#like oh. oh buddy. you have NO fucking clue what effort youre about to put in for some covers in like 2 years

[synthshenanigans]

Next Round :D

-Vote for what you think is more underrated but also what you still like a lot-

Also! Fun fact, Dad 3 is the oldest video he's uploaded on Chonny Jash! The song is totally a very serious song, one of the most heartwretching songs he's covered.

Its likely you haven't heard it, so have at it here if you'd like.

[RB for more votes if ye'd like]

[thequietmanno1]

Thelreads, MHA 255, Replies Part 2

1)“Now it`s not the time, he`s back but we don`t know for how long, we have to make sure we get all info we can out of him. “-Phelps is already on that, making sure that Kumo knows what he needs to spend the few seconds of control he’s managed to win from his ‘other self’ count for.

2) “OH GOD HERE WE GO, HE`S FIGHTING SO HARD AGAINST IT, AGAINST THE CONTROL THAT WAS DRILLED ON HIS BRAIN- OH GOD I JUST HOPE THIS IS NOT TOO MUCH FOR HIM TO HANDLE, THOSE BEEPS ON THE MACHINE DON`T SEEM TO POINT AT A VERY HEALTHY SITUATION ON HIS BRAIN.”- I like that, even as blurred-out and difficult to make out as his facial expression is underneath the fog, Horikoshi managed to draw enough details that you can see his eyes rolling back into his head from the mental effort he’s exerting to remain in control long enough to order his twisted thoughts enough to identify the most crucial piece of information he can pass along in the short while he’s got before he’s gone again. 3) “DON`T WORRY OL` BUDDY, I`LL BE GOING TO A HOSPITAL AFTER THIS BECAUSE I MIGHT END UP PASSING OUT CONSIDERING HOW MUCH THIS CHAPTER IS MAKING MY HEART GO BANANAS”- ‘Hospital’ as in, the kind of location you’d expect somebody with the kind of extensive medical training necessary to make the Nomu, where they could use their skills on ordinary patients and hide the need to procure advanced technology to perfect their biological remodelling- the same sort of biological remodelling that Tomura’s currently undergoing. Kumo didn’t have a lot of time, but he did manage to give them a clue towards the supporter running AFO’s ‘game’ and supporting Tomura from the shadows whilst the big man himself is on Hiatus in Tartarus. 4) “OH FUCK OH NO I THINK HE`S TRYING TO ESCAPE

EITHER THE PHYSICAL JAIL OR THE JAIL THAT IS HIS BODY, AND EITHER OF THEM CAN END TERRIBLY”- Sadly, there will be not mental jailbreak today- only heartbreak on all sides of the glass wall. 5) So, this is basically Shirakumo’s whole existence right now, as dictated by Horikoshi.

6) “But it seems like not only there really is the old Shirakumo down there somewhere, he`s now awake from his slumber, and he`ll definitely try to claw his way out… eventually. And he`ll have to do it on his own, Aizawa won`t be able to be here to help him again.”- He can offer him moral support all the way which… is both the most useful, and what he feels would be the most useless thing he could do to help his friend right now.

7) “They didn`t do “great” Phelps, they did “fucking amazing and they shouldn`t have to go through something so fucked up as that ever again”, alright? There`s a bit of a difference there”- Sadly, now they know Kumo’s in there, they’re gonna regularly repeat this process every chance they get until they can extradite their old pal from AFO’s brainwashing, no matter how much it hurts.

8) “It`s alright Aizawa, I`m pretty sure they have been dried for a long time now, right? Over a decade at least… You can let your heart solve that problem right now, alright? Feel free to put everything out.”- I can’t help but wonder how manytherapy sessions this trio are going to need individually before any of them are even close to Ok anymore… and which one will take the most out of the three to be alright again.

9) “Yeah Aizawa, the last thing he remember is being crushed by a rock, I would be surprised if his last thoughts before the lights went out weren`t of wanting to go to an hospital, alright?”- Not quite…. Kumo’s last thoughts would likely have been ‘Is Shoto and the kids alright?’ even as the rubble smashed his skull, so saying something like that is as close to a specific clue he could give towards pointing out the hidden variable supporting the Villains and Tomura in AFO’s absence. No-one knows about Ujiko’s existence at all, and he’s gone out of his way to keep it like that to maximise his advantage, but now, at last, the heroes finally have a hint towards causing some major upset to AFO’s ongoing plans…assuming they can find him fast enough (looks worriedly at the calendar)

10) “That`s actually a good question, because although it might be extremely hard, he has shown that there`s a chance of bringing him back, at least some of him that is. But that will mean that Aizawa will need to be here again for it… He`ll have to go through this hell again and again…”- Honestly, given his somewhat self-destructive tendencies after Kumo’s passing, I think Aizawa will be fine with volunteering for further sessions like this. At least this way he feels like he’s doing something to save his old friend at last, no matter how long it takes, or how painful it is. 11) “And alas, it`s time for the potato bastard to give his diabolical little monologue on how he`s god and blah blah blah”-It’s continually impressive how every word out of his mouth manages to be worse than the last, and increases the desire to reach through the screen and finish what All Might tried to do with his bare hands. You’ve think there’d be a bottom to the depths he could sink to, and he’s laughing in your face for believing that the darkness he embodies even has an end to it. 12) “yeah yeah fuck you as well, I knew you`d gonna say something despicable and even so I had hopes that there was going to be some new info. How silly was I, once again grasping at megalomaniac straws.”- Like a certain villain from a Bird-themed Disney show, AFO is really good at tricking you into believing there’s a nuance to his evil, that he has sympathetic views or intentions that he embraces the act of evil to achieve an overall benevolent goal for others… and then it turns out, nope, he’s just decided to stick to a certain viewpoint –that being evil is awesome- and will lie, cheat, manipulate, kill or corrupt anybody that disagrees with his views, looking down on them all the while for being ‘crazy’ enough to embrace the opposing views –that there is inherent goodness and morality in the world worth putting yourself on the line for- and firmly believing he’s in the ‘right’ despite everybody who meets him being able to tell that he’s both dangerously wrong and completely off his rocker, despite his vast intelligence. I like that this shot showcases his full face in an almost human look, because for once you can see that that used to be a human being underneath all the scarring, but at the same time that emphasises his absolute monstrous inhumanity laid bare to see – that there is something severely warped behind his eyes that has nothing to do with his backstory or personality, but instead is the product of a psyche that is distinctly ‘other’ from the rest of the world, despite being able to mimic the traits of humanity in those around them. AFO simply doesn’t bother putting on a pretence because of the type of character he’s chosen to embody heart and soul- or what passes for his soul anyway. 13) “I like to imagine that the last page was actually GT having a flashback of AfO going “tehehee I`m just a fucked up little dude doing fucked up little things, what`s wrong with that? (:” and then going back to Aizawa and saying “fuck if I know””- Well, he really doesn’t know. He can’t. Like AFO said to All Might, his motivations and reasons are so alien and incomprehensible to others because of their inherent morality and decency that nobody can understand the way he thinks even when he lays it all out in plain English. He can’t think like him, because he’s still got hold of his humanity 14) “Alright, time to give the people higher up the hierarchy the info. It isn`t much, but it greatly reduces the search. Before that, every single hole or ditch was a potential place for them to be hiding in, but now they know that it is specifically a hospital where the Nomus are coming from, that will be of great help.”-  Not just any hospital. The kind of cutting-edge tech needed to push the boundaries of science and morality to make these abominations, even in secret, can’t simply be entirely obscured by the paperwork. With enough digging, they should be able to identify any suspicious deliveries or mysterious trails of missing lab equipment mid-transit and start to identify a pattern that will lead them towards the doctor behind the curtain. 15) “And soon after, their agent is already knowing where he has to look. Now Hawks has a new objective: comb through every single hospital in the country where people died in to find out where the Nomus are coming from.”- Actually, since Hawks is still under strict camera surveillance 24/7, he can’t do the snooping. That’s more likely a coded messaged letting him know where the heroes are turning their attention to next, so he’s kept ‘in the loop’ for when they’re ready to spring a simultaneous pincer movement from without and within the PLF at once. 16) “Hawks: At last… All according to Keikaku

Twice: what was that?

Hawks: Oh, keikaku means “plan”

Twice: Ah, thanks chief”-

Twice: I keep getting that mixed up with Cake! You ever eat cloned cake? Not as appetising as you would believe. 17) “OH JESUS FUCK MAN

OH GOD THAT`S FUCKING TERRIFYING WHY IS HE DOIN G THAT JESUS

OH I DIDN`T NEED TO SEE THAT, ABSOLUTELY DIDN`T”-

I think it’s safe to say that at least one of the powers Tomura’s getting is Hyper Regeneration, because Jesus fuck is his body hanging together by a literal thread there! He’s falling to pieces and getting pulled back together and the most twisted thing is, his minds so warped by everything he’s gone through that he can’t help by laugh himself silly at the excruciating agony, his laugher replacing his tears and screams of pain, because they never did anything to help him in his childhood, so now he cannot do anything but laugh in the face of his torment, eagerly looking forward to returning it all back upon the world, so he’s holding himself together almost literally by force of will until that day comes. Boy’s willpower is what this treatment is hinging upon, and it’s more than sufficient to the task, which bodes ill for everybody…

19) “Goddamn this chapter fucked me up. I loved it. They showed that Cloudy McButtnaked, our beloved discount son goku, is still there in some way, and there might be a chance to bring him back eventually. maybe. They won`t be able to revert what has been done to his body, we`ve seen the same with the proto-nomus back on Vigilantes, but maybe like them, he can live a normal, happy life eventually.”- He might even learn to like his new warping powers for teaching kids. They are ultra-useful, despite how they came about, so being able to use them to help others would give Kumo some comfort from his past trauma.

@thelreads​

[heyitssmiller]

Bewitched, Body and Soul

So... this happened. Blame the Discord. Basically, the premise is receiving a note from a stranger about having similar tastes in books, and my first thought was Finn/Leo. And now, around 24 hours later, this showed up in my word document. Hope y’all like it!! And don’t worry, I’ve already got a sequel planned with Logan ;)

All characters, of course, belong to the wonderful @lumosinlove

And, if you’re so inclined, check out my Masterlist if you enjoy this story! <3

CW: food/drink

.

Leo loved this bookstore. There was a west-facing windowfront that allowed all sorts of afternoon light to shine through, creating a large, warm sunspot right in Leo’s favorite armchair. The shelves were always neatly organized by category, there was a featured book of the week, and there was a coffee shop sequestered to one corner of the building. What else did he need in life? He’d spent countless hours here, sitting with a new book and a cup of coffee or tea and getting lost in whatever world he’d been transported to within the crisp pages and black ink. Being new to the city, there were probably better ways to make friends, but there was something so soothing, so comfortingly familiar about shutting off the worry in his mind and just focusing on the story unfolding in his hands.

But when his stomach growled loudly in protest, he figured he needed to put reading on hold.

There was a wrinkled, jagged-edged scrap of paper sitting on top of Leo’s book when he returned to his table, café pastry in hand. It hadn’t been there a second ago. Curiously, Leo set his food down and inspected the foreign paper. Messy, inelegant scrawl slanted across the page in deep blue ink. The lines were uneven and chaotic; the i’s weren’t even dotted, almost as if it took too much effort to go back and add them in. Leo found it strangely endearing. It read:

           Hi!

           I don’t think we’ve met, but based on your choice of literature I think we would make great friends. :)

-        Carrot Top

Leo smiled, read it again, and looked around for the person who sent it but no one acknowledged him, seemingly lost in stories of their own. So he sat there, a smile still on his face as he got back to his book, using the note as a bookmark.

~~~

Finn couldn’t help himself when, a few days later, he left another note after seeing the guy with good taste in books again at the bookstore. He was at what must have been his usual table, seemingly right where Finn had left him. The only difference besides the clothes he was wearing was the book he was reading. Finn let himself linger on his profile, just for a second – the gentle slope of his nose, the way his curls rested against his forehead, how bright blue eyes scanned the pages below him.

Finn wasn’t one for love at first sight; that was for romance novels only. But instant attraction? Oh yeah. He was definitely there.

He picked up a small flyer from the front desk, flipped it over, and began to write.

And maybe it wasn’t a good way of, as the kids said these days, “shooting his shot”. But it was a start. And it was fun – the thrill of trying not to get caught, the anonymity. Sure, one day he’d maybe get up the courage to talk to him in person, but he was happy with this for now.

           Hmm… haven’t read that one. Might have to get myself a copy!

-        The Walking Freckle

After dropping the note off while the blond walked off to take a phone call, Finn tried to act casual as he stared sightlessly down at his own book instead of over at the cute stranger like he desperately wanted to.

Don’t be suspicious, don’t be suspicious…

If he was being completely honest, he didn’t really know where to go from here. Did the blond think the notes were creepy? Or weird? He never seemed to mind much, but… well, a stranger was repeatedly leaving notes for him. What if it was making him uncomfortable? Would it make things better or worse if Finn introduced himself?

A snort came out, unbidden. Yeah. Right. That would go well. Finn could practically see it now: he would be clumsy and awkward, probably spilling coffee all over the guy’s book or – even worse – all over him. He’d scare him off for sure.

But at the same time, Finn wanted nothing more than to meet him. To sit down across the table from him and debate the points of the book he was reading, or give book recommendations, or just talk. About literally anything. Finn wasn’t a picky guy. He could sit there and let him speak for hours, absorbing any and all knowledge about him like a sponge. Did the corners of those bright, blue eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiled? Did his cheeks get all flushed when he was passionate about something, just like Finn’s? What was the story behind the soft-looking tuft of gray hair at his temple?

Who was he?

Finn was overflowing with questions, and desperate for the answers.

But he needed to go about this the right way, didn’t he? The last thing he wanted to do was screw this up. So he closed his book, propped his chin in his hand so that he could stare out the window, and started to plan.

~~~

The next note threw Leo for a bit of a loop. He’d saved his table with his coat thrown over one of the chairs and went up to the New Books section, surreptitiously keeping an eye on his table and hoping that he’d catch his note-sender red-handed.

Leo could’ve sworn that he’d looked away for half a second, but – well, he got distracted by a book, so it easily could’ve been five minutes for all he knew. This note was written on one of the café napkins, the ink bleeding through in some spots and a few small tears in the delicate material.

Nice choice! That book absolutely shattered my heart and then pieced it back together. The way she writes love lost just hurts so beautifully, doesn’t it?

I like your sweater by the way.

Fuck I hope that’s not creepy.

I’m not a stalker, I promise. I just think you’re really cute. And you have amazing taste in books. I’d like to learn more, if you’d let me. :)

But first, you have to figure out who I am! Good luck!

-        Your Not-So-Secret Admirer in the Tortoiseshell Glasses

He smiled, wide and happy, and looked around for tortoiseshell glasses, red hair, and freckles. Those were the only three clues he had so far. So he quickly scanned the crowded café, looking for anyone who fit the description. The only one even close was a freckled, redheaded guy at the corner table, but no glasses.

That was a shame, too. He was stunning.

The mystery bibliophile must already be gone, then. Or hiding.

Looked like Leo had his work cut out for him. He did always like a challenge.

~~~

It probably wasn’t Finn’s best idea to take his glasses off. He couldn’t see a damn thing and was left squinting down at his book, trying to determine if what he was seeing was an F or a P.

That smile, though… he could’ve seen that dimpled smile from all the way across the street.

He never thought he’d be pining for a stranger like this, but then again – he wasn’t a complete stranger, was he? After all, you could learn a lot about a person by their book preferences. Finn wasn’t normally known for being a good judge of character – he was too optimistic, too unwilling to see the bad in people. But damn, did he hope he was right about this one.

~~~

Finn had probably been too bold with the note he’d just dropped off, but when he’d seen what book that his new maybe-friend was reading, he knew he couldn’t just pass up an opportunity like that.

He didn’t wait to see the reaction this time – he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He just left the short note on top of the book while the blond was at the café counter and booked it (pun definitely intended) out of there as fast as he could.

           You have bewitched me, body and soul. <3

-        Bambi

~~~

He should’ve waited. Leo’s reaction, all bashful smile and bright red face and pleased expression, would’ve been worth it.

~~~

Leo went back to the bookstore pretty much every day after that, intent on finding this person. Not only was this a fun little game they were playing, but it would be nice to finally have a friend in the city. He still didn’t know anyone besides his coworkers and… well, he was a little lonely. A friend would be nice, especially one who had a shared interest in books.

The only thing left to do was to find them.

Red hair, freckles, glasses, and big doe eyes.

Leo looked for the only four defining traits he had, methodically starting in the front of the store and weaving through isle after isle of bookshelves. When that proved unsuccessful he moved on to the café, gaze landing on the queue first before lurching to a stop at the glimpse of a shock of auburn hair in the far corner booth. Heart hammering in his chest, Leo used his height to his full advantage and peered over the line of people.

Freckles, Glasses, Big, doe eyes.

If he needed any more confirmation, the stranger – the very cute stranger – was reading the same book Leo had been reading a week ago. The one his anonymous friend said they hadn’t read yet.

It had to be him.

Leo didn’t let himself think about it too much – he knew he’d panic if he did. He just strode over and sat down across from him, setting his book down on the table with a quiet thud. The note-writer jumped a little, then lifted wide brown eyes to look up at him.

Oh, but he was gorgeous.

“So what part are you at?” Leo asked, eyes taking in everything they could now that he was close enough – that messy red hair that just barely curled at the ends, the hint of scruff on his jaw, brown eyes shifting from shade to shade in the afternoon light filtering through the window beside him. Soft, mesmerizing lips curved into the beginnings of a smile that Leo couldn’t help but be transfixed by. “Have you gotten to the part where Patroclus dies?”

Finn stared back, trying to look horrified but he knew he was smiling so much that they counteracted each other because, finally, he’d figured it out. “I can’t believe you’d break rule number one of having a reading buddy: don’t spoil the ending.”

Dimples.

“Oops.”

Finn was done for.

“I’m Finn,” he managed to stammer, aiming for his best smile and probably looking like he’d just tasted something awful instead.

“Leo,” his companion said with a warm smile. Then he frowned. “Wait, no. Go back. You can’t spoil the ending of a story that’s literally thousands of years old.” The blond leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee and watching in amusement as Finn gaped at him in horror. He could feel his cheeks and ears getting red, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“That’s so not the point!”

Leo laughed, then motioned for Finn to state his case. And then Finn was off, forgetting all about his nervousness and tendency to be awkward. He ranted about that topic for… well, he didn’t really know how long, but it was a while. Leo didn’t even bat an eye, keeping pace well and interjecting with his own points calmly and collectedly – the gentle breeze to Finn’s tornado. He was smiling, too, even though sometimes he tried to hide it behind the rim of his coffee cup. And he was smart, Finn learned as they jumped from one topic to the next and the minutes ticked by. He knew a lot about literature, like Finn, but he could also make these random connections to all kinds of different topics that Finn would’ve never thought of, all while keeping up with Finn’s fast-paced brain and tendency to jump down rabbit holes.

It was an instant connection, the likes of which Finn had never experienced before. It was intoxicating. Finn felt like he could never get enough.

During a lull in between one conversation and the next, Leo pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it over, looking suddenly and inexplicably shy. Finn cocked his head confusedly, then unfolded the paper and looked down.

           Would you like to go on a date sometime?

PS: I’m free tonight if you are. :)

-        The Guy Who’s Been Crushing on You for Weeks

Finn’s heart threatened to burst. “Absolutely.” He hesitated, just for a second, then decided to go for it. “Are you free now? I know a pretty great café nearby.” With a wiggle of his eyebrows, he jerked his thumb at the bookstore café and earned a laugh. He wondered what he could do to earn another.

“Sounds perfect.”

They walked over to the counter together, the backs of their hands just barely brushing – it was still enough to make Finn hyperaware of every miniscule movement and get his pulse hammering. Leo was teasing Finn for his terrible eyesight in a soft, southern drawl – something Finn definitely wasn’t expecting but sure as hell wasn’t complaining about, his fingers deliberately playing with Finn’s now, and Finn knew it was going to be a good night. It was already a good night; how could it possibly get any better?

“What can I get for you?”

Leo and Finn looked up at the barista and their eyes widened in tandem as they took in thick chestnut waves, long, dark lashes, and bottle-green eyes. He wasn’t smiling, not necessarily. His expression was fairly neutral, all things considered – except for those eyes. If you stared at then long enough, you could see just the faintest whisper of amusement.

They both looked down slightly, searching for a nametag. There, in bold black letters, read:

Logan.

[theyarebothgunshot]

jib 6 breakdown and analysis

standard disclaimer: i am not gonna be linking to every single thing i talk about, but i will try my best to link to the moments that stand out to me the most. i have read long posts about this panel before, so not everything in this post is gonna be original or said for the first time ever, simply because there is a good chance that information has stuck in my mind and has subconsciously formed my view of this panel. this is also in no way, shape or form gonna be coherent, unfortunately. i’m just gonna hope that the cockles hivemind will be able to make sense of this regardless. love and light. and lastly, this is all in good fun, so don’t come at me if you think this is too out there please and thank you.

if i would have to give this panel a signifier, i would say this is the panel of the inside jokes. it’s the panel that shows us how well they know each other, to the point that they finish each other’s sentences and start telling the same punchline to a joke at the same time. 

but besides all of that, it was also the panel of the shoulder touches, husband behavior, and rescuer misha. let’s dive into it.

-

i adore the fact that they are laughing and joking with each other from the first second they get on stage. the way that they tell that story about how they planned to have misha nap and have jensen drink whisky and humm, really reminds me of something that i mentioned a lot during my jib 7 analysis: they are very much in sync.

jensen slinging his arm around misha of course had to be compensated with a manly face and manly grip. the rituals… i know they are intricate.

it’s kind of cute how misha tried to both encourage jensen to try that step, and wanted to make sure he wouldn’t hurt himself lmao. dare i say husband behavior? (i do dare and i will do it again, bam bam!) 

something about the way they talk about j*red just makes me feel like they are such a team, if that makes sense? like, they both think the same things about j*red’s antics and talk in such a united way about it (“and jensen and i were like…” “i don’t even care. he [points at misha] doesn’t care.”) that it just sounds kind of coupley to me. *whispers* husband behavior.

i love that jensen’s first instinct after talking about missing j*red was to go over to misha, put his hand on his shoulder, and talk about his fucking flirting way of pranking misha versus j*red’s painful pranking of misha. “with you it’s like my friend and protector is....” i truly wish the audience wasn’t as loud as they were in that moment because i would love to fully hear that sentence. 

the look on jensen’s face when misha says “save it for when we take off our pants” is just priceless. ‘oh god here we go again, when will he ever learn’ but the funny thing is, he will make the same face later on in the panel, after talking about riding a dragon. that’s the face he makes when one of them goes slightly too far. just thought that was interesting.

what stands out to me the most is his reaction when misha turns around just as he is ‘fake unbuttoning’ his pants like: ‘i’m just kidding i’m innocent’ literally no reason to respond like that if misha is just his buddy.

misha’s “what are you doing?” as jensen is tying his flannel around his waist also stands out to me. he clearly does not like the look and can’t keep his mouth shut (“that was bothering me too”). why would you find the need to comment on your buddy’s fashion choice. (....husband behavior.)

just wanna take a moment to say that it’s very fucking funny that jensen said “don’t take selfies” when you know that just a few years later he would take the chest to chest selfie with misha. oh, jensen. 

we have all heard the “jensen pranks misha on set by flirting with him” story countless of times, but it’s still funny to me how flustered misha seems to get by the fact that jensen can get to him that easily. and jensen’s laugh here is so cute, he fully knows what he is doing. 

misha jokes that he spends more time sunning on rocks now as a merman than he used to, and jensen immediately starts to walk to the apple juice, something i have noticed that he does whenever he wants to avoid something (be it a question or a situation that’s happening on stage). it almost feels like he is stopping himself from making a comment or something. it’s interesting, because he just turns right back around and starts telling the grasshopper joke without getting anything to drink.

which leads to one of my favorite moments between them: misha, beaming, says that he has heard it before but he wants to hear it again, and mouths the words to the punchline along with jensen. he looks at the audience as if to say ‘good one, right?’ and when jensen goes “is this thing on?” misha immediately tries to distract him from his failed joke by using an inside joke (the first inside joke of the panel) with him. aka good husband behavior.

something tells me that “i’ll see you again, grasshopper” is another inside joke, so we’re counting it: number two. 

jensen. jensen pspsps come here. can you please explain to me why you are so horny for misha’s indianrussian accent? i cannot believe him (i can), trying to get him to use the accent to ‘help the girl in the audience’. 

so uhm. i think i just heard something while i was rewatching this panel that i never caught before. when misha reads what is on the box that was put on stage, he says: ‘please take this box and open later in private - daniella.’ and jensen goes: ‘yeah that’s from me’ with a flirty Look on his face like. hello??? why have i never seen anybody talk about this??? i’m??? internally screaming??? rest assured i had to take 5 when i saw this shit. 

can we take a second to appreciate the fact that jensen gave misha a once over when misha says the glitter is everywhere, and then jensen said “fairy herpes”. why did your mind go to a sexual reference jensen? why? (we know why).

