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readwritealldayallnight · 4 months ago

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Right With You (Part 3)

Captain John Price x Reader

wc: 6.7k words

(18+ MDNI) warnings/tags: fluff, mutual pining, tension, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, no protection (use protection kids!!), finishing inside🫣

You might have bitten off more than you could chew this time.

The sound of your heels clicking and clacking against the marble floor are completely drowned out by the din of the many hundreds of party goers mingling throughout the lavish ballroom, glasses clinking together in cheers, uproarious laughter bellowing out between songs being played by the live musicians. The outskirts of the room are difficult to maneuver without bumping into one another, as the centre of the space has been cleared for dancing.

You’ve been inside the target’s home for all of five minutes and you’re already feeling like you’re way in over your head. You know that amongst the elegantly dressed men and women, there are people here on your side, posing as guests but keeping an eye out for your safety. They’re connected to the comms, as are the approaching men of the 141, intent on finding their own way in as well.

You should really only be using your earpiece if you have no other choice, the whole point of this operation being to go as undetected as possible. If a scene can avoid being made altogether, all the better. You know better than anyone that if John the men hear you sounding anything other than confident over the line, they’ll be barging in, stealth be damned. Right now however, you’re almost wishing you could use it if only to get some help in spotting your target amongst all the moving faces.

Before either of you had even had the mansion in sight, John was directed to pull the car into the long queue of vehicles slowly making their way in the direction of the actual driveway. He’d sent you a glance in the rear view mirror, his eyes betraying the gears that were already beginning to turn in his mind. There might be more people in attendance tonight than expected.

“You’re trying to tell me all these people are also fashionably late?” You’d question, eyeing the long line of fancy cars in front of you, another one having already pulled in behind you. You were purposefully showing up several hours after the party began, the more guests there were there the easier you could blend in. And the later the party, the more intoxicated and distracted party goes would be. But this seemed like a lot of people to still be showing up considering the increasingly late hour.

“I think there might be a guest list we don’ know about.” He had gritted out, gripping the steering wheel with more force. “Or they’re lettin’ any fuckin’ muppet walk in-”

“John,” you’d cut him off. “It’s fine, this doesn’t change anything. Might just take me longer to spot him, but we’ll manage.”

“Gonna be harder for ‘em to keep sights on ya.”

“Well then when I need help I’ll be sure to wave a hand up in the air so they can see me.” You had attempted to joke, but you’d spotted the near imperceptible narrowing of his eyes in your direction. “John, they are there as a precaution. I won’t even need ‘em, you’ll see. What? Unless you don’t believe that I can seduce a man?”

Though he had only been moving at a snails pace with the cars still ahead of him, the mansion only then coming into view around the bend, John slammed on the breaks, lurching you forward ever so slightly at the sudden stop.

“Seducing is not your job tonight.” His knuckles had gone white he gripped the steering wheel so tight before he’d released his death grip, rubbing his eyes in exasperation. “You are a soldier, that’s the only job you’ll do tonight.”

“My superiors have asked me to sneak into a party, discreetly convince a man to follow me to a room alone together, and gave me this to wear as gear.” You emphasized, waving a hand down at your attire. He didn’t want to take the bait, but while you’re in that dress and close enough he can smell the sweet smell of your perfume, he’s a weaker man then he’d like to admit. He glanced down at your figure, admiring not of the first time tonight how utterly ravishing you appear.

You weren’t trying to complain, you yourself had agreed that the plan made sense, but you also wanted him to be realistic here. The expectation was that you were going to get the target alone, as subtly as possible, whatever means necessary. At the very least you were going to be flirting and flattering your ass off tonight.

Undoing your seatbelt, you’d sat on the edge of your seat, inching closer to John in the driver’s spot, leaning in until your painted lips were mere millimeters from his ear, a soft hand landing on his shoulder.

“Orders are orders, after all.” Your lips barely grazed the shell of his ear as you whispered to him, trying to disperse his worries with your teasing. “I would never want to disobey my Captain.”

He’d let out a long, deep sigh through his flared nostrils, the internal conflict within him raging on. You were right, as odd as the circumstances of this mission were, it was nothing more than exactly that, another mission. They’d each been tasked with a job to do, and he knew that as with everything you set your mind to, you’d blow them all away.

As a Captain, he had full confidence in you as a soldier. But as nothing more than simply a man, who so rarely in his life allowed himself to be selfish and do something for no reason other than his own self centred wishes, a man who could no longer deny the way he was falling madly, deeply, irrevocably in love with a woman, well that man despised tonight’s plan.

The extravagant front entry of the target’s home was now within sight, multiple footmen waiting by to open the doors to arriving vehicles, welcoming guests and taking names. John knew you didn’t have much longer now before he’d have to let you go.

One of his hands snuck up to reach for yours, still laying as a delicately as a butterfly perched on his shoulder. His fingers gave yours a squeeze, thumb gently stroking the soft skin of your inner wrist.

While the thought of anyone other than him having the privilege of seeing you dressed up to the nines, getting to chat you up, putting his hands on you all under the guise of a respectable dance, got his blood boiling, he could never, would never ask you to go against your job.

Not for him, not for anyone. You were more than capable and had earned your position on this team. He wasn’t going to allow his rose tinted glasses to cloud his judgement, not even when the animalistic, testosterone raging, possessive side of him was pleading for the opposite.

“Well then your Captain’s orders, my dear,” he says in a low voice, stretching your hand far enough to plant a kiss onto it, unable to help himself really. “Are to knock ‘em dead. Not literally though, we do have questions for ‘im.”

You offered him a genuine smile, hearing the playfulness returning to his tone. Begrudgingly releasing your hand from his hold, John steered the car directly in front of the door, the heavy tint of the windows concealing him from any prying eyes.

“Sooner I’m in, sooner I’m out.” You reassured him. “Maybe I’ll have time to save you a dance.” You added at the end, catching his eye on final time, returning his nod subtle nod in the mirror just as your door was opened for you. As the footman offered you his hand, helping you out of the car and shutting the door behind you, John kept is gaze trained on you, not driving away until he saw you disappear through the doors, already counting down the seconds until he had you with him again.

A fake name given at the door, slightly modified version of the guest list having been slipped into the security’s grip earlier that evening, and you were allowed into the party without a second glance. Getting in was never going to be the challenging part of this operation. The challenge now was in spotting your target amongst the crowd.

Having decided the ballroom would likely be the best place to start, seeing as this was where the most people seemed to be gathering, you slowly strolled through the swarms of dresses and suits, wondering to yourself just how many of these people were involved in illegal affairs, and how many were feigning ignorance to their hosts choice of career.

Plucking a drink off the tray of a passing waiter, you brought the glass to your lips, taking the opportunity to more carefully glance through the many unknown faces. You manage to hide your grimace when a scratching noise comes through your earpiece for a moment, before a familiar Manchester accent crackles instead.

“Bravo 7 to Rookie. We’re in.” Ghost informs you. “Second floor. East wing. Guest room by the library.”

“We’ll cover the west side. Aim at taking the office on that end.” You’re less subtle at covering up the small gasp that slips from your mouth at the sound of John’s voice coming through the line. Clearing your throat, you take a small sip of whatever liquid you’ve grabbed, spotting another strolling waiter, sauntering over to her.

“Good, thank you.” You say, returning your still nearly full glass to her, speaking more in response to the men chatting in your ear than to the confused looking woman, who still smiles politely and takes the drink from you.

Knowing that the 141 are inside now, you go over the blueprints again in your mind, picturing where they are, taking a deep breath to steel yourself as you continue your search. Continuously bumping elbows with everyone gathered on the edges on the ballroom, yours and many others heads turn when a large group of gathered men all burst into uproarious laughter. Scanning the faces of the well-dressed guests, you nearly do a double take, eyes landing on the face you’ve spent countless hours memorizing.

Your target is stood there, one arm holding onto his friends shoulder as he continues to laugh in the way only rich men with no problems can. He and his friends are evidently intoxicated, each with a drink in hand, if not two. The man stood directly in front of him is telling the apparently hilarious story, hands waving about as he animatedly gestures, alcohol sloshing out of his glass.

An idea comes to mind, and you see your opportunity present itself before you on a golden platter. Slipping through the crowd, you come around the other side, so that you’re walking in your target’s direction, in his line of sight. You purposefully slow down your gait, running a hand through your hair carelessly, eyes gazing about the room absentmindedly, you even slightly push your chest out, catching the man’s eye just as you come close to walking past his friend.

The drunk man continues to flail his arms and spill his drink carelessly, larger and larger spills landing on the marble floor. It looks purely accidental to anyone watching when you attempt to walk by him, his arm knocking you off balance, and your heeled foot slipping on his spilled alcohol. Luckily, someone catches you before you fall to the ground, a few small gasps ringing out front the people around you who notice your fall.

“You alright ma’am?” You look up at the man who caught you, wearing what appears to be an embarrassed smile when in actually is your attempt to conceal your satisfied smirk, glancing up at none other than your target.

“Oh! Well, suppose I am better now.” You murmur with a small giggle tacked on at the end just for show. Based off the way this man’s eyes have yet to meet your face, gazing down only at your chest, you’re thinking this whole plan is about to be a lot easier than anyone anticipated.

“Sound like she’s made contact.” You hear Soap’s accent ring out through the earpiece.

Oh, right. They get to listen in on your interaction with the target thanks to the open comm line on your end. Good, in the sense that they’ll know which direction you’re headed in and will be ready, not so good, in the sense that John is about to overhear every word of your faux flirting.

“You’ll have to excuse my friend,” he finally breaks eye contact with your cleavage and pulls you up to stand, noticeably keeping his touch on you. “We were just cutting him off for the night, in fact, but are you sure you’re alright?”

He’s got one hand on your waist, the other is holding onto you elbow to steady you. You open your mouth to politely insist again that you’re okay, when he interrupts.

“Please, allow me to get you a drink. The very least I can do.” He implores, hardly waiting for your reply before he begins to lead you by the arm, in search of said refreshment.

“I don’t believe we’ve met before.” You say to him, batting your eyelashes at him when he offers you a glance.

“Trust me darling, I would remember meeting someone like you.” He doesn’t even attempt to hide the way he scans you up and down, ogling every bit of skin that your dress reveals, leaving you feeling exposed, though you hide any trace of discomfort behind a flirtatious facade.

“Someone like me?” You question coyly.

Your new friend walks you into an adjoining room where a bartender is mixing drinks for the dozens of people milling about the space. Sliding up to the edge of the bar, he leans against the bar top and signals to the man working.

“Certainly you must know how, appetizing you look this evening.” Your face does not betray the way his words make you groan internally, fighting not to roll your eyes. The bartender approaches, and as your target is distracted for a moment, you glance at the new space, spotting a staircase leading to the second floor not far around the corner. With how easy everything has been thus far, you wonder if you’re pushing your luck by trying to expedite the process even further.

As the target turns his attention back to you, beginning to introduce himself, you bring a hand to your forehead, interrupting him.

“I’m sorry, I’m starting to feel a bit dizzy actually.” You say, shaking your head when he sets the drinks down and goes to pull out a bar stool for you. “You wouldn’t know of anywhere you could help me sit down, would you?” You slowly reach a hand out, to stroke his hand. “Somewhere you could help me lay down, maybe?”

You watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows harshly, eyes widening slightly in surprise at your suggestion, before quickly turning to excitement.

“Lucky for you ma’am, I’m good friends with our host tonight.” He snakes an arm around your waist, drinks long forgotten, and you’re relieved when you see he’s leading you towards the very staircase you were hoping he would take. “I know just the place.”

“Are we allowed to go upstairs?” You giggle obnoxiously, letting your men know that you and the target are on the move.

“Copy. Target’s headed for second level.” Ghost acknowledges over the line. As you come to the top of the staircase, blueprints sprawling through your head to picture where your teammates are currently placed, you realize that against your better odds, he doesn’t try to lead you towards either the east or west wing.

“Like I said princess, you’re in good hands.” Instead of leading you towards the 141, your prince charming is supposedly headed towards the washroom at the top of the landing, exactly in the middle ground where your team could not go, due to the handful of security guards patrolling the hallways. You’ve no doubt that in each of the rooms that the men were waiting for you in, there likely lay a few injured guards that had been tasked with watching those unfortunate quarters.

You knew your luck was going to run out eventually, but now you had to think fast and on your feet. Sliding out of the man’s grasp, you took a step away from him, tracing a finger along the bannister in a way you hoped came across as seductive.

“I don’t know. I feel like maybe I’ve been a bit too easy on you.” You wink for added emphasis that you’re trying to toy with him now. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Nor do I know yours.” He tried to challenge, raising a brow at your behaviour, though still slowly stalking towards you, not yet willing to let you go. “We do not need names to be friends, do we?”

“How do I know what kind of man you are, hm?” You question him, continuing your slow walk backwards, eyes scanning the room and you realize you’re slinking towards the west wing. Price and Gaz. They said they would be in the office in the west wing. You just have to get him there.

“I did help you just now, did I not? I believe I am a good man. Let me show you how good I can be.”

“And if I wasn’t looking for a good man? What then, hm?” He halts momentarily in his steps as he continues to follow you in what he believes is a game of playful banter, foreplay if he’s lucky. You’ve spotted a total of three guards so far, though none of them are very near this moment. Making up your mind, you steady yourself as you say, “What if I wanted someone who would chase me?”

Still keeping him in sight, you quicken your pace, hoping that he really will gave chase to you, allowing you to lead him like a fly to a trap.

“Whatever the lady wants.” He humours you, following you when you break into a sprint without hesitation, hoping your memory is doing you justice and the door you’re headed towards is indeed the one concealing one half of the 141. The sound of both your pairs of footsteps echoing down the corridor, you’re gripping the door handle the moment it’s within reach, turning to glance over your shoulder, seeing your target is only a few paces behind you.

You shove the door open with your shoulder, and just as you’d planned in all those briefings, you enter the room, grip never leaving the door, allowing the target to follow you in, and shut the door behind you, revealing the two large men who’d been hiding behind it, now with guns trained on the man before them. Before he even realizes what’s happening, Price has got him knocked out cold, hitting him with the blunt end of his weapon, letting his body crumple to the ground where he falls unconscious on the spot.

