#yes she also files her nails when you're of little interest to her

[sanguinesocierie]

for as mysterious & cool as fina presents herself, sometimes she's an absolute fail. her nails? manicured & rather long. fina's intent is to poke, cut or scratch people sometimes... & other times? she ends up poking herself in the eye, nicking her skin or suffers a terrible nail break.

[captains-simp]

(Not me accidentally posting this when it was half done)

I knew I could count on you @wndrcarol for a jock!Carol request🥳 also....👀I heard you like Sharon

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

1.9k words

Warnings: harassment, degrading, face slapping, strap on sex, spitting, choking and hints of overstimulation

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You groaned in frustration when you finished checking the kitchen for your girlfriend. Everytime you went to a party with her the same thing happened.

You'd arrive, take a while to get comfortable and as soon as you did Carol would be whisked away by her friends leaving you to stand awkwardly in the corner. You really needed to get more friends. The ones you had never seemed to come to those parties.

You wandered outside onto the wooden decking area to get some fresh air and leant against the fence as you lazily scanned the area for Carol. You knew she wasn't out there, you had already checked.

Your eyes landed on a brunet who had been watching you carefully but the moment you locked eyes he scurried away back inside, not wanting to be seen near you. You smiled at the memory of the last time you had met at a party.

"There was only 10 seconds of the game left but I kicked the ball as hard as I could and it was on the last second of the game that it scored and we won!" Tyler exclaimed before taking another sip of his bear and gleamed at the memory.

"That's great." You said as you continued to scan the room for Carol.

"It was, you should'a been there." Tyler said as he looked back at you, or more he looked above the line of your low hanging top. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

"I was at Carol's game." Tyler didn't react to the mention of your girlfriend. It wasn't like he didn't know you were dating, everyone knew. Carol made sure of that.

"Unlucky, mine was a lot more interesting." He declared with a smug grin. A brief memory of Carol fucking you in the showers after that game flashed through your mind and you couldn't contain your smile at knowing how wrong the guy infront of you was.

Unfortunately, he thought that smile was at him.

"I had a pretty great game before that too. But it's getting kinda loud in here, wanna go somewhere more private?" He smirked in an extremely unattractive way.

"I'm good, I need to go find Carol." You said quickly, wanting to get the hell away from Tyler.

You hadn't seen Carol in a while. It was her idea to go to the party, it was an environment she thrived in. You, however, did not. It wasn't your scene and you didn't know anyone there, not well at least.

At some point through the mass of bodies, loud music and numerous people trying to get Carol to do shots with them or be on their beer pong team, you had been seperated from the Captain and you hadn't seen her since.

"Come on, I'm sure there's some spare rooms upstairs." There was a slight slur to his voice that made it even worse when he approached you and put a heavy hand on your waist.

"Get off me, Tyler!" You snapped and pushed his hand away but he continued with a frown.

"What? Don't you want this-" He was cut off when a fist shot out beside you and punched him across the face. Tyler staggered back, gripping his bleeding nose, as the people around you cheered loudly, oblivious to what had happened prior.

"Get your fucking hands off my girlfriend." Carol demanded as she continued to advance towards a cowarding Tyler who could only hold his hands out in defence. You pulled Carol away with to turn her towards you and Tyler scrambled to his feet to flee.

"Are you okay?" Concerned and familiar eyes met yours that instantly eased your worry. Carol brought her hands gently up to your face as she scanned you closely and you were surprised to see that she looked completely sober.

You nodded your head and breathed out a yes before you took her right hand away from your face to examine it carefully. The dull lighting in the room made it hard to make out but you could feel that there was nothing out of place.

"Come on." Carol said as she took your hand. "Let's get out of here."

Tyler had a bandage across his nose for a while. He had avoided you like the plague ever since, clearly have some sense in him.

"Want some company?" Came a voice from beside you. You glanced sideways and saw Sharon fall easily into place next to you. She mirrored your position of leaning against the barrier and gave you a knowing smile.

"Thanks." You breathed out, feeling kind of embarrassed someone had noticed Carol always seemed to ditch you at parties.

"No luck finding the girlfriend?" Sharon teased.

"Is it that obvious?" You asked but weren't sure you really wanted to know.

"You look like a lost puppy without her." Sharon chuckled making you flush. Maybe you were too clingy.

"She's the golden retriever lesbian." You corrected making Sharon laugh more.

"That seems about right." She went to move closer to you but a group of jocks spilled out onto the decking, without Carol among them.

"Fuck this." She huffed and took your hand to lead you over to the garden swing bench. Your hand felt like it was burning when she held it to pull you along. Although her hands were physically soft, they weren't the kind of softness you felt with Carol. It didn't make you feel warm inside, it made you feel uneasy. But it was a party, you had to hold onto people to move about.

Part of your brain pointed out that there was only a few people in the garden so there was really no need for Sharon to navigate you through it, while the rest of you really did just want some company.

Sharon sat down on the bench and you followed, feeling as though you could relax a bit more on the edge of the garden.

"You know, I think Carol's a very lucky gal to have you." Sharon said as she watched you closely. You laughed nervously as you noticed how close she was. You found yourself searching the garden for Carol again but Sharon lighting held your jaw and turned it back towards her.

"Pretty thing like you must surely be a lot of fun to play with." She smirked as her other hand crept onto your thigh.

"Um I d-don't-"

"Shh, you don't need to talk." Sharon cooed as she tilted your chin up more when you struggled to keep eye contact. The blonde glanced at your lips and licked her own before leaning forward slowly.

Until a strong hand wrapped itself around your bicep and yanked you from the bench.

You stumbled into a fuming blonde who was glaring at Sharon. You blushed deeply as you realised how it looked at what Sharon was most likely trying to do.

"You keep your fucking hands off of my girlfriend, Carter." Carol spat as her fists clenched.

"You really shouldn't leave her unattended?" Sharon said, amused by Carol's anger. "Who knows what could have happened." She winked at you and looked away instantly.

Carol scoffed simply as she continued to glare daggers at the woman infront of you.

"In your fucking dreams, she's mine." She all but growled as she pulled you away. You yelped as you felt her nails dig into your skin but didn't have the nerve to ask her to loosen her grip.

Carol pulled you through the crowded house and up to an empty bedroom that she shoved you inside.

"Did you enjoy that? Whoring yourself out to Sharon?" Carol asked as she threw you to the bed and started undoing her belt.

"No I-" You started as you went to sit up but Carol put a firm hand to your chest and pushed you back flat against the bed.

"Shut up, slut. I don't want to hear another sound out of you unless you're saying my name." She warned as she pulled her strap out and pulled your panties down.

You looked at her wide eyed, never seeing her so worked up before sex. Sure, you'd have a lot of needy, desperate sex and the occasional quickly, but she never showed so little regard to you before.

"What? Think I'm going to be nice to you and take my time? Want me to touch you gently? Whores don't deserve to be treated nicely. You don't get to prep my cock either." Carol taunted as she pushed the tip of the head in and kept it there as she stared down at you. "You'll have to just take it how it is, not that you'll have much of an issue. You've always got such a sloppy cunt."

"Please, Captain." You found yourself whining earning you a harsh slap to your left cheek. Your head whipped to the side and your cheek burned but Carol didn't seem to care.

"Who are you begging to fuck you?" Carol asked as she rocked her hips slowly as a reminder that you only had the very tip inside you.

"You Carol, I want my Captain's cock!" You cried out desperately.

"Only mine?" The blonde mused as she inched a bit more of the strap in.

"Yes Carol, only your cock. I only want you." You whined truthfully. Carol knew that of course, she knew you were incredibly loyal. That's what made the game so fun.

"Please! Please Carol I need you so bad. I want my Captain deep inside me, please please." You begged and felt as though you could cry in frustration.

"You really know how to plead like a whore, don't you. Did you learn that somewhere? Or are you just a natural cock slut?" She asked as she slammed her hips forward and filed you up with the strap at every angle.

You moaned loudly and threw your head back against the pillows as Carol set about her harsh and unrelenting pace. The thick strap filled you up entirely with every thrust. It didn't take long for your eyed to water from the sheer amount of pleasure she was giving to you so roughly.

Carol grunted as she pounded the strap into you and her grip on your wrists tightened, letting you know she wouldn't let go anytime soon.

"See? You've got such a sloppy pussy. And it's all mine." Carol spoke as she glanced down to look at your pussy taking her strap so well.

"You're gonna cum for me now. You're going to cum all over my cock." Carol demanded as she noticed your signs of approaching orgasm.

You cried out at the force of each of Carol's thrusts until it became too much to bear and you crashed over the edge without much to hold on to. As you did so, Carol brought her hand up and wrapped it tightly around your throat before giving it a quick squeeze.

"You belong to me, slut." Carol said as she continued thrusting mercilessly. She noted your blissed expression and open mouth and gripped your jaw tightly, much rougher than Sharon had. She pulled your face down with your mouth still open and spat. You moaned as you tasted her saliva on your tongue and around your lips. You swallowed it eagerly making Carol beam internally, not that she could let you know that.

"Cum again for me whore. I get to do what I want with you. So you're going to keep cuming until I get bored. I don't give a fuck if you get tired." She spoke next to your ear, poison dripping from her words.

"So fucking cum."

[sor-vette]

four, circus!! (index/description)

☜ three, an all-out fight club!!

☞ five, dots!!

t/w: dead bodies, mention of overdose

"This has got to be the dumbest thing I've ever seen," Yoongi thinks to himself as he blankly stares at Jimin, transferring the PPT file to the projector.

123 slides in "Reasonable arguments as to why we should date, _̵͚̾͌_̶̢̛̘̅͛̕_̶̡̧̝͗̒̋̌̚_̴̮̒̍̿̃͠ .

"Wrong PowerPoint bro," Jungkook grunts with closed eyes. No doubt the idiot had tried to stalk you throughout the night. It's been three days since Erik had officially enrolled.

Namjoon also has his eyes fixed on the projector, his expression giving nothing away.

"Resigned to death, poor bastard, as you should."

Jimin momentarily looks behind him to see why Jin had started to snort in laughter before scrambling to choose another file.

56 slides in "What do we know about Erik and what to do about it?"

"The title could be less verbose," Jin remarks, spinning his chair around the room.

"You're one to talk, literally," Jimin sneers but, there is very little malice in his voice if any. Besides Namjoon, V and Hope, who actually stuck to his word of minding his business, Yoongi didn't know anyone personally in the room. Though he sure has heard of the connections they had with you. Each weirder than the other.

Namjoon, the CEO, the one who went overboard in commitment and scared you off. Rumour was he offered marriage before the first "I like you." But that as well could be bullshit.

Hope, with the most cordial contact out of all. And also the most distant. You two had fundamentally different perceptions of how the world worked. Incompatible match, as the saying goes.

Jin. Despite the grandeur of his character, Yoongi knew very little of him. Even less as to why you left. He presumed the lack of commitment on both sides.

Jimin, the almost. For five months Yoongi had to hear nothing but coy whispers of just what good friends you two were. What good time you both had jumping back and forth from Paris and home. And then with zero explanation, you weren't. Every once in a while, he'd see the two of you in the hallway. Working hard to suffer through an exchange of pleasantries between long awkward pauses. The whispers had been effectively stomped to death, with no one the wiser as to what the hell had happened.