“i hate when you get that look in your eyes. don’t! i’m sorry!” is one of the most coupley things to say, ever. just wanted to point that out. 

i love the playful vibe they have during this portion of the panel: jensen asking misha what he will do for the audience (thinly veiled excuse for wanting misha to do something that jensen will also enjoy), throwing the rings at misha, both of them “panicking” and lapping up the spilled apple juice.

look, i couldn’t not include the shirt lift. i had to. especially because of the way he looks at misha afterwards lmao and misha, darling misha, tries to defuse the situation by making a joke and it works because of course jensen does his signature unicorn laugh. sidenote: how cute is jackles when he grabs the guitar, begging people to erase the picture jsfhs. gotta love that man.

“you done messed up” inside joke number 3.

you know what is funny to me? the fact that jensen and misha often pretend not to know certain things about each other when they are on stage together. one example of this is during the underbear debacle, when jensen asks misha to proof he wears orange underwear and pretends he is shocked, even though the whole world knows that misha wears orange underwear. 

in this panel, it happens twice. the first time is here, when misha asks jensen ‘do you actually not smell?’ as if he isn’t one of the people in this world who would know that best. and then he, of course, immediately takes this opportunity to sniff jensen’s armpit. i mean. okay. which is extra funny because jackles doesn’t play along with the whole ‘i have no clue’ bit and just goes “yeah you’re not a stinker” without checking because, clearly, he already knows. 

i love jensen’s little smirk when he hears misha’s dragon would be pink + misha’s reaction to it.

before i read this post i always thought jensen meant that his own dragon would be salmon colored. but now i think that it’s not far fetched to believe jensen was actually thinking about the fact that he has stated he was wearing a salmon shirt. which means that, in this moment right here, he was implying that instead of pink, misha’s dragon (aka jensen) would be salmon. which makes his reaction (looking down, laughing but shaking his head as if he can’t believe himself) very understandable. remember what i said about that being the face he makes when one of them takes it too far? yeah.

but then, something happens that is quite remarkable to me. instead of backing down from what he said, he fully commits to it. he turns to misha, and goes “if i could ride a dragon”. listen to the way he puts extra weight behind “ride” and “dragon”. 

then he asks if he understands the question correctly and repeats “what would it look like?”, the girl in the audience says “yes, but also any special abilities…” but jensen just ignores that because obviously, in his head the dragon is misha and he is not gonna shake that thought process any time soon. so naturally, he goes “i think my dragon that i would want to…” but stops JUST before saying “ride”, the guy KNEW what he was sounding like. lmao jensen i gotta give it to you buddy, good effort. you did well. you came far. you even said “look, i’m just gonna go for it here” even though misha’s face speaks volumes. i love you for that. because everything that came out of your mouth right then sounded very not straight.

in fact, it’s only because of misha’s interference (a reoccurring thing during these panels) that he stops himself completely and goes to talk with misha. i really wonder what would have happened if misha didn’t stop him. i also REALLY wonder what misha and jensen discussed when they turned their backs to the audience. sigh. 

now we get to the juicy stuff. jensen’s little slip up here is really really strange, when you think about it. he says “i have kids” before quickly covering that up with “i have a kid now.” i’m not saying the ackles and the collins are one big happy family or anything like that, but i do think that they are close enough for him to slip up like this. maybe the kids hang out together a lot. maybe they have given each other enough support during those early days of raising kids that it sometimes feels like he had multiple kids at that point in time. idk. but in any case, i don’t think that’s a slip up you’d make unless there was some sort of truth in it. he also kind of stumbles over his words right after that. [before anybody runs to my inbox to tell me that j/2 tinhatters think this is about him and j*red raising their kids together: trust me, i know, but we’re not talking about that.]

misha’s cheeky “i thought you were talking about danneel” followed by the both of them simultaneously saying that jensen does not tell her what to do, made me grin like a fool. that is all. 

the way jensen says “misha, apparently you were looking pale and you need some sugar. there you go.” is so SOFT AND CUTE idek how to explain what i am feeling but it’s just. a lot. oh wait a minute, i do know what to call it: HUSBAND behavior.

“by the way we’re gonna pay so dearly when we get home” “yeah we are” lmao the jdmv vibes are strong in this one. 

look. i know it’s possible that misha woke up alone after that dream, thought to himself ‘i miss her’, went for breakfast, saw jensen, and told this story to him verbatim. but misha is literally telling the story from the pov of waking up from a dream and saying that out loud. it would make sense that he would explain that dream to the person who he woke up with, and that he would follow the dream explanation up with “i miss her”. plus jensen is REPEATING IT as if he was right there when misha said that. add to that the way jackles stumbles over his words here and gets flustered and sits down? and misha’s face? yeah. you done messed up jackles, part 2. 

jensen doesn’t know what to do with himself. just look at his face right after he sits down. and misha, once again, comes to the rescue, trying to continue the conversation about poop in order to distract both jensen and the audience. bless his soul. 

it leads to the second instance of misha pretending that he doesn’t know something about jensen, namely that jensen can’t stand poop even from his own daughter. misha goes: “no? not for you?” as if he didn’t already know that. 

round of applause for the jib team, for putting on ‘this thing called love’ to get jensen and misha to dance……. just saying.

jensen’s little nod to misha right here? husband telepathic communication at its finest. even their silly dad dances are in sync. 

jackles you are NOT being slick we can SEE you tossing the mic to your other hand so you can pull misha in by the waist (or honestly maybe his hand landed lower idk idk it’s possible).

it really is something special, though, what happened right here: jensen, macho masculine grumpy performative jensen, is smiling and laughing and enjoying dancing on stage, doing some ballet moves, all because of misha (and by some extent felicia). not just with felicia or by himself, but with rob, osric, etc. honestly it’s heartwarming to watch. it makes me smile so much. 

-

and that was jib 6. thanks for reading everybody <3 

[nightowlfandom]

Bully! Park Jimin- I’m Your Devil (DIRRRRTTYY)

So...I got a new computer and I have no clue how to screenshot on it as of now...and tbh I don’t feel like figuring out how. SO I’m gonna be experimenting with some layouts but until then you just have these annoying announcements.

Anyways, ANON ASKS  🧑🏿‍🎤  🧑🏿‍🎤  🧑🏿‍🎤 (you know who you are wink wink)

may I request a really aggressive schoolbully!jimin / sadistic!jimin smut inspired by the songs daddy issues, into it, and the hills :) 

Y’all some masochists but I ain’t mad.

Just know ya worth and if anyone treats you like this in real life, punch them in the balls. That being said, This is also LOOOONG. I didn’t plan for it to be but yeah. ALSO I GOT YOUR OTHER ASK SO I GOT CHU. I’m not sure if this is good but I hope I did you justice.

Reader who isn’t a virgin, really mean bully man, more foreplay than actual smut lol sorry, touch of diet-angst

Leggo.

...

“Okay class, what do you think the author was trying to say when she was describing her relationship with Damien?”

You sat at your desk, chin propped up in your hand as you gazed off longingly into space. This was one of the rare times you decided to pay attention because your class was reading your favorite book. “The Young Devil” (Completely made up lol). 

“She’s obviously a broken woman if she thinks Damien is ever gonna change his ways. She’s a stiff.” a comment made you practically fall forward. You turned your head to find the culprit of who said such a thing about your favorite character. “Anyways, she’s too safe. She couldn’t handle his issues.”

“Well maybe if Damien made an effort to open himself up, Belle wouldn’t have to pry so hard.” another girl rolled her eyes. “Men always think women can’t handle what they throw when in reality we take the heat for your dumb asses.”

“Interesting conversation. Y/N, what do you think?” the teacher took note that you were paying more attention and turned her sights on you. “What do you think about the dynamic between Damien and Belle?”

You cursed yourself for looking too interested. You hated speaking. “I...Um.” you opened your mouth and closed it again, unsure of what to say. “I think Damien’s refusal to allow Belle to see the other side of him not only puts their mental connection at risk, but physical as well.” you replied. 

“What do you mean physical?” she egged you on to elaborate. “As in sex?”

“W-well, yes and no.” you shrugged. “Belle prides herself on building connection through touch. She can’t have sex with Damien because she doesn’t feel loved by him. To him sex is just a thing you do. He gets his pleasure from bullying her, that’s his high.” you explained. “She claims she doesn’t care but if she didn’t, she wouldn’t spend her time wishing he was different...or something.” you played with your hands, staring down at your fingers.

The teacher stared at you before a smile broke out on her face. “Excellent analysis, Y/N!” she clapped her hands together. You returned the smile with the tiny bit of confidence that built up inside you. “Yes, Jimin did you have something you wanted to add?”

You turned your head to find the always mouthy Park Jimin lazily raising his hand. “She likes being bullied by him.” he said as if it was a matter of fact. 

“Excuse you?” you couldn’t help but speak out. Suddenly the entire class was quiet. They had never heard you speak so abruptly before. “What the hell do you mean she likes it.”

“She wouldn’t put up with it if she didn’t like it.” he raised an eyebrow. “She could just tell him to leave her alone, get lost or something.”

“How in the hell would Belle enjoy someone like Damien embarrassing her every minute he gets. Are we reading the same book?” you sat up straight crossing your arms. 

“Now this is getting interesting.” the teacher mumbled.

“You can tell by her actions. The rush of her blood when she blushes, the way she stammers over her words, the way she listens to his every word...much like you are right now, princess.” he winked. His smug grin alone made your blood boil.

“Oh and I suppose his possessive ways are warranted in your eyes too aren’t they.” you scoffed.

“Maybe, I mean she even says herself she feels cared about.” he shrugged.

“Because Damien is a manipulative dickhead!” you snapped. “He obviously wants her around because she’s the only girl who gives a shit about his life and he’d feel lost without her.” you snarled. “Then again I would expect this point of view from a man who changes bitches like he changes his underwear.” (A/N we don’t hate women here).

“Language Miss. L/N.” the teacher spoke. You rolled your eyes, glaring at Jimin one last time before facing forward. The whole class was silent.

“Nice one Y/N” a girl on your opposite side nudges you.

“Not bad for a quiet girl.” a boy piped up.

...

As classes were let out for the day you wordlessly avoided the looks you got from your other classmates. You walked down the halls, holding your books tightly to your chest. 

“Oi, Hey L/N!” 

You weren’t sure if the sound of Jimin’s voice made you wanna speed up or slow down. It didn’t matter because he went as far as to run and stop right in front of you. 

“Um..What?” you looked up at him.

“Oh, not excited to see me?” he scoffed with a sadistic smile. You didn’t know what he was planning but you didn’t like it. “Way to try and debate me in class today, who knew you had a mouth on you.”

“I was just answering the teachers question..I don’t want any trouble..” you clutched your books even tighter. Before he could reply a girl ran up, practically attaching herself to him. 

“JIMMY YOU HAVE DANCE PRACTICE!” she practically screeched. “Why are you talking to her?”

“Oh...Y/N here was-” he paused. “Just confessing her undying love for me!”

“What! No I wasn’t!” you tried to deny, but it was too late. Everyone who was around heard him. “I don’t have a crush on you!” You felt your face heart up.

“Oh Y/N, You don’t have to hide it! Why else would you speak to me passionately in class today.” his sick grin never left his face. You could tell this was his revenge for embarrassing him in class. “You were telling me all about how you couldn’t sleep another night without telling me. How you want me in more ways than one.”

He spoke loud enough so others could hear.

“That’s not true!” you snapped. You were trembling. Humiliation filled your body and was overflowing, much like the tears of embarrassment you couldn’t fight anymore. “I’m not in love with you.”

“Oh Y/N, you don’t have to hide it anymore. I know everything. The love letters, the staring-”

“What?!”

But it was too late, people were already giggling and staring at you with pity. You took one last look at Jimin, who was already walking away, gleefully accepting the high fives from the pigs who dared to say ‘Nice score.’

“Are you alright, Y/N?’ a girl came up to you, putting her hand on your shoulder. “Should we go to the headmaster?” 

You didn’t answer, you just ran. You ran out the school, unknowingly into the pouring rain. It seemed the sky matched your mood today. You let out all the tears, not caring who saw or who looked at you as if you had lost your mind. Your house was far, but you didn’t care about that either. In that moment you felt as helpless as the character you loved dearly, Belle. 

...

You ignored everyone the next day, even your small group of lunch buddies. You worked alone, you sat alone at lunch, and by the time free period had rolled around, you had opted to hide. However, just as you prepared yourself to leave, who else but Jimin to stopped you in the middle of the halls. 

“Well if it isn’t my little admirer!” Jimin spoke loud enough to capture the attention of those around you. He ‘accidentally’ slapped your books out of your hands. “Oh, I’m sorry Y/N...Go ahead, pick those up.”

Without another word you knelt down, only to have him kick one of your books to the side. “What’s this! A diary!” 

A brown and black leather bound hardcover book sat at his feet. You instantly scrambled to get it, but he had managed to get his hands on it. “Isn’t this interesting!” 

“Jimin please don’t-!” you stood up, forgetting about your textbooks.

“Dear friend,-” he cleared his throat dramatically as he flipped through the pages of your diary.

Dear journal,

My life is nothing like stories I read about all the time. Each and every night I’d wish for my handsome devil to come. Come and take me away from here, away from the hate, away from the commotion, away from Park fucking Jimin. I don’t know what I’ve done to make him hate me the way he does. I just wish he’d be nice to me...just once. But that is one wish I know won’t come true. He’s just a sadistic asshole who bullies me because he knows I won’t say a word.

So why do i-

You snatched the book out of his hands before he could read any more, this time you were seething with rage. “If you EVER touch my property again I will- I’ll-”

“You’ll do what princess?” he smiled cheekily. “You won’t do a thing to me and we both know it...you’re just like that Belle chick. That handsome devil of yours is just a fever dream, get over it-.”

“Maybe, but I’d rather live in a dream than talk to Satan himself.” you snapped. “You’re just the devil.” you whimpered. “Why do I even put up with you?” you sighed. Jimin suddenly stepped forward. You mentally prepared yourself for the worst.

You felt his lips touch the side of your mouth, had you moved just a bit more, he would have been on your lips. “Because you love me.”

....

“For this project, I will be assigning you partners

Oh shit...please no. God, no. Dear lord if anyone can hear-

“Alex and Jackson. Lisa and Mark, Y/N and Jimin-”

“Fuck.” you mouthed. You dared looked next to you. Jimin was playfully leaning his cheek against the palm of his hand. He winked at you, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“You will be doing book reports on The Young Devil. You choose the topic, this is due in two weeks. I recommend you get together outside of school.”

As class let out, Jimin followed you. “Sooo, partner! When am I coming over?”

“When pigs fly.” you answered sourly.

“Saturday at 7:00 you said? I’ll be there!” he threw an arm around your waist. “See you there, babe.”

“You don’t even know my address!” you called after him as he walked off. That probably wasn’t the best idea because everyone was staring at you again. “NO! BECAUSE WE HAVE A PROJECT....Nevermind.” you groaned. 

... (Saturday 7:30 PM)

“You’re late.” you seethed as you pulled open the door. Jimin sauntered in and you slammed the door.

Soon it was silent between you two. Before he could open his mouth, you left him standing there to bolt up the stairs. Jimin, being himself followed you. To be honest, you were already starting without him.

“Do you live alone?” he asked, noticing how empty your home was.

“I do.” you replied curtly. “My parents travel around a lot, so I never see them.” you shrugged. “They help me out though.”

“So mommy and daddy take care of everything-”

“You don’t know me.” you cut him off. You sat down at your desk and pulled up your notes, proceeding to work. “They help me because they care...unlike some people.” you scoffed.  “Shut up so I can concentrate.”

“I thought this was a partner thing.” you heard your bed creak. “I think we should put out minds...maybe bodies together and think of a concept.”

“I already have one.” you cut him off.

“Enlighten me.”

“If Damien hadn’t changed by the end of the book, would Belle still be with him.” you mused aloud.

“Probably.”

“....” you didn’t reply, because you didn’t want to admit he was right. Probably the only time you’d ever agree with him on anything. 

“What? Still mad at me for reading your little diary?” he asked. Once again, you ignored him. Suddenly, your chair was turned around abruptly and you were now staring at a red faced Jimin. “I don’t like being ignored, doll.”

He was so close, your noses were practically touching. You froze up, afraid to move. 

“Why are you so mean?” you found yourself asking. “What did I ever do to you?”

“Other than refuse to drop that good girl act of yours? We’re a dysfunctional two peas in a pod. I’m an asshole and you’re too much of a stiff to stop me.”

“Act?” you looked confused. “I don’t have an act.” you attempted to defend yourself. 

“Hm...that face you make is kind of hot.” he smirked. He slid his fingertips under your chin. Your vision went blurry, unable to process everything. You absent-mindedly began playing with the hem of your sweater.

(SMUT AHEAD, PROCEED WITH CAUTION)

“What is your deal!?” you found yourself getting angry as you stood up. Jimin stepped back looking startled. “You’re messing with my fucking head and I’ve had enough! Jimin what did I ever do to you?” you felt it again. Humiliation. “I’m not asking you to be my friend but the least you could do is be nice to me!”

“I don’t do nice, sweetheart. Like you said, I’m the devil.” he walked up to you. “Your blush is like a drug to me.” he laughed. “It’s cute.” he rested his hands on either side of your face. “Fuck, I kinda wanna kiss you right now. Do you wanna kiss me?”

YES!

“Yes, I mean no! I mean yes- I mean maybe, I mean fuck!”

Not even a second later, Jimin’s lips were over yours. Despite his bullying, his kiss was gentle. You practically melted. He protectively wrapped an arm around your waist. Your thoughts on the project were long gone. Jimin couldn’t figure out why he felt so protective of you all of a sudden, but thoughts ran through his head. Thoughts that if anyone else kissed you, touched, you even looked your way...he’d go ballistic.

And fuck, you were a great kisser. He held the back of your head with his free hand, guiding you into his touch, which you followed perfectly. His tongue slid through the gap in your mouth, yearning to taste you more. You felt lightheaded as if your heart was about to give out. He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours.

“Maybe I’m so cruel because I don’t know how to act around you.” he whispered. “Maybe I’m trying to be the devil you want so bad.” you could see a flash of sadness in his eyes, which was quickly replaced with lust. “I wanna be your devil, Y/N...”

He kissed you again, this time his warm hands slithered under your clothes. You were by no means a virgin, but the way you felt made you feel shy and exposed. Jimin walked you back towards your bed and practically threw you on the plush surface while he rid himself of his shirt. Your bodies practically melted together, bodies meeting in a sweaty mass of limbs that explored one another. 

Be fumbled with your pants, almost tearing them off you. He gave you a sadistic smile before ghosting his lips over both your thighs. Your legs shook, trying to keep them steady. 

“Have you ever...done anything with anyone?” he asked.

“Once, but nothing special.” you admitted. “It was straight to the point.” you shrugged.

“Then I guess I have nothing to compete against.” he bit his lips. “You smell so good here.” he shuddered. “I wanna-”

He yanked down your panties next. His lips ghosted over your slit, pressing feather light kisses against you. 

You held your breath, unable to register what was going on. His fingers met your clit, sliding his fingers through your slickness. Before you could say another word, Jimin licked a stripe up your slit. You bucked your hips, only to be held down. He sucked harshly at your clit before playing with your little bud with his tongue. 

“F-fuh-” you couldn’t even muster up the words as Jimin played with you. 

“Fuck Y/N.” he groaned. You felt his fingers slid inside of you, coating his fingers in your water. “I don’t know what’s hotter, the look on your face or the way your-”

“D-don’t say it!” you cut him off. “I’m warning you!”

“What?” you could just see she shit-eating grin on his face. “You mean pussy? The way this pussy takes my fingers so well?” (Now from the top, make it drop- I’ll shut up)

He abruptly removed his fingers which made your back arch and lurch upwards. You sat up on his elbows only to witness Jimin rid himself on his pants and boxers. Your eyes widened when you saw his hardness. You couldn’t look away. 

“See something you like?” his voice made you snap out of it. He bit his lip with a grin. He grabbed your legs and aligned himself with you, teasing the hell out of your entrance, just barely touching you with his length. “Am I your devil, Y/N?”

“God, yes.” you couldn’t fight it anymore. 

Slowly, he slid in, groaning at the feel of you around his dick. “Shit Y/N...How the hell am I gonna move when you’re so t-tight. I won’t last 10 seconds.” he whimpered. He slowly thrust again, your juices creating a deep echo in the room. “Hah...Ungh...f-fu” he planted his hands on the bed, one either side of your head. “Y/N...You don’t know what you do to me.”

“J-jimin.” you mirrored his voice, wrapping your arms around his neck. “P-please?”

That was all the motivation he needed to start moving. 

Your moans and yells echoes through the room, the clapping sound of flesh hitting flesh bounced off the walls. Sweat kept your bodies practically glues together. His fingers moved everywhere. Grabbing your sweater that for some reason was still on, grabbing your legs to pull you back into him. Your face to move your hair out of the way so he could witness the euphoria written shamelessly on your face. His jaw went slack and he felt himself getting to that part, and he could tell you were close too.

You were first, practically convulsing under him, screams of his name escaping your lungs.

“ARGH, FUCK!” He followed suit and immediately removed himself from you, only to spray himself...all over your sweater and legs. He felt forward, practically shaking against you. He messily kissed you, not bothering to think about neatness as his tongue invaded your mouth for the umpteenth time.

“Mind if I crash here tonight?” he laughed as he plopped next to you. 

“Sure.” you breathlessly replied. “Project can wait till tomorrow.”

As you drifted off to sleep, Jimin shimmied out of bed and walked over to the open window. He felt the breeze on his skin and closed his eyes. “Please.” He whispered. “I want to treat her well...don’t let me fuck it up.” He silently wished before joining you in bed again, protectively wrapping his arms around you. “I’ll do anything for you, Y/N...I’m your devil....”

...

Cheesy ending I know but what did ya think?! 