You’re thinking up a clever response to say about how easy this mission has been, before either of them can beat you to it, when your earpieces all buzz apiece.

“Alpha 5 to Bravo 6. Over.”

“Go for Bravo.” Price replies, pressing his finger to his ear, stepping over the unconscious target to come closer to you. Gaz has crouched down, examining the target, preparing to restrain him for transport back to base.

“Guards saw a woman get chased by a man on the second floor. They’ve sent someone to check it out, you’ve got one headed your way now. Less than 30 seconds.”

At those words, the three of you are glancing at each other, before Price is already acting.

“Garrick, help me get his jacket off then get him out of sight.” He orders his sergeant, who without question begins assisting the captain in removing the target’s suit jacket, before dragging the unconscious man towards the window they had apparently entered from. To your utter bewilderment, Price’s fingers then begin working speedily at his own tactical vest, pulling it over his head and off of himself, tossing it in Gaz’s direction.

“What are you doing?” You ask him, half wondering if he’s forgotten you can’t actually read his mind. He’s continuing to pull weapons off of himself until there’s nothing left, leaving them with Gaz.

“Guards saw two people walk in here, then two people will walk out.” He says, slipping the man’s jacket on over his shoulders. Price’s shoulders are without a doubt wider and bulkier, the sit being too small, but it’s not so bad that he looks outright odd. “Trust me here, love.” He asks of you, receiving a nod from your part instantly.

All in the blink of an eye, Gaz has tossed the equipment out the open window, and is carrying the unconscious target over his shoulder as he slips out that same window and vanishes out of sight. The door to the room is being tossed open, and John is grabbing you with a force you haven’t personally felt from him before. One of his large hands is in your hair, the other is grabbing the fat of your ass, and he pulls you flush against his own body, sealing his warm lips to yours in a kiss so passionate, so needy, it knocks the breath out of you.

“Oy!” The guard shouts at you two. “Fuck are you twos doing up here?”

“Sorry ‘bout that, mate.” John breaks the kiss, before he answers apologetically, holding a single hand up in peace, the other keeping its tight grip on your behind. “The missus got a little eager. We’ll get going, don’t mean to be any trouble.”

Playing the part of a couple nearly caught in the act, John takes ahold of your hand and keeps his head ducked as he quickly leads you towards the door. You squeak out your own bashful ‘Sorry!’ as you step past the man, following along with John in your feigned shame at being caught. Your mind was absolutely reeling with all the adrenaline of the last five minutes coursing through your veins, your captain holding you against his muscled body being at the top of your list.

“Now hold on just a minute-” the guard tries to shout after you both, taking notice of John’s unusual appearance compared to the other well dressed men walking about, but the pair of you are hurriedly making your way towards your escape.

“Stay with me now.” Price gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as he keeps a steady pace down the hall, headed for the staircase, intent on making a swift exit.

“Bravo 6 to Bravo 7. Slight change o’ plans. Garrick’s got our target. Help ‘em get to the rendezvous point and Rookie and I’ll meet you there.” John hurriedly mumbles under his breath, placing a steadying hand on the small of your back as you begin to descend the steps.

“Copy. Out here.” The Lieutenant replies diligently.

“Nicely done, Rookie. Think that’s record time.” You hear Soap’s playful tone come through the earpiece.

“We’re not clear yet, Sergeant. Stay alert.” Price tells him as you both land back on the bottom step. With the guards now on higher alert, one likely still hot on your heels, you need to blend back in with the crowd before sneaking your way towards the first convenient exit, still keen on avoiding drawing any further attention to yourselves. With all the confidence in the world, your captains steady hand leads you back through the bar and into the still crowded ballroom, musicians instruments playing with an much enthusiasm as they had before.

John’s keen eyes spot the handful of security patrolling the room with their gazes scanning the crowd. Turning to face you now, John brings your clasped hands up higher, placing your free hand on his shoulder before landing his own palm on the small of your waist.

“John, what are we-” Your words are cut off as you recognize he’s placed you both in the familiar position for a waltz, your eyes looking up into his own with questions unspoken.

“Follow my lead.” He whispers to you so softly that you nearly miss it with the sound of the music picking back up. You don’t even need to answer him before your body is instinctually doing just that, following his lead as he begins to softly move to the beat of the song.

Your eyes never break apart from one another, gazes locked in their own private choreographed moment as the captain smoothly dances with you from one end of the room to the other, going unnoticed amongst the swarms of other dancing couples. His hold on you is searing hot, sending sparks shooting though every nerve receptor he touches. He’s feeling just as affected by you, his heart hammering in his chest so strongly he’s certain you must be able to feel it against your own sternum.

Spinning you close enough to the edge of the ballroom that the front entry is once again in sight, John needs only cast a glance to the door for you to understand his message, gripping your clasped hands tighter together. You offer him a small smile and nod in agreement, letting him know that yes, you’ll follow him anywhere.

“You should be sleeping. Sun’ll be up soon.”

You’re holding a steaming cup of tea in hand, one hand on your hip with a look on your face that says ‘Really?’ pointed at your captain who has yet to leave his office since you’d all returned from the mission hours ago. You slowly approach his desk, your feet eternally thankful for the comfort of your boots over the heels you’d ripped off. In the time since you’ve returned to base, the target’s been secured, you were all dismissed for the night as well as the following day, considering it already was the early morning hours of the next day. You’d combed your hair out of his hair sprayed style, wiped all traces of makeup off your face, intent on following your captain’s orders and making your way to bed.

“I won’t even bother telling you the same. Both know you wouldn’t listen.” You set the mug down on his desk for him, your hand lingering along the surface of the wooden top.

“Thank you.” He smiles gratefully up at you from his seat, genuinely appreciative of your thoughtful gesture at this late hour. “Though, think I’ve heard the lads arguin’ once or twice ‘bout how you’re the only one I do listen to.” John’s smile widens as he notices the faint blush creeping along the apples of your cheeks.

“Well,” you playfully rolls your eyes at his comment, coming to step nearer to the broad man, turning slowly to present him with the back of your dress.“Help me out of this thing would you? So I can actually get some sleep.”

The black of your dress is open down to the middle of your back, where a short zipper begins. You don’t need any help with it, you’d been able to put it on without issue before the mission. However as you stood in your room, preparing to take off the garment, you couldn’t erase the image in your mind of John’s eyes landing on your figure as he hungrily took in your appearance. You couldn’t forget the feeling of his wide hands holding you against him, pressing every inch of his muscled physique to yours, lips desperate to chase the taste of your mouth.

Your heated thoughts brought you to the small kitchenette in search of a glass of water to cool yourself down, however as your eyes landed on the kettle, and your thoughts continued to swarm your head, you’d begun heating up your Captain’s tea and walking in direction of his office before you’d been able to convince yourself it wasn’t a good idea.

Now, peering over your shoulder to see John’s face as he takes in the expanse of exposed skin displayed before him, his breath catching in his throat, grip tightening on his pen in hand, you’re certain this was an excellent idea.

Taking a deep steadying breath through his flared nostrils, John’s eyes meet yours, a playful mischief hidden behind his gaze as you recognize that he’s just as well aware you can undo your dress without his help, without his hands to assist you, but still taking the bait you offer him. Part of John’s chest had swelled up with pride when you’d led the target to him and Gaz earlier tonight, even knowing that the odds had been 50/50 depending which direction the target went towards. He’d only been more than happy to oblige when you, the cunning little spider, lead her fly into the trap of her web, and broke the bastard’s nose as if you’d served him up on a platter.

He feels almost similar now, a bug being led into your sticky trap, watching you dangle the enticing bait in front of him that could lead to his ultimate demise, his unavoidable detriment. Though from the look in his eyes, it seems more likely that John is the one intent on devouring you whole tonight. His throat bobs as he swallows, spinning his chair to face you better, hands twitching for a moment before he brings them to trace the edge of the fabric where your dress meets your bare skin.

Your own breath comes out as a soft gasp as the feeling of his digits teasing along your back, the warmth emanating from his touch a thousand times hotter than the blood pooling in your face. You can feel his hot breath fan across your skin, just as his fingers bring themselves to grip your zipper firmly. Achingly slow, dragging the process out as if to torture you, John inches the zipper down at a pace only a hardened military man could maintain when face to face with more and more of your bare body appearing before his eyes.

The both of you are now holding your breaths as he finally drags the last of the zipper open, his fingers now grazing the top of your ass. You hear him let out a deep sigh, before his hands are sliding along the smooth material of your dress, the chair creaking beneath him as he comes to stand behind you. His hands tease along your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake as his digits skim higher and higher up your back until he reaches your shoulders.

You can feel every inch of him pressed up against you from behind, his body emanating heat like a furnace. But more noticeably, you can feel his rock hard member through his slacks pressing up against the swell of your ass.

“You know how proud you made me today, hm?” He asks softly, before pressing a kiss to your temple. You feel hardly in control when your eyes flutter shut, leaning back to put your full weight against him, letting him embrace you like this. He brings his mouth lower to kiss your reddened cheek, your neck, behind your ear. “Had the muppet in the palm of your hand soon as he laid eyes on ya.” His warm breath is fanning across your skin, rolling your neck to the side to allow him better access.

“And who could fuckin’ blame him?” He nearly growls, slipping one of the thin straps of your dress off your shoulder, allowing it to fall down your arm, his palm now coming to land on your exposed, bare waist, fingers spreading wide as he takes in your softness. Your eyes open as you feel a finger stroking your cheek, tilting your face to meet his, his shining blue orbs, glazed over in obvious desire, asking what he dare not speak out loud. You nod all too eagerly, telling him everything he needs to know.

John’s hand is sliding away from your cheek, fingers dancing across your shoulders as he gently tugs at the final strap holding your dress up, the tension that has been building and heating between the two of you for far too long now coming to a head. As the fabric falls from your figure and pools at your feet, leaving you bare before your captain, wearing nothing more but the necklace he’d put on you only so many hours earlier. John wastes no time in pulling your lips to his, curious hands exploring the expanse of your skin as you practically melt into his touch.

His large hands are squeezing your waist, your hips, one hand is reaching to grab ahold of your breast, fingers teasing your sensitive nipple. He hears you try to hold back a small moan, and he thinks you’re the sweetest thing in the world. Believing that you can hold back any of your delicious sounds from him. In the blink of an eye, John is turning you around, clearing everything off his desk in quick swoop of his arm, before lifting you up by your thighs and seating you atop his desk.

“Now, gorgeous,” he says almost sternly, putting on a faux captain voice, though he’s certainly never sounded quite so lustful over comms before. “That’s the first and the last time that I ever want to hear you try and keep a single one of your pretty little noises from me. Understood?”

You’re nearly panting you’re breathing so hard, watching as John pulls his chair up and takes a seat in front of you, his hands coming to pull your legs further apart until his shoulders are between them your thighs, your face going beet red as his own head is merely inches from your bare, completely soaked folds. In reality, you had been dripping down your thighs since you’d walked into his office with nothing underneath your dress.

“Seeing as you did such a good job tonight however,” he adds, fingers massaging the soft skin beneath his touch. “and considering you never even gave the bastard a chance to ask you to dance,” his gaze locks with yours at that, his eyes communicating the sentiment behind his words. “Lettin’ your old captain steal a one from ya,” his mouth comes to plant a kiss on your thigh, then another, and another, working closer to your centre. “Suppose you deserve a reward.”

Your moan would be embarrassing if the feeling of his warm lips sucking your clit wasn’t so heavenly. He spreads you open, tongue working at your sensitive bud with a fervour only a starving man could match. He is starved for you, has been since he’s met you and now that he’s tasting you, he doesn’t know how he’s survived without it. He can’t decide which is sweeter, your taste or the noises you make, so responsive to his touch, as if you were an instrument he’d memorized the most beautiful melodies to.

As his tongue continues to work feverishly at your nub, one of his fingers comes to tease your throbbing hole. His digit slowly slips in until he reaches his knuckle, slipping back out, wasting no time before slipping in a second, earning a lustful gasp from above him. Your hands are threaded in his hair, trying not to rock against him, but quickly losing grip of your self control, as he brings you closer and closer to that peak.

His two fingers begin to curl inside you, searching for that soft, sweet spot that has you seeing stars when he reaches it with his long, skilled digits. Your thighs are beginning to shake, one of his hands coming to steady you, but never dropping his pace, as his tongue and fingers work in tandem to bring you to that crest.

“Come on sweetheart,” he mumbles into you, his voice barely reaching your ears over the sounds of your own pleasure. “Give it to me. I’ve got ya, cum for your captain. Give me a good one.” Before he’s reattaching his lips to your wet folds, attacking your clit with renewed vigour.

John clamps a hand over your mouth just in time to muffle your scream as you cum all over his hand and mouth, soaking his beard with your arousal, his movements never slowing down until you’re pushing his head away from you, unable to take any more of the intense pleasure having you seeing stars. The both of you are panting now, as he slips his hand away from your mouth and around to the back of your neck, standing to his full height before you. He’s memorizing the look on your face at this moment, the glazed expression over your features, eyes gazing longingly into his as though you’re the only two people on this base, maybe the world. Fuck, how he wishes he could give you the world.

He brings his lips to yours, caught up in his undeniable feelings for you, going much, much further than simple attraction. Yet he’s having a hard time thinking very hard about that, or anything at the moment, when you’re kissing him back with the same intensity, one of your hands sneaking down his torso, reaching for the front of his trousers.

John can’t help the deep groan that comes up his throat at the feeling of your hand wrapping around him through the fabric of his pants. All too eagerly, he’s fumbling with the buckle of his belt, never letting your lips separate from his. Practically ripping the belt out of its place, he tosses it aside, feeling your deft fingers quickly pulling at his zipper, glancing up to meet his eyes when your fingers creep along the edge of his boxers underneath.

He gives you a single, confident nod, torn between rolling his head back in pleasure and keeping his eyes locked on your every expression as you tug down his trousers and underwear together, freeing his aching cock. His member springs to life, precum beading at his red, swollen tip.

“John…” you murmur as you size up his cock, excited and equally concerned about his impressive length.

“I know love,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We’ll make it fit.”