V, the one you hated and the one who hated you. How the two of you even met was beyond anyone's understanding. How you didn't rip each other's throat out even more so. Why he was here? God only knew.

And the last one, JK. Your trainee before Erik. The one who'd shamelessly bounced, leaving you in the dust when the enrollment came with a nary of thank you. After that, you officially joined the cleaner department and largely went missing from the public eye.

And, of course, Yoongi himself. The only official boyfriend. The one who officially broke both of your hearts.

"If all of you could please focus!" Jimin snapped, standing with a wad of paper in hand, waving it like a teacher in front of particularly annoying group of students.

"He even made notes," Namjoon whispered faintly.

"More like a manifesto," Yoongi snickered, letting his eyes wander over the sheer thickness of the file.

"Silence!" For a split second, Yoongi wanted to make a jab about a chihuahua being able to bark, but having considered his own height, he chose to be silent.

"So, let's start with basics. Erik Genyer. Joined two and a half years ago through a recruitment agent. He's 24, lived in Seattle before moving here. No known parents or siblings." Jimin recounted with ease.

"I hope you didn't look through his records," Namjoon frowned at the screen. "Because I did not authorize that."

"Does it count as looking if it's a brief glance?"

"Yes."

"And yet here you are benefitting from it." Namjoon could only breathe through his nose a tad harder.

"Why are you telling us this?" Jin interjected. "Mr CEO here could just give us his file - we'd read for ourselves."

"I will not. That's against company policy."

"And what you're doing here is completely legal and non - invasive." Jin raised his eyebrows, not phased even in the slightest that he was much below Namjoon's position.

"Silence!" Jimin yelped again at the front. "Has anyone here worked with Erik?"

"Hope definitely has," V piped up from his seat, looking as uninterested as one could. Yoongi narrowed his eyes at him. V took the piercing glare in stride, haughtily turning away.

"Well, yes but..." Jimin shuffled on the stage almost awkwardly. "He has strictly declined the invitation to our little... boy band."

"Wait does that mean he could tell _̸̢͉̦͔̣͈̱̅́́̓͊̇̂̓́̕͝ͅ_̸̨̙͚̻̬͖͉̻͔̑̓͐͜ - I mean R.D.?" Jungkook suddenly asks, eyes wide. Even Yoongi blanched at the thought. Everyone straightened in their seats. This was all fun and games until the moment you knew. Oh, you'd rip each and every one of them a new asshole. All of them could kiss goodbye to any attempt of trying to mend bridges. By that point, there wouldn't even be a river stretching underneath.

"I sincerely hope not." Jimin whispers and they sit in a moment of silence, weighing the risks.

"Heh, hope not." Jin suddenly gives a breathy laugh solely to be met by a general aura of disapproval.

"It's not funny." Namjoon scolds slightly but, Jin being Jin, openly looks him into eyes and goes -

"I know."

Amidst the banter, JK raises his hand shyly.

"I trained with him for a short while."

"And what is he like?" Jimin's eyes almost sparkled at anyone giving an actual insight.

"He must be wearing contacts or something," Yoongi mused, pushing the cap of his water bottle around the table. He knew Jimin to be attractive. No one in the entire company would shut up about it, nevertheless, something about him seemed almost supernatural.

JK shrugged in response.

"A bit rude and careless but talented. He finished training early."

"Did it seem like he was particularly going after her?" Namjoon interrogated further. There was a deep scowl of resentment on his face.

"Uhh, no. I think he was interested in the cleaner department in general. Apparently, he spent most of his orientation there."

"He also spent a month in surveillance. Did you speak with him...V?" If V was surprised by Jimin addressing him personally, he didn't show it as he continued to inspect his nails.

"Didn't even know he was there."

"Why did he stay so long in the cleaner department?" Yoongi asked as he ran over the information on the screen. Besides the already mentioned month in surveillance and a week in networking and relations, this Erik hadn't even tried to apply anywhere else.

"Poor communication skills. I had to throw him out. That's why he was only there a week." Jin explained.

"So you spoke to him?"

"Well, no, Irina," he was interrupted by a hollow thud. Without prompt V had dropped his steel thermos onto the desk, tea splattering everywhere and staining JK's jacket in the process. Both of them fumbled to clean it up with anything they could. V dabbed the desk harshly, the wood creeking at every aggressive wipe. Yoongi saw Jin looking sideways, the same confused expression echoed on his face.

"Well, as I was saying, Irina, R.D.'s friend, I'm sure you're familiar, came to me, said he was causing trouble and asked to refer him."

"And you sent him to R.D.?"

Jin gave a deeply suffering sigh.

"No, I did not send him. I referred him to general management and they gave him to the cleaners ."

"Ok, I get all of this. But what are we supposed to do about him?" Namjoon interrupted, jaw set in a tight grip.

Jimin fell silent at the front of the room.

"Yeah, this was the main question." Yoongi thought bitterly.

It was all a question of ethics, wasn't it? JK could pretend all he wanted to be above it all, to be respectful but then he trailed secret circles around you. Whether from guilt or perhaps a sense of entitlement. Yoongi didn't know or really care. Nevertheless the kid clearly had a hard time differentiating between what he said and what he did. Yoongi was however surprised to see Namjoon be so eager. He quite fancied making himself bald from worrying about the nature of evil. Just how easy it was to hide it behind big aspirations of providing aid. But it seemed as of late all of that was tossed aside.

Jimin was the one who orchestrated this in the first place, and so naturally, everyone looked at him for guidance. He was still shuffling around, nervously fiddling the blue pen.

"Well, first of all, I think we should talk more to R.D." A huff passed around the room.

"Talk to her?" V asked sceptically, mouth set in a straight line and heavy wrinkles carved between brows.

"Do you have any idea how difficult that would be?"

"Certainly it would be for you," Yoongi snarled, earning a harsh glare.

"Listen, at the end of the day, it's not really about us trying to force her into something. It's just to make sure... she's living a safe life. Well, the safest that's possible." Jimin said with enough sincerity to trigger certain insecurities within Yoongi and by the look of it also Namjoon.

It was no secret that between the seven, they were the most possessive over you. Both having the wrong idea that you were theirs. Which is why you left and why you probably were so caught up in Jimin. The purity and sheer selflessness of his sentiments acted like a punch to the gut. The genuine care that he reflected like a sun made the raw wound in Yoongi's chest seep even more. To be loved like that would be a dream come true. Yoongi shifted his attention to the laminated floor.

"We talk to her, find out what her life is like, keep a close eye on what Erik does. Talk to other cleaners about him, and once we find out, she's happy. That's. The. End. Of. That." There was no uncertainty. Jimin was dead serious.

The meeting was adjourned, quite amicably actually, but Yoongi knew that the rest of them had ulterior motives and plans. He had them too.

Jin and JK were no threat. Both were too uncertain of what to do with you.

Jimin had some deep-seated self esteem issues. Despite his 123 slide presentation, the way he spoke made it clear. That's probably why the abrupt parting, Yoongi mused. Both of you most likely shared the same anxiety about not being good enough for the other.

V was just V.

Namjoon was the only one Yoongi was truly worried about. Even from looking at his back, walking headstrong up the stairs, Yoongi could see how stubborn Namjoon was. In a way, it was like looking in a mirror. The possessiveness, the mulish mindset. They'd saw you, all of you and had decided that this was it. Yes, Namjoon would certainly be the toughest rival. However, Yoongi was very good at playing the long game. Especially if he wanted something so bad it felt like his thorax slowly being ripped out.

All that was left was Hope. But he wasn't even a viable player. After all, he hadn't even shown up.

***

"Why the fuck is he so heavy?" Erik grunted, swaying left and right and holding onto his dear life to the bagged pair of legs.

"Rigor mortis...set in," you huffed in answer, from the upfront of the body. "At least he wasn't rotting already. That's just nasty. 1, 2, 3."

Both of you lift the body into the van and let the poor bastard drop with a soft thud. Sweat pooled underneath your white hazmat suit with plastic glasses digging straight into your brain. You banged hard against the "EMT" van, and it drove away, carrying Dr. Martin Leyster to the morgue.

Should the neighbours see anything, it was a sad story of a depressed psychiatrist accidentally overdosing on his own meds. The evidence of him manipulating his most vulnerable patients into bankruptcy erased in you any stray feelings of sympathy though.

"You have the peroxide?" You rifled through the cleanup bag, but instead of answering, Erik began to actively point somewhere behind your back. A cold chill ran up your spine as you realize someone has been watching you stuff the body in the trunk. It quickly dissipates when you see a familiar smile.

"Hard at work, I see," Hope whistled, bounding towards you more like a kid on a school trip, rather than what the reality was.

"May I borrow your mentor for a bit?" He asked politely, still smiling up at Erik. There was no warmth in his expression.

"You are after all now an official member of the cleaner crew. Surely you can handle this on your own."

Erik looks at you for a moment before giving a loud sigh and trudging back to Leyster's office, the white toolbox angrily swishing back and forth in his hand.

Without hesitation, you remove the glasses from your head, revelling in the ease of pressure. Hope had stopped smiling altogether, looking quite pensive.

"What brings you here?" You ask lightly. To see him here is not worrying per se, but certainly interesting. He gives a quick shrug.

"Nothing much. Wanted to see how you were doing after that runt's little stunt." You only laugh at the shallow animosity. Erik's talent to drive people out of their patience was truly remarkable.

"I'm doing fine. You know... working. What about you?"

"I've been working as well."

You both fall silent.

"You ever thought about leaving the BH?" He suddenly asked, and you quirk a brow at the question.

"Not particularly. Have you?" Hope focuses a blank gaze at the grey walls of the multi-story apartment complex.

"A little bit. Last few days especially." You stand in muted shock. Hope was the last person you thought would quit. He was, without doubt, the most devoted, the most passionate out of all the hundreds of employees. He lived for the cause, he himself said so. And yet now he stood uncertain in front of you. Not really the bright and friendly Hope everyone knew, not really the strict and somewhat terrifying training teacher. He was just...quiet. It was an upsetting scene.

"Do you want to go for a drink or a lunch, maybe?" You offer, reaching for the zipper of the white suit. Yes, Erik could handle this on his own. He was a big boy. Hope hastily placed his hand atop of yours, pausing the movement. Even through the fabric, it radiated warmth. No wonder people called him sun. He frowned at the conjoined hands, lightly stroking his thumb over your knuckles before lighting up like a Christmas tree.

"No, no. I don't want to burden you with my problems." You didn't believe his smile for a second.

"Well, I won't steal you away for much longer, the pup might get anxious." He turned around, by the looks of ready to sprint off.

"Hey, wait!" He paused, not looking back.

"Do you why JK has been stalking me?"

"He has?"

He had. The first time you noticed a shifting figure in the background, you wrote it off to the combination of hangover and exhaustion. The second time he'd run off into the night faster than you could catch up. The third time you nearly flung yourself off the roof when seeing a pair of doe eyes staring back at you from an empty apartment building.

"There isn't like an alliance going around between some of my... acquaintances?" Truth be told, you found the very idea ridiculous, but it had wormed its ugly way into your brain and was now near impossible to get out. JK, Jimin, Yoongi and Namjoon wouldn't even get along with each other. Even though those four were most likely to meddle in your business. However, if looking realistically, it was probably just your paranoia taking an intensive round. Seeing suspicious cars, watchful eyes and snooping noses where there were none. Hope threw you a sardonic smile.