[yuzukult]

i’m bad too 06 (m) || kdy & reader

title: i’m bad too - drabble series pairing: kim doyoung x reader genre: angst, fluff, smut, goodboy!doyoung, nerdy!dy (basically he’s a dork) & badgirl!reader, hitman!au, oc-isn’t-a-hitman-but-she-could-be!au, there’s just a lot of unspoken things happening here lol word count: 1.7k warnings: blowjob/handjob (lucky doyoung), sexual usage of ‘oppa’ lol don’t judge a/n: still tryna learn the correct jargon for warnings but this is a drabble so.... very minimal stuff here lmfao

please let me know if anyone wants to be tagged! taglist: @wownajaemin​​​ @crescent-iak​​​ @ncttboo​​​​ @byunbaekby​ ​​← previous chapter || next chapter →

Doyoung makes you watch an obscene amount of superhero movies. For clarification: Marvel-Cinematic-Universe-kind-of-movies. However, you barely complain. If it means more time with him, you’d even watch Sesame Street just to be in his arms. 

He doesn’t like to watch those movies where there’s a way deeper message hidden behind the plot. He lives for the action, sprinkle of comedy, and occasional love interest. But not a ton. Too much romance might set unrealistic expectations, according to him. 

Albeit you sort of think he still has a vastly different depiction of love in comparison to you.

For one, in this alternate universe where there’s villains and superheroes, you, without a doubt, are a villain. You’ve tried explaining to him that you fit the stereotype—the whole leather attire plus motorcycle really takes the cake, but he doesn’t even know what you’re up to half the time. In fact, almost every single event you’ve performed a task, you’d show up at his front doorstep, hands remaining dirty from a mission for the Boss, and he’d welcome you with open arms with no idea. 

Doyoung doesn’t even have an ounce of a clue what you do.

He’s such a nice guy. Girls practically eat that shit up when they meet him, often overlooking the fact that he holds so many great boyfriend qualities. When you’re sore from “work,” (he questions what you do all the time but you just shrug nonchalantly) he’d always slip off your socks, massage the soles of your feet and finish off the rest of your body with no resistance. He doesn’t expect anything in return—not even sex. Doyoung just gives and gives, nearly never taking.

On one side, you’re glad that most women don’t recognize how perfect of a significant other he is. It gives you time to figure yourself out; how do you become good enough for Kim Doyoung? You’ve already dropped smoking. You’ve been putting more effort in your studies, granted he is your tutor. And you’ve spent the majority of your free time with him. If you ever needed to review material, you’d do it with him, just to show how much you’re trying. 

Even if there isn’t a label for the two of you.

You’re friends—but you’re definitely more than just friends. You fuck, but you’re not just fuck buddies either. You’re exclusive but you’re not straightforwardly dating. Doyoung doesn’t hide the fact that he wants you to officially be his girlfriend, although he never forces the idea upon you. He’s content with the circumstances he’s under even though he hopes to have you be his and his only. Nonetheless, it’s under your terms and he never forgets to remind you that. 

Honestly, you thought that you might be okay with this. That is, until a pretty gal with shiny black hair, toned body, and gentle voice named Joy came into the picture.

Joy is a given nickname. Her actual birth name is Park Sooyoung, a name as beautiful as the beholder, but people had gotten into the habit of calling her Joy, since… well, she’s such a joy to be around. She’s part of the school’s cheerleading squad, called the ‘Red Velvet Queens,’ plus extremely involved with other extracurriculars, including the competitive tennis team that Doyoung is on. There’s a lot of bitches on the squad, especially with the encounters you’ve had with them, but Joy isn’t one of them. She’s an angel. She’s the woman version of Doyoung. 

Doyoung likes to wait outside in the parking lot, right in the unspoken designated spot where you leave your bike. You’ve offered him a ride to school since he often stands idly, except he politely declines, and you speculate that it’s from fear. He remains cute in your eyes despite being a bit of a wuss.

Today, however, he’s not alone. It’s a daily routine that the view of Doyoung leaves you breathless, heart pumping like you’ve gone running, but today is different. Your blood is boiling, smoke whistling out your ears like a kettle on a stove from the heat that lingers around your neck region. Joy stands beside him, the widest grin smacked across her cheeks, lips stained as red as her cheerleading uniform. You wobble on your bike into the parking spot, shutting off the engine before kicking out the stand, pulling the helmet off your head while obnoxiously chewing on a piece of gum in your mouth. 

Joy’s gaze meets yours.

She’s sweet, and none of this is her fault. But you kind of hate her presence right now, just because she’s got all of Doyoung’s attention. 

Spitting out the gum on the asphalt, you shuffle through your pockets for a toothpick. This stupid toothpick that you’re stuck with because you quit smoking cigarettes for that charming boy. Popping the wooden stick in your mouth, you rake your fingers through your greasy hair, slinging the backpack over your shoulders before walking past Doyoung. 

“Sorry, Joy, I’ll catch up with you later,” You hear faintly before his heavy footsteps are rushed, catching up with yours. “Hey-Hey! Where are you going? We’re supposed to meet here. Why didn’t you wait for me?”

You shrug. He’s not happy with that response.

Hand grasping on your shoulder, he halts you in your steps to turn you to face him. As much as you hate to admit it, but you feel this green-eyed monster gnawing on your insides and you’re not a fan of it. “What’s wrong? What did I do? Talk to me.”

“Nothing. I’m busy. You still wanna tutor me later or are you busy making plans with Joy?” You snarl, munching on the pick. Doyoung’s eyes lighten up; he knows the problem now. “Are you jealous?”

“That word isn’t in my dictionary.” It’s a blunt reply, and your unfazed stare is there to support it. “Why would I be jealous of a nice girl like Joy who wants to get with a good boy like you?”

Doyoung likes you, no matter how hard you try to push him away. Your dilemma before was that you always thought a guy like him, so generous, so kind, could never love someone with a charred heart like yours. And yet, here you are, evidently jealous of a girl practically his equal when he’s done nothing but proven to you that you’re the only one he sees.

You want more, and the longer you continue to deny and swallow these feelings, you’re even more desperate to be held by him. In the midst of a tutoring session, you’ve managed to unbutton his cute sky blue dress shirt, unzip his trousers and suddenly his dick is in your mouth.

“We’re supposed to review l-limits,” He stutters over a moan, fingers reaching to comb back your hair. “S-So I told her I couldn’t hang out with her today.”

“Mm,” You hum against the tip, tongue gliding down his shaft. “I heard you the first time.” His thighs tighten when your mouth envelopes down his dick to the base with his head thrown back in the chair of your bedroom. He’s glad that he noticed you take initiative to lock the door today since you often don’t, and the possibility of one of the staff members entering in while sucking on him is kinky but he’s still scared of your brother. 

Doyoung lets out a soft gasp when your tongue swipes over his slit where a pearly bead of precum sits. “S-Shouldn’t we— oh fuck—be reviewing materi—ohh?” He sighs; your hands are everywhere; it’s hard for him to focus on anything when you’re gazing up at him through your pretty long lashes with tinged pink cheeks from his cock hitting the back of your throat. He melts under your touch when you graze over his thighs, claiming the territory that he’s succumbed to you willingly. You kiss the head of his cock and he bucks into it. “We’re reviewing a different kind of material. Have you ever been sucked off by a girl before?”

He shakes his head ‘no’, looking down at you with hooded eyes. With his arousal still in your grip, it twitches, yearning for your attention. You hate to admit it, but you’ve obviously tainted his ‘good boy’ persona with him in your bedroom like this, but Doyoung doesn’t think that. Disheveled hair, mouth gaped open, and sweaty forehead is a view of him you engrain in your memory. 

Doyoung is a good boy, but he has a body of a bad boy. There’s no way that tennis is the reason behind those washboard abs, toned thighs, and built arms. He’s not as muscular in comparison to Johnny, nor his friend Lucas, but Doyoung is gorgeous like this, perfect in your eyes. 

That’s why when you moan around his girth and he sputters, you think he’s got a halo over his head. He’s so pretty, so gorgeous, and you want to see him in all types of forms. Your hand wraps at the base of his dick, mouth wrapping around the red and angry tip, it’s glistening with your saliva as you start pumping him at a pace that leaves his jaw slack, groans bouncing off your bedroom walls. 

“Baby,” He calls out the term of endearment raspily, heart racing and abs tightening. A familiar feeling stirs in his stomach, and he knows he’s about to combust. “I’m about to cum, I need a tissue, I—”

“Cum in my mouth, oppa,” You whisper, quickening your movements but calling him “oppa” is what snaps within him, ropes of cum shooting down your throat along with a string of curses and a breathy moan escapes from his lovely lips. 

“So,” Doyoung begins, fiddling with his fingers anxiously across the lunch table from you. “You called me ‘oppa’ the other day. That was uh… new. You’ve never called me that before.”

Tying your hair up in a bun with a bobby pin between your teeth, his cheeks flush pink at the thought of you giving him a blowjob in your bedroom the other day, his fingers streaking through those luscious locks, and him cuming in your mouth. Popping out the pin, you slide in to push back a short piece of hair. “Yeah, well, there was a reason for it. You know why.”

Doyoung blinks blankly, utterly confused. “I… don’t. W-Why’d you call me oppa?”

“So you wouldn’t get nervous and just let me swallow.”

[feelingisshit]

Don’t Know Me - Stan Uris x Reader

Warnings - swearing, sexual mentions, victor and belch, this is my first time writing for IT

Stan and I had never really got along, it wasn’t like we always hated each other but we really never clicked as I did with the rest of the losers. We just never really had anything in common except our friends which obviously wasn’t enough because those friends started to become what was pushing us even farther apart. A snide remark from Richie here and there and then the rest of the group opting to believe Stan more often than not put more tension on our relationship and soon enough both of us did hate each other. 

“God, why do you have to correct everything I say? You’re such a fucking know-it-all Stanley!” Stan scoffed and rolled his eyes so aggressively that I thought maybe they’d fall out of his damn head. “All you do is try to take control of everything I do or say! And you know what else Stan?” I ask, moving towards him and poking a finger into his chest. “What? What nonsense do you have to say this time (y/n)? Really I’d love to know!” this makes me fume and if we were in a cartoon you’d most likely see smoke shoot out of my ears. “That! That’s what else Stan! You act like I’m so ignorant when really I get the same grades if not better than you do. Just because I don’t like to use my free time to study new things like you and Ben do doesn’t mean I’m an idiot!” I stomp and all the losers shrink back away from us.

I look over at them and my eyes immediately when I see that Eddie and Ben are visibly worried. I turn back to Stan who’s looking down on me with an expression I can’t quite read. I sigh heavily before grabbing my bag off the dirt-covered planks of the clubhouse and heading to the ladder up. “W-Where are you y-y-you go-going (y/n)?” Bill stutters out and I shoot Stan a glare before looking back at Bill. “I need a breather so I’m going back into town, probably home. If you guys want to hang out again later that’s fine by me.” I say before taking the ladder back up to the surface and walking back towards town to get ice cream.

“Why? Why the fuck does he hate me so much?” I cried, leaning over my ice cream. God Stan pisses me off to no end but at least I’m really the only one who he treats this way. At least he’s nice to the rest of the losers. “He’d be so pretty if he wasn’t scowling all the time…” I say to myself before finishing my ice cream. As I finish my cone and start to get up I get pushed back down onto the curb. I look up and see the two remaining boys of Bowers’ gang above me with hesitant smiles and shifting eyes. They look down on me with much more venom than I’ve ever seen in Stan’s eyes when he looks at me. “What are you doing all alone on the pavement? Your group of fuck buddies tired of you already? Ya get too used for their liking?” Victor spat at me and I let out a laugh without thinking. He grabbed me by my top and pulled me closer to him, so close that I could smell the liquor he had been drinking. The scent hit my nose so hard that I didn’t get to hear what he had said before he slapped me, threw me to the pavement, kicked me in the side a few times, then ran for the hills with Belch following closely behind.

“Are you alright (y/n)?” I didn’t get to register who had said that to me before I started crying again. Whoever had come to check on me just sat beside me quietly listening and rubbing a hand over my back to help soothe me. While I cried I let everything go to this stranger, I told them about practically everything that had been bothering me. Like part of the traumatic events of earlier that summer and how much Stan being a major dickhead was affecting me. All they did was rub their hand up and down my back and before I had realized it, the sun was already almost set and I would need to be home soon for dinner.  I quickly got up, wiped my eyes, gathered my belongings, and shouted a quick thanks before running off in the direction of my home without thinking to take a quick look back.

The next few times the losers club hung out Stan was fairly silent, opting to read a book instead of listening to mostly just Eddie and Richie bickering. The fourth hangout all Stan could seem to do was stare at me over the edge of his big book of birds. Yet, every time I locked eyes with him he looked away quickly, acting as if he hadn’t just been peering at me for at least fifteen minutes straight. That was about all I could stand to let him stare me down while I was trying to have a conversation with Ben and Beverly. “Why is he staring at you like that? Did something happen after you went to take a breather?” Bev questioned and Ben shuddered from the memory of how angry I had gotten. “I have no fucking clue to be completely honest with you. I really wish I did know what was going on in that pretty head of his…” I said without really thinking too much and both Ben and Bev did a double-take after I had said it. I regretted my words as soon as they had absentmindedly come out of my mouth and I laid my head in my hands, thankful that Stan was sitting on the other side of the clubhouse from us.  

“(y/n)? What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.” Bev teased and Ben pushed her a bit but all she did was laugh and then lean onto Ben’s shoulder to listen to what I’ll have to say. “Seriously tho, Bev’s teasing aside, I never thought I’d hear you say something like that about one of us and especially not Stan.” I groan and lift my head to look around. Everyone was still caught up in their conversations to pay us any mind. The only person who even thought to give us attention was still just Stan. When I caught his eyes with mine he didn’t look away immediately like he had before, like he somehow knew we were talking about him. I wave my hand awkwardly and he simply nods back at me and then looks back down to keep reading his big bird book.

I leaned forward towards the two so that hopefully only they could hear me. “Yeah…” I sighed and shook my head “I think Stan is cute but that doesn’t change the fact that we still basically hate each other.” Ben nodded thoughtfully with a hand to his chin. Bev butts in, “I don’t know, I think something has changed. He’s never kept his distance like this.” She stated plainly, leaning back against the wooden post with her hands laced behind her head. “He usually just sits with everyone and then argues with you if you bring something up. Are you sure nothing happened between you two after you had left?” She asks closing her eyes to rest them, a soft smile resting on her lips.

“I mean yeah i’m sure, unless you guys sent him after me. Someone, I didn't get to see who, checked up on me after I got pushed around a bit by Victor and Belch outside the ice cream shop.” She coughed and sat straight up looking at me with wide eyes, trying to catch her breath. “Victor and Belch got to you and you didn’t think to mention it to any of us?!” Bev shouted which quickly gained the rest of the boys’ attention. The only eyes that didn't look up at Bev were Stan’s. In fact, he actually shrank even further into his book if that were even possible. I tried to wave everyone’s attention off but none of them even started to look away until I had proved that I was fine other than a few bruises. After they had all finally gone back to their prior conversations I told Ben and Bev what I had ended up saying to whoever was kind enough to comfort one of the loser kids. Ben and Bev exchanged looks but neither of them seemed to want to make an effort to express what they were thinking.

The next time we all got together again was at Bill’s place for a sleepover. And by then whatever remorse Stan had for me had passed because he was back to being obnoxious as usual, correcting my grammar, and whatever else he thought I was wrong about. “Ya know what Stan?” I finally spit out after he had corrected my grammar for maybe the twelfth time already that night. Everyone looked nervously between the two of us, scared that a screaming match would start soon. Stan cocked an eyebrow at me and my eye twitched before I started to answer, “Stan, I have no idea why you had mercy on me for a few days and I have absolutely no clue what crawled up your fucking ass and died that put you in a shit mood but I really don’t want to be in a bad mood tonight. Do you think you could at least be a little nicer to me for your friends so you don’t fuck up their time?” I was exhausted already and we had only been at Bill’s for maybe an hour. “Honestly I might just head to bed now so Stan plays nice since he only ever seems to really be upset with me. Or maybe I’ll just head home even so I’m not even in the same house to be upset with. Oh, and Stan?” He tilted his head questioningly. “Maybe get to know a girl a bit more before you hate her cause honestly you don’t even really know me.” I breathed and gathered my belongings. I tried to leave too but Bill was one step ahead of me.

“P-please do-don’t leave (y/n). You can go l-lay down in-in my room if y-you need a bre-breather.” I nod and smile softly, “Thanks Billy.” I say before setting my bag back down on the floor by the couch and heading up to Bill’s room for a break from the chaos. After a few minutes of getting to lay in silence and stare at the ceiling a knock sounded at Bill’s bedroom door. “Come in,” I say, half expecting Ben, Bev, or Eddie to be the one at the door but when I look over at the door after it had opened I see Stan standing there awkwardly in the frame of the door. “I said you could come in Stan, I don’t know why you’re up here but believe me you’re welcome to come in none the less.” I say looking back up at the ceiling. I hear the floorboards creak and feel the bed dip beside me. I hear Stan mumble something and I sigh and sit up on the bed. “I couldn’t hear what you said, you’re mumbling.” I state, looking straight at Stan whose face is red and his golden brown eyes are shifting quite a lot. “I’m sorry, okay!” he suddenly shouted and it startled me since he doesn’t usually get very loud.

“What?” I say more out of confusion than anything else and Stan stands and starts to head towards the door. I jump up and grab at his wrist to stop him. “I didn’t come in here to fight you, I’m sorry. I’ll try to leave you be from now on. That’s all I came to say.” he rubs the back of his neck with his free hand nervously. “You sure? It sorta seems like there’s more you want to say.” I ask and he sighs, “I was the person who was with you after Victor and Belch got to you  and I didn’t realize how much what i said actually affected you. So, I’m sorry for everything I’ve said to or about you.” He apologizes with a red face and I chuckle lightly. “I’m sorry too Stan, I haven’t been all that honest with you either.” He tilts his head in confusion and I shake my head and continue, “I don’t hate you Stan, I honestly wish I did after everything you’ve done and said to me to piss me off over the years. Really I,” I pause, taking a deep breath before I admit this to him. 

“I  honestly think you’re pretty cute, handsome, pretty, whatever word you’d prefer.” I manage to spit out with a heated face and this time not from anger but from slight embarrassment of admitting something I’ve only told Bev and Ben. He just stands there staring at me in awe or shock, I couldn’t quite tell which. I place a hand on his shoulder and pull him down to my level. I place a soft kiss on his cheek before starting to head back to the group sitting in Bill’s living room. “I guess you do know me huh Stan Uris?” I whisper to myself before walking into the living room and sitting down among the other losers.

[sunfloweradoring]

the one where he’s jealous at an award show

Who doesn’t love a bit of jealous!harry, am I right?

masterlist

word count: 2.8k

“Wow,” Harry’s words escaped his lips along with a dragged out breath. “You look... stunning.” I turned around on the little stool I had been sat on while my makeup artist Lucy finished off the final touches. 

“Thank you, Haz.” I grinned, shooting Lucy an apologetic smile as she sighed because of my movements. “You don’t scrub up too bad yourself, Styles.” I admired through the mirror. His ever broadening chest and shoulders were carrying a black blazer over a white suit shirt. His legs were covered by matching black suit trousers. “You look sexy.” I winked. 

Harry smirked, shaking his head as he sat on my bed. “You’re dirty.” He jokingly chastised, clearly putting on a show in front of Lucy as that certainly wouldn’t have been his response if we were alone. 

“All done, and I’m going to go before the sexual tension suffocates me.” Lucy laughs, putting the mascara wand back into the tube. I stood up, giving her a hug as I thanked her for her handy work. Turning around I could see Harry’s eyes scanning all over my body. The emerald silk dress seemed to hug my body, clinging to my waist and flowing down to the ground. I stepped forward, my right leg pulling on the dress enough for the slit on the left to open slightly, my tanned thigh peeking through. 

“Did you fake tan?” Harry questioned, his eyes almost glued to the patch of skin the dress was revealing. I hummed in response, walking towards him and placing my hands on his shoulders.

“Please don’t mess up my work.” Lucy teased as she left the room after packing away her things. 

“Are you ready?” I asked, softly running my hands over the blazer. Harry stood up, his hands easily sliding around my silky waist. 

“Gimme a kiss first, then I might be ready.” 

I giggled, craning my neck only a little due to my extended height, curtesy of my nude heels. Leaning in our lips gently pressed together for merely a few seconds before I retreated. “There.” I stated, moving to pull away.

“No, wait, that was nothing!” Harry whined, his grip on my waist tightening to prevent me leaving.

“You said ‘a’ kiss.” 

“I also said ‘might’ so shows how you listened.” He leaned down again, this time pressing his lips more firmly to mine. Without me even really realising it he deepened the kiss, causing my arms to snake slowly around his neck. This time it was my turn to whine when the kiss was broken. 

“Harry,” I whined, lips chasing after his as they retreated.

“Nah, gotta go now, Princess.” He smirked, gently pushing me away by my hips.

Smarmy bastard. 

                                                       -------------

“Over here!”

“Can we get a quick, cheeky kiss guys?!”

“Hey Harry!”

“Harry what do you think of her movie?!”

The bombardment of questions was paired with the almost constant sound of camera shutters. Things had definitely taken off in my career in the last few months; especially due to the attention the latest film I’d been in with Zac Efron received. 

Harry’s hand gently squeezed mine, causing my eyes to shift in his direction, a smile gracing my mouth. We stopped in front of a set of photographers and Harry repositioned his arm around my waist as mine mirrored his. 

“How do you feel about your girlfriend with Zac in this, Harry?!” Someone shouted from the sea of cameras. Harry chuckled, looking down at his feet momentarily.

“They’re great together.” He teased, glancing down at me as I laughed and shook my head. 

“Are you proud?” Another voice questioned loudly.

“Extremely.” Harry replied, both of us smiling at each other.

“Thank you.” I mouthed, gently squeezing his side.

We were quickly ushered on by my publicist to a group of people with microphones as well as cameras, all eagerly waiting for the celebrities making their way down the carpet for interviews.

I followed the directions of my publicist to a woman I recognised from various TV appearances. Harry let go of my hand. “I’ll meet you inside, yeah?” He smiled encouragingly, nodding towards the interviewer.

“Okay, bub, see you in a sec.” I agreed, blowing him a kiss as I stood ready.

“Well hello you! Don’t you look absolutely breathtaking.” The woman gushed, gesturing towards my body. 

“Thank you so much! But look at you, I love this dress, and your bracelet, I need sunglasses.” I laughed, pretending to shy away from the sparkling band around her wrist. 

“Oh, you flatter me.” She chuckled, pushing her hair out of her face. “So this film, huh? What an amazing reception; up for four awards tonight. How are you feeling?” 

I exhaled dramatically. “I honestly can’t articulate it. It’s fantastic, you know. When you put so much time and effort and energy into something, it’s indescribable. Everyone on that film worked so, so hard and you could tell that we were all so proud of the parts we played in bringing this story to life.”

“I can hear the passion in your voice, it’s great. How confident are you that your co-star Zac will come away with his nomination tonight? Best actor isn’t it?” 

I nodded in confirmation. “Look, Zac is great, he’s so talented and like I said, worked immensely hard. He definitely deserves to come away with that award.” I smiled. 

                                                      -------------

“Are you going in?” I turned around at the voice, my eyes meeting Zac’s.

“Hey! Yeah, I literally have no clue where I’m sat but I’m hoping to spot Harry in there.” I replied, accepting the side hug he gave me.

“Harry’s here? Can I come say hi?” Zac asked, following me into the room that was to host the awards show.