You spread your thighs wider, arms coming to wrap around John’s shoulders as he lines his cock up with your entrance, already groaning at the feeling of his head touching your warm, wet folds. The both of you gasp as he slips his tip inside you, foreheads pressed together, as one of his hands tenderly holds the back of your head, fingers threaded through your locks while the other wraps around your back to squeeze your hip, holding you close to him.

Inch by inch, John rolls his hips forward and back, taking his sweet, sweet time in discovering the bliss that is being inside of you, wrapped around you, simply being with you, until he’s filled you up entirely to his base, hairs at the base of his groin coming to rub against your already sensitive clit, creating a delicious friction that you know will have you finishing quickly already.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he groans out, rolling his hips back, earning a pleased moan from your lips as he rocks forward again, filling you completely. “Gonna be the death of me.”

You haven’t a single functioning brain cell left to answer him, and he knows it, your continuously flowing arousal seeping down between where the two of you are joined, echoing sinful sounds throughout the small room. As if your moans wouldn’t be evidence enough as to what was happening in Captain Price’s office, should anyone walk by. Keeping a steady pace, the captain fucks you against his desk relentlessly, earning more and more of those very noises from your lips.

“Oh my god, John! Oh fuck! John!” Hearing you, John feels like he’s about to burst. He hasn’t cum in ages, and he’s been so hard for so long now, he doesn’t think he can hold back much longer. Not when he’s hearing you whimpering his name so sweetly, not when you feel as incredible as you do wrapped around him like this, squeezing him so tight. He’s pressing hot, open mouth kisses against your neck, your collarbone, any skin his lips can reach.

“Love,” John grits out through a clenched jaw, holding himself back as best he can as he continues to move with you, bodies rocking back and forth as if in their own choreographed dance. “Where can I- where do you want me to-”

“Inside!” You plead wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. “Inside John, please! I’m- oh fuck!” You say as he delivers another deep thrust. “On the pill. I’m on the pill.”

John needs no further permission, his cock continuing to hit that sweet, sensitive spot inside of you, that has your eyes rolling back in please. Just as his fingers reach between your two bodies to press against you throbbing clit, you moan out his name, reaching your blissful peak for the second time tonight, all at your Captain’s doing. John groans out, feeling himself begin to burst, holding his hips against yours.

“Fuck!” He shoots thick, hot ropes of his spend deep into you, his member twitching inside. “I got you love.” He talks you through both your cresting orgasms, grinding impossibly further into you, never letting go of the tight hold he has around you. “I’m with you, love. Right with you.”

Later on, as he walks you back to your room, insisting he has to see you make it there safely even though it’s technically become so ‘late’ that some of the early risers are awake by now, John asks:

“You did have panties on under the dress durin’ the mission though, right?”

If you’ve made it to the end of my first ever completed series, then thank you for making it this far!

I felt very bleh about the ‘mission’ part of writing this but hopefully my first ever attempt at legitimate smut made up for it!

This is the end of this little three part series, but I’ve got some more Price fics lined up for sure

I know I said it in the initial disclaimer but seriously y’all, wrap it before you tap it, fan fiction is fiction, pregnancy and STDs are real, use protection! (But like me, read all the filthy, filthy fics your heart desires)

-M 🫶🏻

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inchidentally · 9 months ago

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Okay so I was thinking about why Oscar didn’t go and congratulate Lando right after his win but I think the answer is quite simple. It’s because he felt a little at odds with himself.

He lost out in that race because of the safety car the same one that secured Lando’s chance. (you can hear him audibly swear over the radio when it came out, which he NEVER does) He was pissed at the timing and then to top it all off gets his race ruined by Carlos of all people (again) and THEN when he’s desperately trying to force his way back thought he field he’s told to stop fighting because Lando is in the lead.

So whilst I’m sure he was happy for Lando, he was, at the same time, mourning his own loss. As he should! He’s a racing driver. he should be pissed at losing especially at no fault of his own.

So he gave Lando the space, let him take in his well deserved victory and once he’d calmed he congratulated Lando earnestly, without his feeling for his own race getting in the way!

And I think it’s says a lot about how understanding and kind Oscar is. He knew if he congratulated Lando as soon as they crossed the line he wouldn’t have meant it enough so he waited until he did mean it.

What do you think?

KES BABE you're gonna make me long post !!!

I've actually got to weigh in (pun intended) with a very real technicality that my cousin pointed out when I was looking for Oscar once we finally got to watch!

all of the drivers who congratulated Lando not only were father figures/big brother figures to him, they also finished in the top 10 and quite literally had finished their weigh in nice and quick - the exception being Daniel who did not have to go and see the stewards. quite literally Oscar had to wait toward the back of the queue to finish his parc ferme shit (did we ever even get eyes on him?) from there he had to go see the stewards. depending on who they spoke to first out of him, Carlos and KMag and how long they kept him in the meeting, from there he'd have had to find out where Lando was (celebrating? interviews? cool down room?) and then run around to wherever he was. and ofc if he was in cool down he wouldn't have been allowed in.

so technically maybe Lando would've still been easy to find in Oscar's gap between finishing in parc ferme and going to the stewards, he might also have been stood waiting for his interview or even doing it or he might have already headed to the cool down room etc etc etc.

but I am NOT going to expect Oscar to try and navigate all of that when he not only had his top 3 position ruined but now he also had to go and find out if he was going to be penalized as well !!

especially when he knows he's got ample time to congratulate Lando anyway and Oscar is not remotely the type to care if cameras are around to broadcast it or not. the other non-podium drivers were going to entirely different garages and who knows when they'd cross paths with Lando again.

so honestly I personally think this all came down to technicalities more than anything else and if Oscar had finished in the top 10 at least then he would've absolutely been right there to congratulate Lando both for the ease of it but also bc it wouldn't have been as awful a result even if did receive a penalty.

and equally if he had the time to think of it, he would've assumed Carlos was already headed up there to congratulate Lando (and possibly could have seen him) and it was not !! the time for Oscar and Carlos to cross paths at that moment !!

BUT AS YOU SAID !! I think if there was time for him to get past the frustration and anger at what had happened to his own race and those mitigating factors weren't as much of an issue as I'm guessing they were, we know damn well that he'd be thinking what you said <3<3 bc even when things are going horrendously for him, Oscar never loses his head. and if he at all thought he'd bring his own negativity to the biggest moment in Lando's career so far then no WAY would he have risked it.

and bottom line is that one hug has ended up paling in comparison with how much Oscar was there for Lando in Oscar accepting 50% of the upgrades, obeying team orders for Lando rather than trying to get back in the points, showing up for Lando's celebrations twice in a major way, then going out to celebrate him all night long and posting about his win on social media for days afterward <3 like sure it would've had wider publicity if there'd been a hug right after - but Lando's beaming smile and thanking Oscar shows that he doesn't rate publicity as being more significant than everything else Oscar did for him that weekend ;__;

and what's actually really killed me is that surely surely there had to be an element of it for Lando where he remembered last year telling the press how it stung and hurt that Oscar had achieved any kind of win before him. that Oscar was never a showboat about it and always specified that it was a sprint win and not a real race win. that Lando was always the one to bring it up and give Oscar his dues but that Oscar never brought it up again afterward himself. and the mounting anxiety for Lando of what if Oscar got that race win before him? and how much that anxiety must have been at it's peak watching Oscar leading in Miami?? literally I think it would've been too much to humanly expect Lando to cope at all well. I think the absolute least amount of grace we would have given him would be to not go and immediately celebrate it with Oscar but honestly? if he'd decided to just do his post race interviews and slip away quietly until the video with Andrea then none of us would have judged him for it AT ALL. it would have been an unavoidably bittersweet day and knowing what the press and haters would have done to him would have paled in comparison to Lando having to live with knowing that Oscar got there first and so much quicker. and genuinely I think it would have taken a certain amount of shine off of it for Oscar as well and he would not have even slightly expected Lando to put himself through any more of it than strictly necessary for appearances.

(seriously I think we all breathed a sigh of relief over this win as much as we were elated about it !! we will never have to exist in a timeline where Oscar got his race win before Lando)

so not only will Lando have not remotely expected Oscar to show up in parc ferme for a hug, he has clearly counted every moment of Oscar celebrating his win as golden and beyond the call of teammate duty. and that not only did he make sure that posterity recorded Oscar's achievements earlier in that race, he made sure that he thanked him by setting the example of what could be done on just half the upgrades.

we all expected each of the hugs Lando got right after that race. each of those men has helped to raise Lando and has watched him since he was small and awkward and painfully shy and suffering heart-wrenching race results. they needed to hold their boy in his moment of purest happiness.

but none of us could have reasonably assumed how Oscar - only just out of his rookie season and Lando's teammate of just one season and a bit - would react to such a devastating race for himself while also on the biggest day of his teammate's career to date.

one hug would honestly have been a perfectly fine bare minimum and plenty of other drivers would have called that good and begged off.

equally tho one measly hug shouldn't make anyone underestimate how extraordinarily above and beyond and then some Oscar has been for Lando for the past week. that not only has he celebrated it and celebrated Lando, he's done so in proportion to people older than him who have known Lando much longer than him and who are not direct rivals to Lando.

like genuinely, the general F1 fans keep saying what a gentlemen and exemplary one-of-a-kind teammate Oscar has been through all of this and they're absolutely right. we not only got to rejoice in Lando's win, we also get to rejoice that he has a teammate who has proven his worth and made the McLaren driver partnership secure for the years they have to come <3<3

#inchreplies #I'm sorry I went off on my own thing here babe !!! I just rly wanted to point those things out !!#landoscar

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londonfoginacup · 4 months ago

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Personal stream of consciousness around Liam and grief and moving forward

Every day I wake up and Liam is still dead. It continues to sort of feel like at some point I will wake up and that won’t be true, that he’ll be back, like he’s just on a trip right now. And I think that’s… a normal part of the grieving process, but it’s hard because it feels disrespectful, almost.

I only did 8 days of inktober this year. I had another ten sketched out already in my notebook, and now I wonder what to do with those. Some of them were good! (Some weren’t). I was older than Liam by a month or so, but for some reason I want to be able to go to him now, and show him those sketches, and say, I do art too! Aren’t you proud of me?

Death is a horrible and unnatural thing. It was never supposed to happen to us. We grieve because we were not made to lose people. We were made to love them forever. Grief is our body trying desperately to reconcile with a reality it was never made for. That is why it feels this way. We were not made for a life like this. We were made to hold one another in our arms. We were made to love each other. We were made for more.

I want to tell him that. That he was made for more than he got. I hope someday I can.

When tumblr started having polls, I always voted the Liam option, and in part that was because I love Liam and I would’ve chosen him regardless. But in part it was with the thought that, if he were to ever snoop on our community here, I wanted Liam to see that he had people in his corner. I don’t regret that. I’m sad it’s all I could do.

I was thinking about it earlier. About One Direction. I tried to slice it so many ways and I came to the conclusion that Liam and Louis are the ones that I think were the heart. I think 1D could’ve come back together to tour, make music, and so on, as long as it had at least those two. 1D could never exist without Liam. It just couldn’t. He loved them too much.

Obviously, I haven’t turned my queue back on. I haven’t felt right reblogging current day stuff about the boys. It feels like turning that back on will indicate being ready to move on, to some extent. And okay, I’ll never be ready so there’s that. But. The idea of turning it back on doesn’t feel right. Not yet.

That being said, I started last month preparing for Christmas. For the 25 days of fic rec I do, and the advent fic. And of course cards. I had decided just a week before Everything Happened that I couldn’t afford to do physical cards this year. And I feel ten times more guilty about that decision now, because it feels like surely people NEED that! But I am also trying to be realistic with myself; so many wonderful people have offered to help financially, and any other time I think I would’ve taken them up on that, but right now the emotional and mental weight of doing physical cards might also be too heavy.

Which, again, makes me feel like I’m letting people down when they need me. If I could, I would send all of you personalized letters every day. It is so hard to reckon with the knowledge that I am only human and must take care of myself.

But I will do the fic recs. that’s easy; I’ve already finished the post graphics.

And I will do the advent fic (I might change my plot— the original one didn’t have a lot of Liam, but i think I need him there more).

And I will make some sort of digital cards for sure. It occurred to me this year that I never put my paper dolls online anywhere and I sort of wonder why not. At least maybe this will be a treat for anyone too wary of sending a stranger online their address— all of you can print th paper dolls for yourselves. I’ll make plenty of outfits.

So. That’s my plan, I suppose. I’ve cried writing this more than I’ve cried all week, I think because it’s easy to think that I am past the worst of the grieving right up until I have to look head on at the facts again.

I miss him. I miss him. How could this happen.

#liam #ugggghhhhhhhh I am crying again and my EARS ARE RED #bleeeeeghhghghgg #how to make it sound like you’re not crying at your desk when you work in an open plan office??? I dunno I sure do NOT KNOW #😩😩😩😩😩😩

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wangxianficrecs · 13 days ago

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Follower Recs

~*~

This is an ongoing fic, but the authors are updating daily and they say it is a completed fic (so you can choose to wait or post immediately?)

It's a funny retelling of canon mostly, told from the POV of Jin Ling, and looks like it might be a short fic. (It's only 2k words so far and there's 5 chapters out as of today).

I would recommend it for anyone who is looking for a laugh! - Anon

[Mod Kay: The way the queue is running, the fic already finished posting by the time this rec got posted!]

All My Uncles Have Killed Someone

by Indelible_Faith (TheWaterGoddess) (@indelibleme) & Thedivinewriter_20 (@ineffablequeenoftheuniverse)

G, WIP, 8k, Wangxian

Summary: Truly, all my uncles have killed someone. A couple of the more… enterprising ones, have killed more than once. Sometimes at the same time, in one go, all at once. Usually, it’s another uncle. Or another family member—though, lots have tried that, with varying levels of success. Some of them are good, others bad and some are just unfortunate. Hi, I’m Jin Ling (Rulan). Call me Jin-zongzhu. I’m your friendly neighbourhood reliable narrator of whatever events that unfold. Although, fair warning—for more than half of these events, I was not present, so any discrepancies that you notice should be ignored. I said I’m friendly and reliable, not necessarily accurate.

