#There might be a little less updates from now on
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Man I wonder where the leader of the fear realm could've gone, it's alMOST LIKE NEVIN HAS AN
#had to re-edit the image real quick because the original edit was from a post I made about Drew years ago#and while the Drew thing is becoming less and less likely. Nevin havinv one has basically been canon since#someone mentioned Greg's (was it Britney's) aura being familiar in s2ch1. ive been putting together a list of every line#that points to Nevin's aura throughout the whole thing (most from s2ch1 but then s2ch10 came out and it was really canon at that point)#but clearly i'm running out of time to say ''i fucking called it'' before it's explicitly stated and i dont want to be in another situation#where somebody else will beat me to a theory and me posting anything about it will seem like copying them. sorry about that btw i had#thought i had already mentioned theorizing that nevin was possessed by a demon in that old theory i made but i had forgotten that one was#super old and was about sigma. so no copying there i just got extremely paranoid there was a mention of a cult and i was like ''nuh uh#that's way too specific and out there of a detail to end up in both our theories'' and i forgot the rest of my super old post was outdated#as hell. and echos had gone ''yeah they're so similar!'' and i took their word for it but now i'm realizing they were probably just trying#to be supportive. so yeah no copying there i was just beaten to the punch of saying something. but i will NOT back down from the aura shit#because i have been calling that shit FROM THE START or at least since i started reading ibvs back when ch20 came out.#also not backing down from saying chris was the worse friend because these past few chapters are the first time isaac has done anything tha#could knowingly upset chris meanwhile chris has. let edward drag isaac to the lair after isaac said edward would beat him up. chose not to#believe edward was holding the secrets over their heads because 'it was something isaac had said' and then immediately distrusted edward in#the next chapter because a random person he didn't know said to steal a book (might i mention how that entire scene proves chris' lack of#development and refusal to take responsibility because it perfectly alludes to when chris had brought those fireworks into his old school#and makes me wonder if charlie has actually gotten him in trouble with his past schools or if he's still just not taking responsibility#and if him following nevin to the woods to test out their powers is an extension of ''if something bad happens its not my fault''#like seriously this man would bring a mysterious suitcase onto a plane if he's told to). uh what was i talking about agai#anyway on a related note my mental state has only gotten worse since i left tumblr and the habit of thinking about chris instead of sleepin#or doing schoolwork has not stopped. so i was still failing for a while and might graduate now but am still staying away from tumblr.#so yeah this was a little update and im not going to linger this time im just going to leave tumblr again right after hitting post#addendum because i just can't let things go. and was thinking about chris again. i don't think his lack of development is because of bad#writing (anymore. i used to.). instead i'm certain his character arc is going to continue into him following someone (nevin probably) into#doing something really bad. and then he'll finally get actual consequences and go 'oh shit i fucked up real bad this time'#if you think that theory is reaching too far into the future you should hear mine about isaac dying at the end lmao
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Zaptor from Elestrals!
#elestrals#pixel art#Hey gang another secret tag update#I am in talks with the guy who makes this and he's commissioning me to make every elestral :')#this is my first animation commission/job that will stop me from having to worry about commissions for like... months#maybe even a full year. who knows. But the point is I will finally be a big shot#My home and love life are comfortable as can be but I have been worried about money a little recently as commissions are sporadic#But... I'm actually on track to move to full time animation. I'm so excited.#Game is still under construction. Story is done and I'm still coding. Might need a new computer soon because this one is nearly a decade old#I'm so hopeful that the universe has finally thrown me a proverbial bone at least career wise#I have a small fanbase who is really really nice to me and I met a lot of friends there and I need to remember them when this all kicks off#Misty Ripley Heck are three that have been super supportive and I will help give back to them for keeping me afloat this whole time#Ashley has also been subscribed to me for a year. It's our year anniversary soon and I'm so nervous bc I'm not certain what to get her/do#Will just be grateful to have more memories w her. Might get a little trip away somewhere if she can get someone to watch pets#just checked. Nothing standing out but I'll figure it out now that money is significantly less of a worry#I guess that's nearly every one of my worries gone. Just gotta actually grind and finish game and I'll have nearly nothing to complain about
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Danny always knew tax evasion ran in his veins. His parents hadn’t been the most… morally sound of people, and less so as ecto-scientists.
He just didn’t think their lessons would ever result in a criminal empire that spanned the entire city and then some. Danny hadn’t seen it coming. His parents definitely wouldn’t have.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne. Mr. Fox.”
Danny ‘the Phantom’ Fenton sat down across from a rather tense looking (to Danny’s enhanced senses, anyways) Brucie Wayne and his right hand, Lucius Fox. He smiled pleasantly, matching Brucie’s vacant smile with that touch of Midwest suburban mother smile.
With his acquisition of multiple Gotham companies, his rather newly established Fentom Co. became one of the largest holding companies in Gotham, the first being Wayne Enterprises and the second being Drake Industries. After months of constantly working his butt off while fending off assassins, reforming Gotham’s slums and cleaning up some of the streets, and taking care of his nest of street kids, Danny garnered enough power to even stand close to Wayne Enterprises in terms of financial powers.
The topic of this meeting was, of course, the proposed merger of Wayne Enterprises’ Medical R&D division with Fentom Co.’s pharmaceutical department. Usually, Wayne Enterprises wouldn’t even consider such an offer, as their Medical R&D division was the most well funded and least likely to be part of a Rogue’s scheme- and therefore most beloved- department of the same nature in Gotham. However, Danny had something the other offers didn’t.
Blackmail.
His overly polite smile widened as Bruce’s mask twitched. His eyes slid over to Lucius Fox.
“It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I’ve heard much about your genius in… research and development.”
By that, Danny meant that he knew Lucius Fox helped develop Batman’s tech.