“Of course!” I nodded, both of us searching the room in hopes of finding that mass of curls poking out from somewhere. When I spotted him, I gestured for Zac to follow me again before heading towards him.

“Hello!” I greeted, leaning down and kissing Harry’s cheek as I sat down in the seat next to him, slightly bumping the table in the process.

“Woah, clumsy.” Harry laughed, looking at me for a second before realising we had company. “Zac! Hi! How are you mate?”

“I’m great, buddy. Thought I’d come over and say hey, but it seems like you’re stuck with me for the rest of the night.” He laughed in response, nodding his head to the woman I’d only just noticed sat on the other side of the table that I recognised to be his agent. He took the seat on the other side of Harry, speaking a few words to his agent in the process.

“How were the interviews?” Harry asked, turning his attention back to me.

“They were sweet, all wishing Zac good luck and wanting us to win the awards tonight.” I recalled, leaning on my hand as my elbow rested on the table cloth. Harry’s pointer finger on his left hand gently stroked up and down my dress covered leg absentmindedly. 

“Did they like your dress?” He asked, leaning in to place a kiss to my cheek. I flushed slightly as I made eye contact with Zac. Despite working in with him for months on end, at the end of the day I’m not even 18 yet and he’s in his 20s. 

“Yeah.” I replied, slightly blunt, clearing my throat and sitting up more straight. Harry noticed the change in my demeanour and glanced over his shoulder to see Zac looking away. It was almost unnoticeable, but for a split second his eyebrows creased as he looked between me and Zac. 

“You alright?” He asked, leaning towards me a little more so the conversation was more private.

“Yeah, of course.” I smiled at him.                             

                                                      -------------

The rest of the evening progressed nicely; various actors, directors and writers were called up to accept their awards and watching their excitement paired with undying gratitude made me shuffle with anticipation for the awards where my film was nominated. 

“And presenting the award for Best Actor we have Bradley Cooper!” The crowd clapped as Bradley walked out on to the stage, fingers grasping an envelope. 

“With the nominees up for this award... it’s intense.”  Bradley laughed into the microphone, causing a chorus of laughter to ripple throughout the room. Zac glanced at me and Harry with a smile, but it was evident that nerves were simmering beneath the surface. “You’re all deserving of this, but as we all know: there can only be one winner. So with my greatest pleasure, the award for Best Actor goes to... Zac Efron!” Zac jumped up from his seat, grinning from ear to ear.

“Congratulations!” Both Harry and I spoke, smiling as Zac embraced his agent quickly. 

“Gotta give you a hug,” Zac laughed, delivering a friendly clap on the back to Harry as he shimmied around his chair to pull me into a tight hug. I could feel Harry watching us, but it was just a congratulatory hug! Right?

Zac pulled away, shooting me another smile before walking away to the stage. Bradley hugged him before passing him the award, then stepping back a little to allow Zac the microphone.

“Wow,” Zac breathed, glancing between the crowd and the award he seemed to be holding in a vice grip. “This is such an honour. I mean to be nominated alongside some of your absolute heroes would have been enough. But to win, thank you. Thanks to every single person that worked on this film, it was electric. Everyone working both behind and in front of the camera made my job a hell of a lot easier, so I share this award with you.” He said, holding it up momentarily. “However, I have to give a special thanks to my co-star. Acting with you was a pleasure. Your talent and work ethic pushed me to new levels and I cannot thank you enough. This is also yours, Y/N.” 

Everyone erupted into applause once more as Bradley and Zac left the stage. Well, everyone expect me and Harry. During Zac’s speech he’d turned to me with a look of disbelief. His piercing gaze was certainly enough to prevent me from clapping my hands.

“What the fuck was that?” Harry questioned, leaning closer to me, his knee bumping into mine accidentally in his haste. 

“It was just a speech, Harry.” I let out a little nervous laugh. Usually I would have just brushed it off, yet the intense glare I was receiving was somewhat intimidating.

“That was... like a declaration of love!” He countered. 

“Don’t be silly.” 

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. He was just accepting an award.” I replied. “And even if it were a declaration of love, it doesn’t matter. You know I don’t see him like that.” Harry scoffed, about to deal a snarky remark but cut himself off when Zac returned to the table. 

“Well how freaking amazing was that?” He grinned, seemingly oblivious to the tension swirling around the air above our table. Harry released a huff, leaning back in his seat, looking at me as if I was supposed to explain to Zac. I ignored him, smiling at Zac. 

“Well done.” I simply spoke. 

All my previous excitement and anticipation seemed to have completely drained from my body. Harry was killing the mood by constantly huffing, glaring towards Zac (both when Zac was and wasn’t looking) and only giving short, blunt replies. I was slowly becoming irritated at his childishness, and quite frankly, he was coming across as extremely rude. 

“Are you guys coming to the afterparty?” Zac asked, leaning across the table just before the final award of the evening was to be announced. Before I could even open my mouth to form a reply, Harry cut in.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” His voice almost came out as a growl, causing Zac to look at him a little taken aback.

“Sorry?” Zac asked, furrowing his brows.

“Oh sod off, mate! You’ve been eyeing her up all night; Christ probably for the last few months you’ve been working together. She’s in a relationship, alright? She’s not interested!” Suddenly an overwhelming sense of nausea took over my entire being. I felt hot with humiliation and sick with embarrassment. Honestly, I didn’t want to hear where this could go.

I quickly gathered my clutch, roughly shoving my chair back as I stood up. Both men were now looking at me. “I can’t believe you sometimes.” I muttered, looking momentarily at my boyfriend before turning to walk to the doors.

                                                     -------------

“Baby, wait!”

“Can you please slow down!”

I kept walking through the large building towards where the car was supposed to pick us up. I’d sent the driver a text, saying plans had changed and we were leaving slightly early and he told me where to meet him. After quickly observing there wasn’t yet a car in the agreed place, I waited inside, not fancying fans spotting either Harry or I and coming over. Harry’s hand grabbed my elbow when he approached which I quickly jerked away. 

“Please don’t.” I spoke, voice calm and level. “Just don’t.”

“But-”

“No, we’re going back, you’ve humiliated me and I don’t want to talk about it yet. And I don’t want to talk about it here.” 

Soon enough we were in the car, the awkward tension heavy in the air throughout the entire journey. No words were exchanged as we entered the hotel, the silence continuing as we waited for the lift, went upstairs and until we were back in the hotel room that was honestly large enough to be an apartment. 

“Baby-”

“How could you Harry?” I questioned, whirling around as soon as he pushed the door closed. 

“Okay, I get that you’re mad.” He spoke, his eyes avoiding my gaze, finding the carpeted floor more interesting. “And yes I might have overreacted a little, but c’mon, you’ve gotta admit you might have under-reacted too?” Talk about throwing petrol on a fire.

“Have you ever annoyed anyone before? You don’t say that!” I retaliated, going into the bedroom and throwing my clutch on the duvet as I kicked off my heels. “Zac is my friend. My friend, Harry! When have I ever given you any cause to worry about my loyalty to you? I don’t say anything about you having female friends! Heck, you’re even friends with your ex, do I say anything? No, no I don’t because I’m mature enough to trust you.”

His hand came up to rub against his forehead at this, clearly understanding that he didn’t have a leg to stand on anymore. “I don’t doubt you. I just... it makes me... the thought of him... I don’t know!” He released a frustrated groan, hands pulling a little at his hair. “He just seems to have everything, you know? I can’t compete with that.” From my place sat on the bed, my expression softened. I got up, walking over to him. When his eyes didn’t move from the floor, I reached out and took his hand. 

“Hey,” I breathed. “It’s not a competition.” Slowly his gaze lifted and I could see the tears swimming in his eyes, threatening to spill out. “He doesn’t have everything.” I comforted, my free hand reaching up and pushing his hair back. “He’s not you, you know. That’s quite a big thing for me.” Both of us cracked a smile, Harry pushing a short breath out of his nose as a laugh. “I love you. I can honestly say with my whole heart, there is no one else for me, okay? No one I’d rather be with.”

“No one?”

“No one.” 

“You’re just... you’ve made me so happy the last couple of months. I couldn’t imagine not being with you. I love you so, so, so much.” My cheeks blushed at his words, yet he continued. “You’re like this perfect angel, and I question how you could be with someone like me. Like, I’m just this normal teenager that happened to be in the right place at the right time and now I’m in a band. You give me everything. You’re like a sunflower, always following the light and seeing the good in people and situations and I just... love you, s’all.” I giggled, stepping up on my toes to press my lips to his.

“Done?” 

“Yeah, think so.”

“You couldn’t be further from the truth, baby.” I smiled, gently poking his nose. “You’re perfect. You’re not this average teenager, you know? You’re so immensely talented, you’re kind, you’re loving, and you’re always there for the people that you love. I feel so genuinely lucky to even know you, let alone be in a relationship with you.” His hands moved to my hips, gently pushing me towards the bed. 

“Thank you.” He muttered, sitting with me on the bed. A comfortable silence came over us as we stared at one another, cheesy grins plastered over our mouths. “You’re not jealous I’m still friends with Caroline, are you?” He teased, bumping his shoulder against mine playfully.

“Shut up.”

[barnesandrogersfanfics]

Ocean Eyes - Part 2

It was an unusually hot day, so i pulled out Mason's kiddy pool and filled it for him to cool off in. I was sat on one of the sun loungers close by reading my book where i could still keep an eye on him.

"Mom?"

"Yeah babe?"

"Is auntie Hannah coming round soon with Lucas? Im bored"

"They should be here soon buddy" i smiled over at him.

"Okay.... im hungry"

"Fine.... i'll go get you something but you have to come out the water while i'm inside...."

"Oh mom i dont wanna get out...."

"Mace come on now...." i rolled my eyes putting my book down.

"Knock knock" i heard a very familiar voice call out from behind, i turned and stared wide eyed at none other than Scott Evans!!

"Scott.... what... what are you doing here?" I asked standing up and walking over to the back gate to let him in.

"Chris told me where you were, i had to come see you! I've missed you! You stopped replying to my messages and wouldn't take my calls...."

"Yeah i'm sorry Scott, that was a dick move" i nodded, I had been friends with the Evan's since we were kids.... best friends with Chris and Scott "i was dealing with some stuff.... guess i didn't handle it well"

"I can see that" he said looking over at Mason who was sat in the pool with his back to us as he crashed some toys around "he yours?"

"He is, thats Mason"

"Well you gonna introduce me properly??" He asked being his usual sassy self!

"Sure, come on over" i led the way over to where Mason was playing feeling my heart racing, i hadn't been this nervous in forever!

"Hey Mace? I want you to meet a friend of mine...."

Mason turned to face us and i heard Scott audibly gasp.

"This is my friend Scott"

"Hi" he said shyly looking Scott over.

"Hey bud, its nice to meet you...." Scott smiled at Mason before turning his attention to me with wide eyes as Mason carried on playing as if we wasn't there.

"Is there something you need to tell me Y/N?....."

I looked away from Scott keeping my eyes on my son, i shook my head in disbelief..... i did not expect to be having this conversation today!

"You know his a spitting image...."

"I know Scott! Im not blind" i snapped.

"But how?? I mean i know how! But...."

"Hey! Its just us...." i heard Hannah call from inside, she always let herself in.

"Hey.... oh shit"

"Hey Hannah, good to see you" Scott smiled with a little wave.

"Scott..... what a surprise..."

"Han, can you watch Mason while i go inside and talk to Scott?" I asked as i shifted nervously on the spot.

"Sure".

"Hi auntie Y/N!" Lucas said loudly as he ran past me heading to Mason.

"Hey buddy" i smiled at him as i led the way into the house with Scott following close behind.

"Okay so spill it" Scott said breaking the awkward silence between us as he pulled out a chair and sat down at the kitchen table.

"What do you already know? What did Chris tell you about us?...." i asked avoiding eye contact with him.

"Well obviously i know the two of you used to hook up occasionally.... he said he just lost contact with you when you left town"

"Wow....." i scoffed shaking my head "is your brother still an asshole?"

"Why are you calling him an asshole? I thought you guys were friends??"

"We were. Then we were more.....or at least i thought so"

"You two were serious?"

"I guess not"

"He never said anything...."

"Before he made it 'big' with the whole Captain America thing we were serious"

"How serious?"

"Serious enough to get married....."

"Im sorry WHAT???!!"

"Yep"

"How did i not know about this??? when did this happen??" he stared at me with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open as he tried to process the information.

"You remember the weekend in Vegas for my birthday, before he started filming Winter Soldier?....that one night you got food poisoning and stayed in bed..."

"You got married in Vegas?! were you both drunk??"

"Nope, stone cold sober" i shrugged "god i loved him Scott.... he was telling me he loved me and talking about starting a family..... we walked past a chapel and he asked me to marry him. Promised we'd do it properly when we got home...."

"My god...... so what happened?"

"Chris wanted to wait until he finished filming to tell everyone.... or so he said. When he came home once he was done filming he told me we had made a mistake. His career was taking off and he wouldn't have time for a wife..... he was getting a lot of attention from women, he didn't want to be tied down with me did he?"

"Did he say that?!"

"He didn't have to, he was pictured with different women all the time" i shrugged.

"What an asshole!" Scott spat sounding pissed at his brother "how could he do that to you of all people??"

I shook my head as i thought back on the time i was heartbroken.... pining for my best friend... my husband, and he had so easily forgotten about me, i quickly wiped a stray tear away before Scott could see.

"I found out i was pregnant two weeks later. I tried calling him but he never answered or returned my messages..... so i made a choice. I decided to pack up and leave, start somewhere new where i could raise my baby. I received divorce papers shortly after which i signed and returned, i didnt want anything to do with him"

"You should have called me! I wouldve talked some sense into him!"

"He didn't want me Scott let alone a baby.... he made his choice and i made mine" i smiled looking out the window at my beautiful boy "i dont regret it for a second, Mason is my world. He's my perfect little boy.... even if he does look like a spitting image of his father. Thats the hardest part.... its the eyes.... he has his eyes".

Scott was suddenly beside me pulling me into his arms and holding me tight.

"Im so sorry sweetie"

"Its fine.... it was a long time ago.... when Chris showed up here yesterday i nearly had a heart attack!" I mumbled against Scotts chest.

"I bet.... why was he here?"

"Apparently we're still married! That jackass never filed the papers! But now he's seeing someone and its getting serious he wants the option of marrying her"

"You should tell him about Mason....."

"I can't Scott, he'd hate me.... what if he tried to take Mason from me?"

"He wouldn't do that, he might want a chance to get to know his son but he wouldn't hurt you like that....."

"Can you be sure? 100% sure that he wouldn't want to take Mason?? I've seen some of his interviews about wanting kids...."

"Don't you want Mason to know his father?"

"Of course! You dont think i wanted my son to have a dad? I tried to tell him Scott but he ghosted me!"

"Look i love my brother you know that, i know what he was like a few years back, he went through a phase of being an absolute douche bag..... but his different now"

"I'll think about it okay?"

"Okay..... i'll be there for you through it all i promise"

"Thank you Scotty, god I've missed you" i smiled giving him another hug "you staying for lunch? Mason's hungry"

"Id love to".

Scotts POV

Y/N stood at the front door waving me off with Mason, my NEPHEW! I still couldn't believe it.... Chris was a Father!!

I waved to them both as i pulled away and started my drive home. 20 minutes into my journey my cell started to ring, i looked down to see it was Chris calling.

"Hey"

"Hey, what you up to?"

"Just on my way home, i went to go see Y/N"

"Oh.... h..how was she?"

"Surprised to see me, but she was good"

"Good, thats good. What did she tell you?" He sounded worried, nervous even.

"I know everything...." i huffed out a breath "how could you be so fucking stupid Chris?? you married our best friend.... our oldest friend and then left her!"

"I was such an asshole back then.... i know, but i can't change that now can i?"

"No i guess not"

"It was so good seeing her yesterday man, made me realise how much I've missed her. I was hoping we could work things out, be friends at least but.... Scott she fucking hates me!"

"Can't say i blame her....."

"Im not that guy anymore Scott" he said sadly and i knew that, id seen the change in my brother over the years.

"Try and talk to her again, maybe she just needed to get over the shock of seeing you"

"You think she'd wanna see me?"

"I have no clue, but if you want to sort things out with her your going to have to make an effort with her. Let her see your not the same asshole that left her"

"Maybe i should just leave her alone, she's been fine without me...."

"Chris..... i wasn't going to say anything but theres something you should know...."

Everything taglist: @jesseswartzwelder @dumblani @barnesandrogersworld @patzammit @rynabarnesrogers-reading

Ocean eyes: @supraveng @michelehansel @melissaglenn5 (it wont tag you) @katiew1973 @denisemarieangelina

[b3k1720]

Kidnapped

Massive trigger warning! : swearing, kidnapping, violence, corporal punishment, abuse and child labour. Not going far in to detail but I don’t know what’s triggering for some and not for others.

................

Ever Since Jacob had arrived in London and met Clara he has always been trying to eradicate child labour.

But no matter his efforts children always seem to wind back up in the factories....

Whether by choice, desperation of need or by force...

It was a seemingly normal day for the Frye family, Wednesday morning Rebekah sent Amelia and Emmette off to school with a hug and a kiss.

“When you get home for lunch there will be chocolate cake waiting so don’t take long, it goes cold quick” she announced.

“Okay mum!” Emmette answered with a large smile, extremely excited at the thought of gorging on cake then going back to school to brag about it to his friends.

“Come on we gotta go or we’ll be late Emmy” Amelia urged as she grabbed his hand and pulled him out the door.

The siblings walked down the Main Street of the strand, or more in their case jogged.

DING DING!, sounded the bell of Big Ben.

“Oh no we’re going to be late!”

“Don’t worry I know a short cut” Emmette offered as he pointed to the alley near them,

“That’ll take us to class in less than five minutes my friend Danny told me about it!”

Amelia looked to the alley...she didn’t know if it was a good idea...

“But mum and dad said not to go through alleys..” she answered in a worried tone.

“Hey do you want to get the cane because I don’t” Emmette huffed.

“No...ok but we gotta be quick!” Amelia quickly yelled to her brother before she started to run in to the alleyway.

Emmette followed close behind, not stopping at all!

Halfway though their path was blocked...by men in red.

“Hello kiddies...where are you both off to?” on of them called out with a grin.

Both the children took a step back, their father warned them about the blighters....although years ago he took control of London from them there was always those who stayed loyal...

“We are going to school...please we are already late” Amelia tried to beg, she didn’t want any trouble to start...they had some defence training but it would be useless against five large men with weapons.

“Oh I don’t think you lot need school, it’s pretty useless when you think about it” another man commented with a chuckle.

“Besides I think you’d both do well at the brick making plant...don’t you think boys?” Another added which caused the others to agree.

By this point even Emmette was getting scared,

“W-We don’t want to work in the factory...o-our mother wouldn’t like it” the poor boy stammered.

“We weren’t asking brat!” The man who spoke before growled as he grabbed Amelia and another grabbed Emmette.

Both the children let out screams,

“Let us go, please, please!” Emmette cried as the men got out some rope and tied them up.

“When our daddy finds out he’ll make you pay!” Amelia screamed, trying to put on a brave face for her little brother, which in the end was useless as she began to cry as well.

The Blighters laughed and shoved rags in their mouths to shut them up, they couldn’t have attention drawn to them of course.

Soon the children were thrown in to a carriage and taken across the city...

A few hours later Rebekah patiently waiting for her children to arrive home for lunch,

But as the hour passed she began to worry...

“What’s taking them so long..” she muttered to herself as the heat dissipated from the cake.

Soon it was one’ o’clock, lunchtime passed...the children had never missed lunch before.

Rebekah had a sick feeling fall on her...she had to be sure nothing had happened...

So quickly she threw on her coat, locked up the house and made her way down to the school.

‘Maybe they didn’t finish there work and had to stay in’ she thought in hope.

‘Maybe they met Jacob and he took them to get lunch instead’ Rebekah hoped and prayed she was right, before heading up the steps to the school house.

Carefully she knocked on the door and all noise inside ceased before it was opened by a tall man wearing a black suit and small glasses.

“Mrs Frye I wasn’t expecting you...why the visit?” Mr baileys asked.

“I’ve just come to see Amelia and Emmette, just for a moment and I will be on my way” Rebekah answered with a nervous smile.

“I’m sorry Mrs Frye...I was under the impression the children were sick...they didn’t arrive for morning classes” he answered with some confusion in his tone.

“W-What?”

Rebekah felt weak, she felt absolutely sick and a rush of pure terror filled her.

Where were her babies!?

“Oh god” she cried before quickly dismissing herself and running back home, tears in her eyes and her throat almost closing up.

“Mrs Frye you alright?” A rook asked as they happened to be close by, seeing her upset and stopping her.

“N-No no I’m n-not p-please please y-you have to find j-Jacob!” Rebekah cried as they sat her down on some steps.

“Y-you have to find my h-husband Amelia a-and Emmette a-are missing!” She sobbed as it felt harder to breathe.

Oh where were they!

“It’s ok mrs we’ll find him!” The rook announced before whistling to attract the attention of his comrades.

“Go find the boss, it’s urgent!”

They nodded and quickly sped away!

It wasn’t long till they found him near the Thames beating up a man who had been intentionally selling tainted food.

“Boss you gotta come quick, it’s your Mrs!” One of the rooks yelled to their leader.

“What!?” Jacob answered before dropping the man and sprinting over to the carriage,

“Take me to her quick” he ordered.

Again it wasn’t long until they made their way back to where Rebekah was sitting, sobbing and trying to calm herself.

Seeing his wife utterly distraught Jacob launched himself from the carriage and pulled her in to his arms.

“What happened, are you alright what’s wrong?!” He asked in a urgent and rushed manner.

Jacob made Rebekah look at him, he was worried sick he’d never seen her this distraught.

“A-Amelia and E-Emmette didn’t come h-home for l-lunch!” She cried.

“I-I went to the s-school to s-see if t-they were ok b-but their t-teacher said t-they didn’t c-come to cl-class this morning!”

Jacob felt himself now go pale.... this wasn’t good.

Blighters were still around, but there was a large number of people in London who would hurt children as well.

“It’s going to be ok d-darling w-we’ll find them” he answered shakily as he tried to console her.

“Let’s get you home...I’ll go find them” Jacob added as he helped her up and began to walk her home.

He to was scared for his children, he didn’t have any clues yet but he hid his worry.

Once home he sat her in the lounge room to relax the best she could before hurrying off to find them.

Meanwhile in Whitechapel Amelia and Emmette weren’t fairing well, once they were taken from the alley they were put straight to work.

The air in the factory was hot from the kilns, the dust hurt their eyes and got in their lungs causing them to feel sick and cough.

They were both given shovels and made to scoop coal in to the roaring fire.

“Hurry up or there won’t be any dinner for any of you brats!” The foremen yelled before heading back in to his office.

“I’m scared Meli” Emmette whimpered as he started to cry again,

The other children kept busy at their work, telling him to be quiet would only get them in trouble.

“I-I know Emmy b-but we gotta be brave” Amelia answered quickly before a blighter came up to the boy and smacked him upside the head.

“Shut up and work or I’ll have you both drowned in the cistern!” they threatened, pointing to a large metal barrel filled with water before hitting Amelia to and walking off.

Considering the era...this punishment was light.

Amelia rubbed her head, let out a sob as did Emmette and kept working the best they could.

It took Jacob well in to the night to find any clues of his children’s where-bouts, he searched all of London with his rooks offering a cash reward for anyone who could find them and report to him!