"That would just be stupid."

(a/n)

In this story people have their names and codenames and will be often used interchangeably. It all depends whether in the story the POV character knows the names of others or not.

[tiwaztyrsfist]

I posted 3,791 times in 2021

59 posts created (2%)

3732 posts reblogged (98%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 63.3 posts.

I added 18 tags in 2021

#miraculous ladybug - 3 posts

#do i get sir humphry applegate as my cabinet secretary as well? - 2 posts

#shit man i can't do a worse job than the last three - 2 posts

#wooooo! i'm prime minister of great britain! - 2 posts

#d&d - 2 posts

#stormlight archive - 2 posts

#it's brian henson - 2 posts

#ticket to ride is a game about riding trains and putting little trains on a map - 1 posts

#when they found her she had checked into a hotel under her husband's mistresses name - 1 posts

#but i mostly use dark balls - 1 posts

Longest Tag: 123 characters

#efnysien however was a cruel and jealous troublemaker who always sought to foment conflict where there had been none before

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

I think the real secret to the difference between youth culture and 'grown-up' culture actually has to do with the amount of novel information we absorb each day.

Think about it, young people from around 6 until at least 18 in the US, and longer if they go to college, spend the majority of their waking hours being bombarded with new or relatively new information. Yes we repeat a lot of stuff to reinforce, yes we review, but each day of school tries to incrementally advance at least a bit more knowledge.

Meanwhile 'Grown-ups' in the work force very quickly reach a point of stagnation. When was the last time you had something novel and new happen at work? I bet it's the same answer you'll give for 'When was the last time something got really fucked up royally at work'. A good noteworthy day at work is when the radio DJ plays a lot of songs you like and haven't heard for a while.

So here's my thought. Time perception is fluid. And if you're experiencing a lot of new and novel things, even if you don't enjoy or care about them, you're filling your brain. If you're doing a job that's essentially the same thing and you can do it by rote, you're not filling your brain.

And when you throw something new and fun/silly in there, how old you consider it is based on how far down the brain stack it is.

So if you're in school, you learn a new silly dance, like Flossing. It's now, it's cool, it's fun.

Your dad also picks it up from you.

You have Algebra, you have History, you have French II, you have Band, you have Chemistry, you have Drama. Next semester you have French III with a focus on Culture and Art, Biology 1, Sex Ed, Writting, Debate & Forensics, and Civics. And you're expected to retain as much of this as possible.

Meanwhile, over the last 9 months you Dad has had "Run the file, check the output, run the file, check the output, run the file, check the output" or possibly "Go to jobsite, nail shit when they tail me, go to the jobsite, pour the concrete, go to the jobsite, nail shit up where they tell me" or even "Go to the Hospital, check patients vitals, prescribe pills, check patients vitals, prescribe pills, check patients vitals, Don't prescribe pills, check patients vitals, take out appendix which i've done 20 times before but it's still the highlight of my month because it's the most interesting non-stress thing I'll do". And as long as you retain the skills you need to keep doing the exact same thing, you aren't really expected to retain anything new.

So a year later, in the brain file, you've piled 12 textbooks on top of the sheet of paper that was "Doing the Floss".

And your Dad/Mom/Uncle/Aunt/Whoever has had a year of getting little instruction sheets, doing what's on them, then immediately wadding them up and throwing them away. So what's on top in their brain file, is the last novel thing. The Floss is still at or near the top with only a synopsis of the one or two movies that really got them interested.

5 years from now young people won't remember the things, and when reminded they'll associate them with the time they learned them.

5 years from now, people in the work force will just randomly bust that stuff out because they live in a timeless fugue state and for them everything that's happened since they left school is essentially MORE recent that what happened to people IN SCHOOL last semester.

11 notes • Posted 2021-09-04 14:43:16 GMT

#4

The Humans have Red Blood

Parshendi have Orange Blood

Aimians have Violet Blood

Really looking forward to book 5 when Brandon introduces the Yellow, Green, Blue, and Indigo blooded races, and reveals that the Stormlight Archive was actually a REALLY opaque Homestuck AU all along

12 notes • Posted 2021-02-11 05:36:23 GMT

#3

Weird hypothetical legal question: Let's say magic suddenly became real. If one person murdered someone, and another person resurrected the victim, the first person would still be guilty of murder right?

If a person steals a valuable painting, and a second person stumbles upon its hiding place and returns it to the rightful owners/ authorities, the first person is still guilty of theft; would the same logic apply?

So if someone were to say, destroy all of Paris in some sort of hellish cataclysm, killing everyone, and someone else magically reverted everything undoing it, the first person would still be responsible for mass murder.

13 notes • Posted 2021-07-25 15:24:08 GMT

#2

I want to write a series of children's books like the Maisy, Miffy, or Clifford books, but on subjects that are incongruous.

If possible, stealing the character Ethel the Aardvark from an old Monty Python sketch.

Ethel The Aardvark goes Quantity Surveying

Ethel The Aardvark Commits Tax Fraud (with guest collaborator Jimmy Carr)

Ethel The Aardvark Decommissions Trawsfynyndd Nuclear Power Station

Ethel The Aardvark and the £4.8 million Golden Toilet

Ethel The Aardvark Immanentizes the Eschaton

Ethel The Aardvark De-Metricizes Great Britain.

etc.

14 notes • Posted 2021-09-20 01:57:24 GMT

#1

More authors need to get on Agatha Christie's level.

She, a well known author of mystery books, introduced a character in her books, one Ariadne Oliver, who is a well known mystery novelist who writes about an older male detective.

Ariadne Oliver is a BLATANT self insert.

She shows up in 6 Poirot novels (and one solo novel) and, here's what's important, She annoys the EVER LIVING SHIT out of Poirot. Poirot cannot STAND her and only his extreme reserve and pathological politeness stop him from being very rude or outright hostile to her.

Agatha Christie said "I'm gonna put myself into my super popular novel series, and my protagonist is gonna absolutely HATE me! I'm gonna just PISS HIM the FUCK off!"

Also, Ariadne's ability to guess/deduce what was going to happen was right on par with Captain Arthur "Sharp as a sack of wet sausages" Hastings.

AC said, "I'm gonna put myself into my own mystery stories, but I'm gonna be INCAPABLE of solving my own puzzles. I'm just going to ping pong from taking everything at face value to making up the most complex and convoluted bullshit explanations at lightning speed. I will make Hercule CRY"

30 notes • Posted 2021-08-18 02:40:27 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[mymymadeline]

•Friendly Dark

gif by: @chrishemsworht​​

pairing: Hallmark Christmas Movie Au! Poe Dameron x Reader 

word count: 6.9k+ words 

summary: 

warnings: alcohol cw

Adore You series: 01, 02, 03, 04, ... - AO3

Even though you’re on vacation, you are far from exempt from your work. And nothing is proving that more than the headache you nurse as you continue pouring over document after document on your tablet. Numbers and figures, charts and graphs, blueprints and sketches, even interviews and gossip articles – they’re all blending together after staring at the screen for what’s likely been hours. 

Snoke’s call the night before was not a social one – they never are. He was going on about some acquisition Kylo’s been trying to make for the past few months, and apparently, he was missing something crucial, which is where you usually come in. The two of you have always been a team for a reason. He was more of the passion and ideas, whereas you were better with relations and logistics. 

Snoke had immediately sent over hundreds of digital files for you to go through and find… well something. Most likely some kind of professional blackmail. Some kind of small violation or incident that would really be such a shame if it came to the media's attention. You know, the usual. 

So far, everything they’ve done is up to code, as far as you can tell. But Snoke won’t take no for an answer. He’d have your head for it. So you continue looking through page after page, searching for some dirt, searching for any kind of upper hand on the competition. 

After coming back in that night while on the phone with Snoke, you blew past your parents and went straight up to your room, where you’ve been for almost the entirety of this Sunday. You couldn’t even face them after that absolute embarrassment of an evening. And though this morning you did stalk around the house if only to get a thing or two to eat, you pointedly ignored your mother, only giving your father a small silent nod of acknowledgment. 

Stealing away to your room for a full day of silent, frustrating work was not exactly your idea of a fun vacation back home, but neither was last night. Just the thought of running into Poe again makes you squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment and stress. He probably thinks you’re an idiot now. Probably never wants to see you again. And who could blame him if he did? 

If you were a different woman, you’d probably have shed a few embarrassed tears in the solitude of your room, but that wasn’t you. Not anymore. So you rub your eyes once again, and get back to work.

You’re back to staring at a tax filing by the company’s CEO from seventeen years ago when a notification pops up at the top of your screen.

Unknown Number

hey! its rose! i got ur number from when you called the shop lol hope thats not creepy

i was wondering if ur busy tonight? i was thinking of getting drinks w/ some friends at Kanata’s! wanna come? i can pick u up since ur ride is chopped ;)

You blink back at the notification. Drinks? At Kanata’s? 

You can’t remember the last time you actually went out with a group of friends, especially for fun. Taking clients you and Kylo were wooing out to dinner was a common occurrence. But fun? They were never.

Another wave of anxiety washes over you. Friends? Who were these friends? Would they like you? Did you know them? Maybe it would be better to just stay and finish your work. Nothing could go wrong if you did that.

You open the message, absolutely ready to type an excuse why you can’t come, when there’s a gentle knock at your door. You already recognize it as your mother by the way she knocks even before she calls out gently. 

“Love? You in there?”

“I’m here.” You leave your voice flat and emotionless. You need her to know you’re still mad.

“Can… Can I come in?” 

‘No’ dances on the tip of your tongue for a strong moment, but the uncertainty in her soft voice gives you pause. 

“...Okay.”

The door clicks open slowly and your mother pokes her head in, a small, nervous smile affecting her features. You only look at her blankly from your nest of blankets and pillows that have been on your bed since high school.

She steps more fully into the room, closing the door behind her most of the way. She leaves it open just a little, giving the both of you some air to breathe, but also, in a way, making sure not to lock herself in a cage with a wounded animal. 

And she approaches you like one–cautious, hands visible and apologetic. You huff, curled up in the corner of your bed, and try to look anywhere but at her. But she’s hard to avoid as she sits gently on the far edge of your bed and pulls her hands into her lap, looking down and rolling them over one another contemplatively. You two sit like this for a moment, simmering in the uncomfortable tension, but like hell you’re the one with anything to apologize for. 

She lets out a deep sigh. “I’m… so, so sorry… about my behavior last night. I suppose I just… wasn’t handling your absence as well as I thought I was.”

Despite the small sorrow your heart finds at her small and broken tone, the anger–rage even– that has been boiling since the night before claws desperately to be let out. You breathe deeply, and do your best to keep it still in its place. But that doesn’t exclude the fury that seeps into your quiet voice, as you level your gaze with hers.

“Mom, that was the most embarrassing thing that has happened to me in my entire professional career. I need you to know this.”

She nods understandingly and looks back to her fiddling hands. “Yes. I know. And I couldn’t be sorry enough. I realized...I– I don’t know how to be your mother anymore.” You blink at this. A terrible lurch in your gut crawls into your throat at the sight of the tears silently beginning their descent down her cheeks. “I don’t know what to do for you when you're a grown woman who’s accomplished so much on her own without me. I miss you, but I’m not really sure I know you anymore.”