He did a lot of stalking that week. It felt rather… invasive, even if he did get a bunch of juicy secrets.
You know what they say: dead men tell no tales… but halfas are generally blabbermouths.
“Is that so? It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Fenton.” The man quickly glanced between the youngsters, accurately predicting that this might have something to do with Bruce’s active nightlife.
“Yes, it is such a pleasure to meet you.”
Wow, Danny didn’t think he’d ever heard anyone sound both so perky and dead inside at the same time, except for Susan at Gotham High’s bake sale.
Bruce wishes he could be a Susan. He’s at best a Becky.
“Will you be staying, Mr. Fox? You’re the head of the R&D department, correct?”
“Ah, yes-”
“Oh, Lucius! I think you had an appointment with the finance department right now! I heard Sally talk about it, you know!”
Lucius Fox sent an unreadable look at Bruce before rallying.
“Oh, it must have slipped my mind. My apologies, Mr. Fenton, it seems as though I can not skip this appointment.”
“That’s alright. I suppose it gives you… plausible deniability… should things go wrong, haha!” Danny allowed his smile to widen a little further than natural. Bruce tensed but Lucius Fox simply politely smiled and left the room.
Ignorance is bliss and all that, Danny amusedly thought.
As the door shut with a click, Bruce dropped the vacant Brucie smile and sighed.
“What do you want,” he gritted out. Danny wasn’t about to let that slide, not after he spent the better part of this month wrangling Bruce’s problem children.
“Ah, it must be because I’m from the Midwest, Brucie, but where I come from, we value these things called manners.”
You uneducated jerk, he doesn’t say.
Danny leaned back in his chair, loosening his smile into something relaxed and sharp.
“…” Oh, boy, Danny could just hear the other man’s blood pressure rising. “What is the purpose of your visit, Mr. Fenton?”
“Relax, Brucie,” Danny sing-songed in a non-relaxing way. “I’m just here to discuss a possible merger that I’m sure you’ll agree to, and give you a couple of updates on your… wayward bird.”
He heard Bruce take a slow, controlled breath. “Very well. Where. Would. You. Like. To. Start.”
Danny ignored the gritted out sentence. He passed a contract to Bruce, who took it like he was handling a live bomb.
“Here’s the proposal, Mr. Wayne. Please, look it over.”
He watched as Bruce looked over the contract with an eagle eye before lowering it, scrutinizing Danny.
“This is… very fair.”
Danny raised an eyebrow. Of course it was fair. Danny wasn’t interested in exploiting the Waynes, despite them being very able to afford it.
He’d brought fifty manufacturing sites for pharmaceuticals, and offered up a building where both companies could send their workers. He provided top notch security- that definitely didn’t have any talons on staff, what were they talking about?- that came from his own security division. Granted, most of them were reformed and trained goons, but hey, creating jobs can only help Gotham’s economy and help break the cycle of poverty, right? Guaranteed by the Wayne name and, most importantly, uncompromised medicine that was accessible to everyone would be a damn good start. He’d also have Penguin’s empire to distribute it to those who couldn’t make it to a clinic or a store, and there were plans in there to work with and establish contracts with Gotham’s welfare department. Well… once Danny finished replacing them with people who wouldn’t try to take a cut of the funds and actually cared about the people. He was thinking… the multitudes of poor grad students and parents that need income. He’s in the process of building childcare centers and…
It’s a good thing he managed to save money from the taxes (thank you, Gotham’s morally ambiguous tax experts that were in desperate need for clients! He could do it himself but having a team of accountants at the ready was seriously so helpful.) because ancients knows the government weren’t about to step into Gotham and help the people here. He needs so much money to pull all of this shit off and a lot of it has to be clean.
Danny inwardly sighed and marked another thing onto his to do list.
Make money laundering fronts.

“Of course, Mr. Wayne. You didn’t think I’d come in here demanding money, did you?”
“I considered it.”
“I am, in fact, trying to help Gotham. You might not agree with my methods, but I’d rather not damage Wayne Enterprises when it’s doing so much to help the people.”
Ugh, he was doing too much work. Danny just wanted to- hah- chill at home and read bed time stories to his kids.
Bruce Wayne, the specific blend between Brucie and Batman, regarded him silently. Danny felt like he went up a few notches in the respect ladder.
Nice.
“You’re a criminal.”
“Says the man in the bat-suit breaking into places and assaulting people.”
Bruce’s hands spasmed around the contract. Danny smiled at him, taking a sip of the coffee they’d prepared. Oo, nice!
“Ah, I heard you’re adopting- pardon, fostering- Tim Drake. Getting empty nest syndrome, Brucie?” He slipped back into using Bruce’s first name. The proposal was formal. This… was very much not.
“What about it?”
“That’s very kind of you. Speaking of which, well, of your birds, I was wondering if you remembered what I asked you to do.” Danny continued, not giving Bruce a chance to reply. “Didn’t I ask for you to keep your birds in line, Brucie?”
The CEO straightened even further, form filling out to be Batman’s imposing figure. “I did.”
“No, you didn’t. Do you know where your charge is, right now? No, not the formerly dead one,” Danny tilted his head, smile shrinking.
“Don’t you dare do anything to Tim. I swear, if you even lay a hand on a strand of his hair, I’ll-”
“Sit your Armani clad ass down, Bruce.” Danny snapped. “Your son’s in your office. I don’t harm children, and your assumptions are deeply insulting. Threaten me again, Bruce, and I’ll make sure you know exactly how much I know about your birds, your cousin, and the commissioner’s daughter.”
Bruce snarled but leashed his anger just enough to sit back down. He itched to go check on Tim, but leaving a threat like Phantom unwatched felt inherently wrong.