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for these hard-working authors if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

#February 2025 #Wangxian Fic Recs #follower recs #follower rec #mdzs #MDZS #Mo Dao Zu Shi #CQL #Chenqingling #The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation #The Untamed #Wangxian #All My Uncles Have Killed Someone #Indelible_Faith (TheWaterGoddess)#Thedivinewriter_20 #Gen #short fic <15k

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evanbuckleyrecs · 9 months ago

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Buddie AUs over 20k

To catch up on recommending fics in my bookmarks, I'll also try to make some lists instead of posting one fic per post. Though some fics might also still get their own posts even while added in a list.

To start, here are some finished Buddie AUs with more than 20k words

(I made this list in March so it doesn't have any newer fics. Soon I want to spend a day dedicated to catching up to new fics and adding posts to my queue here)

what if you're someone I just want around by ReallySmartLadyMarieCurie

20k, Rated T

"Eddie pauses in his typing, glancing at Buck and trying to figure him out. He seems so eager to help and to please, so willing to take some of the burden in order to make others happy. It’s the sort of presence that Eddie’s been craving in his life. One that he’s missed since Shannon’s fatal accident. And he’s incredibly handsome. He’s got conventional good looks and a beautiful smile, but that pink little splotch above his eye, which Eddie guesses is a birthmark, is really what brings it home."

Or, Eddie Diaz is a successful boxer who's been making a big name for himself in recent years. Buck is a fan, but he certainly never expected to end up at Eddie's house after the man calls 9-1-1 when his son gets sick.

I love the way you spoil me, baby by rosebuddiekin

33,8K, rated E

“I, uh, I was actually at that coffee shop to meet with someone else. You see, for the past few years, I’ve been a sugar daddy on a site that connects people looking for similar things. I was supposed to meet with a prospective baby that day, but then I saw you. And I felt drawn to you, so I messaged the guy I was supposed to be seeing and told him I had to cancel. I just, I thought you should know. That I should be upfront about it from the start.”

Eddie’s fork drops to his plate, making a small clatter. He can feel that his mouth is agape. He’s very glad he hadn’t taken another bite or sip of anything while Buck spoke. Because what the actual fuck? Buck… is a sugar daddy.

OR: Buck is a sugar daddy who wants to spoil Eddie rotten and take care of everything for him. Eddie has never had that sort of relationship but is willing to give it a try. There is plenty of adventure along the way.

Sunny skies & summer high by prettyboybuckley

Sequel to a one shot, 43,8K, rated E

 "Well, I kind of want to kiss you right now but that's usually something that happens at the end of a first date, right?" Buck asks, doing a weird movement with his eyebrows in an attempt to be funny.

Eddie chuckles, wrinkling his nose a little.

"I guess, yeah," he mutters. "Think we're doing this a little backward already anyway, so are there any rules to follow?"

He's got a point there, and even then Buck has never really been the kind of guy who follows rules, so he ends up leaning over the center console as he uses one hand to pull Eddie's face towards him. It's a short kiss, a simple peck hello that Eddie chases after when Buck pulls away again.

OR: Buck and Eddie sneak around behind Eddie’s family’s back, spend the summer together, smoke a lot of weed, and fall in love along the way

Kiss me before It's over (if only for a minute) by Bob_loblaws_lawblog

54,2K, Rated E

Evan Buckley is living out his childhood dream as the star hitter for the Philadelphia Phillies. He’s climbing the ranks, improving his stats with every single game – he’s unstoppable.

That is, until the Los Angeles Angels get a new pitcher seemingly out of nowhere. Known for his strong arm and tricky curve balls, Eddie Diaz is one of the few pitchers in the nation who consistently makes Buck strike out, and its infuriating. Even from the sixty feet that separate them between the batter’s box and the pitcher’s mound, the weight of Diaz’s gaze is enough to make Buck’s blood boil.

Because Buck doesn’t get nervous on game day, he never feels calmer than when he steps up to the plate with the bat in his hand – it’s where he belongs. But when he sees Eddie Diaz standing on that mound, his stomach flips and nerves spark across his skin.

Because if there is one thing Buck knows for sure, it is that he hates Eddie Diaz.

… Until he doesn’t.

Traded by princessfbi

23,7K, rated M

Really, it was Lena’s fault. She’d been the one to demand a video when Eddie had finally caved and sent an SOS to the group chat asking if anyone was willing to trade.

“Is anyone interested in trading jerseys with me? Preferably for a smaller size,” Eddie had said because knowing his coworkers, one of them would’ve been a smart ass and gave him an even bigger size. “I ordered an XL because I’m usually a XL but… the way it fits makes me look like I’m fucking one of the players.”

Eddie wasn't trying to go viral. He just wanted to trade his jersey. But then something called Booktok got involved.

Bartender!Eddie Diaz x Hockey Player!Evan Buckley

Snowed Inn by brewrosemilk

31,1K, rated M

Rivaling for a promotion, journalists Evan Buckley and Eddie Diaz get sent to a small town where they are each to write a piece on a once illustrious inn and its rich history. For two talented and overconfident authors, it sounds like an easy assignment - but in between a violent snowstorm, blocked roads, heated stares, and a struggling inn, Buck and Eddie may just have to abandon their rivalry and accept each other as partners.

Don't play games (come my way) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

43,1K, Rated E

Buck hates Eddie Diaz.

Ever since his publishing company and Eddie's merged, the man has been nothing but a pain in Buck's ass. The way he nitpicks all of Buck's company emails, the way he spends half his day bickering with Buck, the way he makes Buck's stomach flip and the way he's started haunting Buck's dreams... yeah, it's one hundred percent hate. Definitely. Buck's sure of it.

Because what the hell else could it be?

Falling slowly; sing your melody (I'll sing it loud) by princessfbi

55,3K, Rated E

Buck didn’t like him at first.

Eddie Diaz was all hard lines and strict rules with a bone structure that could cut through glass and scared away his fans. Which... if you asked Bobby, was the point but still!

He also yelled at Buck which was fine. It’s not like it hurt his feelings.

It didn’t.

It didn’t, Maddie!

It also definitely didn’t turn Buck on either. Nope.

Stop it, Maddie!

After a traumatizing home invasion, Bobby Nash decides to hire a bodyguard for his lead singer.

Musician!Buck Bodyguard!Eddie

More fics to be recommended soon!

#911 #buddie #911 on abc #buddie fanfic rec #buddie fanfiction #rated m #rated e #20k+#alternate universe #buddie recommendations #buddie au #911 abc #911 fanfiction

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puuta-heinaa · 11 months ago

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Joker Out, Paris (Café de la danse) 22.3.2024

I arrived at the venue around 14ish, and was third to last in the EE queue. However queueing is part of the party! I exchanged sooo many bracelets and met amazing people, some of which I just met that day, some I knew from Discord or tumblr or earlier gigs, couldn't have been happier. Got selfies with Bojan and Jan?? Hug from Bojan??? HELLO. That would never happen in Finland. I described his hug as jämäkkä and turvallinen, which roughly translates to sturdy and safe.

Some of the bracelets I made for the concert!

Met someone in the queue who had hawk's eyes and who encouraged me to go and ask for a selfie with Jan, and later on she spotted Bojan on the street 100 m before everyone else did. I had a chance to give Bojan 3 2 ananaslonkero -bracelet that I'd made, with a tiny drink charm. If the main joke in fandoms is that a hug from your blorbo would cure you? well it's true. Getting a hug from Bojan removed some stiffness between my shoulder blades that I didn't even know was there. It was literally easier to breathe after the encounter. I also kept vigorously shaking for 3-5 minutes afterwards, so much that some people asked if I'm ok. Just released years worth of trauma ig. Also LOTS of happy hand stims throughout the day, my autism was showing lol.

Jan was outdoors SMOKING!!! And Bojan had charmingly dirty hair! He was taller than I had thought.

ANYways the gig !! I ended up on Jance side, which was nice as I was on Kris' side in Helsinki. Whole stage was about as wide as K-18 section at Kultsa, and I think they suit better on smaller stages.

We got Vem da Gres and Gola in soundcheck! I was wearing Vem da gres -bracelet that I got in Helsinki a few weeks ago and thought about that person for a few seconds!

Gola was ok. Bojan got disney mickey ears, and he was wearing my 3 2 ananaslonkero bracelet. Bojan also got a maca plushie that he was NOT scared of, he even made it fly.

Kris left the stage as soon as the last notes of Gola were over, other boys stayed jamming in accelerating speed for couple of more minutes. I showed them my UM sign that only read "I want to sing UMAZAN" at that point. :')

20h02 was ok, didn't connect with their music at all though. JC Stewart seemed a bit sick, but sounded good nevertheless. Finished my sign.

They started with Katrina and Bele Sanje, and people were singing even guitar riffs along. Dopamin hit like dopamine followed by Ne bi smel, Nace was staring at me several times during those songs.

Liinu's superb edit of staring sc Nace and struggling Kris and Arcti's edit about Jan's forgotten library books made my day

People were already singing along to Sta bih ja, and Bojan was sooo happy (and sweaty. We were all very sweaty, the concert hall was ridiculously warm.). Kris disappeared for a moment in the beginning of Sta bih ja, and Bojan looked like a lost puppy (wait, where is kris?? about 5-10 seconds into sta bih ja). Bojan said Kris didn't like how Jan played the riff and that's why he left the stage :P. Jan flipped a bird to him.

Decibels raised by about 20 when they played Ona and Demoni. Turns out they might be the easiest to sing along for absolutely everyone, not just for people who speak Finnish. Bojan looked me directly into eyes during second verse of Demoni for several seconds, and I felt so seen (in a good way). EE was definitely worth its price.

In Helsinki I felt like the setlist was over before it even started, but in Paris it felt more like we were really dancing and playing until the stars fade. I think it had something to do with how much they interacted with each other and with the public during each song. In Helsinki they seemed like they had forgotten how to be on stage, and there was just TOO MUCH SPACE, whereas Paris had Nordic Tour energy.

They all moved a LOT on stage!! Kris was on jance side several times! Nace had a mating dance thingy going on with Kris at least twice, Jan once. Jan interacted with the public on Kris's side a few times. Bojan almost run into Kris at one point - no wonder he caressed Kris's arm to let him know he's there before grapping his hips?? and dancing behind him??? during Behind those eyes. It's cafe de la danse after all.

Def thinking "THIS is how we'll trend on tumblr tonight" right after the famous dance

Everybody's waiting and soooooo many people raised hands when Bojan asked in his spiel before the song if anyone here suffers from panic or anxiety attacks, and I think it made everyone feel less alone. He sang I'm the problem it's me -line to make things a bit lighter before proceeding to the song.

We got Omamljeno Telo and I felt SOOOO HAPPY (but also sad for Moonu) but also SOOOO HAPPY it was on the setlist, I think I screamed VITTU JES on top of my lungs (manifesting it for Ruisrock huh). Famous water spray on Jan during OT, and it shows I've grown old, because instead of "yeeeess I want Bojan's spit on me" I went "rat disease, why am I not wearing a mask".

Everyone sang along during CD, not in French though even if there was a fanproject French translation published a whole 28 hours before(....). Plastika hit like a hammer once again, but I think I was already waiting and stressing for UM, so I didn't mosh for example. Which, good idea, because my neck was soooo sore after Helsinki.

Bojan announced the karaoke song, and asked which versions we have today. He saw my sign, asked "Slovenian version?", to which I "said" (from 4th row on Jan+Nace side) Finnish version, and he heard it and corrected himself and said perfect. I was not afraid at all even if I knew I'm probs going to sing in front of about 500 people in 5ish minutes???? How??? I'm usually a ball of anxiety but here I was just proud and excited to sing my version of it.

I loved the Bretogne/French version (I've still no idea what were the words, but it rhymed super well and she sang well, but that was def NOT paris region French), cringed at some of the "translations" because they did not fit the lines and did not rhyme, sang along to Slovenian versions in Finnish, felt bad for one of them as the karaoke singer started at the wrong moment and Bojan spent most of their special moment trying to orchestrate the band.

When Bojan approached with "I think we still have a Slovenian version, OH NO, A FINNISH VERSION" I chortled, and felt the last bits of nervousness disappear. (Cue "some boat, titanic, oh no".) I had my ACTUALLY finger pointing moment, which, on point with my personality, telling him it's a hybrid version. I don't know what he meant with SUOMI SAA, but it was NOT full-on Suomi SAATANA, that much is certain. I quite like the idea/interpretation he was making a pun with SAA(tan)Are you ready? But who knows. Sad about missed chance to answer "ArE YoU???" now that I think about it, but at least I wasn't the only one who failed the moment :') . Speaking of cursewords though, a histronic youngster next to me did shout vittu though! I loved my spot but she was super annoying throughout the evening.

The Finnish version is in the beginning of this one, and the Arabic version right after Finnish version is AMAZING. The French version is on the first part, as well as Bojan going "uuu Finnish version? perfect".

Started in Slovene, which made him have a Ok?? face, but when I switched to my own Finnish version that rhymes with the Slovene version, he raised his brows and seemed so impressed that I just nodded to him, sending telepath(et)ic messages that yes, our languages match and rhyme, about time you collaborate with Jere. I think he remembered I asked for a hug in the afternoon, because he did not hug everyone during karaoke. Afternoon hug was better btw.

I love his little surprised smile right when I finish the first Finnish line on this one

I usually think quite a lot about how other people perceive me, but now I didn't give a single fuck, just enjoyed being the main character for 20 seconds, having this interaction with my blorbo. Forever grateful for the 4 different angles I received from friends I made in the queue, and 1 from a random guy who asked me after the concert if I'd like to receive a video he took of me singing. Even Vita was filming the whole thing with her big light + camera + phone ensemble. I often sing in my car, and even IMAGINING i'm singing karaoke makes my voice suddenly tiny and weak and compressed, so I'm overflowingly glad it went this well, you have no idea even if I've just bragged about it for 4 paragraphs.