She looks up suddenly at you, her face twisted with grief and regret.

“I didn’t mean it like that… I-”

You stop her, shaking your head, swallowing the lump in your throat, willing the sudden strange wetness in your eyes away. Your voice comes out more choked up than you wish. But whatever wall was up is quickly crumbling away.

“No… Mom, I think I understand.” You look down at your own hands now, picking at your nails nervously, silently discovering the lineage of this habit of yours. You smile sadly at the thought. “I feel that way too sometimes… about myself.”

“Oh, love.” Your mother reaches out, placing her hand on your foot, the only part of you she can reach, and squeezes it gently. She smiles sweetly, her eyes and cheeks still wet, though she’s wiped away the tears.

“You’re not my little girl anymore… but you’re still my daughter, and I’ll love you no matter what.”

You nod, suppressing a sniff as you rub at your nose. She squeezes your foot one more time before standing up and making her way back to the door. She reaches for the handle when you call out. 

“I love you, Mom.”

The smile she sends you is genuine, heartfelt, and warming to your core. It makes you realize how much you truly missed your mother, even if she had her difficulties. “I love you too, girlie.”

With that, she closes the door, leaving you alone with your tablet and the unanswered message. But you know your response now. 

Me

Sounds fun! Let me know what time. I’d love to come, if you’ll have me.

You begin entering Rose’s information into your contacts and her response is almost immediate.

Rose Tico

duuuh! ill get u at like 8ish? and we’ll meet them there! cant wait!

You look down at the message and can’t help but feel a little more at home. 

______________

 You run a hand through your hair, adjusting your outfit for the hundredth time. You’ve opted for something more casual tonight. Something a little more friendly, approachable. You suddenly frown at your reflection. You don’t need these people’s approval. Well, no. But it wouldn’t be so bad to be friendly for once would it?

The two voices in your head continue to battle it out, leaving you frozen in the mirror, desperately trying to understand how you feel in this moment. Anxious? Perhaps. Regretful of accepting this invitation? Maybe. 

Your phone chirps, lighting up on your desk. Glancing over, you see it’s Rose. You don’t need to read it to know it’s just her announcing her arrival, but you pick it up anyway, settling down on your bed and slipping on your shoes as you open the message.

Rose Tico

here!!! right in front lol

Me

One moment!

You lace up your boots quickly, practically sprinting out of your room and down the stairs, snatching up your long coat on the way. 

“I’m headed out, I won’t be back until you guys are already in bed. So, goodnight.”

You call out to the living room as you pull on the coat, your parents turning from their seats on the couch, eyeing you with interest.

“And where are you going this late, young lady?” Your father questions sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.

“Out with friends,” you rush, already halfway out the door, spotting Rose in her car and giving a small wave. “Love you, bye!”

Half-jogging down the steps, you cross quickly but cautiously through the snow-laden yard, careful not to slip. As you close the gate behind you, Rose is already opening the passenger door from the inside, beckoning you in.

“Get inside, it’s freezing!”

You allow yourself a small laugh and slide into the seat next to her. Pulling the door closed, you look around, taking in the space of the car, as she starts it back up and pulls away from the curb. 

Like most things in The Base, it’s worn and old, peeling and chafed, likely held together with duct tape and love. But despite all of its imperfections, it’s not only comfortable, it’s cozy. It’s warm and personal, every dent containing a story, every mile meaningful. 

You can’t help but think back to the chill rigid efficiency of your TIE. Sure, it gets the job done, and is mighty stylish while it does so, but you’ve never felt like it was yours. Never felt anything but cool indifference for its sleek lines and dark exterior. 

“So, you’re looking snazzy tonight.” Rose pulls you out of your thoughts with her cheery tone. 

You look down at your outfit, once again tugging at its hems. 

“Am I? I was actually trying to dress down.”

She laughs at that. “You think that’s dressing down? No way, this is dressing down.” She takes one hand off the wheel, gesturing at her own attire: A brown button-up with a sewn name tag and a pair of dark cargo pants. Likely the uniform she wore to work today. Her cool attitude and smooth voice put you at ease, and you can feel your guard begin to lower. 

“I like this on you,” you quietly praise. You pick at your nails, continuing, “Don’t take this the wrong way, please, but… I admire that you can wear clothes like that and feel comfortable. I feel like I have to dress up all the time, no matter what. I don’t know… I- Nevermind.”

You look up at Rose and she pulls her eyes away from the road for a moment to give you a meaningful look. She nods sympathetically, her previous lightness replaced by understanding. She realizes the weight of this seemingly minor admission.

“I get it, I do.” She gives you a soothing smile. “I just hope you can feel comfortable here… with us. We like having you back, even if just for a moment.”

Still smiling, she turns back to the wheel with a light shrug. “Plus, this isn’t Canto Bight. You’ll look great no matter what.”

You groan, half sardonic, half-serious. “Oh, please don’t remind me. You know, I thought I was a vulture, but those people,” you give an audible shiver. “They’re something else.”

Rose laughs melodically. “Oh, do tell.”

______________

 The ride to the bar is short, the car only really needed for warmth, but the company is appreciated. Rose laughs along to your story of once attempting to cover for Kylo’s drunken rage in front of investors, and while it was a very unamusing situation at the time, you find yourself chuckling with her. 

“Well, that’s why we don’t let him have Bespin Fizzes anymore.”

Rose giggles at that, before piping up in her seat a little. “There it is!”

The bar comes into view just ahead, a familiar neon sign reading Kanata’s hanging overhead a small brick building. The parking lot is compact, but practically full, reminding you just how small the town is, as Kanata’s is the only real bar in the whole Base, and as such, is the town’s favorite happy hour hangout. 

She leans up the dashboard, pointing to an old, grey, junky Corellian that’s as familiar to the town as the bar. 

“There’s the Falcon,” she points out with a smile, though you don’t need her to tell which car it is. “They’re here.”

You nod, smiling at the old hunk of junk fondly, before suddenly realizing what the Falcon’s presence implies. She pulls up to the spot next to it as you turn to her.

“Wait, we’re getting drinks with Han? ” You try not to sound upset, only curious, but Rose reads your panic easily. 

“No, silly,” she giggles, and seems to dodge the question, stepping out of the car. You quickly follow behind, stepping out into the chill night air. Closing the doors, Rose rounds the car and you trail next to her, past the Falcon and towards the bar's entrance. She continues her explanation without you having to ask. 

“About five years ago, Han gave the Falcon away.”

“He gave it away? Why would he do that? To who?” 

She pushes open the door, leading you into the dimly lit bar, which you only now realize with its unfamiliar interior, that you never stuck around to be old enough to actually enter it. The lights are low, yellow and red, but not unwelcoming, in fact creating a warm atmosphere. It’s brightest around the bar itself, with neon and string lights, as patrons sit on the stools, chatting over the low playing jukebox on the far side of the room. Near it are a couple of pool tables, busy with players in the middle of games. A few locals drink in booths against the walls, however Rose leads you towards the high tables and stools in the middle of the room. You’re scanning the bar for anyone you recognize when you finally see where she’s leading you– to the only couple occupying the tables, and your heart drops into your stomach as your fight or flight instinct kicks in. 

“To them!” Rose points but once again you don’t need her helpful hand to see what you need to.

At the table is a girl you don’t recognize with a sweet face and dark hair, but it’s the familiar face next to her that makes you want to run.

Finn, your old classmate, but more importantly your old employee, sits smiling and laughing, casual as anything. You knew Finn left First Order – on very bad terms, one would be remiss to forget – after a fateful trip home for somewhere less cutthroat and competitive, but you thought that meant somewhere like Alderaan. You didn’t think he’d come back, and you certainly didn’t think you’d actually see him here.  

Rose doesn’t notice your hesitation, continuing to pull you forward and calling out to her friends. She catches their attention, waving, and you brace for the moment of impact. 

Finn is going to be mad that you’re here. He’s going to be furious. He’s going to stand up and yell at Rose about how awful of a person you are and make sure nobody in this town will even so much as smile at you ever again. He’s going to laugh in your face and tell you to go back to Coruscant and you’ll do it because you’re so deeply embarrassed.

The girl turns first, smiling and waving back at Rose. She grins brightly at you as well, obviously unfamiliar but still friendly. Finn turns second with an easy expression, glancing at you briefly before doing a double-take. His face falls, but not into anger like you expect. It drops to confusion, like he’s making sure it’s you, which then turns into half-smug disbelief, a bewildered smile taking over his features. 

Finn speaks first. “No-freaking-way.”

Tension still wracks your body as he steps off the stool, meeting you and Rose in front of the table. Rose looks between the two of you before dropping your hand and covering her eyes.

“Oh my God, I totally forgot about the whole…” She looks to you apologetically, not towards Finn, which confuses you. “I’m so sorry I forgot to say.”

“No, I- it’s okay. I just hope I’m not intruding.” It seems that this town just loves to leave you at a loss for words.

Finn laughs, seemingly completely at ease. “Not unless you’re here to talk about work. Or to try to win me back.”

“God, no. Not that we wouldn’t love to have you back but,” you glance quickly at the friendly girl still sitting at the table, obviously confused. “I understand that you’re much happier here.”

“That I am.”

“Then that’s all I care about.”

Rose absolutely buzzes with energy at the exchange. “Yay! So we’re all still friends and everything?” Her hands are clasped and her hopeful eyes flicker back and forth between the two of you. 

You turn your gaze back to Finn, hoping that you look as genuine as he does. “I hope so.”

“I don’t see any reason why not,” He smiles warmly at you, offering his hand. “Besides, you weren’t exactly the one that left me with a bad taste in my mouth.”

You take his hand easily, and just barely manage to quell your surprise when he uses it to tug you into a warm hug. The recent bombardment of hugs you’ve received in the past few days is the only thing that gets your arms moving properly, wrapping loosely around Finn for a moment before you part. 

As you pull back, an awkwardness comes to hang in the air as a silence settles between the four of you. You suddenly remember the girl at the table seemingly the same moment that Finn does. He pipes up, turning towards her and half leading you to the table where they were sitting. 

“Right, uh, Rey, I’d like you to meet an old friend of mine.” 

You extend a hand and introduce yourself to the woman, Rey, and she lets out an awkward laugh as she takes it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I was a bit, erm, hesitant to intrude on the moment. Seems like there’s a lot of history going on here.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Finn laughs before his nose scrunches up in thought. “Actually, you might have some idea. You know the place I used to work before we met?”

Rey’s face twists in disgust. “You mean that awful tech company? God, you couldn’t stop talking about how awful it was for almost a year. Must’ve been terrible. Did you work there too?” 

She looks to you as your cheeks heat up and you can't help the grimace that creeps into your expression. “I actually still do.” 

Finn opens his mouth but Rey beats him to it. “Oh no, that must be awful. What do you do? Get yelled at all day by some tall blonde woman like Finn did?” She chuckles at her own joke, but she’s the only one. Finn and Rose look like they’d rather be anywhere else. Probably at the bar. With strong drinks. Yet, you feel a chill indifference wash over you. The one you feel whenever you walk through the doors of the First Order offices and meetings. 

“Actually I’m the COO.”