Around five in the morning it came as he was searching by a pub in Southwark, he heard a man drunkenly talking to another.

“I got five bob each for two kids I snatched yesterday at the strand” he laughed before taking a swig of his pint.

Jacob stood around the corner close by to listen.

“I sold ‘em to a buddy of mine in Whitechapel, chained them to a furnace he has” the man laughed as did the other.

“Cried like whimps begging for their mummy, the girl threatened to have her father on to me!” He bellowed.

‘You bloody bastard..’ Jacob growled to himself, not being able to stand it anymore!

Quick as a flash he had the man out of his chair pinned to the floor with a gun to his head.

“Where is the factory!” He roared.

“Who the fuck are you!?”

“I’m that girls father, you better tell me where my children are or that poor barkeep will be scrubbing your brains from the wood!” Jacob yelled as he jammed the gun in to the perpetrator.

The man started to splutter and whimper, the assassin almost swore he smelt urine!

“T-The brick factory I-in Whitechapel, p-please please let me go!”

The master assassin nodded and let him go but not before shooting him in the hand,

“Snatch anymore children again and I’ll fucking take your hands” he growled before running off, the mans screams behind him.

Jacob took a carriage and sped to Whitechapel...hoping they’d both be ok...

Later that morning Amelia and Emmette were woken to the machines roaring to life, they had been chained to the kilns all night by their waists and ankles.

Both children were exhausted!

“Get up you lazy good for nothing’s before you get a beating!” The foreman shouted pulling both of them up and shoving their tools in their hands.

And they tried to work they really did but poor Emmette was falling behind, stopping to rub his eyes and cough.

In the time they had been there their clothes and bodies were covered in soot and grime, turning their freckled skin black from the layers of coal dust.

Noticing this a large blighter picked him up and unchained him roughly,

“Tired eh? Well a dip should wake you!” He laughed before dragging Emmette away.

“Stop! Please don’t hurt him!” Amelia cried trying to hit the man with the heavy shovel, failing and being swatted away with a large slap.

The blighter took him over and held him head first over the cistern before dunking him under the water.

Left him there for longer than needed then let him up, laughing at the child’s spluttering and gasping before putting him back in.

‘THWAK!’ The blighter gasped before slumping to the floor and letting Emmette fall to the ground.

The children in the factory screamed out of fright as a large swarm of rooks ran in and started to kill the overseers.

“Daddy!” Amelia cried as Jacob jumped down from the beam above them and ran to them, there fire in his eyes and a terrible rage in his heart that only went away when he saw his children...

“Amelia sweetheart” he gasped, she was sooty and barely recognisable!

Quickly the assassin hugged her and smashed the chains off her body.

Then he went to his son, his precious boy and helped him up.

Emmette’s face wasn’t as dirty anymore from the dunking but the poor kid was trembling from the experience.

“D-Daddy..”

“Shh Shh it’s alright, let’s go home it’ll be ok” Jacob tried to comfort him as he held him in his arms before heading out to the carriage with his children.

A rook was kind enough to drive as Jacob sat in the back with them, cleaning off their faces and comforting them.

Rebekah hadn’t slept the whole night, crying and trying not to be sick with worry.

She waiting in the living room, pacing and waiting for Jacob to come home. Thinking of every horrible possibility to arise.

She prayed and hoped they would be ok!

The door suddenly opened and in ran Amelia!

“Mummy!” She cried and hugged her, Jacob came in holding Emmette who was still trembling.

Rebekah couldn’t do anything but cry and hold her daughter tight before getting her son off Jacob and holding him to.

It was a beautiful but traumatic reunion for the whole family....

For a while Emmette refused to bathe or swim as the water scared him to much.

Amelia didn’t ever walk alone, she only felt safe when her father or mother was with her, walking her to school and picking her up for lunch and after school as well.

And unfortunately both children would have night terrors for a very long time....

[schrijverr]