“Your other son,” Danny continued. “Is doing quite well. He’s learning that he has hobbies again. He’s actually working under me, you know.”
“He’s what.”
Oh, yeah, that tracks. It figured that Jason wouldn’t tell Bruce about anything. He’s still conflicted about his death. Danny got it.
“Ah, that’s precious information. You’ll have to offer something of equal value if you want to know. There is, on the other hand, a piece of information I’ll give you for free.”
Danny paused for the dramatic effect. It was lost on Bruce, the ultimate drama queen of this world.
“The League of Assassins are hanging around Hotham lately. It’s getting tedious, getting rid of them. I suggest talking to your old flame, you know, with words and what little communication skill you’ve got rattling around in your noggin to get them to pull back. Her interest is… unnaturally focused on Jason.”
Danny read the dark agreement swimming about Bruce’s face and inclined his head. “Should negotiations fail, rest assured that Jason will be protected.”
“…Thank you.”
“You are most welcome. Go ahead and discuss the contract with Mr. Fox, I am sure you’ll find little problems with it. Ah,” Danny stood up, fixing his suit jacket. “And you should probably check up on Timothy. He’s probably having a great time in your office, Mr. Wayne.”
“I’ll see you out.”
“Of course.”
Having Batman escorting him out should probably be more intimidating.
Danny stood in the elevator, waiting for Bruce’s contemplative silence to put itself into words.
Sure enough, “What… what kind of hobbies does Jason have now?”
“I’d tell you to ask him, but you two aren’t on speaking terms, are you? He likes books, of course, but recently, he’s found an interest in glass blowing. He made quite a bit of progress on his attempts at sun catchers.”
“I see.”
Well, Danny’s not about to step on that landmine any more than he has to.
——
“Danny.”
“Oh, hey, Jason. Sit down, we were about to have dinner.”
Jason clambered into the window. Danny sighed. He had a door, but by the way Jason never used it, it was like the door didn’t exist.
“Mind telling me why the old bastard showed up on my rooftops with a bunch of glass and glassblowing tools?”
Danny smiled. “No idea.”
“Uh huh.”
Danny placed a hand on his chest and put on his best woe-is-me expression. The teen’s face twitched in annoyance. “Doubt? At me? Why, I never!”
A bread roll thwacked him in the face.
#dpxdc#danny phantom#batman#bruce wayne#jason todd#tim drake#dc x dp#red hood#bamf danny phantom#crime lord Danny#accidental crime lord Danny
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God help me I may have another crush on a straight boy
#resisting the urge to shout abt it to my friend so you all get to see this instead <3#listen.. listen he’s a rlly good skater and he’s really sweet#I don’t know whether or not he’s queer. it’s for sure a possibility but I don’t have anything solid#(he has long hair and wore a cavetown jumper a bunch last winter)#(he also has a bunch of queer friends)#oh god wait we did the pride thing that one time did he do smth for that wait#THERE ARE PHOTOS OF THAT NIGHT#listen he’s just rlly cute okay he’s pretty and he’s super enthusiastic and friendly and has a super distinctive way of speaking#just like. disarmingly earnest#and I did not let myself entertain this last year even though I thought he was cute bc fresher#which was a good reason to start with when I found out but less so as the year went on I just didn’t update it (I was a second year)#there is also the little matter of HE MIGHT BE STRAIGHT.#man.#I’m doing freshers fair with him and I’m gonna see him pretty regularly this is fine#I will be able to figure it out and then figure out what I do abt it#and I will refrain from screaming at my friend FOR NOW. bc last time she turned it into a thing#and I am Not repeating that with another straight boy#I will ignore this at some point probably but it’s fine#I’m too gay for this#I’m. so gay.#luke.txt
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𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 | dbf!Joel Miller x reader
↝ other fics | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi
summary | you're stranded, you need help—of course, Joel Miller is your savior.
content warning | listen. i wrote this in 3 hours, idk what to say. i had a thot and it went from there. its completely p w/o p, dbf!joel, age gap, moodboard is for aesthetic and reader is mostly not described aside from hair long enough to be put up, unhinged popsicle eating, eye-fucking, public-ish unprotected p in v car sex. listen i'm on my period rn don't look at me and thank you for my love, my twin, @chaotic-mystery for constantly supporting my gremlin behavior
word count — 3.2k
Out of all the people you had the chance of running into—of course it was Joel.
The chances were slim, but not impossible. You knew his work schedule well enough, similar to that of your fathers. He worked early mornings into the late evening, taking his commute home just as the sun was starting to set.
You gripped the gas can in one hand as you made your way down the side road, the other hand placed over your eyes like a visor to block the sun away. You didn’t even have a cell signal out here, so the walk seemed fruitless.
But, you had to find a gas station.
You thought you could make it home, which was clearly poor judgment, and the hair falling from the haphazardly tied knot on top of your head was sticking to your neck, eyes squinting as the truck pulled up next to you.
“Now, darlin’—the hell are you doin’ out here in the middle of nowhere?” Joel asks, the blast of AC hitting you in the face as he rolls down the window, arm leaned over the console as he looked you over.
It was clear you’ve been out here longer than you should and Joel doesn’t even take a second to hesitate before he’s popping the handle on the passenger door and inviting you inside the cooler cabin of his truck.
“Where are you comin’ from?” He asks, shifting the truck into drive before he rests his palm over the gear shift.
“A friend, I thought I had enough gas to make it home but,” You shrug, waving vaguely at your car parked on the side of the road as he drives by.
What took a fifteen minute walk to where Joel had picked you up was only a minute or so drive back. Joel looks at you wearily and turns up the AC, blasting the stray hairs away from your face but the immediate burst of cold feels like absolute heaven.