Rey’s jaw slackens with the shock, mouth starting and stopping any words she attempts to get out. “I… I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.” Finn has his head fully in his hands and Rose looks like she might die. But you smile softly.

“It’s okay. I’ve heard far worse before. From people whose opinions were far more important.”

The urge to storm out tugs at your gut but your feet stay planted. It’s strange. You’re not quite sure what emotion it is that you’re feeling exactly. There’s anger, but it’s the blow to your pride that fuels it. There’s certainly embarrassment. Mostly, you realize it’s guilt. Guilt that the company you worked so hard to build has hurt people - people that you care about. You knew it happened, probably every day, probably right at this moment, but being faced with the conversations that people must be having behind your back… It hurts. It hurts in many directions. 

“Drinks!” Rose chirps loudly, desperate to break the tension. “I’ll go get us some drinks!”

She spins on a dime and immediately heads towards the bar. Looking between you and Rey, Finn gulps. “She’ll probably need some… help with those…” He’s immediately out of his chair and trailing behind Rose. 

Rey sits quietly, a thoughtful look on her face as you finally take a seat on the stool across from her. The silence hangs for a moment as the jukebox croons quietly in the background. 

“I really didn’t mean it that way,” Rey starts quietly. “It’s just…” She leans towards you, elbows resting in front of her on the table. Her eyes are earnest, kindness pouring forth. “Finn was miserable when we met in Jakku. Work was stressing him out to no end, but mostly… he felt like he was hurting people. He had a stable and successful job but… what did it cost him? All he ever wanted to do was help people.” She sighs, and a small smile tugs at her lips. “I like to think I helped him, but really, he knew all along what he had to do. I’m so grateful that we’re both here now, working with the kids, helping people where it feels like it really matters. I can’t speak for you, but it sounds like you’re proud of your company, and I’m glad but… It just wasn’t right for Finn. I hope I haven’t offended you.”

You’re momentarily stunned by her small speech. Not just the words but her honesty. You can tell from the tone of her voice just how much she cares for Finn and how much she believes in their cause. You find a small stain on the table, gazing at it intensely in thought. You’ve just wanted to help people too, all your life, but making something of yourself always came first it seemed. You told yourself you were helping people, creating new things that made so many people’s lives easier, donating intensely to charities, but how many people were you hurting on the way? How many times can you tell yourself that some eggs must be cracked to make an omelette? How many people have you screwed over, blackmailed, and outright stolen from? How many shady people have you bought from or sold to? How many things have you ignored or swept under the carpet just to keep business running as usual?

“If it helps… Finn always spoke highly of you.” 

You look up as Rey draws you out of your thoughts, something she obviously picks up on going by her smile. 

“Well… He’s a good man. A good friend before he was an employee… I didn’t mean what I said either - about your opinion not mattering. That’s not true, I just…” You trail off, but look up to find comfort and forgiveness in her warm expression. You give her a small genuine smile of your own. “Maybe we should just start over.”

You extend a hand, introducing yourself and she does the same, laughing lightly as she does so. At that moment, Rose and Finn come shuffling over, each balancing a tray with a few colorful drinks and rounds of shots. Placing the trays on the table, Finn eyes your smiles and parting hands. 

“Are you guys… Is everything good now?”

You nod, laughing. “Yes, I think we just got off on the wrong foot.”

“And we’re just here to have a good time and hang out - no work talk.” Rey winks at Finn. He lets out a hearty laugh, clapping you two on the back. 

“Oh, you two are good.”

“Actually, there’s one more thing,” Rose cuts in. She looks absolutely tickled pink, poorly suppressing her roguish grin. Finn and Rey raise an eyebrow in unison, seemingly used to this behavior. 

Rose giggles, “I invited Poe!” 

You instantly feel your heart rate pick up and a gentle heat rise in your cheeks, but it seems your the only one excited about this development. Rey only sighs with an unamused laugh. Rolling his eyes, Finn shakes his head, “That’s not exactly a surprise.” He turns to you. “She invites him out every time. And every time he says no. ‘Too busy.’”

“He never just relaxes,” Rey chimes in. “We’re constantly inviting him out, even inviting ourselves into the shop occasionally, but he’s just so dedicated to his work. It’d be admirable if it wasn’t so annoying.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Rose waves her hands around, as if attempting to dispel the negative comments in the air before they reach you. “BUT… I told him a certain special someone was gonna be here!” 

Finn and Rey both turn to you, Rey holding an expression of curiosity and Finn looking at you with new eyes, the gears turning almost visibly in his head. Did she mean you? Everyone seems to be looking at you expectantly so… she must be. Sure, Poe seems to like you well enough but… This is behavior that seems to have been going on for years. How could your presence possibly change that?

“Wh- Me?” You ask, turning to Rose at a sudden loss for words. “Why- What makes me special?”

Rose rolls her eyes so hard her head can’t help but follow. “You are so oblivious. And so special.”

Finn nods, with a grin you can only describe as ‘shit-eating.’ 

“Of course.” He bites his lip deviously. “This is gonna be so fun.”

“Really wha-”

You’re cut off by the sound of the blowing snow and wind as the door creaks open behind you. As if on cue, each of your heads swivel to the entrance to see the door swinging shut behind Poe shaking the snowflakes out of his hair, cheeks ruddy from the outside cold. He looks up from tugging his gloves off to see the four of you gawking at him. If he can tell he just walked in on a discussion of himself, he doesn’t show it. He practically beams at the four of you, but lets his eyes settle on yours.

“Hey guys.”

“This is gonna be so fun,” You hear Finn whisper behind you. 

You fail miserably at trying to hide your smile, but you know it’s for the best. 

______________

 “God, I know it’s embarrassing but... that’s so funny.” Rey chuckles with red cheeks, thoroughly amused.

“But it’s so embarrassing,” You exclaim, a little louder than you’re usually comfortable with but the drinks you’ve been slowly consuming for the past two hours have loosened your tongue just a bit. 

Finn continues to shake his head in laughter. “I do love your mom, though. I wanna thank her for that one. A proper Base welcome.”

“C’mon, it really wasn’t so bad,” Poe laughs. 

Once he’d arrived, everyone made quick work of getting him a drink and dragging over a stool, planting him firmly and snuggly between you and Rose. Small pleasantries and catching up eventually turned into you and Poe recounting the previous night's dinner and conversation at the strong behest of the rest of the group. It mostly consisted of you complaining and apologizing to Poe and him simply laughing it off, attempting to placate your worries. Finn, Rey, and Rose simply watched in entertainment, soaking up every juicy detail. 

“Really, you have to stop beating yourself up about it. You’ll drive yourself insane.” Poe places a hand on your shoulder, sending a little shiver of electricity through your body that you desperately try to curb. You look down at his hand on your shoulder and are struck with the desire to see it as often as possible. Meeting his eyes, they are warm and kind and cause you to immediately lose whatever it was you were going to just say. You are now very aware of just how buzzed you are. 

“I’ll… I’ll try.” You give him a small smile and he accepts it readily, his own smile growing. Over your shoulder, Finn must catch his eye because he swiftly turns his head back to his drink on the table and clears his throat. His hand gives you a small pat and quickly retreats back to his lap. His hand makes a loose fist and you miss its warmth. 

“Well,” Rose starts. “It’s getting late and I am so beat. I should get going.” 

Rose gives a meaningful glance at Finn and Rey, “Isn’t it a school night? You guys should get going too. Don’t want to have to show a video tomorrow.”

Finn’s eyes widen a bit and Rey nods fervently. 

“Yes, absolutely. You’re so right, Rose.” Finn begins standing up from his stool. “C’mon, Rey, we should be off.”

Those fucking conspirators. You know you should be grateful - they’re trying very hard to set you up with your high school crush - but all you can feel is panic. You’re an expert at talking to people, from brokering deals to conducting yourself in interviews and even giving presentations, you’ve trained and practiced in the art of discussion. But for some reason, just being in the same room as Poe makes your brain short circuit. Your mind constantly pulls back and forth whether to close off and shut him out or loosen up and actually let him in. It’s barely been three days but it feels like so much longer. And that’s terrifying.

“Uh-Wh- Are you guys okay to drive?” You sputter.

Finn sends you a reassuring smile as he grabs Rey by the shoulders, “Rey might not be in any state to drive, but I’m totally fine. I’ve had maybe two drinks in the past couple hours. Don’t worry.” 

Rose is off her stool too, gathering her coat. “Could you maybe drop me off too? I’d just walk but it’s so damn cold.”

“No problem, Rose.”

“What about me? I’m supposed to walk then?” You interject, flustered. “Rose, you drove me here.”

Rose gives an exaggerated look of cluelessness, giving you a shrug before looking over at Poe.

Breaking his momentary silence, Poe gives you a nod. “Yeah, I can give you a ride if you want.” 

You can only nod along. “Yeah, that sounds good. Thank you.”

Rose lets out a little squeal, scrambling over to give you a kiss on the cheek and skip out the door, calling out goodbyes over her shoulder. You can’t help but roll your eyes and laugh along with Finn and Rey, both of them giving you and Poe sidehugs before taking their exit as well. 

As the doors swing shut and the silence between you settles, you glance around at the bar. There are about half as many people as there were a few hours ago but the place doesn’t feel empty by any means. The few patrons still mill about, some playing pool, some chatting at the bar. You sigh contently at the sight, something Poe catches as he watches you.

“Good to be home?”

You look over, momentarily studying his handsome features in the warm lights as you try to figure out how to answer his question. 

“I don’t know. Like I said before, it’s not really home. And yet it is.”

He nods, thinking for a second. “But are you happy to be here?”

You eye him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m starting to be.”

“Well, I’ll drink to that.” He grins, holding up his bottle. You meet his with your own, both taking a swig with a smile.

As you settle your drinks back on the table, Poe leans over with a lowered voice. Your pulse thrums in your veins. “You know, I actually had a great time last night, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

You sigh with chagrin, momentarily closing your eyes to rub at the spot between your brows. 

“Well, I’m glad you had so much fun at my expense.” 

Poe leans away, shutting his eyes in his own embarrassment. 

“That’s not what I meant, I’m sorry.”

You chuckle lightly, a sound that gets Poe to open one eye before breaking into a smile, laughing with you. He leans in again, still smiling but a serious tone overtakes him.

“I really understand if you don’t want to talk about it but… What was your mother talking about… with Ben?”

You feel like a bucket of water has been dumped on you, ruining the easy-going mood you’d let slowly wash over you for the past few hours, but when you look at him, you can’t help but want to tell him everything.

“I just… I’ve only heard bits and pieces about what happened after you graduated. You really… disappeared.”

“Not disappeared,” you say quietly, with grit in your voice. “They just started paying attention to me somewhere else.”

“I paid attention to you,” Poe murmurs. When you catch his eye, he corrects himself. “I mean, we all did.”

You smile sadly, “Yeah, this is different.”

Poe gently knocks your shoulder with his, making you let out a snicker. Glancing over, Poe levels you with a genuine look, with soft eyes and a smile. “I get the feeling you don’t talk about your life often. So, tell me about it.”

He’s right. You never talk about your life, you certainly never regale your story to whoever asks. Doing that requires you to be vulnerable, it requires self-reflection and introspection. It requires you to think about things that you’ve long locked away inside. But… 

“Well, I’m not sure how well you remember, or if you ever noticed but… no one ever really talked to me. Then one day, Ben did. No one ever really talked to him either, so we made a fast pair. He was odd... but he was a real friend to me. I wouldn’t have traded that for anything.”