I later realised I was the only one who didn't hold the mic themself, this is a clear example how I objectify the boys, seeing Bojan just as a mic stand.🫣😵‍💫

I got fluent Kiitos from Bojan, that guy needs to move to Finland he speaks Finnish so well. Also LMAO I forgot to sniff him in the afternoon, now I'm praying the snifff I took after karaoke wasn't too evident and doesn't show on Vita's video……….. Jere is wrong, Bojan does not smell like shit, but there were no parfume smell either? He just smells like nothing in a pleasant, pheromone rich way lol.

my translation: Sanje so tvojega okusa Aamuihin taas tuoksusi Neula ei haarukassa Sieluni on hukassa Etsimässä tietään luoksesi

I haven't figured how to translate the first line. I've been playing with "Makus' on tarrannut uniini", but it does not rhyme with the og well enough. Otherwise super proud of my version. Neula and haarukka are parts of compass, basically saying the compass is layed on the map the wrong way. 🧭

This is how small the place was??? I was in 3/4th row, and the hat guy in the right corner was right behind me during the concert so the club truly was tiny.

Apparently bubbles were not allowed on stage in Cafe de la danse? But some people had brought their own so we had bubbles anyway.

Jure exchanged his drumstick to a breadstick. I laughed because a) it was a clever pun and b) such a stereotypically French thing to bring a BAGUETTE wrapped in a napkin to a concert. Also no wonder boys are always sick, I don't even want to know how many people touched that bread before it was on stage.

Life is pain (in mouths)

We waited for the boys after the concert outside the venue in the rain, and they walked past quite quickly. Bojan stayed for 30 seconds to take a group selfie. <3

Honestly so happy I traveled there and met amazing people and surpassed myself on so many levels.

I feel like 2004 again, because that's when I last made a post this long on livejournal and also when I last was this hyped about a group.

I loved band's AMAZING OUTFITS in Café de la danse, everyone had some idrija lace on them, and I'm afraid my next special interest will be bobbin lace.

#joker out #cafe de la danse #my concerts #sys tour #umazane misli #bojan cvjetićanin #kris guštin #nace jordan #jan peteh #jure maček #metrijormaus

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ozzgin · 1 year ago

Note

I've been rewatching One Punch Man and the thought about a painfully average looking reader being so strong is stuck in my head

Like maybe the reader works at like a small restaurant that she's been working at for basically all her life and she just get so strong from doing basic chores and having the mental capacity to deal with bad customers

Maybe like one of the baki characters went to try the restaurant out and maybe gotten a big crush on the waiter, whose being harassed by some rando

But before the can tell the guy to scurry on out of here or get a swing at him, she just completely knocks him out with like a punch to the face or something, and maybe the guy was really big like nearly the size of a bear

Or we can take the Garou route and say that Yujiro decided to try the restaurant out just cause' and is like really demanding, enough to get the reader pissed and correct their behavior

And their way of correcting behavior is basically "stop that" and then BAM, they suddenly he's transported in an alleyway somewhere, conveniently forgetting what happened before

Ooo, just imagine the reaction of the baki characters like your crush basically is the strongest person in the world, Yujiro doesn't even compare

Knocked him away with a simple punch even when he's fully prepared for her

This silly idea basically was brewing in my mind, and since this has lots of Yuji bullying, I thought you might like it

Funnily enough I have an older request that was in queue to be answered with basically the same concept! By the way, turns out I've already written a reader knocking out Yuujirou in one blow! I hope I haven’t built myself a reputation as a Yuujirou bully, although this post won’t help my cause.

Also, the whole idea of reader being insanely strong from menial labor reminds me a lot of Hajime no Ippo. Main character turns out to have top tier boxing potential from working at his mom’s fishing business and carrying heavy crates for the clients. Safe to say I like the reasoning a lot!

Baki Headcanons: One Punch! Reader

I’m leaving Yuujirou as a final opponent so to say, because otherwise the whole thing would be finished in 5 minutes. Imagine the anime intro with slideshows of nature scenery, and the narrator dramatically elaborating the plot and explaining why Yuujirou is the strongest creature on Earth. And literally the next panel he’s unconscious and reader awkwardly stares at the camera. Narrator coughs and has to mumble “Well I guess that’s it” and the curtains fall. That was it. That was the whole story.

So I’m going to go for a random buff stranger to showcase Reader’s strength. You have just finished taking Baki’s order. Maybe he took some of the men out to discuss certain matters. Maybe he wants to ask Retsu, Katsumi, Jack and Hanayama about their encounter with Pickle before his fight, to get some insight. He’s heard Katsumi has a big crush on the waitress here, so he picked the spot more as a joke to tease the Karate master. While attending the table there’s giggles, side glances and elbow nudges and you can only wonder why Katsumi refuses to speak (usually he’s very chatty with you) and the others have a grin on their face.

As you walk away, you notice your newer coworker struggling to handle a customer. He’s bowing repeatedly and apologizing for his mistake to a man wearing an indifferent yet sour expression. The large man begins to raise his voice and throws in a few inappropriate insults, so you gently push your coworker away, hinting that he should leave it to you, and you promptly take his place.

The customer seems to think you’re some higher up, next in line to beg for his forgiveness or perhaps suggest a discount as a peace offering. Nonetheless, he wants to make sure you understand your situation, so he stands up. Before he can open his mouth, you loudly and curtly exclaim “We unfortunately do not accept this kind of behavior. Leave, now.”

Several people have now turned their heads as the tension increases. Katsumi is uneasy and the rest of the men are also quiet, observing the unfolding event. Baki discreetly exits his booth, ready to interfere in case the situation escalates.

The man is visibly angered by your lack of fear. Once several of his threats go unanswered, he lifts his hand. By this point Baki is walking towards you. You sigh, not wanting to cause a scene. The whole thing happens rather fast, no one is entirely sure what they just witnessed, but the window is shattered, the stranger is crumpled on the sidewalk and covered in glass shards and you’re standing next to his table, fist clenched and bloodied up.

Calling the men ‘baffled’ would be an understatement. You have to explain several times that no, you’re not a professional fighter and you’ve never trained a day in your life. In fact, you’ve been working at this restaurant from the moment you could walk. It’s your family’s treasured business and you can’t see yourself doing anything else. Retsu is bewildered and demands to have your skills tested, because you could turn out to be a fearful martial arts user. A whole argument ensues and you compromise on joining them to the Underground Arena to demonstrate how far your strength goes. This evening only, and then you’re back serving customers.

Once you defeat Yuujirou, however, you’ve sealed your fate. You can’t just demolish the Ogre with one blow and walk away as if nothing happened…

*Now this is just a random thought that immediately came to mind when reading the request. Since Reader can easily beat Yuujirou, imagine the amount of people feeling like they’ve finally been avenged. It could even be a whole arranged spectacle. You know those fairs from cartoons, where one person sits above a small pool and you pay to throw a ball towards a target in order to drop them into the water? Same concept, really. There’d be a never ending line of people that have been wronged by Yuujirou somehow, so they throw some coins and Reader goes in for another punch. Yuujirou destroyed your gym? Threatened you on the street? Scared you so much you wet yourself? Gather around and enjoy the show for a small price.

#baki #baki the grappler #baki headcanons #baki hanma

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vulpinmusings · 9 months ago

Text

My speculations on Indigo Park

I'm putting this post under a read-more in case it finds someone who hasn't played Indigo Park yet and wants to experience it blind.

(BTW, it's free and takes about an hour to finish so just go play it. The horror value's kinda tame overall, but trigger warning for blood splatter at the end.)

Why Rambley doesn't recognize Ed/the Player: The collectables notes make it obvious that our Character, Ed, used to be a regular guest at Indigo Park as a kid. Yet, when Rambley goes to register them at the beginning he says he doesn't recognize Ed's face. I've seen speculation that this might be due either to Ed's age or the facial data database being wiped or corrupted after the park's closure. However, I think there's another possibility.

The Rambley AI Guide was a relatively new addition to the Park. Indigo Park is essentially Disneyland; it's been around for a long time and I rather doubt that the technology for a sentient AI park guide was available on opening day. Rambley mostly appears on modern-looking flat-screens, but in the queue for the railroad he pops up on small CRTS, so technology has advanced over the park's life time. I suspect that Rambley as an AI was implemented a short time before whatever caused the park to be shut down, and the reason that Ed's face isn't already in the system is because Ed just never went to the Park during the time between Rambley's implementation and the closure.

Rambley needs Ed just to move around. Rambley claims he'd been stuck in the entrance area since the closure. That might imply that as an AI guide he's not permitted to move around inside the Park unless he's attached to a guest, and he has to stick close to them. He's probably linked to the Critter Cuff we wear, which would explain why he insists we get it and doesn't just override the turnstile or something. He still needs cameras to see us and TVs to communicate, but it's the Critter Cuff that determines which devices he's able to use at a given moment.

There are other AI Guides. Rambley's limitations in where in the park he can be seems inconvenient for an AI that's meant to assist all the park's guests. Perhaps during normal operations he was less limited because every guest had a Critter Cuff on, but that might have put too much strain on his processing if he was the only AI avatar. Ergo, some or all of the other Indigo characters could have been used as AI guides as well; either a guest would be assigned to one character through the whole park or the others would take over for Rambley in their themed areas while the raccoon managed the main street. Due to the sudden closure, the other AIs may be stuck in certain sections of the Park like Rambley was stuck at the entrance, and we'll interact with them and/or free them as part of the efforts to fix the place up.

The "mascots" are unrelated to the AI. But Rambley believes they are linked. The official music video for Rambely Review has garnered a lot of speculation for how different Rambley's perception of how the Mollie Macaw chase ended is to what we saw in the game. I'm not 100% sold on the idea that Rambley flat out doesn't know that the Mollie mascot got killed. His decision to drop his act and acknowledge the park's decayed state is because he sees how freaked out Ed is by the Mollie chase, and he seems to glance down toward Mollie's severed head when he trails off without describing the mascots. HOWEVER, I don't think he sees Mollie as being truly dead. He's possibly come to the conclusion (or rationalization) that the AI guides, based on the actual characters, are stuck inside the feral fleshy mascots and the mascot's death has led to Mollie's AI being liberated. This idea will stick with him until such time as we encounter an AI character before dealing with the associated mascot (likely Lloyd).

Salem is central to the park's closure. All we really know about Salem the Skunk is what we see in the Rambley's Rush arcade game, where Salem uses a potion to turn Mollie into a boss for us to fight. This reflects real world events, although whether Salem instigated the disaster due to over-committing to their characterization or was merely a catalyst that unwittingly turned the already dubious new mascots into outright dangers remains to be seen.

Rambley's disdain for Lloyd is unwarranted. Collectables commentary indicates that Lloyd's popularity may have been eclipsing Rambley's, and that ticks Rambley off. That's not the fault of the Lloyd(s) we're going to interact with, however. That's on Indigo's marketing for emphasizing Lloyd so much. And who knows, maybe there were plans for other retro-style plushies, but the Park got shut down before those could come out. Either way, while Lloydford L. Lion may be a bit of an arrogant overdramatic actor, the AI Guide version of him isn't going to come across as deserving Rambley's vitriol, and that's going to be the cause of one chapter's main conflict.

#indigo park #rambley the raccoon #mollie macaw #finley #lloyd the lion

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persephonewritessometimes · 2 years ago

Text

Moon Song / part three: and you might be dying

Summary: Hotch and Y/N are on a break...for a few days. Things get complicated when they're on a case together.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x (AFAB) Reader

Word Count: 4058

Warnings: BLOOD, GUNSHOT WOUND, slight PANIC ATTACK, DRINKING, distressed!reader, arguing, toxic!hotch, slightly toxic!reader, lots of emotions, infidelity, mentions of cheating/adultery

Playlist: Link

This work is meant for readers aged 18 and over. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

-2 Weeks Later-

Our “break” lasted all of a week. He caved first, showing up at karaoke night at the bar to hang out with the rest of the team, but I knew why he was there. He corners me as I come out of the bathroom.

“Y/N, can we talk please?”

“I’m not sober enough to talk to you right now,” I mutter, but I don’t hesitate to follow him when he grabs my hand and leads me through the crowd and out the door into the chilly late November air.

“I can’t do this.”

“Do what? Date me or not date me. Because you give mixed signals sometimes.”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can’t not date you. I need you. You…you make me happy.”

Now it’s my turn to sigh. “Hotch, we both know how this ends. We fuck, then we fight, then we both get hurt and agree not to do this again, and guess what, we do it again. I’m getting tired of this. Unless you leave Haley, I’m not interested.” I turn and head back inside, head now pounding from the confrontation and alcohol running through my body.

“You okay?” Penelope asks when I make my way back into the bar.

“Yeah, just hot.”

“Yeah, you are girlfriend!” She shouts, and I let out a laugh.

“I’m gonna sing a song, I think.”

“Please, grace us with your voice, Y/N! I’m getting sick and tired of listening to middle-aged men butcher every song.” Emily groans. JJ agrees with her, and I make my way to the woman running the karaoke machine. I ask if she has a specific song, and she says she does. It queues up and I get on the small stage, taking the mic out of the mic stand. The opening chords start, and I sing:

“Step one, you say we need to talk. He walks, you say sit down, it’s just a talk. He smiles politely back at you; you stare politely right on through. Some sort of window to your right, as he goes left and you stay right. Between the lines of fear and blame, you begin to wonder why you came. Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend, somewhere along in the bitterness. And I would have stayed up with you all night, had I known how to save a life.” I’m singing with all the emotions that are running through my body, singing about him even though he’s probably left already. I get to the second verse, glancing over at the table our team had commandeered and almost stutter when I see Hotch standing there. He’s watching me with an almost sad expression. I watch as JJ and Reid look at each other, then at him. He doesn’t notice, just continues watching me. I finish the song and the bar is in an uproar, asking for an encore, which I politely decline and hop off the stage. As I approach the table, Hotch blinks hard a few times, like how I do when I’m holding back tears.

Oh. Oh. That’s when I decide to take pity on him. I need him. As much as I want to deny it, I need him too. And he needs me too.

“I’m heading out for the night, walk me home, Hotch?” He looks at me, surprised, but nods, offering me his hand after I slide my coat on.

The walk home is quiet, neither of us wanting to disturb the temporary peace that had been established. I unlock your door and say,

“Listen. Okay. I need you too. But I will not be your side piece. If you want me, you have to leave her. I’m sick of feeling dirty and used.” He’s quiet, looking down at me.

“Okay.”

I shake my head in surprise. “What?”

“I’ll leave her.” He must see the confusion written all over my face because he says, “Come on, don’t look so surprised. We’ve been seeing each other for eight months now, obviously, I would come around to the idea at some point.”