“Grab a water out of my cooler, sweetheart,” He gestures with a thumb over his shoulder and you scramble, leaning over the center console with your ass popped up in the air.
Joel assumed it had to have been a pool party, the skirt covering your bottom half doing nothing to hide the thin, strappy bikini bottoms you wore underneath.
Joel doesn’t mean to stare, but he’s worried that you might hurt yourself, his hand reaching out to wrap around your calf in an effort to keep you steady.
A subtle smirk plays at the corner of your mouth as you reach for the water inside the cooler and pop your head back up, your ass grazing his hand on the way down as you twist back into your seat.
Little touches were never a big thing with you two, normal and constant and nothing unusual.
A hand on your shoulder at family cookouts, his hands engulfing yours as he popped open the cap on your beer, a squeeze of his hand at the back of your neck when he hugged you after a month or two of not seeing you around your father’s house due to college or work, whatever was keeping you so busy. He didn’t try to pry, but you’ve been around less and less with each passing summer—so this unsuspecting time with you, he didn’t mind. It was nice.
Really nice.
You twist at the cap and take a drink of the water, so thirsty that it starts to drip out of your mouth, a small droplet down your chin, reaching your chest and down the center of your breasts.
“It ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Joel jokes, squinting his eyes as he hides the growing grin on his face with his usual frown.
“Sorry, being out in that heat like that…” You take a breath, recalling the bottle and putting it in the drink holder, “I just feel so stupid for thinking I could make it.“
When the street lights come into view, you know you're closer to actual civilization. And, just as Joel takes a right on the next intersection you stop at, there it was.
“It happens,” Joel comforts, “but you were lucky I was drivin’ home—can’t even think about what could have happened if I didn’t pass by.”
Joel pulls into the gas station and turns off the ignition.
“Well,” You flash a bright smile, squeezing at his shoulder—he’s got on a dark shirt plastered with the logo of the construction company he worked for, faded and slightly damp from his own sweat, “you did and I’m thankful for it, Joel.”
“Hand it over,” Joel motions toward the gas can, “I’ll fill ‘er up for you.”
“Joel, you don’t have to—“
Joel tilts his head toward the gas can at your feet, eyebrows raised and hand held out expectantly.
“Just hand it over.”
You sigh softly and relent, reaching between your legs to grab the plastic jug, knowing of the eyes that drag down your spine from the open back of your top, tied just as your neck and the side of your breasts spilling out of your swim top.
Joel knows a snag, just a simple hook of his fingers would send them spilling out into the cool air, nipples perked up under the mesh fabric of your top and—
“Joel.”
Joel’s eyes pull up suddenly, his face flushed but he’s lucked out by the redness of hot, summer heat on his face.. He clears his throat and grabs the gas can.
“Be right back,” He tells you, “stay put, alright?”
“And where would I go?” You retort playful, “I’m sure you’d find me again anyways.”
Joel chuckles to himself with a shake of his head as he departs into the store, handing a ten to the clerk before he takes a quick glance back at you, fanning yourself with your hand and chugging down another swig of water.
“Actually,” Joel pauses for a moment, holding a finger up as he lingers down the aisle toward the freezer and grabs out two popsicles, hoping that would quell some of the heat, even if for a moment—plus, he knew you had quite the sweet tooth, “there, just put whatever’s left on the pump and I’ll use that to fill it up.”
The clerk nods and scans the items, handing Joel off the receipt and he’s half jogging back toward his truck—quick to toss you the keys and the two popsicle’s he’d bought.
“What is this?” You ask cheerfully, eyes lighting up as they plopped into your lap.
Joel kept the driver's side open as he filled up the gas can, watching as you peeled eagerly at the popsicle, the red dye immediately dripping down your fingers as you pulled away the plastic.
“Just throw it on the floorboard—I’ll clean it up later,” Joel notes as you look around, placing the lid back on the gas can before climbing back into the truck, “you mind openin’ mine?”
You place the cherry flavored popsicle between your lips with an eagerness that forces Joel to look away, the sound of you peeling away plastic in his ear as he pulls out of the gas station and makes his way back toward your car.
“Thank you, baby,” He says casually—not all that odd either, he’s got a million nicknames for you, some trickier to let slip around others but there was an unspoken agreement. You never minded, never cared.
He was only ever Joel to you and he didn’t mind that either.
“Of course,” You smile, before dragging your tongue along the bottom of the popsicle and back up, sinking it back between your lips.
Joel just bites at it, not one to savor things very often.
You giggle and roll your eyes, the popsicle tip just as the edge of your lips before Joel is looking over at you curiously, ignoring the red stain of popsicle on your tongue as it peeks out.
“What?”
“Just—you’re not even trying to enjoy it, Joel.”
“It’s meant to be eaten, right?”
“It’s hot—it’s a cold treat, you’re supposed to make it last a little. Come on,” You hold the popsicle out for demonstration before licking up the side, sinking your lips back down in a show that was more for yourself, knowing how he constantly looked at you—if Joel chokes on the bite of flavored ice in his mouth you don’t see it.
It wasn’t a secret, how he looked at you. It’s been a few years since you left for college and teetering that line, nearing your mid-twenties now it seemed like it had only gotten more and more obvious. Joel’s never made his own advances aside from the one time your drunken state made you a little too confident, sliding between his legs at one of your family parties late at night, pressing a kiss right against his lips that ended far too quickly.
He did kiss you back though, you do remember that.
“Alright, alright,” Joel waves his hand at you nonchalantly, “you can cut that out.”
You raise an eyebrow, feeling the sticky sweet juice slip down your fingers as the popsicle starts to melt, nearly finished as Joel had already downed his own.
“I’m just eating the popsicle,” You brush him off, “that you bought me—“
“You know what I’m talkin’ about, sweetheart.”