How to care for a sick Jonny d’Ville

Jonny isn’t feeling well after a night of drinking, when Tim finds out he isn’t just hungover but actually sick, he takes care of him and ropes Ashes and Marius into it as well.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: Vomiting and mentions of Jonnys self esteem or lack thereof. Tell me if I missed anything or if you want me to tag anything!

~~~~~~~~~

Jonny felt woozy. It suddenly hit him when he stood up from the table they had all sat at during the night as slowly more alcohol made its way into their systems while they played cards.

He blinked heavily a few times and tried to steady himself on his feet as the ground continued to sway beneath his feet.

Ashes noticed him struggling and laughed: “Still can’t handle your liquor, can you, Jonny?”

“I can, shut up.” he frowned at them, then started to doubt himself. He wasn’t that drunk, was he? No. He couldn’t be, he had drank much more than this in the past and he had been fine, he knew how to hold his goddamn liquor.

But why was he so dizzy then?

Shaking his head in an attempt to clear it almost made him fall over and he grumbled something about needing to lie down as the rest of the table laughed at him while he stumbled away.

When he finally collapsed on his bed, after a walk that took way too long for the length it was, he groaned in relief. He felt terrible. He hoped the hangover would be less shit than this, it had been so long since drinking had gone over wrong that he barely recognized it.

The next day he woke up feeling even more shitty then when he’d gone to bed. He had a terrible headache and when he’d tried to sit up he had nearly vomited all over himself, almost not making it to the toilet before his stomach emptied itself.

Now he was still sitting next to it. He hadn’t found the energy in himself to get up from the floor and the coolness of the toilet bowl was welcome against his forehead.

He had practically decided to just stay there for the entire day and wallow in misery when the door of his room slammed open with a bang making him wince in pain as his headache flared up again.

Tims entirely too cheery voice called out: “You still alive, d’Ville?”

“Go away.” Jonny groaned back, “Too early.”

Poking his head around the entrance of the bathroom Tim grinned as he took in Jonnys state and said: “It’s been over a day, Jonny. How much did you even drink?”

“Not that much.” Jonny said with a frown, before Tim turned on the lights and the sudden brightness made him vomit again.

“You sure, because you look like shit.” Tim laughed, the bastard.

Jonny shot him a glare and told him: “I didn’t even finish my bottle, fucker. I did not drink too much, it just fell wrong or something.”

Then the effort that had taken was too much and he sagged against the toilet once more as he hoped that Tim would kindly fuck off and turn off the lights as he went.

Alas no such fate was in the cards for him, because instead Tim told him to stop being a baby, before he bodily picked him off the floor and slung him over his shoulders in a fireman carry. He also picked up the bin and handed it to Jonny with a: “Don’t ruin my clothes or I will skin you.”

Jonny did not have any fight left in him and felt too weak to do anything other than give Tim a shaky thumbs up, before clutching the bin tightly near his face.

It had been good foresight of Tim to hand him said bin, because by the time they got to the main area Jonny was dry heaving in it, spit dripping from his lips since there wasn’t anything else in his stomach to be vomited up as reflective tears ruined his already smudged make up.

Tim by this point had gotten quite concerned.

He had thought Jonny was being dramatic, but right now he wasn’t so sure. It was unusual for him to react to a small amount of alcohol like this and Tim did vaguely remember Jonny drinking not that much.

Putting the First Mate gently down on the couch Tim knelt down in front of him and looked into his eyes. They were hazy and blank and didn’t seem to notice Tims expression grow even more concerned.

“Hey, Jonny, hey, look at me.” he waited until there was small sound of recognition, “You really are feeling shit, eh, no dramatics?”

Slowly Jonny shook his head, then he grinned slightly and said: “I’m never dramatic.”

A bit of relief washed over Tim, but he didn’t let is show as he rolled his eyes: “Not feeling bad enough to stop being a lying little shit, I see.”

Then he was suddenly confronted with the fact that he had no clue what to do now. His plan had been to throw some water in Jonnys face before giving him something for a hangover, but that plan was kind of fucked over by the fact that Jonny wasn’t hungover.

He awkwardly asked Jonny: “Uhm, is there anything I can, you know, do for you? Maybe get you back to bed or something?”

Jonny curled into himself, clutching the bin tightly to his chest and murmured: “Don’t wanna move. Cold?”

“Should I get you a blanket?” Tim asked, completely unsure of how to proceed.

Sliding onto his side Jonny nodded and shut his eyes again.

That was Tims cue to bolt, which he did. He knew he had an extra blanket in his room, he’d kept there just in case, back when he was still suspicious of Auroras ability to keep the ship running to everyone's preferences.

It seemed so dumb looking back on it, although he was glad he had the blanket now, he thought as he pulled the fluff bunch from a chest.

He hoped he would get back before Jonny was found by another crew member who didn’t know what was going on with him, since he already felt guilty enough for practically kidnapping him from his room, even if he had found him miserable on the ground next to the toilet with no intention of moving.

Returning to the couch he’d left Jonny on he was glad to see Jonny peacefully asleep on his own, the bin next to him on the ground.

Tim gently tucked Jonny in and grabbed some guns to clean, before carefully sliding Jonnys head in his lap and silently setting to his task while he kept an eye on Jonny.

After about two hours of silence it was broken by two sets of footsteps and the sound of Marius and Ashes arguing about something.

At the sound Jonny stirred slightly under Tims hands, which he had on his head since he was playing with his hair, something he had started doing after he was done with cleaning his guns.

Tim tried to soothe him and keep him asleep, so right as Marius and Ashes entered he gave them a glare and shushed them.

They seemed taken aback by it, but stayed silent as they shot Tim a questioning look. He pointed to Jonny and softly said: “He’s sick.”

Ashes raised a brow and told him: “He’s probably being melodramatic, you saw him stumble after drinking. I told him he couldn't handle his liquor.”

“I thought so too, but he barely drank anything for his standards.” Tim replied.

“He is right, Ashes. Jonny was pretty moderate.” Marius commented.

“I still don’t believe it.” Ashes crossed their arms, before kneeling next to Jonny and saying: “Hey, Jonny, come on.”

Tim was too late in his attempt to stop them and soon Jonny blinked open his eyes slowly and croaked: “Ashes? What? You?”

They hummed: “Oh, he really seems out of it.” then they a bit louder they said: “Jonny, are you good? What’s happening?”

“He’s sick, Ashes.” Tim shot them a glare.

“Yeah and if we know what he has maybe we can fix him.” Ashes glared back, they pointed at Marius, “We got our Doctor here, he should be able to help.”

“We both know Marius isn’t a real Doctor.”

“Hey!”

“Shut up, Marius.”

“No need to be rude, Ashes.”

“Just look at Jonny, von Raum.”

Marius softly repeated Ashes words in a mocking manner, but also squatted down next to them to take a look at Jonny. He smiled at the First Mate and gently said: “Hey there, buddy. Tim said you feel a bit unwell, can you tell me what you feel?”

Jonny squinted at the light and the noise, before burrowing his face into Tims lap and mumbling: “Pain, bad.”

Ashes and Marius shared a look, then turned to Tim, who gave them an ‘I-told-you-so’ face, after which he turned back to Jonny and continued to pet his head again.

Marius nodded, more to himself, then attempted conversation with Jonny once more: “I get that you’re feeling awful, Jonny. I can see you’re sick, but I need specifics so we can maybe lessen the pain and the bad feeling.”

Turning his head back to Marius as he peaked at the Doctor over Tims knee, Marius had to stop himself from fawning over the cute picture Jonny made. Then he said hoarsely: “Stomach feels weird and head hurts, lights bright.”

“Good, good, well done, thank you, Jonny.” Marius smiled at him.

Jonny nodded, closing his eyes and turning back into Tims lap seemingly satisfied with his contribution.

“He also vomited a lot.” Tim told him.

“So what’s the verdict, Doctor?” Ashes asked him.

Under two pairs of scrutinizing eyes, Marius carefully said: “I think it’s a stomach bug native to the planet we were just on. It’s probably not going to spread from him, which is good news!”

“Oh no, what is the bad news.” Tim asked, a warning tone in his voice.

“Nothing bad, nothing bad.” Marius quickly assured him, “Just that we cannot do anything other than keep him hydrated and warm until this blows over.”

After a beat Tim said: “Then we should probably get him some water, since I don’t he’s been drinking anything since he was with us.”

“No wonder he has a headache then.” Ashes exclaimed.

“It’s not my fault, I just picked him up from the floor and put him somewhere soft.” Tim replied indignantly.

Marius got up with an eyeroll and as he walked away to get some water for Jonny, he called over his shoulder: “Arguing isn’t going to make him feel better.”

He did not see Ashes and Tim flipping him off in sync, having found a common enemy in Marius and the fact that he was right, which was annoying.

While he was gone, Ashes looked at Jonny and also petted his side for a moment, then they asked Tim: “Are you okay? How long have you been sitting here with him?”

“A few hours now. Two, maybe three.” Tim shrugged, “He’s been asleep the whole time, just woke up to vomit a few times. It’s been alright, cleaned my guns. Although my leg has fallen asleep.”

“Wanna switch?” Ashes asked.

“What?”

“Switch.” they repeated, “I take him for a moment, you can stretch your legs.”

Tim gave them a look and teased: “I thought you said he was just being dramatic. Does your little black heart still has a bit of caring left in it.”

Ashes glared at him and threatened: “You’re stuck there, Tim. I wouldn't try anything when you can’t run from me.”

“Alright, alright.” Tim raised his hands disarmingly, “But I honestly wouldn't mind the switch.”

Right at that point Marius returned with the water and announced: “I think someone is going to have to hold him up while he drinks and I also think he isn’t going to be pleased by that fact, so lets be nice.”

Tim nodded and softly woke Jonny up again. The First Mate in his lap whined slightly when he got woken up and pouted as he blinked his eyes open slowly.

“I know, Jonny, we’re all meanies for waking you up.” Marius smiled at him, “But I have some water for you, it’ll help with the headache and probably the jucky taste and the dry throat. You can go to bed again right after, I promise.”

Jonny smacked a bit when Marius mentioned the taste and dry throat and grimaced, making the three other chuckle. He squinted at them suspiciously and hoarsely pouted: “Are you laughing at me?”

Tim ran a hand through his hair and smirked: “Of course not, Jonny.”

It seemed like Jonny didn’t really believe him, but he did allow Tim to lever him up into a sitting position, leaning heavily against Tims side.

He wanted to take the glass from Marius hands, but he shook his head and kindly told him: “I would let you. I know you don’t like it, but I think you would like it even less when you drop all the water on yourself.”

“Who says I’m gonna do that.” Jonny croaked.

Marius raised an eyebrow at him and shared a disbelieving look with Ashes and Tim. Tim quickly glanced at Jonny then rolled his eyes, while Ashes just shrugged in a way that asked ‘are-you-really-surprised?’

“I’m not saying you’re going to do that.” Marius sighed, “Just for me, okay.”

Jonny hesitated for a moment, but in the end he was tired and feeling bad and he honestly didn’t really feel like arguing, especially not while they all were being so nice to him and taking care of him.

So he didn’t protest when Marius raised the glass to his lips and helped him drink as he softly said: “Take small sips. That’s it.”

After the glass was empty Tim and Ashes swapped places. When Tim first started to get up Jonny made a small, confused noise, which he would later fiercely deny ever happened, as he gave Tim a hurt look.

Tim had to bite his lip to stop himself from either squealing or laughing at Jonny, before he explained: “My legs are a bit dead, so Ashes is going to stay with you for a while so that I can stretch, okay?”

A look of relief swept over Jonnys face that he quickly hid as he huffed: “Whatever, not like I care.”

All three suppressed an eyeroll at the obvious lie, but no one commented.

Ashes lowered Jonnys head until he was comfortably resting in their lap. He yawned then yawned again although he tried to power through it: “What are- what’re y’all gonna do?”

“Just mill around here, don’t worry about it, Jonny.” Marius quickly said, shooting a look at Ashes and Tim that Jonny couldn't see since his eyes were already closed.

“Goo’, goo’, ‘cause, you know, I was just gonna” a small yawn, “stay here too and-” and Jonny was asleep again.

Both Ashes and Tim couldn't stop the small snort at that and even Marius had to admit that that was pretty cute and funny.

“I am so teasing him with this when he’s feeling better.” Ashes grinned.

“God, yes.” Tim agreed.

Marius hesitated for a moment, then defectively said: “First lets make sure he does feel better, alright. I am filling up another glass of water for when he wakes up and I’m making him broth, he needs a bit of food in his system.”

Then he hurried off to the kitchen.

Tim stretched and told Ashes: “Are you going to be okay on your own for a while? Because I need to walk around a bit right now and I feel like Jonny needs better clothes than his stinky drinking clothes. It’s alright now, but when you’ve been sitting with him for a while, you’ll notice.”

Ashes made a disgusted face at that, before they shooed him out, telling him that if it really got that bad he’d better do something about it before it became their problem.

Giving them a lazy salute and a semi-scared grin Tim wiggled his legs a bit, before walking off to do what he had just said.

Meanwhile Ashes had taken up petting Jonnys hair with one hand while they flicked a lighter off and on with the other.

It seemed Jonny was out of it for now, apparently it had taken a lot out of him to sit up and drink, something that would have worried them more were it not for the fact that he was literally immortal and it would only be mildly uncomfortable if he died from this.

They saw Marius for a short second as he gave them the glass for when Jonny woke up again and checked up on them. Once he was satisfied with the answer he left them alone again with their thoughts.

Jonny hadn’t been sick in a long while and it was strange to see him so cuddly and, not weak, but softer. He always took great care in maintaining a tough exterior that they sometimes almost forgot the boy he’d once been when they’d first met.

As they pondered this for a while, Jonny groaned and suddenly turned away from them as he hunched over the couch to vomit in the bin that was there.

He startled Ashes a bit, but they hurried to make sure he didn’t fall off the couch and, when it seemed his stomach had expelled all the water in it, they pulled him back onto the couch properly where he immediately whimpered slightly as he curled up against their chest.

Ashes could feel that he was quivering slightly and in a brief moment of tenderness they allowed themself to hold him close to their side and stroke his back as they whispered: “That seemed uncomfortable. Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“Throat hurts.” Jonny whined.

Silently they thanked Marius foresight as they got the glass and held it up to Jonnys lips as they gently said: “Here, drink this, it might help.”

Jonny frowned at the glass and tightened his lips as he refused to drink the water. Ashes frowned in turn at Jonny and asked: “Why don’t you want to drink the water?”

“I don’t wanna throw up again.” he whispered.

“Why don’t you take a small sip to rinse your mouth and you spit that out and then after that you take three sips, just three, you don’t have to drink the whole glass.” Ashes reasoned.

Jonny nodded and Ashes helped him do just that, before letting him sag against them again so that he could fall back into a fitful sleep.

It was at this point that Tim came back carrying a stack of clothes, makeup wipes, sandwiches and some things they could do while sitting down, like playing cards and some books.

He plonked it all down on the table and softly announced: “Jonny, we’re getting you in better clothes, buddy.”

The pile on the couch named Jonny just squinted at him and didn’t cooperate.

Ashes rolled their eyes and stated: “This is weird and I hate you for this.” as they started unbuckling his belts.

When those were off Jonny seemed willing to exchange his waistcoat and shirt for a soft sweater and his trousers for comfy joggers, although he did grumble and whine during the whole process and wiggled grouchily under his blanket when they were done.

Then, as Jonny continued to rest, Tim and Ashes started playing a game of cards, no high stakes or anything, just for fun, and ate some lunch.

They were just finishing their third round when Brian poked his head around the door frame and said: “Hello, are you all alright? Marius said Jonny wasn’t feeling well and you were keeping an eye on him. Is he okay?”

Tim glanced over to Jonnys sleeping form, then said: “He seems alright now, but he was vomiting earlier and he has done nothing but sleep, apparently it wasn’t just a hangover keeping him in his room.”

“That’s terrible.” Brian sounded concerned as he walked over to them on the couch to see Jonny for himself.

Jonny was fast asleep, his mouth a bit agape as he breathed softly. He was curled up under a big blanket and his makeup was smeared over his face staining Ashes trousers as he smushed his face into their leg.

Brian bit his lip lightly to keep himself from chuckling and instead commented: “Well, he seems to be in good hands. Shouldn’t we get rid of the makeup though?”

“I got the stuff.” Tim nodded to small pile at the edge of the table, “But he was already fussy about us forcing him in comfortable clothes that it didn’t seem worth it, it’s not like he’s noticed yet.”

Shrugging Brian made a ‘that’s-fair’ face, before he asked: “Is there anything you need? I can get it for you.” both shook their head, “Well, if you think of something give Aurora the message and she’ll tell me, okay?”

“Okay, thanks Brain.” Tim smiled, while Ashes gave him a lazy thumbs up.

He gave them an awkward wave before leaving. Don’t get him wrong, he loved his crew mates and checking up on Jonny after he’d heard the First Mate was sick was only logical, but he didn’t really like people touching him and with how he’d found Jonny, he didn’t mind not being the person to keep an eye on him.

By the time Marius showed up with the broth Tim and Ashes had switched places again and had turned to playing Uno.

Marius raised an eyebrow and the two fierce fighters arguing softly about Uno rules, while Tim tried not to jostle the sleeping Jonny. He cleared his throat and held up the broth: “Willing to help me get this into Jonny?”

Ashes gave the steaming broth a suspicious look: “Is that a smart idea, Marius? I mean just the water alone made him vomit again.”

“Yeah, I know, but he needs some food in him if he wants to recover, your body can’t heal itself without fuel.” Marius explained.

They gave him a slow one over, before they nodded.

While that was going on Tim had awoken Jonny, who blinked heavily as he tried to get away from Tims waking hand with little success. He mumbled: “Wha’s goin’ on?”

“Marius has some broth for you. You need to eat, Jonny.” Tim told him.

Jonny frowned and tried to hide under the blanket as he shook his head. Tim sighed: “Don’t be difficult, Jonny.”

That made Jonny peak out from under the blanket as he complained: “I’m not being difficult.”

“If you’re not being difficult then you will let us give you some broth to help you get better.” Tim said a bit harshly.

Jonny flinched away from the tone and stopped complaining. Tim felt a bit bad about it, but he was glad Jonny was allowing him to get him into a semi-sitting position.

Marius sat down next to Jonnys hips on the couch so that he could feed Jonny the broth. However, Jonny had slept through most of the day and felt a bit better now and he was not about to let Marius feed him, that would be embarrassing.

“I can eat fucking soup on my own, von Raum.” he said, crossing his arms.

“Jonny, I love you, but you absolutely can not do that right now, so I am going to feed you and you’re going to be fed, alright.” Marius told him, not willing to argue about this.

Let it be known that Jonny does not give in easily, he would fight and argue in any other circumstance, but his brain just cut out when Marius told him he loved him and he just gave in, a happy feeling bubbling up in his chest after Marius smiled: “Good job, buddy.”

Later he could be mad at himself for being so pliant and so happy about being cared for and praised, but right now he was sick and he could allow himself a few comforts.

Marius was pleased to see Jonny cooperate, obediently opening and closing his mouth around each spoon. It was only after about half the bowl was empty that Jonnys eyes flickered between Marius’s face and the spoon, before he refused, keeping his mouth shut.

“Are you full?” Marius asked kindly.

Unsure Jonny nodded, as if he wasn’t certain Marius would let him stop or get mad at him for wanting to stop. It made Marius sad to think about, so he shoved the thought away and smiled as he said: “Well, I’m proud you made it this far, well done. I’m glad to know you have at least some food in your system.”

Jonny visually brightened at Marius words and allowed a pleased smile to take over his features as he sagged back onto Tim.

It was nearing evening and all three knew that soon most of the others would come barging in expecting dinner, which had been Jonnys turn to provide and the reason Tim had bothered trying to wake him up in the first place.

“We should probably get him out of here so that all the commotion and shit won’t make him feel worse.” Ashes broached the subject.

“Yeah, a proper bed will help as well.” Tim agreed.

Marius rolled his eyes and said: “I’ll cook, just take care of him, alright?”

“Thank you, Marius.” the two grinned.

Tim easily swept Jonny up in his arms bridal carry, but Jonnys stomach didn’t agree with the sudden movement, so Ashes had to quickly grab the bin and hold it up to Jonnys mouth as he emptied his stomach of most of its contents once more.

Jonny made a pitiful sound as Tim softly apologized over and over again as he started walking, gently swaying Jonny a bit until he had calmed down.

“What’re you doin’?” he asked, squinting.

“We’re taking you to a proper bed, sweetheart, you need it to get better.” Ashes answered him from where they were walking next to Tim.

A look of fear flashed over Jonnys features and he timidly asked: “Are you going to leave me there?”

The vulnerability in his eyes stabbed Tim in his chest and he took a different turn than he had planned as he smiled: “Course not, Jonny. Your bed smell of sickness, so I’m taking you to mine and I’m going to make sure you don’t vomit in it.”

“I’m not gonna do that.” Jonny huffed, but the relief was clear on his face and it was kind of hard to look grumpy while he was literally being cradled in Tims arms.

“I know.” Tim said teasingly as he rolled his eyes.

Ashes didn’t comment on Tims softness to their First Mate, since he hadn’t said anything about the pet name and the caring of them either. It was a silent pact that they weren’t going to mention this ever again, teasing long since forgotten, and gauging Jonnys actions it was likely he wasn’t going to either.

They opened the door to Tims room and allowed him to pass them.

He gently put Jonny down, before tucking him in, he then took the bin to the bathroom where he emptied and rinsed it.

When he returned Jonny was barely clinging to consciousness, but he was fighting against the sleep as he clutched to Ashes hand.

Tim sat down next to him on the bed and told Ashes: “You can stay if you want, but you can also come relieve me in a while and save some food for me. We’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” they asked.

Getting conformation from both, they nodded: “Then I’ll check up on you after dinner and if he’s too annoying I won’t mind watching over him for tonight.”

Tim chuckled and Jonny pouted as Ashes left. They would return later to find the two fast asleep in each others arms with Jonnys head resting on Tims chest. They would laugh silently at them, before leaving again, promising themself to check up on them the next day.

In the morning Tim would pass Jonny over to Ashes, promising to come back with a smile and a ruffle of Jonnys hair.

It took a whole week for Jonny to recover and the news of him being sick traveled quickly through the crew, everyone had watched over him for at least a few hours, though Ashes, Marius and Tim were pretty protective over their time with Jonny and took the lion share.

As the week passed and Jonny got better, it became increasingly difficult to take care of him. He kept insisting that he wasn’t weak, which most found stupid, because he was literally sick and being sick or needing some care wasn’t weak.

However, it was pretty easy to convince him to accept their affection, even if they did have to fight for each piece of comfort given to him.

When he finally did feel better, he celebrated by making a big meal for everyone, happy that it wouldn't make him vomit anymore. Though most knew it was also his way of saying thank you, both for taking care of him and not mentioning it.

The crew accepted the meal gladly and kept their mouths shut about the whole thing, but Jonny did hug everyone a bit more, which was a good improvement.

Everyone needed some caring every now and again.

[leapyearkisses]

Director’s Cut Commentary - Orbs Are Bad News Part 2

Second part of me blathering my thoughts all over this old story per the request of a very nice anon! I am still sleep-deprived, so yay~ Sorry, this commentary is probably way less interesting, since this part is just the sexy stuff, but if you have any particular questions, please send me another ask!

Happy to do any of my stories or just answer asks, whatever. I clearly enjoy reading myself talk XD

Comments in bold below the cut! This part is NSFW. Well, it’s all kinky but there’s also sex.

I forgot to mention this in Part 1, but the title of this story is because the homebrew campaign I ran for my friends involved magical evil crystal orbs. Hence they are bad news.

"Are you ever going to stop sneezing?" Remembrance asked.  At the same time, Cordes said, "One thousand blessings, Llewellyn, one for each."  The two of them were several yards ahead on the road, and only Cordes was looking back over his shoulder.  Right now, the four party members were the only travelers on this particular stretch, although as they got closer to civilization, they'd started to pass the odd wanderer, farmers with wagons, even a merchant or two.  The woods here were broken up periodically by stretches of arable land, clear-cut several decades ago and now waving with wheat, flax, or various vegetable leaves.  The fields were golden in the late sun.  Their shadows stretched behind them like taffy, rippling on the cobblestones.  The day was vanishing quickly, and Gerrit could sense his companions' impatience to move on even as he stopped again himself, drawing out his handkerchief in a now very familiar motion.

 Stick your people in a world. That’s my advice. Don’t have them just floating around in a no man’s land of generic scenery. (Also why I like period/historical snzarios and fantasy stuff, because reading about plain people in an apartment somewhere is boring to me.)

Llewellyn, for his part, could not answer them, face buried in his elbow as he ducked with another reluctant outburst. "Hahktschiu!  Hahh- happtsch!"

"Bless," said Gerrit, and he stepped in front of the elf to shield him marginally from view.  He laid one warm hand on the back of Llewellyn's neck and lifted the handkerchief with the other, capturing the next sneeze in the flannel folds.  He settled his fingers firmly around Llewellyn's nose.

This was an arrangement that had been born out of necessity three days ago when the party had raided a bandit camp's plundered stores.  Along with a good stash of gold and gems, they'd found a blue crystal orb, cursed perhaps, that had summarily become attached to both of Llewellyn's hands, rendering the sorcerer unable to do most anything... including take care of his cold on his own.

 On the last episode of Orbs Are Bad News...

Llewellyn blew his nose into the handkerchief, wetting the cloth and dampening Gerrit's fingers through it.  Originally quite opposed to such a display outside of the most private circumstances, the elf had been forced to put his pride aside and let Gerrit help him.  His fever had abated the previous day, but the frequency of his sneezing had increased, as if his body was insistent now on ridding itself of whatever illness remained.  It was a horrific prospect to Llewellyn to catch the resulting mess every time in the sleeve of his robes... so he suffered Gerrit to hold the handkerchief, even though they were walking along the road where any might see them.

Despite some initial teasing, Remembrance and Cordes had quickly grown accustomed to the practice and now cared not at all, except to complain.  "We're going to have to camp again," grumbled Remembrance.  "Five miles from Veigh and we're going to be stuck without a bath!"

 Is five miles a realistic figure here? No fucking clue! I frequently engage in excessive and specific research for my stories, but I didn’t look up how long one might hike for in D&D. Oh well.

"Is there anything I could do for you?" Cordes asked, somewhat exasperated.  The priest had made several herbal concoctions for Llewellyn over the past few days, but none had helped the elf's nose much.  Cordes's specialty was unfortunately not the curing of disease but the mending of bones and flesh.

 I will take any opportunity to make up an excuse as to why the snz cannot be contained. You’re welcome lol

"Ndo," Llewellyn growled, as fed up as the rest of them.  "I'm beyond heh- help. Hngtschiu!"

"Bless you, arimelda," said Gerrit, trying to keep his voice even.  He shifted the handkerchief so that Llewellyn could have a drier spot, trying to ignore a glimpse of slickness on the elf's face.  "Remembrance, Cordes, why don't the two of you go on ahead?  Find an inn, get a room, take a bath, whatever you want.  It might be prudent also to send a message ahead to the Mages Guild about the orb.  Will you do that?  Llewellyn and I will join you when we arrive."

 An elvish word appears! I researched this but not walking.

Cordes nodded.  "Yes, I'll draft a letter as soon as- Hey!"  Remembrance had grabbed his arm and was rushing ahead already.

"Let's go, man!" she said.  "Everyone loves a damn priest; you're my ticket to a good room, so may your god help you if you dawdle."  Her pointed tail swished as she practically jogged down the road.  Cordes spluttered but could no more stand up to her as to a tornado, so off they went.  It was a remarkably short time before the two of them were out of earshot, disappearing around a bend.

 And again, removed so that the main characters can bang, lol.

Gerrit sighed but turned his attention back to Llewellyn, who was blowing his nose again.  The handkerchief was running out of clean corners this late in the day, but the elf leaned back this time when he was finished.  "All set?" Gerrit asked.

"Yes."  Llewellyn rubbed his eyes on his upper arm, wiping away a spare tear from the effort.  "...My apologies."  He cleared his throat, refusing to meet Gerrit's gaze.  "We may arrive after dark."

"You're ill," said Gerrit, trying to fold the flannel in a way as to avoid his pocket getting wet.  "We'd move faster if you let me carry y-"

"No."

"Then I don't mind taking a more leisurely pace."  Gerrit smiled.  Even after everything, Llewellyn was stubborn.  Honestly, since they weren't really in a rush, he didn't really care when they reached Veigh; they'd only detoured here to try and remove the orb.  If Llewellyn, the most inconvenienced, didn't want to give up his pride and piggyback on... well, Gerrit found his noble hauteur inexplicably cute.

 Me too, buddy. Don’t worry, you can carry your elf later.

He also wasn't in a particular hurry because it was awfully uncomfortable to make any sort of time with his arousal pressed flush to his thigh.

A reminder that sex is usually going to be involved in my stories. The snz is not enough by itself.

Llewellyn coughed into his elbow and then started walking again.  Gerrit had pulled back his hood for him in the morning and braided his hair, and the crown of plaits caught the afternoon sunlight like an obsidian.  Gerrit tried not to let his eyes linger on the sorcerer's pale nape.  Or any other part of him.  He and Llewellyn had been travelling together for close to three years, working for their current patron in the capital, and in that time Gerrit had felt himself growing closer to the elf.  Wanting to be closer, anyway.  

Llewellyn shot a glance at him and caught him looking.  Gerrit flushed and turned his gaze back ahead to the road.

"You've been very accommodating during all of this," the elf said, tone carefully neutral.

Gerrit shrugged.  "It doesn't bear mentioning.  We're comrades."

"Comrades," Llewellyn repeated, an edge to his voice that Gerrit couldn't quite place.  "Is that all it is?"  He kicked a stick that had fallen to the cobblestones, sending it into the brush. Somewhere to the right, bumblebees droned over a meadow.

 Llewellyn is kind of a asshole and not super great at communicating with any level of affection, although he does get better.

Gerrit swallowed.  "Yes?  You and I, we've helped each other before.  I consider you to be a steadfast companion."  Eyes on the road.  Eyes on the dappled play of shadowed leaves and light on the ground.  "Why do you ask?"

"So shy," Llewellyn exclaimed, a tad mockingly.  "You've never been shy about taking me to bed, Gerrit."  Despite his short height, the elf seemed to find it easy to look down his nose at the much taller fighter.  "Has something changed?"