“I – huh, what the fuck is going on right now?” I ask, flustered by his answer and the alcohol.

“Now, can I come inside or not?” He’s smiling now, looking for approval. I nod, still in disbelief. I’m happy, but I feel like the other shoe will drop at some point. I’ll take what I can get until then though.

-3 Days Later-

“Okay team, we’ve got a case. Multiple murders in Front Royal, all young women. No other connection other than the fact they’re all in their mid to late twenties.” Hotch says, handing us each a file.

"Great,” I mutter. I just love when I fit the description.

“Front Royal? That’s like only an hour and a half from here.” Reid says. “Curious that there have been multiple murders only an hour from our headquarters.”

“Exactly. There were two weeks between the first and second kill and only two days between the fifth and sixth. We need to catch this guy before he devolves.” Hotch says. “We’re driving, no need to fly. We leave in 30 minutes.” And with that, he leaves the room.

We all get up, gathering our go-bags and anything that would be of importance, and we’re ready within 15 minutes. As we wait for Hotch in the parking lot, Reid comes over to me.

“Walk with me?” I nod and follow him as he walks a little way from the group.

“You and Hotch okay?” He asks, side-eyeing me. “You seem happier than usual.”

“Gee, thanks for noticing. And yes. He told me he’s leaving Haley.” Reid looks at me in surprise now, eyebrows raised.

“Oh! That’s um – that’s good?”

“Why did that sound like a question?” I ask, grabbing his arm.

“It’s just…do you think that it’s the best decision? I’m not trying to make assumptions here, well, maybe I am, but do you really think you and Hotch are good for each other? One minute you’re fighting, the next you’re in love. It’s just a lot, emotionally speaking.” He trails off towards the end.

“I – don’t know,” I whisper.

“Has he told you he’ll leave Haley before?”

“Never directly, but yeah.”

“So why is this time any different?”

I have no answer for that, but Hotch shows up and we all pile into two cars and head off to Front Royal. I’m with Hotch, JJ, and Emily in the backseat. Rossi is driving the other car, and Derek and Reid are with him.

“Sorry, you got saddled with us girls,” I say, poking fun at Hotch.

“Yeah, well, after the last time you drove, I don’t exactly trust you in any vehicle.” He jokes back.

“It wasn’t my fault! There was a squirrel in the road, and that light pole came out of nowhere.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night, Y/N.” He smiles at me, and I feel butterflies in my tummy. Despite that, I still think about if Reid is right or not. I’m lost in thought most of the drive there, making a pros and cons list in my head. My phone chirps. It’s JJ.

JJ: What are you thinking so hard about up there?

Y/N: Just something Spencer said to me. It’s not a big deal.

JJ: You look like you’re about to explode from how hard you’re thinking.

I let out a quick laugh, Hotch glances at me, confused.

“Oh, it’s my sister.” You say, waving the phone.

Y/N: How dare you make me laugh.

JJ: Someone’s got to! Now take a deep breath, you can think about whatever you’re thinking about later. Okay?

Y/N: Okay mom.

JJ laughs.

“Okay, are you two texting each other? Because you can just talk, we’re all in the same car.” Emily says a laugh in her voice.

“Wow, way to call us out Emily!” I say.

Before long, we pull up to the police station and pile out, Hotch introducing himself to Chief Montgomery, a tall woman in her late forties, long brown hair graying towards the roots. She’s gracious and welcomes us in, giving us the conference room to work the case. We get set up, each getting assigned tasks. I’m tasked with organizing the information as it comes in, stuck at the police station.

“Come on, Hotch, everyone else gets to go out and actually do something and I’m stuck here.”

“Yes, you are. I won’t risk sending you out in the field when you’re in his target demographic.” He lowers his voice. “I can’t lose you, okay?” I just nod at that, resigning myself to the conference room as he leaves.

It’s slow for an hour or so, then the rest of the team comes in waves with loads of information. It’s like a race trying to put it all together and finish it. We’re getting close when Hotch’s phone rings. He excuses himself to answer it. I don’t know why, but I trail him out of the conference room.

“Hey, sweetie? What’s up?” My stomach drops. “Mhmm, yeah, of course. It should only be a couple of days and then I’ll be back home. I miss you too. Love you.” He hangs up and turns around to see me standing there, arms crossed, pissed as all get out. “Oh fuck. Y/N, it’s not, just, please - ”

“I thought you were going to leave her,” I say quietly, still coming to terms with the fact that I am not enough for him. I don’t think I ever will be.

He sighs, “Y/N, it’s complicated.”

“Do you think I don’t know that? What does that make me, your mistress? I can’t keep playing this game Hotch.”

“I care about you, Y/N. You have to believe me.”

“Then fucking show me! Why are you still with her? She treats you like shit and you know she’s cheating on you.” My voice gets louder, and I swallow the shakiness down.

“And what am I doing with you?” He hisses, getting in my face. “You’re as willing a participant as I am, we’re both to blame here.”

I look up at him, letting the fire in my eyes shine bright. “You never should have kissed me.” He blinks, and regret flashes over his face. “I will not be someone you fuck around with just to get back at your wife. I’m a person too, I have feelings too.”

“What do you want me to do? She’s the mother of my child, Y/N. And last time I checked, you aren’t.” I take a step back as if he had physically pushed me. He should of, it would have hurt less. Tears fill my eyes; I say nothing as I turn and walk back into the conference room.

“Oh, fuck no, I’m not letting this one slide.” JJ spits out, walking out of the conference room and slamming the door behind her. “How dare you?” I watch as she points a finger in his face now, his own treatment turned on him.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Don’t act stupid, Hotch, we all heard you. I think half the fucking precinct heard you. What a nice show you put on for everyone there.” JJ stares him down and I watch Hotch as he starts to look sheepish. Everyone is staring at the scene going down right outside the not-very-soundproof glass.

“I - ” He starts.

“She miscarried your baby. Two weeks ago. At her birthday party.” The color drains from Hotch’s face. “Just thought you should know.” With that, JJ turns and walks back into the conference room.

I’m not mad she told him. It would have come out eventually. I feel a hand on my shoulder, it’s Rossi.

“I’m sorry, kid, I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay. I’m over it now.” I say quietly, starting to dig through the mounds of paper we had acquired. Everyone watches. “Okay, does everyone want to stare at me or do we want to catch a murderer?” I spit out, and after that everyone jumps into action. Hotch doesn’t join us, I glance back and see him sitting in a chair, just staring at the wall.

I run into JJ in the bathroom, and she says, “Hey, I’m sorry I told him, I just couldn’t see him treat you like that.”

“It’s okay, JJ. He would have found out eventually. He looks shellshocked though, do you have any smelling salts?” I grin at her.

“How do you do it?”

“Do what?” I ask, confused.

“Crack jokes after everything. It’s like, you’re so full of light and life and laughter despite everything. I don’t know how you do it.” She says, shaking her head as she grabs some paper towels to dry her hands.

“I don’t know. I guess, yeah, I’ve had some shitty things happen to me, but there are so many good things that are gonna happen in the future. I focus on that.”

“You are so different from him.” She says, looking me over. “I’ll never understand it.”

“Honestly, I don’t think I’ll ever understand it either. We just click, yeah, we fight, but I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Ever. Sometimes I’m overwhelmed by emotions. Reid… asked me earlier if I think Hotch and I are good for each other. I’m still not sure of the answer, but I know, that wherever I go, somehow, my path always leads back to him. That has to mean something, right?” I smile at her.

“You deserve to feel loved, Y/N, without restraint and without regret. I hope someday he figures that out.” A lump forms in my throat.

“Yeah, me too,” I say, and we exit the bathroom.

We walk back into the conference room and see everyone in their bulletproof vests.

“While you two were gossiping in the bathroom, we found a possible suspect. Get your vests on.” Rossi says, and JJ and I rush to get our vests on. We pile into the cars, this time I ride with Rossi, Reid, and Derek. Reid rides in the back with me and pats my hand as we speed away.

“You okay?” He whispers.

“I’m fine. Let’s just catch this guy so I can go home.” I say. We pile out of the cars downtown, it’s seedy here, with lots of broken windows, graffiti, and alleys.

“Everyone split up in pairs, Y/N you’re with me,” Hotch says, his gaze leaving no room for argument.

We split off in pairs, JJ tagging along behind Hotch and me, but keeping a healthy distance away.

“Why didn’t you - ” He starts, and I cut him off.

“Hotch. We are not doing this right now! We have something more important to do. So please, shut the fuck up, and let’s do our job.” I stride past him. “I’ll take the left side; you take the right.” I give him no time to argue and turn down the alley on the left. It’s damp here, and as I round the corner, I hear the click of the safety being turned off on a gun. I slowly turn around to see a gun leveled at my head. “Johnathan, you don’t want to do this.”

“No, no, I think I do.” He says, cocking his head. Everything slows down, it feels like I’m stuck in a vat of molasses – there’s no getting out of this for me. I glance at the hole in the building right beside us. “No one’s coming to save you. It’s just us.”

“I know why you did it.” He pauses.

“All these years women have rejected you, so what better thing to do than deal the ultimate rejection – killing them. Then they’ll never reject you again, will they?” I’m scrambling for anything at this point.

“You think you’re so smart because you’re in the FBI, you’re just like every bitch I’ve killed. Pretty, young, and clueless.” He takes a step closer; I swallow hard and close my eyes. If I’m going out this way I’m not going to watch while it happens. I hear the trigger pull and flinch waiting for the impact – it never comes. Instead, I hear a second gunshot and I’m shoved to the ground, and open my eyes to see the unsub dead, and Hotch unconscious on the pavement.

“No, no, don’t do this to me, Hotch. Please, I can’t do this without you. I’m sorry, please just wake up.” I’m shaking his shoulders, but he doesn’t rouse. I start methodically checking for a gunshot wound, and see blood blooming across his lower abdomen. “HELP! PLEASE! WE NEED HELP HERE! OFFICER DOWN!” I scream, pressing my hands into his stomach to try and stop the bleeding. JJ rounds the corner first.

“Oh fuck.” She says, but everything sounds like I’m underwater. I’m sobbing, begging anyone who is in the great big sky who’s listening, please don’t let him die. Don’t let him die. Don’t let him die. He coughs and groans, a hand coming up to grab my wrist.

“Hotch? Oh my god, thank god. I thought I lost you.” The words fall out of my mouth. He grimaces, still lost between the lines of conscious and unconscious.

“I love you.” He whispers and then loses consciousness again.

“No, no, no, wake up, wake up, WAKE UP!” I’m chanting. The paramedics show up and move me out of the way to compress the wound and get him in an ambulance. I get in the back with him, holding his limp hand despite his blood covering them.

We barrel our way towards Warren Memorial Hospital, Hotch never regaining consciousness the entire ride. They start a blood transfusion; my hands are shaking as they ask me questions. I answer them as succinctly as I can, never taking my eyes off him. They wheel him immediately into surgery when we get there, and I’m not allowed in the OR. The rest of the team shows up a few minutes later, Derek staying behind to take care of the unsub’s remains and give a report to the police. I sit in the ER waiting room for thirty minutes, not talking to anyone, not letting anyone touch me. Covered in his blood and mute, I sit. Waiting for any news.

“Anyone here for an Aaron Hotchner?” A doctor asks, walking out. I stand up quickly.

“Me. I mean, we are.” I say.

“He’s out of surgery, bullet came out easily, just needed some minor repairs and stitches. One person can come back and see him right now, he’s still unconscious.” I glance back at the team.

“Go, Y/N. It should be you.” JJ says, and tears spring to my eyes. I follow the doctor through the maze-like hospital until he drops me off at Hotch’s room. He’s lying on the bed, his head slightly inclined. He looks so pale against the stark white of the hospital sheets. I walk over, pull up a chair, and take his hand.

“You are sick, and you’re married, and you might be dying,” I take a shuddering breath, “But you’re holding me like water in your hands,” I say nothing more, simply resting my head on the bed, and I fall asleep. I’m awoken a little while later by JJ sticking her head in the door.

“Y/N. Haley is on her way up. You need to go.” I nod and get up as quickly as my still sleep-addled brain will. I kiss the back of his hand before placing it gently back on the bed, I turn to go, but I’m not fast enough. Haley is standing in the doorway watching me with narrowed eyes.

“So, you’re the bitch who’s fucking my husband.” I freeze – I was so close. I almost made it out, through the doorway that she’s now standing in, blocking my only exit.

“I’m sorry,” I say plainly, and she blinks. “If you move, I’ll be gone for good. I promise.” She sighs, rubbing her eyes.

“I assume the bullet was intended for you, and he jumped in front of you?” She asks quietly.

“Pushed me to the ground is more like it,” I say, toying with the bandage on my elbow that I had landed on.

“He must really be in love with you to do that.” Now it’s my turn to blink in surprise. I’m not sure if she meant to say that out loud. “Look,” she sighed again, “We’ve been on the rocks for a while now. I’m just glad he has someone to go to, even if that’s not me.” She steps aside and I make my way toward the now-free doorway. She grabs my arm before I’m out. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at him. Don’t let him punish you for what happens between us.”

“It’s a little too late for that,” I say. “Our…relationship is far from healthy. It’s a fucked-up mess if I’m being honest.”

“So, he’s managed to fuck up not one, but two women.” She gives me a sad smile and releases go of my arm.

“Can I ask you something?” I say timidly.

“I’m an open book. Unlike him.” She smiles again.

“Do you love him?” She pauses in contemplation.

“I think a long time ago, I used to love him, but no, I don’t love him anymore.”

“Then why are you still together?” My voice cracks on the last word and her eyes soften.

“Habit? Familiarity? Hell if I know. I think just because of Jack. But god knows what kind of influence he’s getting when his parents are too busy yelling at each other to pay attention to him.” She pushes her hair behind her ears nervously. “I don’t know where to go from here.” A rare moment of vulnerability from the woman who had just called me a bitch a few moments ago.

“There are only two ways to go: forward together, or forward separately. If you’ll excuse me.” And with that, I make it out of the room, ignoring JJ calling my name and sprinting to the elevator, making it barely inside before I’m breaking into gasping sobs. I run into Rossi while leaving the hospital – I’m sure a look a mess, covered in blood, eyes puffy and red, bewildered.