You do, but that half second of lingering pause makes Joel worry he has read the situation completely wrong.
“What? Do you not like it?” You tease him, “Doesn’t it turn you on, Joel?”
You finish up the last bit before tucking the stick into the plastic and back on the ground, suddenly realizing the red dye had stained the front of your top, causing a frown to form on your face as you rubbed at the material.
“Shit,” You curse, ignoring the heated look on Joel’s face at your words, practically oblivious with the sudden distraction. You pull at the tie on the back of your top and bunch up the fabric as you stuff it between your lap, meeting Joel’s half-dumbstruck look as he tries to keep his eyes on the road but also can’t draw his eyes away from you, “what—I got it all over my shirt?”
Joel pulls to the side of the road in an instant, forcing the truck into park, “What are you playin’ at?”
You look at him with confusion, narrowing your eyes.
“What? Why did you pull over?”
“What are the chances of me findin’ you out here? On this road?” He raises his eyebrows expectantly, “Hm?”
You feign innocence for a few seconds before you cave, smiling with a devilish glint, resting your chin in your hand as you lean against the center console, your bikini top doing nothing to cover the plump of your breasts as the press against the fabric.
“Well, I mean—I figured they were pretty likely but—“
“Is your car even out of gas?”
You chew at your bottom lip thoughtfully, eyes tilting upwards in thought—truth…lie.
Joel seemed set on getting the truth. So, you give it to him.
“No, but I had you going, didn’t I?”
Joel is silent for too long and you raise your eyebrows in question before Joel reaches forward, tugging at the lever under his seat to send him scooting back.
“Come here,” It’s simple. An instruction.
But the look on his face—the intimidation shakes you to your core.
“Now, don’t back off,” Joel challenges, “it’s what you wanted, right?”
“As if you don’t want it either,” You counter, “you’ve been eye-fucking me since I got in your truck.”
Joel doesn’t even deny it, only waits. A simple nod of his head in a gesture for you to climb over and into his lap.
So, you do.
His hands immediately find your thighs and push up the denim skirt, your own hands resting at your sides as you scoot until your cunt is pressed up against the hard line of his zipper, the denim of his jeans so sensitive against your bare skin, feeling like all your senses were dialed up.
“We do this,” Joel starts, “there’s no going back. So, I need you to think if you really want this or—“
You surge forward, forcing the back of his head into the headrest as you swallow his words in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, tongues clashing with the taste of sugary sweetness.
“Gotta be quick,” Joel tells you, his words lost on deaf ears as your hands drag down his front, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne, the ironic freshness despite having worked in the heat all day, “can I fuck you, baby? S’that too much to ask?”
You shake your head, peppering soft kisses against his lips, along his jaw, feeling his fingers reach for each tie at your hips and pull, his hand immediately sliding over your cunt, cupping you with the warmth of his palm.
“Get it out, baby—got my hands a little busy right now.”
The heat in his words makes your pussy clench, but your hands move even faster, dragging over the front of his jeans and pulling at the zipper swiftly and Joel lifts his hips enough to get them down his thighs but that was it, hissing at the instant your hand closes around his cock.
“You got a problem with me fuckin’ you like this?” Joel asks, a true gentleman, but you roll your eyes. “Don’t even know why I asked—you’ve been beggin’ for it.”
You tilt your head, smiling at him playfully before you lick at your fingers and taste the remaining sticky sugar before pressing them along the center of your cunt, mixed with the already growing slick—Joel nudges at your entrance as you watch, the tip of his cock notched against your hole and your pussy quivers with the anticipation as he drags his cock up, down, up, before sliding in all at once.
It’s slow, but intense. Your eyes close, brow drawing together as he pulls you further and further down his cock.
“Open,” He breathes out, “open your eyes and look at how you’re takin’ me, baby.”
You blink quickly, grabbing onto his bicep for purchase as you look down, his hands squeezing at the tops of your thighs as he admired, watching the way his cock has you on the edge of near tears—a mix of overwhelming emotion and intense sensation.
Joel pulls at your top gently and it falls without much struggle, he bunches the material up and tosses it aside with your bottoms, massaging the swell of your tits under his palms as you rock your hips slowly, hearing the soft grunt behind his closed lips as you lean into his touch.
Flicking his thumb over your nipples, he admires the way the nubs hardered, like he’d imagine earlier—he tries not to dwell on how you both got here, like it wasn’t years of built up tension finally crumbling underneath you both.
“Don’t be shy,” He tells you, “take whatever you need, baby.”
As does he, leaning forward to press his lips against your breast, tongue lapping over the pert nipple before he sucks it into his mouth, drawing a soft sigh out of you.
You lift your hips, in time with the hand of his own that drops to your side to quicken your pace, “Wanna take my time with you but we can’t,” Joel admits, “gotta get home.”
You nod, knowing he had his own responsibilities as a father—you don’t argue, placing your hands against the headrest and raising your hips nearly off of his cock before sinking back down quickly, keeping that pace for as long as your body will allow, shared breaths into each others mouth as he hands travel from your tits to your face, the largeness of his palms engulfing your face as he brings his lips to your mouth again, again, soft whispers of words you know he doesn’t mean. Promises you know are fleeting and easy to break.
You couldn’t be with him, but you would take whatever this is.
“Just like that, baby,” He murmurs, grunting harshly into your ear as you tuck your head into his neck, his hand buried into the hair at the back of your head as you sink down onto his cock desperately, crying out into the side of his throat as he snaps his hips roughly, hitting so deep inside of you it makes you clench, biting down gently on his skin, “I feel it, I felt it.”
You snake your hand between your legs, finding your clit quickly and rubbing over the swollen nub, and Joel can tell by the neediness in your tone, moans broken into his skin as he fucks into you, haphazardly scanning the road for any passing cars—but he knew this place was always deserted, a shitty road that no one ever took.