 Height difference is also personally sacred to me.

"Changed?"  Eyes on the road.

Llewellyn stopped walking.  "You called me 'arimelda.'  'Dearest.'  Did you think I wouldn't hear you over my sneezing?"  He couldn't cross his arms with his hands trapped by the orb, but the set of his jaw was determined and his firm brows were arched.  "I wasn't so distracted then as you seem to have thought."

Gerrit shoved his hands in his pockets.  He stopped walking but didn't turn.  "Apparently not," he muttered.  "Look, we can set it aside.  Doesn't have to mean anything – doesn't have to change anything.  I know a highborn elf like you wouldn't consider an official relationship with a half-elven bastard, and I've known that from the start.  For my whole life.  So... I care about you.  But it can just be as comrades, or whatever you want it to be."  Llewellyn was quiet, and after a long minute, Gerrit did turn on his heel, desperate to know what kind of reaction he'd provoked.

 The angst of the half-elven existence! Gerrit is a very typical half-elf in terms of D&D characterization, lol. Despite that, I do find these different-lifestyle pairings interesting, so they keep happening, cliche or not. There is a definite pathos in the elf/human relationship because of the different lifespans, of course - most famously depicted through Arwen and Aragorn, probably, although he’s not the exactly typical human. Anyway, it kind of varies how people like to determine elven and half-elven lifespans in D&D depending on the PHB and your DM’s weary forbearance lol, but Gerrit and Llewellyn will expect to live similar lengths because I’m a sap.

He saw Llewellyn standing with his eyes closed and head titled back, lips parted.  The elf's nostrils flared as he gasped.

"Are you going to sneeze again??" Gerrit asked.  He threw up his hands, then went for his handkerchief once more.  They ­did have an arrangement.

He strode back over to Llewellyn's side and tucked the cloth around his nose again, thumb and forefinger just resting on the elf's nostrils.  He started to rub Llewellyn's back.  "You have the worst timing, you know?  Here I am, spilling my heart to you and everything."  

 I laughed writing this part, too. You can’t always let things just be angst.

"Sh-hhuh-t up, I jh- just nih-" Llewellyn gasped again and gave in; he had no other choice.  "Hahktscht!"  He moaned and pressed closer into the handkerchief, thick congestion only aggravating the itch that remained inside.  "Hkktschtt!  Hngtscht!  Hahh- ah-- ankcxttschiu!"

 That sure is a bunch of letters crammed together!

"Easy... it's okay."  Gerrit massaged Llewellyn’s nose, tried to soothe the irritation.  He guided Llewellyn to the side of the road, and, in a moment of calm, settled him to sit on the grassy bank.  He followed, kneeling at the elf's side.  Llewellyn was tearing up again and his nose was twitching against the pads of Gerrit's fingers.  Gerrit felt electric all over.  He found himself wishing the handkerchief was gone so that he might touch the soft, heated skin of Llewellyn's septum, coax the elf to relax and loose his tension, sneeze into Gerrit's palm.  The mess didn't bother him; none of it bothered him.  He was supremely unbothered.  His cock was almost painfully hard.

It took several more minutes punctuated with more urgent expulsions before Llewellyn seemed to trust himself to speak.  His eyes were wet with unshed tears, eyelids tender and reddened.  His nose was brightly ruddy, running to chapped.  He had to take a shaky breath, collecting his thoughts.  "Gerrit."

 I’m a very visual writer. This kink is extremely visually-based for me. I wish I could draw as well as I want to so I could depict these scenes how I imagine them, but eh.

"Yes?"  Gerrit lowered the handkerchief, gently pinching as he did to clear any lingering moisture.  He wasn't ready to hear a rejection, nor did he feel particularly ready for a lecture or a tirade or even a logical exploration of why a relationship was a bad idea.  He wanted, if possible, to keep walking to Veigh, side by side, listening to the bees and dragonflies and songbirds settling in for the evening, feeling the light breeze on his face, replete with the scents of summer.  

"Kiss me."

Gerrit blinked, mental caravan bunching to a halt.  "What?"

 i am so funny omg

Llewellyn nudged him in the chest with the orb.  "Kiss me.  You're all worked up."  He cleared his throat.  "And judging by the state of you, you're not put off by my cold.  So?"  He tilted his head to the side, gently, closed his eyes.  "I want you to kiss me."

 An example of the B character not really forcing the admitting of the fetish but just kind of not caring. That is also okay, and I think it’s normal. People don’t just admit to all their kinks immediately upon entering a relationship.

Baffled, but feeling as though maybe all was not lost, Gerrit obliged, pressing their lips together.  His own eyes slid closed and he cupped Llewellyn's cheek, deepening the kiss, touching their tongues together, trying to convey how he felt.  Whatever had changed.  The kiss lasted for too short a time; Llewellyn broke away to breathe, eyes half-lidded, but he didn't lean away.

 I’ve never kissed anyone, but I consume media. I feel like I am pretty good at depicting things regardless of experience.

"I'm not going to dismiss you out of hand," he said.  "You or your feelings.  But I would ask for some time to think."  He looked up through his lashes.  "Are you feeling better?"

 Another thing I like in romance, even in kink short stories like this, is a more realistic portrayal of the confession than just “It was obviously meant to be~”

Gerrit could feel his pulse in every extremity.  "Not really," he managed, and he kissed Llewellyn again, this time sliding one hand under the elf's head and one at his hip and pressing him back to lay in the grass.  He moaned in his throat as Llewellyn kissed back, and when they had to break for breath, he started to kiss at Llewellyn's forehead, jaw, throat, wherever he could touch skin.  His hands roamed over the elf's body, smoothing over hip and thigh and belly until he could start to undo the buttons on Llewellyn's close-cut robes.

"Gerrit," gasped Llewellyn.  He moved the orb between them, jamming it into Gerrit's sternum.  "You are not going to sleep with me on the side of the damn road!  Get ahold of yourself!"

 He has standards!

Gerrit growled at the quick pain in his chest, then shook his head and leaned back.  He flushed deeply and pulled his hands away.  "Oh.  Oh, fuck, sorry.  I-"

"Pick me up."  Llewellyn lifted his arms.

"What??"  Gerrit's brain was having a hard time keeping up at the moment, all of his blood being elsewhere.

"There was a thicker copse of trees back about thirty feet, on the left."  Llewellyn waved the orb at him.  "Pick me up.  We can lay down there."

 His standards are NOT that high! But he does have them!

So.  So Gerrit ducked his head into the circle of Llewellyn’s arms and picked him up, holding him securely and setting off down the road again, back the way they’d come.  The elf was right; there, about twenty feet back from the bank, was a thick copse of pines, all grown together with wild geranium and maidenhead ferns.  Gerrit pushed through, shoulder first.  Despite its proximity to the thoroughfare, the inside of the stand was quiet and shielded completely from view.  This would do nicely.

 Told you you’d get to carry him soon.

He set Llewellyn back on his feet and made short work of undressing him, first freeing the sorcerer from his pouches and bags, then undoing the silver buttons on his robe from his collarbone to his crotch.  The rich fabric fell open appealingly.  Next, Gerrit freed the elf from his boots and leggings.  A long white shirt, woven from the finest of elven angora, still covered him, but Gerrit pushed the fabric up over Llewellyn’s belly, leaning in to kiss the elf again and touching him intimately.

Llewellyn moaned and nudged Gerrit’s hip with the orb.  “Now you,” he said.  “I want to see your body.”

Gerrit complied, making quick time shedding his cloak, pack, leather armor, breeches, boots.  Two daggers, two short swords, caltrops, a bow and quiver, a glaive, and a spiked whip followed.  He pushed them to the side as Llewellyn rolled his eyes.

This is another funny trope lol, like when a hero or assassin or someone has to go through airport security and the metal detector keeps beeping because they’re carrying 18 knives on their person. Fighters are proficient in every weapon, so why not have one of everything?

"You can't possibly have a use for all of those," the elf said, and then Gerrit captured his mouth again.

He laid Llewellyn down on the soft carpet of pine needles, using his cloak to cover the ground and double as a makeshift pillow.  The elf was beautiful in the shifting shade, skin flawless.  He had the orb resting on his chest and it glowed intermittently in the inconstant sunlight.  The gold chain netting that encapsulated both the orb and Llewellyn's fine-boned hands glimmered.  "You know," said Gerrit, smoothing a hand down Llewellyn's bare thigh.  "You'd look pretty good bound up in gold chain."

"This isn't enough for you?"  He scoffed.

Gerrit laughed.  "It would be fun to tease you.  I love it when you fuss at me.  So cute."  He dodged Llewellyn's elbow and settled down on his stomach, hooked one of Llewellyn's legs over his shoulder, and nuzzled the base of the elf's cock.  "Ready, arimelda?"  His own cock was under him, pressed to his stomach in the confines of his shirt.  He could feel his pulse in the head of it, quickening with the scent of his lover.

"Yes, you prick," sighed the elf, and he moaned when Gerrit started to kiss him and lave his skin.  His fingers flexed on the orb, longing to wind into Gerrit's hair.

 Licking is kind of thing, and I love writing about fellatio so. Yay~

Gerrit took Llewellyn into his mouth eagerly, fingers curled over the elf's thighs, fingertips pressing at the sensitive inner surface as he sucked and teased and swallowed.  Like this, he could focus on Llewellyn's pleasure.  The noises the usually stoic and prideful sorcerer was making were enough to make Gerrit moan, mouth full, and rock his hips.  Nothing pleased Gerrit more than seeing Llewellyn undone, seeing the elf flushed and open and undone for him.  And he shivered, all over, when he heard the elf's breath catch and his tone go wavery.  He thought he could come from this, listening to Llewellyn sneeze while pleasuring him implacably with a heated, well-placed tongue.

 This is also VERY IMPORTANT. Caretaking to the point of like, partner worship idk. It’s good!!

"Aa, aa, ahh- ih- Gerrit, I-" Llewellyn drew his knee up, curling, heel drawing along Gerrit's back.  "I nih- need to snih- hh-"

Gerrit drew his head back, let Llewellyn's cock free for a moment.  He didn't loosen his grip on the elf's legs, though, wound up and desirous.  "Okay by me, melda, it's okay.  Feel all right?  Want me to stop?"  He was breathless himself, had to force the words past the distraction of his arousal, but he would abide.

 Consent is the sexiest thing.

"No, don't stop," Llewellyn groaned, then turned his head to the side.  "Hpptscht!  Hah- Haktschiu!"

"Bless, bless."  Gerrit kissed Llewellyn's thigh tenderly, then nipped it, drew his tongue over the hurt, sucked a bruise to mark its place.  He swallowed Llewellyn down again as the elf cried out in pleasure and then bent with another helpless burst.  Gerrit wondered if he could make Llewellyn come simultaneously with a sneeze and what that might feel like.  The fantasy set him alight.  His abdomen was tight, his cock like a brand on his stomach. He redoubled his efforts.

Gerrit felt it first, when Llewellyn came, in the tightening of the elf's thighs and stomach, then tasted the salt of his release.  His world narrowed down to taking it in, swallowing, milking with his mouth while Llewellyn cried out, going until the elf was pushing him away, keening, oversensitive.  He didn't wait to lift Llewellyn then into his lap, cradling him with one arm and stroking himself with the other hand, desperate to come as well.  Llewellyn pressed his face to the junction of Gerrit's neck and shoulder, tightly gripping the cloth of Gerrit's shirt as they rocked together.  The elf's nose was gently wet and he was panting, sniffling.  Gerrit came with a shout, holding him close, shaking with an overabundance of pleasure.  He let go of his cock and embraced Llewellyn fully.  He had enough presence of mind not to confess to anything, but he couldn't stop himself from murmuring how beautiful, how soft.

 okay. o__o There’s only so much I can say about writing the porn lol. I write what I want to read.

Gradually the world came back.  Birdsong, first, and the bees, the sounds of the trees swaying in the light breeze.  The lingering heat of the day, dampened by the shade and the growing dusk.  The musty smell of pine needles and the sharper hint of sap, the scents of sex, the pressure of Llewellyn astride his lap, the bite of uneven ground against his knees.  Llewellyn was touching his cheek, trying to say something sweet, failing because of his cold again.

 I tried to write this part so that it would not be immediately obvious to the reader, as it is not to the characters, that the orb is gone.

"Ah- hh- Ttschgktst!"

Wetness against his neck.  Gerrit wound his fingers with Llewellyn's and kissed his jaw.  "Bless you," he said.  "I'll find you a healer in Veigh.  We'll get you well again.  Right after we free you from the orb."  He laid his cheek against the back of Llewellyn's hand tenderly.  Then he paused. "Wait."  Straightening, he brought his hands between them.  The right was laced with Llewellyn's left.  "The orb is gone."

Llewellyn straightened also, looking down at his hands.  His hands with no orb.  He lifted them both, amazed.  And then wiped his nose on his wrist, sighing in pleasure.  Gerrit tried not to blush despite everything.

 Me too, buddy.

"Where did it go?" he asked, looking past the elf's shoulder.  "Why did it come off?"

"Who even cares at this point??"  Llewellyn had let go of him and was stretching, running his palms over his body, touching his own arms and face and cock, finally able to move and feel again after three days of magical bondage.  He wiggled his fingers and then clapped his palms together, raising a small flame with their parting.  "I have my freedom back.  I can cast spells again.  I can-" He smiled brilliantly.  "I can touch you, too."  He dropped his hands suddenly to Gerrit's lap, nimbly taking Gerrit's cock between them.

Gerrit lost track of the orb immediately.

 Me too, buddy.

---

It was dark indeed when the two of them made it to the inn in Veigh, but both were in high spirits.  Gerrit had relinquished handkerchief duty back to Llewellyn with a great internal mourning, but he could always fantasize about this again in the future (he did, frequently), and he knew that Llewellyn, despite his best efforts, would catch more colds on the road (he did, more frequently than he would like).

I would love to play a fetish-friendly D&D campaign, but it would be way too embarrassing, probably. My current PC has allergies, but I have never mentioned them in-game and probably never will lol. God help me if my DM ever remembers that I wrote them into my character sheet.

Remembrance and Cordes had only been able to secure one room, it seemed, with two beds.  Gerrit resigned himself, going up the stairs, to sleeping on the floor. But... it was apparent upon entering the small space that... well, their priest and thief had ended up taking up only one of the beds, together.  Gerrit and Llewellyn traded glances.

"I don't think I want to ask," said Llewellyn, going for the free bed.

"Sounds like a plan to me," Gerrit replied, joining him.

The untold story, lol

In the morning, Cordes, with great dignity sprung from embarrassment (the cause of which he did not volunteer) informed them that a letter had not been sent to the Mages Guild yet.  He was immensely relieved to find that one was no longer needed and quick to congratulate Llewellyn on his newly regained freedom.  Remembrance just chuckled from the bed and took her time buckling her armor back on.  

Already in Veigh, the party spent some time stocking up on medicines and liquefying some of the heavier treasures they'd liberated from the bandit camp.  Gerrit sent a message on to their patron to expect them back in the capital in a couple of weeks, barring disaster.  They purchased horses and set out, ready for the next adventure.

---

The orb lay still in the pine thicket, nestled like an egg among the ferns, waiting for the next hapless traveler. 

 Faust’s Orb of Rope Bondage. Make a Will saving throw [DC 15] upon touching the orb with any body part, wearing clothes or not. Upon a failure, the orb will find its way to adhere to the hand of the hapless adventurer. If both hands touch the orb, they will both be stuck. If two people fail the save, one of each of their hands will be stuck. The spell can be broken only if each attached party has an orgasm.

I GUESS

[theinvisibledreamergirl]

Chap. 1: “The Beginning of Everything”

————————————

3 years ago: 14th of September 2017

“Happy birthday to you!

Happy birthday to you!

Happy birthday to my gem!

Happy birthday to you!”

His soft and playful voice made her giggle when he did an impression of a birthday wish because she knew that he hated to say it out loud.

“Thank you Mr. Standall.” She kissed his lips slowly not letting a yawn to break this blissful moment. “And that was a very good impression on how boyfriends want to make surprises to their girls.” She giggled while tracing with her right palm his grown beard that made her weak whenever it scratched.

“And I’m glad that made you smile.” He gave her a peck on her forehead while smiling aback.

“You always make me happy like no one else.”She said it in full acknowledgment and wrapped her arms around his neck, giving that sympathetic look that Alex knew too well. Whenever those words fell from her lips, he knew that she would get teary so he tried to lighten up the mood.

“Whoa Miss Craig, we haven’t still arrived to the part of being emotional.” He cupped her cheeks in full adoration. “And I haven’t brought your breakfast here yet so…” He got up from their bed while she was admiring at his sculpted body only in his underwear and was catching her lower lip thinking how handsome he was. He wore his shorts while doing another mimic of her while biting her lip knowing she had a soft spot. “Oh Al you’re so fucking handsome ma-”

Before he would finish the sentence, was met with a pillow on his face and a stern voice. “Get my breakfast here ‘cause I don’t want to die hungry.”

“Your wish is my command, my lady.” He chuckled before bowed down while she was laughing at his poor attempt to be look like a 18th century gentleman but she didn’t care that much. Because her heart was so full and couldn’t be more thankful that he was by her side.

Present day: 14th of September 2020

She woke up from the irritating alarm of her iPhone while groaning loudly. She felt her body sweating on her sheets and knew that the dreams were still appearing in the middle of the night and were not giving her the peace she wanted. She had only been one week in Boston and was hating this city already. Crowded, disorganised, dirty and was nothing compared with Brighton or Washington. Even the great buildings that surrounded didn’t give her a slight awesomeness and rolled her eyes while some tourists were looking wonderfully and snapping selfies. It was 5 AM. She had a bad habit to wake up early in order to work out outside in the nature. Or better saying- somewhere far away from the flowers or trees that gave her allergies even though it was the fall season. But first she needed to change quickly her wet clothes before getting a cold. When she got up from her bed, was met with a wiggling tail and a huffing sound of her best friend- Jonah.

“Hey good morning buddy!” She kneeled down to him while he was licking her hands. “Yup we’re going outside but first mama needs a shower okay?” She kissed his head when he jumped on her bed waiting impatiently for his owner to finish.

She stripped off her clothes and didn’t want to give a spare glance to the scars in her forearms if she didn’t want to experience another breakdown. The warm temperature of the water cascading down her body was everything she needed and let out a content sigh. She mocked at her anti-grease shampoo for keeping her hair done only in two days.

“Bloody shampoos.”

She carefully rubbed the cores of her forearms with her sponge not letting to fall a single drop of blood while wincing. It was such annoying to wait for another year until they were regenerated completely and if not, she needed to undergo a plastic surgery in which she was worried about it.

This day was slightly different from what she’d been used to. It was her first day of work at a hospital after graduating with excellent grades from University College London and got an alumni award for her outstanding performance in saving five people’s lives (including her professor Dr. Sarah Bennett) doing solo operations without the practice and the leadership of an attending. And that’s why she chose Edenbrook Hospital but- with a bit lateness.

It was only three days ago that she got the acceptance e-mail from nonetheless the well known and the most respected diagnostician in the whole country Dr. Naveen Banerji. The reason was that she spent her summer holidays in Italy and wasn’t sure if she was ready to go back in USA almost four years after her parents died. But mostly she still was on search for the truth behind her grandmother’s unexpected death- Daisy Ahmad. A quest in which she hadn’t solved the mystery behind of it.

While putting on her Nike sneakers she took a brief look at the clock on the wall- 5:15 AM. She still had time until 7 AM to catch up for work so she whistled to the husky dog letting him know that they were ready to go- or not until she straightened up her back and raised her eyebrows while looking at the mirror.

“Mirror mirror on the wall, tell me... who’s the most badass woman here?” She chuckled at her poor joke. “Of course it’s me. Right Jonah?” He barked in approval tilting his head, showing his blue sky eyes to his owner’s. “That’s my boy.”

The hangout consisted of walking firstly, because Jonah always came the first into their priorities and sometimes she would call him the King Jonah I and if he would have children she’ll gladly call them Jonah II or JJ. Secondly, it was playing with him and doing some exercises to train him with what she had read in a recent book about huskies. Lastly, it was time for her to put her headphones on and listening to the great Arctic Monkeys band while running for an hour without breaks to the asphalt coastline. And Jonah was more than happy to follow his owner wherever she went.

Annoyed, after finishing her run, she totally forgot that she took a shower already but thankfully her hair was tied up in a ponytail so her tendrils weren’t at least wet. “We got sweaty again buddy huh?”

6:37 AM.

They finally made it back at her apartment and greeted the receptionist Billy for taking the morning shift. She kicked off her sneakers and went immediately to the bathroom to change again her sportswear and quickly finished her body shower. The breakfast consisted of baked bread, white cheese and fiches jam whereas for the husky dog were the raw meats and bones. While she was waiting for the slices of bread to be toasted, her eyes landed to his photograph placed in a black rectangular frame.

“Why Alex?” She whispered to herself and crossed her arms while tilting her head in one side. “Why are you still appearing in my dreams every night? What do you want to tell me?”

It became a monotonous thing for her to see the nightmares of the people who were gone now and the worse part was that they would always appear with unknown causes. Like her parents for example, died not because of a coincidental car accident- but a well-planned one- and after their case was solved, they didn’t appear anymore. She knew that her grandmother’s death was truly a devastating event for her and of course she needed to find the surgeon who took the responsibility to operate her. But what about Alex? She had no clue why this was happening but one thing was for sure... her PTSD wouldn’t stop if she didn’t find out the last parts to complete the puzzle.

After finishing her breakfast she wore her casual clothes despite her efforts in wearing a suit. She was so obsessed with them. Maybe if she becomes a resident... who knows what fate will bring for her? She shook her head in disbelief- she was going to work with Ethan Ramsey and was excited but stressed in the same time.

“My oh my... am I going to work now huh? What do you think buddy?”Jonah twirled around in excitement when his owner opened her arms to reveal the outfit. “You always have liked my style, haven’t you? Can you believe that I’m going to work with the attending who inspired me to be this doctor I am now? Nope, I can’t believe it too.” She chuckled wearily as her memories with Alex came back on her mind. How both of them were determined to be doctors and to be graduated in the same year, then going to their respective inspirational doctors who, for instance, both were in the same hospital- Dr. Ethan Ramsey and Dr. Simon Tennant.

“Y’know Jonah, I was thinking about how this Ethan Ramsey looks like because his face doesn’t appear anywhere. Like I’ve searched for him in any websites possible but no- he’s like an invisible man who has sealed every images of him. Even Simon doesn’t want to tell me and said that I would see him soon. What the hell? I mean can you imagine working with an old man and a grumpy one or who knows... maybe he’s a good one? He can’t be like those snarky and annoying attendees that have always appeared in the TV shows, right?” She twitched her lips in confusion and shrugged. “Whatever. Just wish me good luck.”

She grabbed his collar in the direction of the door but before that she glanced up to the photograph again. A hard lump was formed on her throat re-imagining the scene in which they could leave together but instead... she was going alone. A small and a sad smile tugged on her lips as if he was there too, smiling widely at her and wishing ‘good luck’ and giving a blow kiss while saying ‘I love you’.

Unfortunately the blue-eyed husky was cooing sadly after the owner left him to her neighbour Lola and her husband Mike and he really needed to fit into the new adjustment of lifestyle.

Klaw wanted so badly to drive her car to the hospital because she knew now all the streets of Boston but changed her mind in the last minute to go the metro line that wasn’t far away from her neighbourhood and it took at least 20 minutes. While she was seating in front of the window she opened her messages that popped up on her phone and she frowned in suspicion for who might’ve been. Then she chuckled softly. It was nonetheless than her friends.

Klaw scoffed.

Of course Imy would bring up those numbers as a reminder.

14.09.1995- her 25th birthday.

But she had already discussed with them to not wish her and to not make any presents despite Imy’s insistence to try to forget what happened two years ago that had wrapped their minds for a long time. But there wasn’t enough for forgetting and she still wasn’t ready to move on to another point of her life. She was afraid that if she believed in love again- she would lose it. Just like with Clay and Alex she didn’t want to experience another heartbreak or another trauma.

The great building of Edenbrook Hospital in the heart of Boston Massachusetts appeared in front of her now, where her life wouldn’t be the same again. She felt her quickened heartbeats and her tightened chest by the view and still couldn’t believe she was now a doctor. She shook her head in disbelief again while chuckling.

Well well Dr. Craig, seems like the beginning of everything to you, isn’t it? Just don’t try to kill anyone today. Keep your punches off to yourself.

Everyone were hurrying up and looked they were all in a moment of a rush. She took long stride steps while ogling to the new settlement which later she would call it home. Klaw could hear the urgency of nurses while taking IV’s with themselves to the patients, two doctors wheeling their patients who seemed to have done a transplant operation before, the receptionists talking to the phones and writing the names of those who wanted to leave a meeting with their doctors. Even though this gave her a lightened moment to truly appreciate, she felt lost and didn’t know where to go so she tilted her head to the sides almost panicking.

Is this how all of the interns have been before?

“Are you new here?”

A guy in violet scrubs asked her gently behind her back so she turned around only to see him smile.

“Uhm, yeah I am.”

“That’s pretty good! Are you our new nurse from Delaware?”

She chuckled. “No, actually I’m a surgical intern from London.”

“Oh, sorry.” He said sheepishly. “I’ve been asking all the new female faces here and all of them turned to be interns because we were waiting for a new internal nurse but seems like she’s vanished.” They both shared a laugh. “By the way my name’s Danny Cardinal.”

They shook their hands while nodding. “And I’m Klaudia Craig but please call me Klaw instead ‘cause there’s a loooong story about that.”

“Klaudia Craig... just give me a second to check the list.” Danny run his index finger while murmuring her name until he flipped the other page and her name was the last. “Ha! I found you... Klaudia Helena Craig, the tick is in the box. If I’m right you’re the last doctor who has applied here?”

“Uhm, yeah.” She let out a nervous laugh and scratched the back of her neck. “I actually wasn’t sure about this place to apply but- here I am.”

“Well because of Dr. Delarosa’s absence for the moment I’ll do you a quick guide.”

Danny was such a nice guy and now the first friend Klaw made in this hospital. She could see his cheeks flushed sometimes when he made eye contact with her and later he admitted that this year strangely all the new interns were so attractive. With her back-bag in one shoulder she entered the closet room to change her clothes to green scrubs until she saw a woman in her underwear. Embarrassed that she may be interrupting her, made a quick motion of closing her eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sorry I’m truly sorry!” She waved her hand awkwardly and she thought that was such clueless move.

“It’s alright you can open your eyes.” Her accent let Klaw know that she could be somewhere from India. When she opened her eyes- damn it. Danny wasn’t lying that everyone were attractive. She was the greatest example of a hot woman. “And please don’t you know that this is a closet room or what?” She scoffed. “Are you shy?”

Klaw scoffed aback when her last words teased her. “No, but I don’t think I can invade someone’s privacy and that’s disrespectful y’know... maybe you were doing other things rather than changing clothes.”

“Alexa play “The Final Countdown” by Europe for Jackie Varma getting her butt roasted!” Klaw flinched when a half-naked guy barked in laughter. “I’m feeling sorry for you now Jackson.”

“Shut up Lahela!”

“So my prediction was right.” Klaw nodded slowly in acknowledgement thanks to her observation skills, she could see Jackie’s messed hair despite her efforts to put a proper bun whereas the guy named Lahela had a small glitter on the corner of his lips. And she couldn’t feel any prouder.

“You got a smart mouth sweetie don’t you?” Jackie challenged her by inching dangerously close, their faces mere inches apart. Klaw smirked knowingly and slowly lowered her head.

“I do and you should actually be afraid of me, darling.”

Jackie was caught off guard despite her efforts of staying neutral. This girl was so gorgeous and such a smart ass, she thought. She was wondering how her full lips would fit into hers and how her body would arch in the wall while doing to her the most nasty things. And when she got that look- god she thought- she looked even more sexy.

Stop it Jackie.

“I like this girl, she’s just my type.” Lahela added. “Can we please have a threesome?”

“Bryce!” Jackie shouted angrily. “That’s enough!”

So his name is Bryce.

Klaw felt her jaw tightening even though she knew that he was just messing with them. “Only in your dreams big boy.”

“Ouch you are hurting my feelings right now. Look, no one can resist my handsome face... and not even you pretty.”

“I’ll show you pretty when you’ll see yourself with your broken bones.” Klaw smiled wickedly.

“Who’s roasted now huh?”Jackie laughed while Bryce was left mouth gaped from this statement. He didn’t think that someone as beautiful as this girl could reject him in one click. She wouldn’t do that, right? Bryce Lahela had never been refused by any of the girls he encountered with- not even from boys who had tried to have an affair with him. This is was the first defeat he got slapped by and it looked like this first day was going to be a hell. But when he looked deeply in the dark and fiery brown eyes of that lady, he had hopes that she wasn’t a bad person. Maybe she was trying to shove him off or who knew... maybe it was a game plan and for that, he wanted to know more of her.

Be careful Bry. ‘Cause this girl is going to be harder than it looks like. What is she doing to me?

“Whilst I appreciate your words Varma I think we should let this girl present herself, right?”

“This time I agree with you.” Jackie was well aware of his changing of subject and in a brief moment she saw the hot guy going pale and silently thought that he had fallen for her. Yuck.

Klaw smiled. “Okay people I’m Dr. Klaudia Craig, a surgical intern with one condition- only if you call me Klaw.”

“Another scalpel jockey here?” Jackie let out her tongue in disgust. “Ewww.”

“Hell yeahhh.” Klaw rolled her eyes while Bryce was offering his hand to shake hers. “Dr. Bryce Lahela graduated at the top of the class 2020 from Harvard University and selected as the best face from all the nerds around the campus with one condition-” he kissed the back of her hand before winking “-be mine already.”

“As tempting as it may be Dr. Lahela I’m afraid I’m not the first one in your flirting list hm?”

Two can play that game, right? Bryce’s cheeks turned to a light pink as if he felt- embarrassed? Why did this girl make him feel like that? What was her real intention? One thing was for sure- she was different and mysterious. Before he could reply Jackie cut him off.

“Shit! Time is ticking! We must go immediately, the whole atrium is expecting us!”

“Who?” Klaw asked confused and with that expression made Jackie eyeing her incredulously.

“Do you live on earth or what? The doctors, our attendees, our bosses!” Klaw nodded slowly in acknowledgment since she was right. She lived in Moon. “Hurry up, we need to change!”