“I need a break.” I gasp out, and he regards me with sad eyes.

“However much time you need, Y/N. Come back when you’re ready. If you want to come back at all. No one would blame you if you left for good.” He would.

“Thank you. Now give me the keys.”

“I don’t think you’re in any state to be driving, Y/N.” He says kindly.

“I’ll take her,” Reid says, stepping out from beside one of the cars. “You’re FBI-sanctioned taxi driver is here.” He says, extending a hand to me. I let out a broken laugh and take it, Rossi hands him the keys and we barrel back towards Quantico. I call my sister on the drive.

“I’m coming home for a little while.”

“Oh, thank god. How soon?”

“I’ll be on the first flight I can.”

“Is everything okay?” I can hear her worried tone through the phone.

“Everything is…fucked up. I just need some time away.”

“Of course, Y/N. Let me know when your flight is, I’ll come with Bobby to pick you up from the airport.” I hang up the phone, looking at my hands. Hotch’s blood has dried under my nails. I start to feel like I’m suffocating like the air is crowding in my throat.

“Reid. Pull over at that gas station please.” He doesn’t ask questions, just immediately puts the turn signal on, pulling into the closest parking spot. I sprint inside and into one of the bathrooms, turning the water on as hot as it will go, and sticking my hands in the stream of water. I don’t notice the heat. I feel numb. I’m gasping, wheezing, trying to get my breath out as I’m scrubbing relentlessly at my hands desperately trying to get the blood off of them. My vision starts to black out and I stumble back, into someone’s arms. It’s Reid.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you. Let it all out, I’m here.” I turn and bury my face in his chest, trying to remember what it felt like before I met Hotch.

---

part four: smoke signals missing my heart

---

TAG LIST (want to be added? click here!): @morgthemagpie @rousethemouse @hausofwhores @stxlemate @ssamorganhotchner @art-and-thoughts @sebastiansstanswhore

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #hotch x reader #hotch x y/n #hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #moon song hotch

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stell404 · 2 years ago

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𝗜𝗜. 𝗙𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗬 𝗝𝗘𝗪𝗘𝗟𝗦

𝗖𝗢𝗔𝗟 𝗧𝗢 𝗗𝗜𝗔𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗗, 𝗦𝗢𝗟𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗙𝗢𝗢𝗟𝗦

🎧

Family jewels masterlist | back to navigation Parings: Sully family x reader, jake sully x daughter!reader, spider x reader (platonic) Word count: 706 Notes: This is just a filler chapter, so if you don't want to read it, don't. I promise it wont affect the plot in the future (spider and readers relation might be mentioned though). I understand you guys don't like spider but like I think his character is so interesting so yeah. Also to explain the title, the line "coal to diamond, sold to fools" refers to the myth that diamonds come from coal, they don't, but some people believe it. I like to think of it as a metaphor, that the family is fake, you only see what you want to see—like they produce coal but you see diamond, and people are fools to believe it, get it? Anyway sorry for the long ramble, I just want to show people my thought process for the chapter name, if you want to ask about the last chapters title, just go to my "chat box"!! Taglist: @lorre-verie @eywas-heir @damiiworld @arianapjs @arminsgfloll @buterccup @ifuckinghatemathrahhhhhh @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @inluvwithneteyam @il0vejj @neteyamforlife @ducks118 @ssc7514 @liyahsocorro @saltedcoffeescotch

🎧

The morning after the incident Jake grounded them from flying, forbidden them from getting out. This did not apply to [Name], she didn't have an Ikran she's always stuck there anyway—well that's what Jake believes.

All those times stuck in the cave that High camp resided, she had found herself a way out. At the darkest part of the cave, the very back, there was a small opening able to fit girls her age. She gathered the vines around to make herself a small rope to help her get in and out the cave.

As she was getting out someone behind her spoke up, "[Name] what are you doing, you're already in so much trouble as it is, don't make it worse."

She looked back to see who it was, and to no surprise it was Neteyam.

"Relax, I’m just meeting up with Spider," she replied.

Spider was her best friend, the human boy who was left behind. Jake and Neytiri referred to him as the "stray cat" who started following them. It was as clear as a clean glass window that her parents hated Spider, he's their enemy's son after all; but is that a good enough reason to hate him?

Some people of the clan, mainly the older and more mature ones, praise Neytiri and Jake for "taking him in ''. They get praised because people think they love him. They get praised for the facade they put up, it's crazy that the people believe them, what a bunch of fools.

In a way, [Name] and Spider relate to each other. Both feel like they don't belong, with [Name] not being able to achieve anything whilst all her siblings have already done a lot, and with spider not being Na'vi—getting called a "Demon"—and being left behind by the humans—his family—the only ones that truly cared for him.

The truth is, he has no family. The Sully's are the closest thing he has to one, but even they hate him; he could feel it in Jake and Neytiri's stares, he could feel how their eyes peered into his with hatred.

They were sitting on a small island in the Hallelujah mountains, just near High camp. The sky was an amazing shade of light blue, the light of the sun hitting the white soft clouds perfectly making some parts of it look like they glow

"I mean—I just don't get it, what did I do wrong? Why does your mom and dad hate me?" Spider ranted to [Name], gesturing his hands to the cave where High camp is.

"Stop moving! Do you want to mess up your braid?" she exclaimed, she was braiding his hair at the bottom to imitate a Na'vi's queue, for him to feel like he fits in more. In just a few seconds, she finished the braid. She immediately sat next to Spider, they sat far on the edge, their feet dangling off.

"Also they don't hate you," she added, "they just..." she trailed off, she wanted to find an excuse for parents' behavior towards the human boy, but there just isn't one.

"They hate me, you don't have to excuse their behavior...I'm just gonna be alone forever...I guess," Spider said, a small sad sigh escaping his lips.

"Well, if it makes you feel a little bit better, they hate me too, you know. And you have me, I'm alone too, we can be alone with each other."

"Your people hate me as well, I got beat up by some guy around our age once, when we went back to the village for a visit," he added.

"Ugh! Those assholes! I'll exile them from the clan!" she exclaimed, she knew the boys hated him but she didn't know he got beat up.

Spider simply chuckled at his friend's words, "You don't have the power to do that, [Name]."

"I am the Princess of the Omatikaya clan and the next Olo'eytktan." she said with a sly smile.

"Neteyam is the next Olo'eyktan." Spider chuckled.

The two kids continue their conversation, laughs and chuckles can be heard.

They both felt alone, two lonely people finding comfort in the presence of one another. They were alone, yes, but they were alone together.

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kuwdora · 9 months ago

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hiiiii!, you were one of the og vidders from LJ vidding community days and i've always admired your vids and skills from afar, so:

12, 13, 26 for vidding ask!

Oooh hiiiii there. You are so sweet! You don’t have to admire from afar! Come sit on the couch with me and we can squee together. You can ask me anything you'd like!! (I love your Andor vid btw, I think it’ll be popping out of my queue any day now.) Most underrated vid that you wished had gotten more views?

I love that 80% of people so far have asked this question because it means I can answer with different vids each time. This is a loaded question, in my opinion, and actually one that shows up on the end-of-year vidding reflections I do nearly every year - and I always never know how to answer.

I learned early on when I looked at the YouTube analytics and found most people don’t actually finish vids they click on in my catalogue, which means maybe they weren’t the audience for it anyway.

It’s also a matter of audiences being able to find my vids and know I’ve made them. I’ve never prioritized learning how to do metadata on YouTube for my videos to show up more in searches. I also am terrible at crossposting and archiving my vids in multiple places for people to find them.. So there’s tons of people who might not even know I’ve made something they’d like to see. Especially since I’ve been doing it for so long and moved through different fannish platforms along thet way.

Here is my Toshiko Sato from Torchwood vid that I made in 2008 to The Ranctouer’s “Steady As She Goes.” I think this can qualify as underappreciated. Hope you enjoy!

youtube

Vid that took you the longest the edit?

Since you know me from way back in the day, I’ll answer this with something I’ve talked about in great before that I think you might like to read (if you haven’t already!): High Voltage, my Stargate Ancients fanvid. It took me ~5 years to make. But I actually spent most of those years rewatching the show and thinking about the song and watching a lot of vids and how they told stories. It took me more time to figure out how to tell a subtextual narrative about a group of characters (the Ancients) and across a 3-show franchise that the showrunners never had fully tied together. You can read more about my years-long experience learning how to make High Voltage here on tumblr as well as over here because I really can write like 6,000 words about it. Any vidding rituals you have?

I always try to export drafts of my vids and try to remember upload them cloud storage so that even in the worse case scenario that my hard drive fails that I still have a copy of it somewhere. I had a hard drive failure recently and I actually hadn’t backed up a lot of those files to my cloud storage so there’s a lot of old unfinished stuff that I love and won’t finish but I don’t have a chance to revisit like a beloved trinket on a shelf anymore. (Archive and backup everything, ritualize that as much as possible in your own lives and projects!)

Also? My vid draft file naming convention: kuwdrafta_vidsong-name[date].mp4 Thank you for the lovely asks!! Get to Know the Vidder ask game! Send me an ask!

#vidder ask game #viddingdora #vidding #the vidding process #the creative process #askdora #answerdora #wondersmith-and-sons #fanvids #fan vids #fan videos #fan edit #textpost #my vids

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whoishotteranimepolls · 11 months ago

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Major Update

The request will be opening soon because I'm down to like the most obscure requests that I'm actually struggling to find photos for. So in preparation of this I have to get a lot of announcements out of the way so this post might make a lot of people angry. Might make some of you happy But I need to get this out of the way before I open up the request again.

Let's start with the things that I know are going to piss people off as of right now. No. Webcomics no. Webtoons. Yes, I do know several webtoons/webcomics have been turned into anime. Those will be allowed but that's because they're anime now. Also no mechs. However, this is just for now. Remember I've only been doing this blog for maybe 3 months. So let me get more into the groove of things before we add on all of those things. So maybe when I've been doing this for 6 months to a year we can start allowing that Web comics, webtoons and mechs but I'm already struggling with keeping up with requests and keeping enough stuff in the queue as is. So I don't want to complicate things even further and make things as easy as I can on myself. Now there is a reason for this because I may be changing jobs soon and I don't want to have to put the blog on temporary hiatus during that transition.

Now on to the next thing and this is probably going to make a lot of people happy but people please do not make me regret this decision. But, after hearing the many lamentations from mostly the Naruto fandom, much personal debate and seeing how a similar blog handles things. I have decided to lower the minimum age for the polls to 16. Now that means minors can and probably will be matched up against each other and against 18+ characters. Please don't come at me about that choice, these characters are fictional. You can't hurt them, and a blog like this isn't going to normalize preying on minors. YES it's wrong in real life, but anime teenagers are not normal teenagers. I literally just finished an anime about a assassin trying to get back to his wife. He was 16 and had a wife I swore he was at least 20 sometimes anime ages don't make sense. Please don't start anything or I will start blocking. But for those of you who don't want to participate in those polls, I will make a special tag so you can block all polls that have confirmed 16 and 17-year-old characters So you can block the tag so you don't have to see it and participate You will be able to find it when I update the rules post in the next day or two when I have everything finalized. Now this is subject to change if people do not behave. So do not start attacking me because I allow this or I will bump that age back up to 18. Do not make me regret this

Now when it comes to requests you have 10 characters and can request up to Four-way matchups. I don't care how you break that down so you can do two four-way polls and a two-way poll or request five two-way polls don't care. Figure it out. I'm pretty sure everyone can do math but the max is 10 characters However, you want to break it down with two-way, three-way and four-way polls.

I'm also setting a limit on how many times you can request a day. Please only do it twice. That's up to 20 characters. So everyone gets a chance to request polls

Remember Six-Way polls are not something you can request directly. They are something I make as a special thing, when the queue leans too much into one character or fandom. However, you can suggest a theme. I have done fire and ice powers. You all seem to like the goth girl and the anime men in suits. You get the idea. You can always put some theme ideas at the bottom of your request. So I can add them to my list of themes that I have saved when I need to make a six-way poll

I think that is all the major announcements So now with these updates everyone can start thinking of the new matchup request because they will be opening up soon and that request box fills up fast

#major update #not a poll #announcement post #blog update

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cfr749 · 11 months ago

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20 questions for fic writers

tagged by the wonderfully kind and lovely @coraclavia. If you haven't checked out her work, go do it right now!!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 19

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 354,235

3. What fandoms do you write for? The Rookie!

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Beneath Your Beautiful... queue Isn't it ironic by Alanis Morissette 😬

Want You to Stay

However Do You Want Me

One Time Thing

Lucy's Little Secret

5. Do you respond to comments?

I absolutely try to, but sometimes I get behind. Tbh I usually want to respond the minute I see one come in, but don't want to scare anyone lmao. But I read every single one, often multiple times. And you might just get a response from me two years later 😂

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh man... I think this has to be We Built Sandcastles, because I have yet to give it an ending and it hurts me too. I'm so sorry. 😭

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I'm gonna go with However Do You Want Me... what's happier than banging on an airplane to save the world?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not really... thankfully, 99.9% of the interaction I've had on my fics has been positive and that's a testament to how wonderfully supportive this fandom is of its creators 😭

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yup... the horny kind? Lol... queue Lovin on Me by Jack Harlow. I am pretty vanilla, and I do usually focus a lot on the emotional aspects over the physical. I also generally prefer writing the foreplay over the actual tactics of banging, but I try.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Lol... well... one time when I was 13 I may have written an AU where Justin Timberlake and Nick Carter were normal boys attending the same high school 😂...

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Thankfully, I don't think so!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don't think so, but any time someone does comment on one of my fics in another language, I am just honored and blown away that they found it entertaining enough to work through the language barrier.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! Want You to Stay with the amazing @poppypickle. I will always be so thankful that the Chenford fandom brought us together, and so grateful for that creative experience. Truly one of the coolest things I've ever done. ❤️

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I think Chenford still holds this crown.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

We Built Sandcastles, but I actually haven't written anything I've truly given up on. I still think about this universe and write down bits and pieces here and there. I'm also still working on Beneath Your Beautiful!