Poe nods understandably, encouraging you to keep going. 

“We decided to stick together. We got into Imperial University together and got out as quickly as we could. Neither of us… We couldn’t stay here, not with what we planned on doing with our lives. This town… it just wasn’t for us.”

“Yeah, I hear that a lot. I get that, too.” Poe takes a drink.

“You do?”

He laughs softly. “Yeah, but that’s a story for another time. Keep going.”

“We learned at school that we worked really well together. Our mentor Snoke realized that, too. He led us, taught us, molded us. He helped us build our company, First Order Tech. He was our first investor, he still sits on the board of directors. Kylo… Ben may be the CEO, but Snoke is still in charge of both of us to this day. It’s our company, we created it from the ground up but… We still bow to him.”

You shake your head. Time for the hard part. Might as well get it out quick and easy.

“Somewhere along the way… I don’t know if it was love. It wasn’t love how it should be - I can tell you that. But, Ben and I… were together. And then he proposed. I don’t think it was because he wanted to. I think he just thought… he was supposed to. Just the natural progression of our lives, I guess.”

You don’t realize you’re crying until the teardrops reach your chin, where they hang heavily before dropping onto your lap. You quickly wipe them away, as Poe once again places a hand on your back, but this time it stays there, his thumb rubbing comfortably back and forth.

“You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to. It’s okay.”

“I just,” You sniffle, wiping your nose. Way to break down just as he was warming up to you, kiddo. “I’ve never talked about this before, not really. I don’t even think I’ve ever cried over this before.”

“Anyway, I somehow became lucid enough to call it off a few months before the wedding.” 

You sniff wetly and press the backs of your hands to your eyes, your makeup no doubt ruined by now. Poe’s thumb keeps its motion.

“I just wanted it so bad,” Your voice cracks. The lump that had been caught in your throat breaks free in the form of a sob. “I let myself be blind because I…”

Your hands are shaking and tears run freely down your face.

“I wanted to be loved. And I thought that’s how I would get it. But I woke up.” 

You drop your hands onto the table, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You clench your fists and your voice no longer trembles.

“And I’m glad I did. We’re both better people for it.”

Only now do you chance a look at Poe. You had kept your gaze down, too scared to find what his expression might be, too scared to read his thoughts on his face. But his hand had stayed planted, comforting you. That had to mean something, right?

Looking up, you see only his warm gaze that had assured you deeply enough to get you talking in the first place. It carries a sadness, a kind of worry in the crease between his slightly upturned brows. But you find no disgust. No pity. 

“I wish I knew what to say.”

You chuckle wetly, “You don’t have to say anything. I understand that it’s a lot.”

His hand makes a broad stroke across your back as he leans in once again. 

“There’s actually a lot of things I want to say, but I’m sure you’d hate all of them considering they all sound like condescending things your mom has probably said to you over the years.”

A genuine laugh bubbles out of you at this, a bright smile pulling up your wet mascara stained cheeks. Seeing this, Poe can’t help a smile of his own.

“Things like ‘you’re so brave’ and ‘you poor thing’?” You giggle.

He chuckles, “Yeah something like that, the usuals.”

“Well thank you for sparing me.”

“No problem.” He pauses for a moment. “But really, thank you for telling me.”

He sounds like he means it.

“Thank you for listening, Poe.”

And so do you.

You sit like that just for a moment, gazing at each other. You take in the small details, admiring the creases around his eyes, the shape of his jaw, the curls in his hair. He seems to be taking you in as well, his eyes flickering across your features. You see them linger on the stains of your cheeks, turning your head away subconsciously. 

“Ready to go?” He asks softly. 

You smile and nod, wiping at your nose with your sleeve. “Yeah, I think I’m ready.”

You wobble just a bit as you get up from your seat, but Poe’s hand is still there to steady you. It stays there as you walk to the door. Stepping out into the cold, you instinctively huddle against him, a move he readily accepts as you walk.

“I’m not always a sad drunk, I promise.”

You feel the rumble of his chest as he laughs gently at your small joke.

“Don’t worry. I believe you.”

The ride is comfortably silent, except for the low hum of the radio as you drive. Pulling up to your house, you want to say something, do something, to thank him for what he did tonight. For driving you home, for listening to you and comforting you as you practically sobbed in his arms, for coming to the bar at all, supposedly just because you were there. 

But you don’t do anything.

“I’ll see you around,” is all you say. 

You hear him swallow as he nods. “Yeah, I’ll… I’ll see you.”

When you finally slink upstairs and collapse in your bed, you still feel the phantom touch of Poe’s hand across your back. 

-

notes: Whew! Thank you SO much for reading and thanks to all the people who stuck around! It’s been such a long and hard year and I hope everyone is doing okay. I’m determined to make this year great and I hope you all will join me!

I understand it’s been forever so if you’re on the taglist and would like to taken off it, hit me up and I’ll totally understand - and if you’re not on the taglist and would like to be leave a reply or send me a message! love you all <3

taglist: @ikbenplant @jamesdeerest​​ @fortheloveoflamp @operation-spot @asianravenpuff @whovianayesha @ultrunning @nowheredreamer @honestlyjustwow​ @badwolf-212 (for some reason i can never tag you properly :( ) 

[sunflowergirl522]

Legally Blonde 7: Take it Like a Man

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Just a legally blonde AU with you starring as Elle Woods. Based on both the movie and musical.

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2009

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Bucky throws his case file onto the table and rips off his tie while sitting down. You try to hold back your tears as you lean against the table next to him. 

“Bucky, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need you to be sorry, I need you to tell me the alibi.” He’s exasperated and he’s directing it at you even though the majority of it wasn’t because of you. He knows that he’ll regret it later but right now it can’t be helped.

“Well I can’t because I gave Natasha my word. Having an alibi is not the only way to win this case.”

“No but it sure would help!” 

“Work with me, we can free Natasha the right way, the noble way.”

“This is not a lifetime original movie Y/n. I’m not interested in nobility right now, I’m more interested in saving her life!”

“No you’re not! You’re more interested in impressing Pierce.”

“Well he is my boss if I impress him, he’s gonna make me associate.”

“By jeopardizing your clients trust in our integrity!” Bucky is left speechless at that and scoffs while trying to find words to say.

“Well when you put it that way.”

“Exactly! You butthead.” You shove his shoulder and go back to casually leaning on the table, getting out of your defensive stance. “My word means something, and I know yours does too.”

“No one’s called me butthead since the third grade.”

“Maybe not to your face.” You both hold eye contact with serious faces before breaking into laughter. “C’mon let’s get outta here.” You lead the way out of the building and to your car which you both arrived in together.

“Why do you always have to be right?”

“I don’t have to be when I’m with you I just am.” You start to drive off once you're both situated in the car.

“Where are we going?” Bucky asks when you miss the turn to go to your dorm.

“You wanna impress Pierce? I can help.”

“Okay, how?” You park the car and turn to look at him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Listen, I love your scruffy vibe but casual Friday isn’t in Pierce’s vocabulary. You gotta look the part if you wanna get ahead.”

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you about not judging a book by its cover.” Bucky gets out and begins to follow you.

“She did but I also know that books with tattered covers stay on the shelf.” Once your at the entrance you turn to face him.

“Oh thanks a lot.”

“This isn’t a perfect world. You think I haven’t been judged my whole life, you think it wasn’t a good idea to make navy my new pink?”

“No, that was a good idea.”

“I know.”

“Where are we exactly?”

“You trust me don’t you?” Your tone suddenly turns serious and Bucky begins to get suspicious.

“Of course.” 

“Then don’t stop now.” You both enter in and Bucky stops as he looks around. “Welcome to a department store. Take a deep breath and let it all in Buck.” Bucky looks at you when you use a nickname you’ve never used before. “Do you smell the pure oxygen they pump in? It’s because they care.”

“Love?” A worker comes up to Bucky and his head snaps to her thinking she's talking about them.

“Excuse me?”

“Love, the new fragrance from Chanel.” She goes to spray it on him but Bucky stops her once he gets a whiff of it.

“No thank you.”

“Think of the people you want to impress. I need you to swallow your pride for me Bucky, and just nod yes to me.” You start with trying a new tie on him. “Here you’ll become what you’re supposed to be, you think you can’t but you can. Think of the guy you want to be, this is your chance to make it, so take it like a man.” Bucky fixes his collar and the tie knot to how tight he wants it while you go speak to one of the workers.

Bucky can’t help but wonder what you want or why you guys can’t leave things the way that they were. He also can’t help but wonder why he can never say no to you while he walks over to you and the attendant. “What’s that smell?”

“Subtext by Calvin Klein.” A different attendant hands Bucky a sample of it before leaving.

“Alright, I’m gonna show you different shirts and you just tell me what you think.” The first shirt he sees is a blue one.

“That I don’t like.” A plain white shirt is next. “That’s kind of neat.” Bucky takes that one and under it is a shirt with a pink, white, and black geometric pattern. “Guys who wear that get beat up on my street.” You giggle at his comment before taking the shirt out of his hand and walking away. Bucky knows that he’s in your hands and that he can’t try to retreat into his shell now. You come back to him and show him a coat jacket and he nods and smiles at it. You push him to a changing room for him to try everything on.

“God, I love shopping for guys and watching them change right before my eyes.”

“Don’t watch me change.” Bucky sticks his head out and you wave your hand at him in a dismissive manner. 

“Your confidence is gonna grow, you’ll bloom like a rose.”

“Okay, this is nice.” He's referencing how you’re taking care of him. “Is this the price?”

“Don’t worry this is my treat. Now, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” You have him come out and stand in front of a mirror with you.

“Whoa.” You both speak at the same time.

“I look like Steve.”

“Yeah.”

“But it’s just me.”

“That’s the best part. The outside is new just now it reflects what’s already in you. I couldn’t change that if I wanted to. And I do not.”

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you. This is no gift, it’s payment in kind because you saw beyond all the blonde to my mind. We’ve got to buy this. What are you, blind. You look hot! You’ve become the guy you’re meant to be. Go get changed and I’ll go pay.”

Bucky can’t help but think of how this isn’t quite the guy he would’ve chosen to be. When he has you standing next to him so close he thinks he likes your plan. He’s glad he took it like a man when you hug him out by the car.

***

You’re sitting patiently as Wanda paints your nails before the trial. “I love this classy lawyer pink you chose Y/n. When those jury people see your nails, they’ll just know that they can trust you.”

“Which is more than what the team is doing. They are all over me to give up Natasha’s alibi.”

“Even including your friend, Bucky?” Wanda puts emphasis on friend trying to hint at the feelings you both have for each other.

“Well he’s on the team too.”

“Ya, and in more ways than one.” Wanda mutters under her breath and screws the cap onto the polish. “Are you sure you don’t want me to paint little gavals on them?”

“That’s fine Wanda, I think that might be a bit too much. And don’t think I didn’t hear you, Bucky is just my friend.”

“Well I could sure use a friend like that.” Right after she says that the delivery man that comes by so often walks in the door.You nudge Wanda's foot under the table to get her to look.

“I’ve got a package. Where’s Wanda Maximoff?”