All of the interns were gathered as they were waiting for the attendees to come at any minute. Lots of unknown faces were about to work together in this place and lots of things were going to change forever their lives. Daniel Griffin appeared among them giving Klaw a small smile but also a relieved one. He still was worried with the yesterday’s incidence where she fought with some random street girls and almost she was caught by the police. He couldn’t ask her if she was okay because she wouldn’t tell him anyway so the only thing that caught his attention was that she was coming with other two strange guys. Not long after that his girlfriend Imy joined them and greeted with a warm smile that always crossed on her face which was why Dan fell in love with her. Again Jackie was disappointed that they were other scalpel jockeys and couldn’t wait to meet colleagues on her profile. The attendees were coming towards them with an assurance and a determination that Klaw felt a shiver on her spine. She spotted her brother (her guardian angel) Simon beside a woman who seemed to be a very important person in the hospital alongside with four other doctors whom Klaw tried to guess if one of them was Ethan Ramsey with the exception of the curly woman.

Or tried to guess- who was the surgeon she was looking after all these years?

“May I have your attention please?” The curly woman spoke up, trying her best to keep her calmness while everyone were speaking aloud until another grunting voice made them startled and turn their heads to them.

“Will you shut your fucking mouths and listen now?!”

Silence.

A genuine and a grateful smile came from the woman mouthing to the man her ‘thank you’ and he nodded in acknowledgement.

“Welcome to Edenbrook Hospital everyone! You have come a long way to be in this place and you have to always remind the Hippocrates  Oath: ‘Do no harm’ which is going to be the first thing that comes to your minds. My name is Dr. Ines Delarosa and by my side is Dr. Zaid Mirani, your senior residents who will guide you in every step of the way.”

“Do not consider this as a favour because if you do, then you have to forget your big sacrifices to come here.”

When Zaid almost chewed them with his sentence, Ines tried to lighten up the mood. “But also we’re not the only doctors here- please welcome our surgeons Dr. Harper Emery, Dr. Simon Tennant and Dr. Edgar Allen!”

The speech was started by Harper who stood between the males giving her the authority that she deserved as she looked intensely to every intern.

“Thank you Dr. Delarosa. Again welcome to the most prestigious and the most competitive hospital in our country! I hope all of you have been prepared for this day and for more to come. I’m delighted to work as a neurosurgeon to help and to teach you how important is and what it means to be a surgeon. Mostly about our surgical interns- you will be tasked with a lot of cases from the easiest ones to the most complicated ones. And you have to remind yourselves that you must not neglect any patient because they are all equal and they need the same treatments. I think the doctors would agree-” her eyes flicked immediately to Simon’s, ignoring Edgar’s purposely. “- right?”

“Yes Dr. Emery especially after this looong speech everyone here is more motivated, right?” He mocked playfully while Harper was rolling her eyes.

You'll never change Simon.

“Hi! I’m Dr. Tennant as Dr. Delarosa previously mentioned and I’m a cardio thoracic surgeon, currently the chief of Cardiology Department. Which means that if you notice your heart quickening its heartbeats or if you notice that is breaking into two halves- feel free to swing by my office or in the O.R to fix it.” A laughter was heard among the interns who seemed to be more relaxed and many whispers said that he was going to be their God’s sent angel- which clearly he was. “Jokes aside- this year was the most difficult time to choose the ones you are here because of competitiveness and the strong knowledge you came from your universities, ranked at the top of your classes. What I want to say is- nothing is impossible. Everything can be achieved with work and passion for medicine if you feel it here.” He patted his chest lightly. “But if not-” he shook his head even though his smile didn’t disappear. “- then you weren’t ready for these days.”

A knowing look crossed Klaw’s face; she knew where his limits were when it came to being professional especially in medicine. He wouldn’t tolerate anyone who made unacceptable mistakes and everyone would see his worst side and wonder how this man could change so quickly- something that she was used to.

“Alright.” Harper was nodding and giving an eye to everyone and turned her gaze to the older man. “Do you want to add something Dr. Banerji?”

That’s when Ines realised that she had totally forgotten to mention Dr. Banerji’s name because of Zaid’s distraction.

So he’s Dr. Naveen Banerji- the person who accepted my application.

“Yes, thank you Harper. Well, hello everybody, for all of those who don’t know me yet- I’m Dr. Naveen Banerji the Chief of Medicine, but my real job is general surgeon which I’m very good at it rather than being a chief.” He chuckled and Klaw thought this man was truly like a father to all the interns. “I’m very happy that we have chosen the best students for our non-profit hospital and especially those who’ve already done a big difference during medical school.” Klaw didn’t notice it as Bryce whispered in her ear but Naveen gave her a briefing look before he continued what he was saying. “I hope everyone will get themselves accommodated, making new relationships uh-I meant strictly professional and friendly partnerships.” Everyone shared a laugh. “What I want to say is- if you want to be successful to your job you must at first be humans. If you want to understand the patients you must understand yourselves. And finally as Dr. Ramsey would say you should observe everyone.” Again it was heard a big laughter as he did an impression on him. “Anyways, you will have the chance to know him, now I must go back to work as you should do the same. Have a nice day doctors! We’re expecting the best from you.”

“Thank you Dr. Banerji!” When Naveen and Harper left another attending came in front of the other doctors- Dr. Edgar Allen.

“So, I think now that we have done our pleasantries, I’d like to call the surgical interns names to assign their cases whereas you internal medicine will be assigned under Dr. Delarosa’s and Dr. Mirani’s. Understood?”Everyone nodded and from the looks of it he was the harshest doctor they have encountered by far, leaving Zaid out of the black list.

“I despise this man so much.” Zaid grumbled under his breath enough for Ines to hear it.

“Don’t worry Zaid.” She assured him again with that infectious smile which made him less angry than he was. “He’s always like that. We can’t change someone’s personality hm?” He nodded in agreement.

Before calling the names Simon came closer to Edgar clearly not liking the way he was prodding.

“Shouldn’t you be less grumpy among them? It’s their first day and they don’t deserve this kind of treatment.”

“Hmph. Or what else is going to happen Dr. Tennant? I’m really curious about it ‘cause right now I’m shaking from your concern for such minions.”

Simon felt his narrowed eyes dagger in Edgar’s saying in a hushed tone. “Watch your language Dr. Allen and may I remind you where did your internship start huh?”

“Mass Kenmore.”

“Exactly. So if it wasn’t for Dr. Thorne’s insistence because you saved his life- your ass wouldn’t even reach in this position without him.” Edgar clenched his teeth in frustration knowing fully well that everything what Simon was saying was true. “Now you can continue doctor.”

With that Simon trailed off without sparing a glance to the worried look of interns noticing their little exchange not knowing what was said between them.

Klaw kept wondering where actually Dr. Ethan Ramsey was as he didn’t show up and was nowhere to be seen until Ines answered the same question raised by another intern who seemed to be just as curious as her.

“About Dr. Ramsey, we’re expecting him to come today from the Miami’s conference, so you don’t have to worry- you’ll meet him soon.” She assured the shy blonde guy who seemed to be more relieved now.

But still Klaw had gears on her mind about it if Dr. Ramsey would be present.

And how do we say it?

Some things happen in the most unexpected ways.

———————————————————————

Chapter 2: “First Impressions”

[bigskydreaming]

Imagine:

The Batfamily is all assembled in the Batcave working on some case, when Alfred intercoms them from up in the Manor. He says there’s a man on the phone for Master Dick, with it being a matter of some urgency. Bruce starts to ask if he’s established whether its an actual emergency or something he can take a message on, but Alfred continues...

Alfred: Err, the individual in question ensured I was aware he knew Master Dick was on the premises and available to take his call...even if I did need to patch him through to our....downstairs line, as he termed it.

Bruce: Our downstairs line? He phrased it exactly like that?

Alfred: I’m afraid so, sir. He was circumspect, no doubt in deference to our....privacy in such regards, but there was little margin for misinterpretation as to his meaning. This may come as some surprise, but I have considerable practice in the art of reading between the lines, and like to imagine myself somewhat of an expert at the craft.

Bruce: *sighs* Patch him through, Alfred. Did he give a name?

Alfred: Very good, sir. And yes, he did say Master Dick refers to him as Boone.

All eyes swivel to Dick, as Alfred transfers the call to the Batcave’s ultra encrypted top secret super hush hush line. Dick pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.

Dick: If I get an ulcer from the next five minutes, I’m absolutely naming it after him.

Bruce: You don’t seem surprised this person has knowledge of our identities. Why wasn’t I informed of this individual, as a potential threat of exposure?

Dick: Umm, it didn’t seem relevant?

Bruce: ....what.

Dick *shrugs*: I mean, to be honest, I mostly forgot. He’s known forever, and its not likely to ever be an issue for the same reason he’s never done anything with the knowledge before now. He’d never give our identities to someone who could potentially compromise us or harm us, because that risks someone other than him killing me before he can say he’s beaten me and proven himself better than me once and for all, and that like. Pretty much would defeat the whole point for him.

Bruce: ....I’m almost afraid to follow your logic.

Jason: I’m so happy right now.

Dick: If it helps, he’s known since like, I was eleven. So I mean, I do feel pretty confident if it was going to be an issue, he’d have made it one way before now. Hence why I....kinda just forgot. I mean, I didn’t really forget, forget, but like I said. It just didn’t seem relevant.

Bruce: ....that does not help, no.

Tim: Wait, what? Who is this guy!?

Damian: ....Grayson, did you hit your head on patrol? You’re not making any sense.

The speaker crackles to life again before anyone can press Dick for more questions.

Boone: Hello? Are you reading me loud and clear in the top secret Batcave you got there? 

Dick: Boone. What the hell do you want, and how do you even know we have a Batcave, let alone call it that? And also, what the hell do you want?

Boone: Freddy! My buddy! My pal! Long time, no ass kicking! 

Dick: Not that long. Usually you like to wait a few more months than this before ringing me up to ask for another one.

Boone: Any chance we swap this connection out for a video call? You sound irate, and that’s easily one of your top ten facial expressions. You can’t tell but I’m fanning myself just thinking about it.

Dick: I am going to kill you. It is going to hurt.

Boone: Promises, promises. You always say things like that and yet here I am, my masochistic needs still unmet....

Dick: Boone!

Boone: Freddy! Alright, unclench. No need to get your jockstrap in a bunch. I figured you had a Batcave because you obviously have to have some kind of lair on site, and your Daddy Warbucks seems too fond of his toys to fit everything in the attic, so downstairs seemed a safe space. You can relax. I’m not spying on you via a periscope sticking out of your toilets or something suitably archvillainous and cliche.

Dick: And you just happened to know its called the Batcave?

Boone: ....well on that score I mean, I have met you, and your old man does have a theme, and it wasn’t actually super hard to add two plus two and get four there. Thanks for the confirmation though. Its always nice to know I’ll still be able to make it on my brains once all this beauty begins to fade. Ah, time, that bitch. The absolute Murder Icon we all aspire to, with a body count none of us will ever match.

Dick: Did you call just to wax poetic or whatever the fuck it is you think you’re doing, or is that just a treat I’ve earned with all my good karma.

Boone: Actually, funny you should say that, because I’m calling with an exciting investment opportunity that could reap you loads of karma reward points on the back end!

Dick: ....what.

Boone: I need your help. Sorry, was that not clear? I don’t have a ton of practice on that line. My profession’s not big on the whole communal effort sort of thing.

Dick: ....what.

Boone: Oh come on, don’t be like that. It can’t be that shocking to you, I mean, you’re a hero. Helping people is what you do. You have to hear that line all the time!

Dick: Yes, just usually not from mass murderers.

Boone: Oh, you damn me with faint praise.

Dick: As long as we’re clear on the damnation part.

Boone: Besides, I mostly just murder in a singular fashion, you know, as in one at a time. There’s hardly ever any mass.

Dick: Well that changes everything.

Boone *laughs*: Oh, Freddy. We do have fun. Speaking of, how about it? You wanna hop on over to the far side of the world and bail my finely curved and plushly padded ass out of the fire, before the nefarious evildoers who are after me do unseemly and deplorable things to it and also to my organs?

Dick: And here I thought nefarious evildoer was your job description. Someone’s gunning for your head and your title? Tough day you’re having, chum.

Boone: Its the world we live in, mate. Job security just ain’t what it used to be.

Dick: Not sure if that’s the world’s fault or more just something to do with your particular line of work. If only there had been someone at some point in your life who could have warned you about your profession’s usual stats on job security. Oh wait.

Boone: I know, I know. Listen, as dazzling a pairing as my pecs-tastic physique and scintillating intellect may be, I pale before your perfection, old buddy. Be a pal and try not to hold that against me, will you? Tell you what. You come help me out of this little old bind I’ve gotten myself into through no real fault of my own, and I’ll let you give me one of those judgmental stares you’re so fond of, and you can say you told me so. Actually, you know what, for a limited one time only offer, I’ll even throw in a free spanking!

Dick: You’re an idiot.

Boone: I know, who am I kidding. I’d let you put me over your knee any day. Really, its your own fault. When all your stern talk of discipline and punishment makes bad boys like me go weak in the knees and swoon, how can we possibly be expected to keep to the straight or narrow?

Dick: ....why do I get the feeling you didn’t just know I was here, but that my whole family is present and listening too?

Boone: In my defense, I distinctly recall you being the one to tell me to get a hobby, last time we tangoed in Paris.

Dick: I was talking about things to occupy your time without killing people, not inviting you to occupy your time making my life miserable. And it was Chicago, not Paris.

Boone: Well then you should have been more specific. And I know it was Chicago, you moron. Ugh. I may kill people, but you’re murder on a theme. God, you can be such a peasant sometimes.

Dick: This from the guy who....you know what? No. Stop. I’m not getting sucked into this again with you. Get to the point, Boone. Fine, you landed your ass in more trouble than even you can handle, for once. Why is this my problem, and what would possibly make you think I would help you out of a mess you made and probably more than deserve to reap the consequences of?

Boone: Because you’re a goshdarn hero, Dickie, and a better man than me, remember? And because you’re not doing it for Shrike the mercenary, you’re doing it for your old buddy Boone. That you couldn’t save from himself and will hate yourself for not saving now, if I do wind up dead and you happen to ask yourself if you could have stopped this. Which, of course, we both know you will. So should we just skip to the part where you do what we both know you’re gonna do in the end anyway, because you can’t be anyone other than who you are anymore than I can be anyone other than who I am, no matter how much either of us wants to pretend otherwise? Or do you want to dance this out a few more songs first?

Dick: Send the situation details and coordinates to the email address I gave you last time. I’ll be there as soon as I can, and if you so much as think as killing someone while I’m there, you won’t like where I drop you off.

Boone: Mmm. Fair enough. For all the perkiness of your perky parts, your taste in venues has always been shit. You can cool your jets by at least five degrees, Mister Superhero Sir. I’m in no rush to enjoy the accommodations of Bludhaven Penitentiary a second time. They didn’t even have HBO. Barbarians.

Dick: And Boone? After I do this, you and I are through. You stay out of my way from now on, and I’ll do the same. Clear?

Boone: Oh, Freddy. Tell yourself whatever you want to, but we both know that you and I won’t be through until the day one of us dies. I’ll owe you one, let’s go with that. Alright, check your email, just sent the sitch. I’ll see you when you get here, til then this booty’s gotta bounce! Ta!

The speaker hisses static as the phone disconnects. There’s awkward silence as nobody has any clue what to say and Dick very conspicuously checks his email on his phone.

Bruce: This Boone...he’s the mercenary and occasional assassin Shrike? 

Dick just nods, his shoulders tense and uncomfortable. Everybody else eyes each other warily, except for Cassandra and Tim who exchange particularly confused glances. They fought a mercenary named Shrike once, years ago, but nobody had ever said there was anything significant about him, or hinted there was any reason he and their oldest brother should have any basis for having a conversation like...whatever that just was. 

Not to mention, even Bruce sounds weird now. Like he’s just as awkward and uncomfortable as the rest of them look and feel. And Bruce only sounds uncomfortable when talking about like. Feelings and stuff. Family situations. Never cases. Never....the bad guys.

Bruce: ....he was one of the other students at Vengeance Academy, I take it.

Dick still doesn’t look up from his phone. His voice is resigned and weary. This is not a discussion he wants to have, his siblings can tell that much. Even if the rest is all just gibberish to them.

Dick: He ended up with the League after Shrike died. Trained with them for a few years, then eventually broke off to do his own thing. Called himself Shrike in honor of....our old teacher. He was. Particularly attached to him.

Bruce: ....you...kept in touch, then?

Dick barks out a startled laugh, full of too many other emotions to put a name to.

Dick: Hardly. We’ve just....run into each other over the years since then. He figured out who I was a long time ago, when he recognized my picture in some puff piece online, about you taking me in and your charity work with kids’ programs after that. And he recognized my fighting style as Nightwing, so. It was just inevitable we’d cross paths, I guess. There’s just. There’s stuff between us that never got settled, you know?

Bruce: ...I’d almost forgotten that was where you first honed your skills with your escrima sticks. Why didn’t you ever tell me? Who he was...that you’d encountered him? Since...those days.

Dick finally looks up and studies Bruce carefully. Then he looks off to the side and sighs.

Dick: Because you’d forgotten that was where I first honed certain skills. And I didn’t particularly want to remind you, I guess.

He sighs again and shakes his head as Bruce looks about to respond.

Dick: Bruce, I....look, we’ve both put a lot of years and effort into not talking about this. Seems a shame to break our streak now. Can we just....this is just something I have to do, and I kinda need it not to be anything more than that right now. It’s just. I have to go.

Bruce: ....I understand.

Dick barks out another uncharacteristic laugh, sharp and reproachful, but at who, it’d be impossible for even him to say.

Dick: I doubt that. I don’t even understand. But I appreciate you trying to, and...letting this wait for another time. Like I said. I have to go. Sorry I can’t help out more with the case. I’ll see you all later.

Damian: Grayson, don’t be absurd! You can’t go! Whoever that man was, he’s clearly manipulating you!

Dick shakes his head and laughs one more time, but here, at least, its a bit warmer, a bit closer to his usual humor. He stops to ruffle his youngest brother’s hair as he passes him, before continuing on towards where his motorcycle is parked along the main causeway to the cave’s entrance.

Dick: Trust me, kiddo, I know. He’s not even trying to be subtle. It’s so....tacky.

All too soon, his engine roars to life, and then his cycle and its passenger speed out of the cave leaving behind only shadows, echoes, and the backglow of his headlights, all of which soon die away themselves.

In their wake, all eyes turn as one to Bruce, still seated in front of the Batcomputer.

Duke: I have questions.

Jason: I have comments.

Tim: I have concerns.

Bruce sighs.

[kingdomofbretonxrpg]

An Abduction

Parties: Our Villain and Jadon Floch

Date: September 19th, 2022

Location: Starts outside the J2 Bar & Restaurant

Triggers: Threats of violence, abuse, kidnapping, use of guns, shooting, blood 

@jadonfloch

OOC Note// We are posting this so everyone can know ooc what is happening, but as of right now no characters will be aware of what has happened to Jadon other than Jadon himself. Do not have your character react to this and remember not to have your character act as if they have any knowledge of this in their threads unless given permission by Steph or the admins.

Villain:

The new instructions angered him. Kidnapping!? He couldn’t just kill these dumb fucks. But oh no…. He messed it up last time, something he still refused to accept full blame for by the way, and now they wanted to stir the pot in another way. They did allow him to choose the targets. After inspecting the different members of the Houses, he decided to start with Maine. They were ridiculously male dominated and tended to not just cower in their Chateau. Perfect. 

He settled on Mr. Pretty face, mostly because he literally had the most boring routine of all time. What the fuck was up with this guy? If he didn’t have a book glued to his nose, he was at work. He was built like a tank but acted like he was some computer geek with the muscle span of an apricot. Whatever. It would make it fun to have him just disappear. 

He parked beside J2 and waited. He just had to wait until the pretty-faced Dominant closed up for the night and he would make his move.

Jadon:

Jadon moved through the bar, one last sweep through for the night now that all the staff were cleared out and an Uber had taken the regular home. With a yank on the back staff door he spun his keys on his finger and rubbed his tired blue eyes with his free hand. It would be a pretty early night in, done with the book in his pocket and the sky too cloudy for stargazing. It wasn’t until he was heading toward his car when he thought he heard something and looked up from his boots.

Villain:

This pretty boy made it all too easy. Didn’t even look around. This guy was used to life being safe - built like a wall and all. A boring wall but a wall nonetheless. He withdrew his handgun from his pocket and pressed it to the hollow of the man’s back. “Bonjour you dumb fuck. Don’t make a fuss and no one gets hurt, got that?” he muttered quietly. 

Jadon:

It really didn’t register with Jadon that despite the attack that he of all people would be in danger. He’d made an appearance at the Château for Cyrus’ sanity, but with his work schedule it seemed,  to him at least, all too easy to go home unnoticed in the early morning hours and stick to his typical routine. Jadon’s immediate reaction was to freeze, “The money’s in the building, buddy. Wasn’t even a busy night.” He stalled trying to think of what he should or shouldn’t do as he swallowed at the cotton in his mouth. “Listen, I haven’t seen you.” Jadon raised his hand. “This doesn’t have to be a thing, just tell me what you want.”

Villain:

“Shut the fuck up and stop whining.” He growled. Pitiful. He pressed the weapon into Jadon’s back and his trigger finger itched. Oh to feel that delicious heat pour over his skin. But no. Alive they said. Fucking bullshit. “You see that car to your left. You are going to open the back seat and climb right on in. No funny business. Or you’ll be bleeding out on these fine city streets and I’ll go find that pretty little brunette with the blue eyes. Have some fun with her I bet before I’m done. Might even let her live. Maybe. Now move.” He stabbed the gun into the Dominant’s skin, just to feel some satisfaction.

Jadon:

Jadon listened carefully, blue eyes taking in the surroundings and his instruction and committing it to memory. “If you’re the one driving I’d rather be chucked in the truck.” His jaw was tight, mouth pressed into a thin line. The last thing he wanted was to see this person’s face. He’d read enough to know better than to look at the person committing a crime with a deadly weapon. His feet moved toward the car cautiously and, against his better judgement, he spat, “No idea who you’re talking about.” Jadon wasn’t one to get in a fight, not unless it was to protect someone he cared about.

Villain:

“As soon as your preferences become relevant, I’ll be sure to let you know, pretty boy.” He snarled and nudged the man toward the car. He laughed at the bit of spirit the Dominant showed. Honestly, about fucking time. “I’m sure you don’t. Not a sweet fucking clue. I swear you have no dick for all you notice. Been watching you for ages now.” He muttered. “Now open the door and get in.” He had already rigged the car, once in, there were no handles, the glass was bullet proof and there was a screen between the back seat and front, not easily visible from outside. In essence, the back seat was a delicious trap, even for well-muscled boys like this one. He just had to get the beefcake in there.

Jadon:

The fact that anyone had been watching him was unnerving. Jadon had never found himself to be worth anyone’s time, the few subs that he’d fallen for told him as much. The only conclusion that Jadon could come to was that this was directly about his close relationship with Cyrus. He’d take a bullet for him, considering Cyrus akin to a brother, but logic told Jadon that he’d have better luck figuring out who this person was if he played the good dog. No one was around to save him if he took a bullet and Jadon was sure that was why this guy had turned up at J2 after the staff left. His pulse was racing as he got in the car, swallowing when he realized the space was as good as a trunk. The moment the door closed he could feel his chest tighten, his lungs burn, his pulse race. Taking slow deep breaths, Jadon tried to calm himself and drink in every detail while swallowing down his anxiety. The ‘second location’ factor now settling into the reality of his mind, he didn’t think he would get out of this alive.

Villain:

The door snapped closed behind the Dominant and he felt a rush of pleasure at the success of the kidnapping. He circled around the vehicle, adjusting his hand to ensure that any security cameras would be unable to make out his face with any certainty. Just one more generic male in a city full of them. Perfection. He slid behind the wheel and pulled out smoothly into traffic. This was where kidnappers often made mistakes, drawing attention to themselves by speeding or causing a fuss. He drove methodically, keeping to just above the limit (too slow can also be a tip off) before turning off the main artery onto a rural road. The vehicle bumped and jostled as it made its way over the rutted road. He pulled into the garage and let the door close and lock before sliding out behind the wheel. He opened the back door and tossed a pair of handcuffs onto the seat before closing the door again. “Put them on.” 

Jadon:

Throughout the drive Jadon tried to create some sort of mental map of every turn and some sort of inventory of everything on him that could be used as a weapon or to leave a trail to him. In the back of his mind the seed of hopelessness had already been planted. Being taken to a second location and in a car at that. He really didn’t see himself making it home. Swallowing that pill rather than feeding into the hurt of Rhett and Samuel losing another person or Javan being alone, Jadon simply tried to be present and compartmentalize the problem. It all seemed fruitless and he put up no fight as he slipped the cold metal over his wrists. Leaning back into the stiff seat of the car, Jadon closed his eyes and waited for his next instruction, simply replaying his best attempt at a map the hell out of dodge in his head over and over again.

Villain:

As he waited for the Dominant to put on the cuffs, the assassin turned kidnapper tossed his jacket, gloves and hat into a bin and let the lid fall closed. He pulled on a simple sweatshirt and picked up the gun again. He made no effort to hide his appearance, after all, he expected to smear this bastard’s brains all over the basement walls. Pulling open the back door again, he nodded at the obedient Dominant, “Awww … what a good boy.” He taunted gruffly. “Get out.” He snarled, gesturing with the gun as he did so. The back door of the garage lead down to the basement where the pretty little bitch boy was going to find his cell. A sink, toilet and cot. There were four perfect cells and another backup one on the main level. Of course, pretty boy wouldn’t know that. “Down the stairs. Look at that … choice of your own room. Get in.” 

Jadon:

Jadon snarled at the ‘good boy,’ chest puffing up as he got out of the car and towered over the gunman. He was tempted to quip that the man must be a real coward to not call him by his name, while logic prevailed and he bit his tongue once more. The mantra to focus repeating in his head. Jadon looked at everything, the night sky for a last glimpse of stars, the building to know where he’d surely die, every detail of every lock, burn in his brain. Swallowing he walked into the nearest room, hoping that if given a chance this would make running easier. With no hope left in his system, Jadon’s stormy blue eyes looked over the man, locking on his face, jaw tight as he stepped into the cell, holding up his cuffed hands in a silent question if they were coming off or not.

Villain:

He enjoyed the little flash of temper. Good. He wasn’t completely weak at least. The desire to put a bullet into that flesh and watch the life drain was beyond tempting. His trigger finger itched, ached to just do it and to hell with the consequences. However, he managed to hold himself together, just barely. As the Dominant stepped into the cell, he tugged the door closed and let the lock jangle into place. Then he reached between the bars as if to undo the cuffs before laughing. “Oops. … lost the key. You’ll make it work, right, pretty boy?” He chuckled. “Food will come … eventually. The sink works … more or less so you probably won’t die of hydration … probably.” He started to head back up the stairs before throwing over his shoulder, “And you’ll have company soon so you won’t get too lonely.”

Jadon:

It was one thing to take him, another to convince him he wouldn’t survive this, but to do it while denying him his dignity? Jadon snapped. Baring his teeth he threw a laundry list of slurs at the gunman, “Nom de dieu de putain de bordel de merde de saloperie de connard d'enculer ta mère.” His blonde hair fell into his eyes as he grabbed the bars and spat in the man’s face. If he was going to shoot him he could shoot him in the back. Jadon turned away and moved to the back of the cell, leaning against the cold wall.

Villain:

The vitriol poured out by the Dominant was entertaining to say the least. “Fuck my maman? Go ahead. I know she’s been around the block more than once. Oh … oh was that supposed to hurt my feeli…” Then the spit was dripping off his cheeks. “Fucker.” The gun roared to life, splintering the bullet against the stone of the wall as his aim went wide and one shard merely grazed the captured Dominant’s arm. “Next time, I’ll put it through your head, pathetic piece of shit.” He snarled as he turned to storm up the stairs, slamming the door behind him. The sound of the heavy deadbolt turning an impossibly loud sound in the silence of the space.

Jadon:

To say that the bullet whizzing past him was a shock was an understatement. Swallowing at the dry knot in his throat he waited for the echo of footsteps to tamper out before he even looked at his arm or around the cell. There wasn’t much he could do about it in handcuffs and he’d had worse in the bar, he thought. It didn’t change the shiver down his spine that he knew the prick meant what he’d said. His blue gaze settled on the rusty, dripping faucet. As Jadon wondered how long he’d be down there he let his mind focus on anything but the inevitable weight of death and, for a time, that simply meant wondering if he’d die tetanus from the rusty pipes that were supposed to keep him hydrated.

Villain:

The rage was a potent brew and he wasn’t sure if he was more offended by the spit or the fact that his bullet was poorly targeted. He didn’t shoot out of rage, he was good at his job. It was madness. This Vannes place .. this fucking kingdom was putting him off his game. He needed to take care of this damn business and get the hell out of this shitty place, with these shitty people and get his life together. He took slow calming breaths. He needed to keep a low profile for a day or so and then he needed to get back to work. He had to fill those cells and satisfy his fucking boss so he could make amends and not end up with his own bullet and a shallow grave. Later he’d take some food down, for now the dumb pretty boy could just stew in his own juices. Serves him right, he thought with amusement as he looked down at the key to the cuffs in the palm of his hand. Serves him fucking right.