16. What are your writing strengths?

Weird reality TV AUs? Sexual tension? Feelings?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Probably too much exposition / time in the character's heads spelling out their motivations vs. letting readers come to their own conclusions.

I'm not always consciously aware of it in my own writing, but sometimes I suspect I'm a little sappier than what I'd normally I prefer to read.

Also I'm slow and sometimes leave my readers hanging for extremely long periods of time (I'm so sorry).

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Depends on the context, but, for me, I'd have a hard time without a native speaker to consult with. No strong feelings against it though.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

BSB + NSYNC

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I'm going to go with one I haven't mentioned yet, which is Cruel Summer because that fic was utterly batshit, came out of literally nowhere, and was so much fun to write!

Thanks for the tag, Cora!

I am tagging @poppypickle @queseraone @goodgirlssayiloveyoutoo @rememberthismomentx @thisnightissparkling089 @makeitastrength and @summerongrand (apologies if y'all have already done this and I missed it)!

#chenford fanfic #my asks #see lana ramble #chenford fanfiction #chenford fic #writers ask game #fanfic #fanfiction

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veggiehotdog1 · 2 years ago

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Sometimes I think about when TLoU3 finally comes out, first how utterly pathetic it will be when I’m heartbroken over fictional characters, but also how all my canon works will be changed by new information.

I have a lot of theories for part 3. I expect a 10 year time jump for part 3. Ellie may have found some peace and place in Jackson as a leader, something to fight for that isn’t sacrificing herself. JJ will also be old enough for some dangerous adventuring.

Like maybe the farmhouse scene is already after Ellie’s met with Fireflies or whatever the quest may be in part 3. She looks older in the Farmhouse final scene, maybe 25ish? Definitely more weathered 🥵

Also Dina is wearing an earring in her journal. How unusual since we didn’t see her wearing anything but the hamsa bracelet before. A make-up gift (like Tommy’s necklace)? Or a marriage bond?

And then maybe one of those prisoners Ellie let out survived and knows she was bitten. She did get pretty careless about bites, no masks…and remember the flash back where Joel warned her to be careful about people seeing that.

And Abby…it would be a bit predictable if she was also immune, but she was bit by Ellie in the same place (symbolic, not time of infection). I think about the line of Abby telling her dad she would want to be used for the cure if she was The Chosen One. It would be poetic in a way. Abby sacrificing herself 😪 instead of Ellie to fulfill her dad’s quest for a cure. And it would also piss tons of players off since they want Abby to die, but in a very specific way (sound familiar…Abby, Abby, Abby. These infected better not have killed you…because I want to be the one to do it!)

Just morning rambling. Might write a one shot about the earrings for marriage. But, I really need to finished the next chapter of Story 1 first. So, I will put that thought in my queue along with HVAC Ellie 😆

#it’s been 3 years and still everyday thoughts #the last of us part 2 #tlou3

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chaotic-on-main · 2 years ago

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sky my lovely!!! first off congratulations you absolute sweetie pie!! so deserved and I cant wait to watch you grow more <3

second!! im sliding a $5 across the ice cream truck counter very suavely to order a pralines and cream with hot fudge (my absolute favorite!!) I'm thinking awkward unspoken feelings friends to lovers type thing?? like how long can we ignore that we woke up in each others arms??? AGH okay I love you mwah mwah thank you

Order up!! One pralines and cream with hot fudge for Mars!

Sky's Summer and 250 Follower Event

☾ Pairings ➼ Megumi Fushiguro x gn!Reader

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff, expletives, one bed, friends to lovers (almost), modern au

☾ Author's Note ➼ Hi Mars!! Thank you so much for sending in a request! I may be a Levi girly, but I gotta admit I had a lot of fun writing this. I definitely did not start this at 2am and decided to stay up til 5am to finish it. I'm queueing this up though, worry not. Also I realized last minute you might have wanted more of the aftermath of waking up in each other's arms so if you would like a second part to this, please let me know?? I wouldn't mind, as I have something in mind that could work. But if I had continued, it would have easily been over 5k words and I need to work on other requests LMAO.

☾ Word Count ➼ ~2.2k

It would figure with your shitty track record, everything and their mother would do anything in their power to stop you from reaching your destination – your hometown. Due to traffic, multiple car wrecks, and now what felt like the heaviest thunderstorm known to man – you find yourself sitting behind the wheel 9 hours into what should have been a 7 hour drive. And according to the GPS display on the dash, you’re still a couple hours away from where you’re supposed to be.

Your knuckles turn white as you grip the steering wheel in distress. The rain comes down in sheets, making the wipers work overtime just to give you a few seconds glimpse at the road ahead. You sat in silence because you had turned the radio off a few miles back so you could focus. A cough to your right startles you and it takes everything within you to not swerve off the road.

“Shit! Megumi, what the fuck.” You hiss, pressing your hand to your chest in a means to calm your beating heart.

“I just coughed, calm down.” Your black haired companion mumbles, rolling his eyes at you. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Well excuse me for trying to keep us alive. If you couldn’t tell, there’s a lot of shit happening outside.” You scowl. In your high-strung concentration, you completely forgot about your best friend sitting in the passenger seat. He’s the whole reason why you’re even going back home in the first place.

One of his friends from high school is getting married back in the hometown where you all grew up. You knew of this friend by association, but that was it. You didn’t even know Megumi back then, even though you went to the same school as him. You had actually met him at the local community college before both getting opportunities in the same city post-graduation. Now that you think back on it, Megumi has been your roommate for as long as you remember.

Maybe that’s why you felt the need to help him when his car decided to take a shit, offering to drive him at the very last minute. You suppose you could have let him just borrow your car, but you were persistent to drive him yourself. You told yourself it was to make sure your car got there and back in one piece. Part of you tells yourself you’re a liar.

Megumi calls your name.

“What?” You squint your eyes, as if that would help you see what was out the blurry windshield.

“Let’s just pull off and get a motel somewhere. This storm is not letting up and it’s already so late. You need a break.”

“I promised to get you there. So I’m doing that.” You frown at the possibility of failing him.

“You’re not breaking that promise by pulling off for the night. We’ll just get up early tomorrow and head straight there.” Megumi insists.

“We’re only a cou-“

“Pull off on the next exit or I’m grabbing the steering wheel from you.” He cuts in wryly.

“Then we’d both be dead, is that what you want?” He doesn’t say anything to that. When you take a second to glance over, you’re met with a slight scowl.

“Ugh, FINE.” You get into the left lane and slow down, waiting for the next exit to come up.

Fortunately for you two, there are plenty of places to stay in the little area you pull off into. Unfortunately, every place you call has no vacancies due to this time of year except for a dinky little motel way down the road. It wasn’t your first choice, and you had even offered to drive down to the next exit to find something else. Megumi points out the next exit wasn’t for another 30 miles, so the dinky little motel it was.

“If I get murdered in my sleep, I want you to know it was all your fault.” You mutter to Megumi as you rip open the office door, dripping wet from just a few seconds of being out in the pouring rain.

“You can stay in the car then. It’ll save you money.” He mumbles back quietly.

“Pft, whatever.” You turn your focus to the clerk sitting at the front desk, currently blowing bubbles with chewing gum and scrolling through her smartphone. She doesn’t look up.

“Uh- excuse me?” You call out. She still doesn’t acknowledge you or your friend.

Megumi goes up to the counter and slaps a hand down onto the linoleum covered counter. The clerk jumps up, eyes wide in shock. It takes a moment for her to register there are two customers waiting for her.

“Can I help you?” She says, her tone drenched with boredom.

“Yeah, two rooms please.” Megumi says, holding up two fingers – his ring and pinky.

“Let me see.” The clerk says. She puts her phone down to click around the computer in front of her. She types a few things in, clicks around, then flickers her eyes above the screen to the two of you.

“We only have one room left.” Her monotonous voice was really starting to grate at you.

“Does it at least have two beds?” You ask, annoyance slipping into your voice.

You’re met with a shrug and a pop of bubble gum. You take a step forward, feeling the heat of your frustration simmering. Megumi holds his arm out across your chest and holds you back.

“We’ll take it, thanks.” With that, Megumi pays for it and is handed the keys in turn.

“Check out is 11am. Thanks for staying with us, or whatever.” The lady says, waving her hands dismissively before going back to her phone. If you weren’t so drained, you would have thrown yourself over the counter at her. Maybe it was due to being so drained that you were thinking of doing something so feral. Instead, you take a deep breath and follow Megumi out the door.

The rain still comes down in sheets as you and Megumi rush to grab the bags from the trunk and book it up to the second floor where the room you were staying in lies. Much to your ever growing irritation, the motel in question is one of those that have the open walkways, only the guardrail and overhang serving as protection. Not like it matters anyways, because the rain starts blowing at an angle and pelts you in the face as you struggle to make it to the room.

Your boiling pot of anger threatens to spill over when you stumble into the room behind Megumi to find that there weren't two beds – in fact there was only one. The smallest queen you had ever seen. In the grimiest looking motel room you have ever seen. Dropping your bag to the floor, you groan in frustration.

“That lady sucks.” You rub your face with both hands, pulling your cheeks down and staring over to Megumi. He’s grabbing some extra blankets and a pillow from the storage closet by the bathroom. “What are you doing, ‘Gumi?”

“Getting my spot on the floor ready.” He mutters without looking over to you. After tossing the bedspread onto the floor, he heads to the bathroom. You bound over to him quickly, only to have the door shut in your face.

“Like hell you will. Take the bed, I’ll get the floor.” You shout over the hardwood. He doesn’t respond. Instead of being a normal person who would just wait over the by the bed, you slam your fists into the door.

“You’ve been driving all day. You deserve the bed more than me.” You hear him say, muffled. You stare at the faded, thin carpet under your feet. It’s a dark burgundy, littered randomly with even darker spots. Perhaps it had been a bright red at one point?

“That floor looks like it hasn’t been cleaned since the 90s. Why don’t we just…” You trail off as Megumi opens the door, coming face to face with you. He wasn’t expecting you to be so close. You notice he had changed into dry pajamas, though you’re not sure how he did it so quickly. Nor did you see him bring clothes in with him. You must be really tired.

“Why don’t we just what?” A black eyebrow raises at you in curiosity.

“..Just share the bed.” You mumble under your breath. Turning on your heel, you head over to the side of the bed closest to the wall.

“Do what?” Megumi follows you, frowning slightly. He hadn’t heard you.

“Share the bed.” You say louder, not looking his way. In all the years you both had been roommates, sharing a bed was something that had never come up. It wasn’t needed, for obvious reasons.

“I mean, if that’s okay with you.” He replies back coolly. Your eyes snap up to his, and notice he’s watching you anxiously despite his tone.

“We don’t have to. It was just a suggestion.” You raise your hands up in defense, puffing your cheeks out.

“No, I think it’s the smartest choice we have.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Postive?”

“Just go change into dry clothes, dummy.” He rolls his eyes and walks past to his side of the bed. You trill your lips as you push yourself off the bed and into the bathroom after grabbing a pair of pajamas out of your small bag.

You find yourself on your side facing the wall about 10 minutes later. Megumi is tucked under the covers behind you, facing the window you suspect. It’s quiet bar for the ticking of the analog clock on the wall above the tv by the front door. Before getting into bed, he had made sure to lock every lock available to him.

‘Triple reassurance.’ He had said.

You roll onto your back and stare up at the ceiling. That thought from earlier today about why you were so insistent on driving him surfaces to the top of your mind. You turn your head to where Megumi currently lies, his back to you confirming your assumption from before. His black hair pools around his pillow. You think you’re the only person who has ever seen his hair down from his normal spiky style.

“’Gumi?” You whisper over to him. You’re met with silence, which means he must have fallen asleep. Exhausted from the drive today, sleep comes to you just as easily. Your last thought before falling into pitch black nothingness is Megumi's stupidly cute smile.

When you wake, you don’t open your eyes right away. You can already tell the sun must be up by the way your eyelids tint pink. Your eyes flutter open and you blink hard a few times to reorient yourself. An ugly navy striped wallpaper glares back at you. Where were you?

You take a second to think. That’s right, you and Megumi had stopped at a motel last night to shelter from the storm for the evening. A small gust of air blows down your neck and it takes everything in you to not jump up and out of bed. Something cinches over your waist and pulls you close and your eyes widen. Wait, Megumi.

Carefully, you slide your hand down to what was around your waist and a breath hitches in your throat. It’s an arm, and not just any arm. It belongs to Megumi – solely based off the fact he was the only one in the bed with you.

By the depth of his breaths, you can tell he’s still sleeping. Good, you think to yourself. Maybe you can move his arm off you gently and not wake him. However, when you go to wrap your fingers around his wrist, he digs his face into your hair and sighs softly. He’s pulling you in closer too, and this is where you’re drawing the line.

“U-uh Megumi.” You say. Your voice is crackly with the lack of moisture.

His breathing steadies out, and suddenly you feel him stiffen up behind you. Slowly, he pulls away and the sadness that comes with the absence of his body heat hits faster than you would have cared to admit.

“S-Sorry.” He mutters behind you, his own voice thick with sleep.

“No, it’s okay.” You squeak out. Pulling yourself out of the covers, you grab your bag and practically run to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you with a soft click.

You don’t come out for another 30 minutes, deciding to take a quick shower to calm yourself down. A few mental arguments later, you feel you can face him. This needed to be talked about. You wanted to talk about it. You take a deep breath and throw the bathroom door open. When you walk out, however, you see Megumi dressed and ready to go by the door, his bag in hand.

“There you are. Ready to head out? If we leave now, we can make it for the rehearsal lunch.” He looks up from his phone that he must have been scrolling on while waiting.

“I-yeah. Megumi, listen-“ You stop with your mouth open, ready to say what you had rehearsed in the steamed up bathroom mirror. But nothing comes out. Instead, you pinch your lips together and give him a nod. “Yeah. Let’s go."

TBH I don't know of any other JJK moots. So if you see this and wanna be tagged in my next JJK fics, please comment to let me know?? Thank you! (I will tag @romantichomicide95 tho because I know she's a Megumi girly)

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi #megumi x reader #megumi x gn!reader #megumi fushiguro x gn!reader #modern au #fluff #one bed #sky's summer event #ice cream order: pralines and cream with hot fudge

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