“Oh my god.” Wanda whispers while whipping around to fce you instead of him.

“He’s coming over here.”

“Hey there, name’s Sam I’ve got a package for you. Kinda cool karma isn’t it?” Wanda freezes and you tap her on her shoulder to get her to snap out of it. When that doesn’t work Sam turns to you to sign for her. Wanda just sits there stuck staring at him and offers up a smile. “How ya doin’ today?”

“Fine.” Sam then leans down and places the box at Wanda’s feet while keeping eye contact.

“Take it easy.” Sam then struts out of the building.

“Maybe you’ll get a friend sooner rather than later.”

“Oh, come on, I can barely talk to him. I’ve got nothing to offer and he’s like walking porn.”

“Oh, please you have the right equipment, you just need to read the manual. Here, I’ll show you a little maneuver that my mom taught me in junior high. In my experience it has a ninety eight percent success rate of getting a man's attention and, when used appropriately, it has eighty three percent rate of return on a dinner invitation.”

“Wow.”

“It’s called the bend and snap.” You stand up and go into the middle of the room to show her. “I think I dropped something on the floor that I need to pick up. So you bend down and snap! See?” Wanda nods at you and you wave your hand to get her to get up. “Come on. You try it.” Wanda tries to do it and doesn’t have it down which is okay. “A little less bend, a little more snap.”

You eventually get everyone in the salon to start to do the bend and snap. “Good job everybody!”

“Oh my god the bend and snap! Works every time!” Peter Quill, a hair stylist comes out of the back to see everyone doing it.

You hang out at the salon until Wanda is done with work and then go to her place for a few hours. By the time you leave to walk home it’s starting to get dark.

“I called your room last night.” You see Thor talking to two girls and as you pass you can hear their conversation.

“I heard.”

“I was thinking maybe we could go out sometime.”

“No. You’re a dork who’s always going off about a mythology no one cares about.” The girls both laugh and you pause.

“I’m in law school.”

“Look, I'm not gonna go out with you. I can’t believe you’d even ask. Girls like me don’t go out with losers like you.” Your heart hurts at how she’s talking to the biggest softie you’ve ever met. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Excuse me.” You turn around and march up to Thor and slap him. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“What?”

“We spent a beautiful night together, and then I never hear from you again?”

“I…” Thor looks at the two girls and then back to you. “I’m sorry?”

“Sorry for what? For breaking my heart, or for giving me the greatest pleasure I’ve ever known and then just taking it away?”

“Uh, both?”

“Well forget it. I’ve already spent too many hours crying over you.” You then turn and walk away with a smile on your face as you hear the girl ask him when he wanted to go out.

***

“And where was she exactly?” The other lawyer asks Lila, Clint Barton's daughter.

“Standing over my father’s dead body.” 

They pull the pool boy to the stand next.

“Mr. Wilson, can you tell us what this is?” She holds a thong out to show him.

“My uniform.”

“This is the uniform that Mrs. Barton asked you to wear while cleaning her pool?”

“Yes.”

“And are you or are you not having an affair with Natasha Barton?”

“Define affair.”

“Have you and Mrs. Barton had sexual relations?”

“Yes. Okay? Yes.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, court will reconvene tomorrow morning at nine A.M. We’re adjourned.” Natasha stands up angry and turns to talk to you.

“You know a Delta Nu would never sleep with a man who wears a thong.”

“Never!”

“I just liked watching him clean the filter.” The police guard starts to pull Natasha to the door.

“I know.”

“Take care of me Y/n.”

“I will.”

[goddessofthundathighs]

Happy early birthday to my twin @panthergoddessbast! Always remember that I love you immensely! 😘

—————————————

VI. THREE-HEADED MONSTER

The sexual tension on the ride back to O'Shea's house was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Erik could feel the way her eyes bore into the side of his face, her stare unrelenting. She wanted more, but he still didn't think she deserved it. She was gonna have to work for the dick, no matter how many times her hand brushed against his hardening third leg.

"What are you doing, Ms. Powell?" he asked, his eyes never leaving the road.

"I was a good girl at dinner. I think I deserve a treat."

"You got one in the bathroom, don't be greedy Princess." This made Shea pout, but she was determined to make him break.

"Please Daddy?" she tried again, sliding her perfectly manicured coffin nail up his thigh.

"O'Shea, I said no," he scolded firmly causing her to recoil slightly.

"No?" she inquired, her eyebrow raised in confusion. Being the spoiled Daddy's girl she was, no wasn't a word she was used to hearing. Erik noticed her change in demeanor and decided to exploit the situation.

"Yes, I said no, Bianca. Any other questions?" She huffed loudly, turning her body back to face the windshield.

"First of all, I'm an adult and you will address me as such. You're going to give in eventually. That tent in ya pants will need to be handled somehow."

"I have Skylar for that," he added just to antagonize her further.

"Nice try, but Skylar is a lesbian."

"Skylar is just like you, she doesn't give a fuck who eats her pussy, I'm just the only man she lets do it," he replied with a shit-eating grin. O'Shea remained silent the rest of the ride to her place, not even bothering to give him a look back as she walked up to her door and into the house. He couldn't exactly explain why, but he loved getting her riled up the way he had. He loved seeing the fire in her eyes when she was angry at him. It made his dick even harder and the dormant beast within him began to come to life.

Let me have a taste, the beast growled.

"Soon, big fella. Soon," he told himself. Little did O'Shea know he had his own Bennie, and Killmonger was an expert brat tamer.

--

"Why in the fuck would you tell her that? She should've punched your ass," Skylar fussed from her seat behind Erik's desk. She was on the computer, her long nails tittering away on the keyboard as she worked on an informative pamphlet for her own clients.

"The three major components of the cognitive-behavioral approach are: (a) replacement of sexual anxiety with sexual comfort; (b) adopting positive sexual attitudes and learning sexual skills; and (c) a program of individually designed sexual exercises to be done between therapy sessions. The goal of this therapy is to develop a comfortable, functional, and satisfying sexual style... How does that sound," she asked aloud.

"Like you copied and pasted it from a generic article but it serves its purpose and describes what we do. I might just change the name of the practice to mine and steal your pamphlets."

"I don't think so," Skylar mumbled printing multiple pamphlets before ejecting her drive.

"You couldn't do that in your office?" Erik teased watching her lips purse in indignation.

"I could've but I was already here," she replied, taking a sip from her caramel macchiato. "So how are things going with you and Shea?"

"Oh the usual, however, I think we're making progress with her attitude. She's starting to learn that acting out and misbehaving gets her nothing but blue balls."

"I don't think women can get blue balls, but go off I guess."

"Shut up you know what I meant, nigga," he replied, blowing the wrapper of his straw in her direction. The pair shared a laugh before Erik grabbed his leather notebook from the desk drawer.

"I need help coming up with the next method I want to try with her. She's the ideal candidate for experimental therapies. We can really take this thing as far as it goes with her. Hypnotherapy was successful, I've taken thorough notes on that session after watching the footage a few times. And the toy. The toy did exactly what it was designed to do. However, it's not just toys and hypnotism. I've found that engaging her in non-sexual ways are just as effective to bring out her little personalities.

"Oh, so you met them already." Sky leaned forward interested in where the conversation was headed.

"I've tapped into her Little behavior and experimented with some of her kinks. Buttercup is the Little and she appears whenever she feels that I'm upset with her. There are layers to that psychologically that I'd like to examine."

"Hmm," Skylar nodded intrigued.

"Bianca is the brat you and I are used to."

"Too used to it." Skylar's eyes roll.

"She's obviously triggered by the word 'No' and tends to act out when she doesn't get her way. She's also fairly easy to contain... Bennie-"

"You don't need to tell me about Bennie, I work in a sex shop. Bennie comes to work every day."

"I'm kinda stuck now... I have all of this leeway yet I can't decide which method to use next. When I look at her I see endless possibilities. Since you know her, what do you suggest?"

"How about you do some type of exercise in which you bring all of her little personalities to the surface? Get her high."

"Seriously? That's it?"

"Yeah. You'd be amazed at what you'll learn from her when she's under the influence." Erik rubbed his chin as he pondered the thought.

"But you know how I get when I'm high, Sky," he said, sending a sly grin her way.

"Boy get your slick ass away from me. Save the bedroom eyes for O'Shea, thanks."

"On some serious shit though, how do I go about asking her to the crib? That violates all types of rules and crosses all types of barriers."

"Well technically it doesn't because it's possible to file it under intensive in-home services," she chuckled.

"Sky..."

"Okay, seriously working with the client in their home is not out of the ordinary. Don't make this weird."

"Aight, so you think we should do this at her crib since I've already been there before?"

"Yes. Her home is easier to justify on paper since it's familiar territory and she'll be more relaxed in her own space versus yours."

"Yo smart ass! That's why I keep you around," he said kissing her forehead repeatedly.

"I thought it was because I rolled the best weed but both compliments will do."

"You know I love you girl. That reminds me, you still got that dispensary connect in LA?"

"Maybe, why? You tryna get some specialty shit?"

"Yes, ma'am. Something that will ease her mind and body and allow her to open up to me."

"I know just the thing. It's called Green Goddess."

"Ooh, sounds exotic. I need two ounces."

"$2500."

"You know my account info. Get it for me and bring it by. Oooh, bring some In & Out too. And Cold Stones."

"Nigga is O'Shea the female in this situation or you?"

"Hush woman and do what I say," he said with a sharp smack to her ass.

"Yes Daddy," she teased in a soft, Princess-like voice.

"Aye chill out, it's been a minute." Skylar's soft giggle rang throughout the hallway as she walked towards the entrance. He thought for a minute before typing a quick text to O'Shea.

Busy tonight?

Nah why?

Netflix and chill at your crib? I'll bring the bud and food.

You had me at bud. See you at 7.

"Spoiled ass," he chuckled as he put his phone away.

The rest of the work day went by smoothly and soon it was time to head to his patient's house. As usual, Skylar came through with the bud he requested and both his and Shea's favorite meals from In & Out and ice cream from Cold Stones.

"At this point, you owe me your life," Sky fussed from her desk. "Traffic was hell. There was an accident, a four-car pileup." She was working late due to Erik and his needy ways so she opted to facetime him as he made his way to O'Shea's house to make her frustrations known.

"I knew it would be something that's why I knew I wouldn't have the time or patience. But you know I always got you, ma. If all else fails, I'm marrying you."

"Choke on rocks," she pouted. "Always using me for the shit you don't wanna do. I'm getting a new best friend, one that respects how great I am and loves me for me."

"If it's a dude, I'ma kill him. Killmonger don't share."

"I ain't Killmonger's bitch," she countered. "And murder is very much so illegal. This ain't the Navy." He smiled, revealing his bottom row of gold. He cleared his throat before dropping his voice several octaves.

"You sure about that, ma?"

"Oh no, put the demon away."

"Nah, you said you were replacing us. You sure you wanna do that?"

"Unlike O'Shea, I can do what I want, but no sweetheart, I'd never replace you."

"Pinky promise and swear on Crip."

"On Crip, I'd never replace you and you know we don't lie on the hood."

"Aight we good. I'll call you later to let you know how things go." The pair shared their goodbyes and Erik exited his vehicle.

"You're early," O'Shea noted as she stepped back to let him in. The clock on the microwave read 5:30.

