covered bacon?”

 Roman’s smile lights up.

 “Let’s put on Lilo and Stitch and we’ll try it.”

 Ohana means family.

 Family means no one gets left behind.

 Or forgotten.

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