Not even you, but today—it wasn’t a coincidence.
“That’s right, baby,” Joel sighs, head thrown back as he groaned out, “gon’ let me use this pussy, yeah?”
You nod instinctively, willing to agree with whatever Joel asked.
“Wanna fill her up,” Joel admits, forcing you to lift your head and look at him, head tilted down slightly to meet your eyes, “that alright, darlin’?”
You nod again, but coherent this time.
He loosens the reins completely by then, practically hauling you over his shoulder as he pounds into you, encourage the hand on your clit as he squeezes a handful of your ass under his palm, marking the skin with a few firm slaps that has you moaning out loudly into the sacred space of the truck.
“Joel, please—“ You gasp, “I’m gonna—right there,”
“I know, baby. I know.” He says softly, but the strain in his voice is obvious, groaning through clenched teeth as your orgasm crests, warmth spreading as you gush over his cock, the momentary bliss of sensation making your forget where you were, suddenly wishing that this had been a little less impulsive, wondering how Joel would treat you within the walls of his bedroom, buried in the sheets of his bed.
When Joel comes, it’s intense. His hands squeezing at your waist hard, his hips jerking out of rhythm as he stills you, coming inside of you with a deep groan, pulling you in for a frenzied kiss, laughing at how your faces uncoordinatedly press together, your nose smushed against his own and he kisses at the tip of your own as you pull away, his hair messier than when you started from your insistent grabbing and pulling during the heat of your orgasm.
He looked a complete mess, actually.
“You okay?” He asks after a long pause, his hand rubbing at your back, cock still buried inside you on the side of an empty road.
“Mhm,” You nod drearily.
“Baby, you gotta drive home now.” He tells you and you know—it doesn’t make it any easier, though. “Don’t pull this shit again, alright?”
If he’d see it any other way you would have flinched, but it was soft and comforting—not a warning.
“You need somethin’, you come knockin’ on my door.”
And you know he means it.
“Okay, I will.”
“Swear,” That was an order, “I need to hear it.”
“I swear.” You reply quietly.
Joel doesn’t push you away, though.
If anything, he savors the few moments he has in this dreamy afterglow, a taste of what could be—but you both know never will.
divider creds: @/cafekitsune
#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x f!reader#the last of us#tlou#tlou fanfic#the last of us fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#my writing#dbf!joel
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updated: 21.12.24
ᯓ★ mob!au
Run For Your Life (❤✘): he was away from the city for a while, chasing after some bastards who betrayed him. But the traitors were no longer breathing now and Bucky Barnes was finally able to come home to the city he ruled. Mostly, he was excited to come back and see his girl again. However when he got to the strip club where you worked as a waitress, he didn’t find you there. They told him you didn’t work there anymore. No one knew where you went, or why you left. Nobody even knew your real name. Now it was up to him to search the whole wide world to find a nameless girl – one he was obsessively, mindlessly in love with. (@sinner-as-saint) (warning: stalking tendencies)
Passionfruit (❤✘): you spend a well deserved lazy day with your mafia husband and son… plus Bucky getting a little handsy. (@kurogxrix)
Look Don't Touch (❤): you accidentally walk onto your husband and his men during a meeting, clad in nothing else but a tight-fitting top and a baby in your arms. The sight is enough to send the many men drooling, but Bucky reminds them that you’re only his to look at, and will always be. (@kurogxrix)
The Alchemy (❤❅✘): about a decade ago you left your home and ran away, looking for a fresh start after having had your heart broken by the boy you loved. Now you’re back and turns out Bucky Barnes – the same man who once broke your heart – is adamant on tormenting you some more. But why? Why does he want you back at all cost when he was the one who once pushed you away and crushed your heart like it meant nothing to him? What secrets has he been keeping for almost a decade? Most importantly, what truly happened that night he broke your heart? (@sinner-as-saint) (warning: forced marriage/marriage of convenience, possessive behaviours)
4 Minutes (✘): you and Bucky had limited time to spend intimately during the past few days, leaving you both extremely sexually frustrated. When your son’s occupation offers you 4 minutes of free time, Bucky’s damn adamant on making your legs shake in less than 3. (@kurogxrix)
Protector (❤✧): ironically, the man with blood on his hands and a permanent target on his back was the one you’d never felt safer with. (@cherryrogers) (warning: mild violence, assault, stalking, mentions of illness, death)
Honey, There Is No Right Way (❤❅✘): when you agree to be the feared mobster Bucky Barnes’ sugar baby, you expect to get enough money to pay your bills. what you don’t expect is to fall head over heels for him. (@bonky-n-steeb)
A Love For The (P)ages (❤): Bucky might be the baddest mob boss in the city but he’s the softest and sweetest husband in the Universe. (@jobean12-blog)
Stealing Hearts (❤❅✘): his mansion was highly secured, and yet, breaking in and trying to steal from him was rather easy for a skilled thief like yourself. Key word: trying. Of course you got caught by his men. And the mob boss was known to be ruthless, cold, merciless – the list of his villainy was endless – so you thought he’d end you the moment he laid eyes on a thief like you. However, he didn’t. Instead, he made you an unusual offer. One you couldn’t resist. (@sinner-as-saint)
Come Home (❤✘): Bucky comes home to find you and your son asleep in your bed and his heart damn near explodes with how much he loves his family. And after putting your baby to sleep, Bucky proceeds to show you just how grateful he is to have you and how much he loves you… (@sinner-as-saint)
I Am Your Fall (❤❅✘): you’re hiding from your past, in Madripoor. You did nothing wrong, other than mix dangerous business with a lot of pleasure. You couldn’t go home because… he would find you, and Madripoor was the only place he didn’t do business, or had any allies or friends. But little did you know that the mob boss had finally found you, after obsessively looking for you ever since you left, and left him in pieces. He didn’t want revenge, he just wanted the one thing he had hopelessly fallen in love with; who also happened to be the one who had betrayed him and hurt him more than anyone or any bullet ever did before - you. (@sinner-as-saint)