"Work was light and I figured I'd just go ahead and come over. Problem?"

"No. Is that Cold Stones?" She asked wide-eyed.

"Yes it is and no you can't have it."

"B-But why?" she pouted.

"Later, Bianca."

"How many times must I remind you that I am an adult?"

"Barely," he regarded with a smirk as he made his way to her kitchen. She followed him the whole way, pouting all the while as he pulled everything out of the bags.

"Fix ya face or you won't get any at all."

"That's not fair!" she pouted harder, folding her arms over her chest.

"Life isn't fair, Lil' Mama."

"This is some bullshit," she fussed as she walked to the couch.

"Bet. I'll keep this sweet cream and oreo shit to myself," he teased, noticing how her mouth dropped in shock. Erik's grin only widened as he walked over to the couch with their food and drinks.

"So what we watching, Bianca Boo?" he asked, reaching for the remote.

"First of all, my name is O'Shea."

"You're acting like a brat so your name is Bianca, now answer my question."

"Can we watch Hercules?"

"Fuckin' child," he mumbled as he pressed play on the movie. The couple ate, sang, and smoked as they breezed through their little Disney movie marathon. From Hercules to Mulan to The Emperor's New Groove they relived their childhoods while the Green Goddess indica worked its magic to mellow them both out and allow them to talk and bond on a more personal level. Several hours into the Disney and chill session, O'Shea figured she'd try her luck again. She noted how much more mellow Erik was when he was under the influence, using this opportunity to fully appreciate how good he looked dressed down. The charcoal gray turtleneck clung to his muscles effortlessly, barely covering the Patek Phillipe watch on his left wrist. His black slacks fit him well, as though they were tailor-made just for him. Her eyes remained glued to the bulge in his pants as he sat with his legs spread wide on the couch. O'Shea fought hard to keep herself from staring, but of course, Erik noticed. He had been watching her watch him for the last 20 minutes and the beast within him noticed too.

"You gone suck or just stare at it?" Killmonger growled, startling O'Shea from her shameless eyefucking. The deep timbre of his voice had her quaking and before he could change his mind, she dropped down to her knees in front of him, seizing her moment to strike him down to a base level of weakness. Surely he could not withstand her oral talent no matter what contenders he'd faced before. Skylar was a master of oral sex when it came to women, but O'Shea was the oracle when it came to men. She looked up at him innocently as she took him into her mouth, lightly teasing his tip with gentle licks before finally taking as much of him as she could down her throat. Though she was cursed with a gag reflex, she was still a master at her craft and the way he was moaning above her proved that she hadn't lost her touch. His stout, thick fingers found their way into her curly mane, lightly gripping her tresses to help guide her head up and down his shaft.

"Just like that, Shea. Grip that shit, stroke what you can't fit in that wet ass mouth," he encouraged. O'Shea moaned around his shaft, using his praises as encouragement to show out on the dick. She wasn't sure when she'd get him this loose again and wanted to make sure this experience was memorable. Just as she was finding her groove, he made the most awful sound above her.

"Ah, shit! What the fuck?!"

"Wait, stop moving!"

"That shit hurt, what the fuck did you just do to me?" In all of the 5 years that O'Shea had had her braces, never once had they gotten caught on anyone. Leave it to Erik Stevens to be the unlucky contender.

"I-I'm sorry, that's never happened before," she said fighting back her laughter. He was being more dramatic than the situation really called for.

"Oh, that shit's funny to you? I'm fucking bleeding."

"You're not, but ok," she said standing from her position on the floor.

"Man move," he fussed, rushing to the bathroom to assess the damages.

20 minutes. 20 whole minutes was how long he left her to her own psyche while he calmed down. He knew she didn't mean to do it, but the fact that she laughed is what really pissed him off. Once he composed himself, he walked out to see her back on the couch with her head down towards the floor. He didn't speak to her, only went to the kitchen to throw away the trash and grab his keys.

"So are you going to leave and not speak to me? I told you it was an accident."

"I know, Buttercup and I'm not upset. I just think it's a good idea to end this session where it is. I'll have Harper contact you about your next appointment. Have a good night." With that and a kiss to the back of her hand, he walked outside and back to his car, leaving O'Shea a confused, sad mess. She didn't do well with people being mad at her, especially at this point in her life when her little personalities were fully functioning entities. The buzz of her phone brought her out of her psyche.

"Daddy's sorry for the way he left you, Buttercup. I meant what I said about not being angry at what happened, but what really pissed me off is the fact that you thought it was funny."

"But you laugh at my pain all the time," she replied meekly, curling up into a ball on the couch.

"I don't laugh at your pain, I laugh at the fact that you think you run shit. How about this, let's meet somewhere and talk about it."

"Where?"

"Cold Stones."

"But I have ice cream in the freezer."

"Since when have you turned down more?"

"Touché. Give me 10 minutes." She quickly dressed, happy that he wasn't upset and that he still wanted to continue their therapy and build their potential relationship. Though he was indeed her therapist, she felt comfortable with him. More comfortable than she had felt with anyone in a long time and if she were being honest, it scared her. She hated how vulnerable she was around him having been so guarded for most of her life, yet she liked that she could be her true self without fear of judgment and ridicule for her behavior. The benefits of having him as her therapist outweighed her fears. He got her on a level that no one else had before, not even Sky.

Excitedly, she met him in the air-conditioned shop finding him with ice cream in hand. On her approach, he rested his palm atop her head as if to say welcome.

"So now I'm a dog?"

"Nah, you just small. Have a seat, baby girl." She sat down beside him and began eating the cold sugary concoction of sweet cream, chocolately brownie chunks, crumbled graham crackers and walnuts all drizzled with thick caramel. She bounced happily in her seat as the divine mixture set her tastebuds ablaze. This was one of her all-time favorite combinations and she was glad he'd remembered it to the smallest detail. He smiled as he watched her smiling and bouncing in her element, happy that she was happy. She was eating so fast that she dripped ice cream onto her chin and brand new royal purple Disney spirit jersey. She pouted, but he merely grabbed a napkin and cleaned her mess.

"Why the long face, Buttercup? I thought a messy little girl was a happy little girl."

"Sky just bought this for me, though. I didn't want to get it dirty. There's even a stain on Mickey." She turned her body slightly to show him the smudged caramel on the sparkly D emblem.

"Well that won't do, will it? You're welcome to take it off. You wouldn't want to spill again."

"But I'm not wearing another shirt," she pouted further.

"Less material to worry about. You should enjoy your ice cream freely. Do remove the shirt, Buttercup.. for your own good." She nodded, slowly lifting the sweatshirt over her head and laying it on the table. He grabbed and folded it neatly before placing it on the booth beside him. Now free from the constraints of the jersey, she tore into her ice cream like a woman starved.

"Doesn't that feel better? Your sweater is now safe from any harm and Daddy will worry about having it cleaned. That's not something a little girl should concern herself with."

"Yes Daddy, thank you," she said with a wide grin. It had been so long since she had been allowed to freely be in her little space, especially to this degree and it was nice to put the stresses and worries of adulting to the side, even if it were just for a little while.

"Um... I'm sorry sir, but um.. shirts are required in this establishment... Sorry..," the gangly scooper spoke nervously, obviously intimidated by his stature though he was not in his imposing state. The anxiety in the guy's eyes rubbed him the wrong way. Another negative profile. If that was the case while he wore a sweater and a name brand watch, he thought, the man deserved to feel fearful.

"Several pale skinned patrons are wearing sports bras and cropped bandeau tops, similar to my date's. Are you going to say the same to them?" Erik asked with a raised eyebrow watching the guy stammer in distress.

"I- It's just- Nevermind," the scooper stumbled, making his way back behind the counter. He started to pick up a phone, but when Erik made eye contact and mouthed a message, he put the phone back down.

"What did you say just now," O'Shea inquired, looking from the counter back to Erik's peaceful expression. The behavior of the scooper didn't match his face.

"Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about, Buttercup. Take your time. Finish your ice cream and we'll be on our way." O'Shea shrugged but continued to bounce happily as she ate her ice cream, even going as far as to ask Erik for another bowl for later. Because of the way he behaved earlier, he obliged.

"Whadya know, Buttercup! We got this one free."

"Yay!" she squealed, happily thanking the fearful scooper who nodded without eye contact.

"I-It was no trouble, really," he stuttered, eyes never leaving Erik's menacing scowl. As the couple turned to leave, Erik bucked at the young scooper, laughing loudly at the way he flinched, dropping a tower of ice cream all over himself.

"Damn, nigga. You need to lift weights or something," he smirked opening the glass door for O'Shea.

"Where do you wanna go now, Buttercup?" he asked as he brushed a rogue curl behind her ear.

"I wish it wasn't so late. I really wanna go to Disneyland." Erik checked his watch and noted that the park would indeed be closing soon.

"We can't get into the park, but Downtown Disney is still open."

"Ooh can we go to Salt & Straw?" she asked, bouncing on her toes.

"Buttercup you just had ice cream and got a free one to go. Not to mention you still have ice cream in the freezer from earlier."

"Yeah, but none of those were honey lavender with whipped cream and a waffle cone," she pouted.

'You're right, but considering the fact that I'm a doctor who also cares about your physical health, the answer is still no. You are sweet enough." She was upset but didn't protest further for fear that he'd just decide to take her back to her house. No matter how upset she was, Disney fixed everything. As the pair roamed the district, O'Shea's eyes grew wide watching Erik walk into to the Pandora shop. She'd been wanting new charms for her princess-themed bracelet forever, but never had the time or the extra funds to splurge on herself the way she wanted.

"How about I make my Buttercup something special?" he beamed down at her, rubbing circles into the small of her back.

"Oooh, what is it?" she asked happily.

"It's a surprise, but why don't you go get us two of those honey lavender cones and it'll be done by the time you get back."

"Ok!" she squealed happily, taking his card and running out of the store before he changed his mind again. It took her all of 10 minutes to go and come back with her half-eaten cone and his full one. Her grin was wide as she regarded Erik standing in front of the counter with both hands behind his back. His shit-eating grin was back like he knew he was that nigga. And at this moment, he was.

"Whatcha got back there, Daddy?"

"Just a little something for my second favorite princess," he replied stepping closer to her. "Close your eyes and hold out your left wrist." She quickly complied and her beaming grin grew even wider as she felt the cold metal against her skin.

"Alright, open." He watched smugly as her eyes opened and widened. Her heart was so full she thought it would burst. She hadn't even realized that he had slipped her princess bracelet off her wrist until she saw it in its complete form.

"You finished my bracelet?"

"Yes ma'am, chronologically just the way you had it and I started your villain one." Her fingers toyed delicately with the Tinkerbell and poisoned apple charms on the princess bracelet before moving to Maleficent and the Evil Queen charms on the villain bracelet. Then her eyes met his. She wanted to cry.

"Thank you so much, Daddy."

"Anything for my Buttercup. I even left off Anna and Elsa because I know those are the ones you like the least." Again, he'd remembered something seemingly frivolous solely because he knew it was important to her. She felt her little heart swell two sizes.

"You're the best, really." She rewarded him with a sweet kiss on the lips, which he deepened when he grabbed her chin and added a little tongue. Just enough to leave her wanting.

"Come on, pretty girl. Let's get you home, we both have work in the morning."

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