Fallin' For Ya (❤): Bucky finds himself standing in front of your door with a bouquet of roses, wondering when he’s ever allowed his stone-cold mafia heart to fall in love with you. (@kurogxrix)
Yours To Wield (❤❅✘): with the enemy threatening to obliterate your family, you’re left with no choice but to take the hit just so he would spare your loved ones. Belonging to a mafia family requires sacrifices to be made at every step, and in order to save your family you make the ultimate one - you offer yourself up to the enemy. Bucky Barnes isn’t a man one negotiates with, he owns this city and whatever he says is considered law. But when you come to him with an irresistible offer, he bends his own rules for you. What starts out as an agreement becomes so much more, and the two of you find love where it wasn’t supposed to be. But rare are the love stories which don’t include some sort of war. (@sinner-as-saint)
new! Lover Boy (❅✘): it's the Bridgerton carriage scene, but make it mob!Bucky. (@cryptidcasanova)
new! Starting Over (❤❅): when Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending. (@sashaisready)
#ailoda-recs#ailoda-biker!bucky#marvel#mcu#bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky#the winter solider#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x oc#bucky x oc#marvel fic recs#mcu fic recs#bucky barnes fic recs#bucky fic recs#mob!bucky#mafia!bucky#mob!bucky barnes#mafia!bucky barnes#mafia!bucky barnes x reader#mafia!bucky barnes x you#mafia!bucky barnes x y/n#mob!bucky x reader]#mob!bucky x you#mob!bucky x y/n
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filling the void (4) II a.putellas x sister!reader
prequel one two three
filling the void (4) II a.putellas x sister!reader
you looked up from your coffee as the front door opened, your sister walking through and pulling her headphones down around her neck clearly having gone for a run.
"bon dia hermana." she greeted as you only nodded, sipping on your coffee and breathing a small sigh of relief when alexia headed toward her bedroom.
when she returned a few minutes later her headphones were gone and she'd taken off her runners, padding her way into the kitchen to make herself a coffee and start breakfast.
as you sat at the bench drifting away into your own world alexia was stuck in her head just as much as you were, between worries for eli and worries for you her mind was a mess, only worsening after your confession last night.
a confession which you were praying to every and all god that alexia wouldn't bring up, already incredibly embarrassed about your outburst at the hospital you didn't think you'd handle having to confront anything else head on right now.
olga could sense the tension in the room before she even entered, needing to head off to madrid for a few days for work she'd spent most of this morning worrying about what might happen while she was away but alexia had been firm that it was important she still go.
"hola pequeña." the older girl greeted you as you sent her a smile, alexia glancing over her shoulder in surprise when you didn't make any comment on the use of the nickname, though really she should figure she'd lost the right to battle you about that anyway with her behavior lately.
"amor you called jona sí?" olga murmered, alexia nodding and stealing a kiss when you weren't looking as if you were still a child, the captain having taken the next two days off from training to make sure she was around with everything going on.
"two days, more if i need them." alexia murmured, olga smiling appreciatively knowing how hard it was for her girlfriend to take time off, her work ethic just as dangerous as it was admirable at times.
both girls turned their heads as you awkwardly cleared your throat, alexia wordlessly raising an eyebrow as your fingers drummed anxiously against the ceramic walls of the coffee mug clenched tightly in hand, the beverage itself now long gone luke warm.
"can you take me home please? i have work at nine." you asked quietly, alexia hesitating for a moment as if unsure of a response. "you don't want to come to the hospital?" your sister asked carefully, olgas hand moving to rest on top of hers on the counter.
"i have to work." you answered again, a little firmer this time. "hermana if you call your boss and explain i am sure that-" alexia tried again as you shook your head. "i have to work. i have my routine and i need to be home to follow it, all my things are there. alexia can you please take me home?" you stood abruptly, jaw clenched as you smoothed out the clothes you'd been wearing for the last near twelve hours.
as alexia opened her mouth her girlfriend gently tapped a finger against her knuckles in a silent warning. "i can take you on my way to the gym nena." olga stepped in with a smile as you nodded, alexia watching you hurry away to the bedroom to grab your phone and house keys.
"why does she not want to-" alexia frowned as her girlfriend shook her head, cutting her off. "leave it ale. you need what you need, and fresa needs what fresa needs." olga warned softly, hand tracing the catalan's sharp jawline which tensed but none the less the blonde nodded.
"do you want-" "i'll cook something when i get back before my flight mi vida, go see your mami." olga kissed her cheek, alexia sending her a small smile and pecking her lips a few times in silent appreciation before you returned.
"ready to go?"
~
"-no there's still no update, she's still not really awake yet and she's still on the ventilator." alexia explained with a sigh, on her way back to the car and on the phone for what felt like the hundredth time today, having swallowed the bullet and starting to reach out to close family members to let them know what happened.
"tía i promise as soon as she is awake and less high risk i will call you right away, for now she is not allowed many visitors. alba and i only saw her for a few minutes today and we were waiting for hours." alexia fished her keys out of her pocket and hummed, the rapid spanish on the other end of the line the same thing she'd heard all day.
"sí fresa is okay, alba and i are looking after her." alexia spoke on autopilot despite the way the words felt like ashes in her mouth, an incoming call having her rapidly finish up the conversation, abruptly hanging up and clicking accept.
"hola hermana." alexia sighed tiredly, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder as she paid for her parking and rolled her eyes at the high price but tapping her card none the less.
"were you picking fresa up from work?" alba asked, a slight worry to her tone as alexia frowned, stopping in her tracks. "no. she said you were picking her up, olga dropped her off this morning." alexia answered, hurrying to her car.
"well thats what i thought too. but i am here, the clinic is closed and she is not here, nobody is." alba replied, having left the hospital a couple of hours ago. "mierda. maybe she took the bus? i can go past mami's house now to check if she is there." alexia decided, promising to keep alba in the loop as she hurried out of the parking garage.
alexia wasn't sure to be relieved or annoyed when she pulled into the driveway and noticed the house lights were on, the blurred shadows of a figure moving behind the drawn curtains could be just faintly seen.
knocking on the front door a few times alexia tapped her foot, frowning when the door only opened a slight crack and your head poked out. "what?" you asked, a little bluntly as your sister seemed taken aback.
"alba went to pick you up from work and you were not there, we were worried." alexia started as you rolled your eyes, still refusing to open the door properly. "i finish early on mondays." you answered.
"oh, i didn't know." your sister frowned as you scoffed slightly. "why would you alexia? i'm surprised you both even know where i work." the older girls cheeks flushed a little with warmth.
"hermanita-" 'don't, please." you cut her off before she could speak, not in the mood for the conversation you knew she'd want to start right now.
"pack a bag then, you can stay with me again tonight." your sister forced a smile as you gave her an odd look as if she'd grown a second head. "why?" though when all you received in response was a knowing look, your eyes rolled once more.
"alexia, go home. i am fine here by myself, i have work tomorrow again and i already told you i have a routine." you sighed trying to close the door, frustration growing as the blondes foot wedged in the way.
"then i will stay here, i still have some things in my room." the girl persisted as you shook your head. "you don't need to, and i don't want you to." you replied sharply, though you winced as something thudded behind you.
"oh but you are fine by yourself? who is here with you." alexia's demeanor switched as you kicked at her foot and attempted to shove the door closed but to no avail as your sister easily overpowered your attempts and pushed it open, nearly sending you to the floor as she marched in like a mad woman.
"who is that!?"
you scrambled to your feet and quickly snatched up the four year old who went running toward your sister, sitting her on your hip as alexia stared at you wide eyed and in shock.
"whose niña is this?" alexia stammered out as you sighed and closed the front door. "this is sofía." you introduced, alexia's face softening a little at the shy gap toothed smile the small girl gave her.
"sof this is alexia, she's mi hermana." you introduced back, alexia giving a small wave and melting even further at the way sofía tucked her head into your neck. "since when are you shy pequeña?" you teased, a giggle sounding as you poked at her stomach.
"okay sof, how about you go watch your show while i finish dinner and talk to alexia. if you need anything you come get me or just yell out, vale?" you placed her back down as she immediately hid behind your leg, peeking out at alexia who gave her another wave.
"vale." the four year old chirped, tugging on the hem of your shorts as you bent down to her level, something whispered in your ear making you laugh and tickle her again as she giggled and raced back off to the living room.
"she's one of my friends daughters, her baby sitters sick so i offered to watch her." you explained to your sister who nodded, a little dumbfounded as she followed you back to the kitchen.
"have you been here alone with her all day?" alexia asked with an air of concern as you stirred whatever you were cooking, which your sister wouldn't deny smelt leagues better than anything she made herself these days.
"no, just a couple hours. elena does night school monday through wednesday to get her doctorate, whenever her baby sitter isn't free i watch sofía. normally i'd go to her house but with everyone going on she thought it might be better if i had sof here." you spoke quietly, glancing over your shoulder every couple of minutes to check in on the tiny brunette giggling away at a brightly coloured kids show on screen.
"you look after her by yourself?" alexia asked, shock hardly disguised as you rolled your eyes moving the sauce off the heat and huffing.
"yes alexia, believe it or not i can keep another human being alive for a few hours. i've had enough practice looking after myself!" you snapped, pausing to close your eyes and take a breath.
"i don't want to argue in front of her. i told you i'm fine, you've seen i'm okay, go home alexia, your home." you sighed, turning your back to her again after you'd peeked at the living room over the top of her head.
"fresa i also don't want to argue." your sister started a lot softer as you began to dish up dinner. "you know i want to fix this, alba and i want to fix things." alexia promised as you stayed silent, though before either one of you could speak a new voice piped up.
"you're really tall. way taller than my mami!" alexia jumped a little in surprise as sofía now stood next to her looking up in wonder. "is dinner nearly done?" she shot now next to you, tugging again on the hem of your shorts as you looked down with a soft smile.
"nearly. you hungry?" you questioned as the four year old nodded enthusiastically. "so hungry!" she groaned dramatically sagging against your leg as alexia smiled, suddenly slammed back into the memory of when she and alba would look after you at that age and you too would never leave her alone when she was trying to cook.
one memory in particular sat heavily with the captain as she watched you teasingly shove sofía away and take a test mouthful of the food, groaning loudly and happily as the girl hit your leg and huffed opening her mouth wanting to try for herself.
it was another night where both her parents were working night shifts and a sixteen year old alexia had been left to look after her sisters, alba hidden away in her room taking another one of her teenage angst my life is awful i hate everyone naps she so adored at that age.
alexia had been at training all afternoon, currently playing at Levante, and received the news from the coach that she wouldn't be starting this weekend which now made three weeks in a row.
it had put a dampen on the girls mood significantly, feeling quite lost as to what else she could do to prove herself. she already stayed back, arrived early, trained at home, worked on her skills in every way possible she could but still, nothing seemed to be good enough.
it hadn't helped that with eli only recently picking up night shifts you were still adjusting to the change in your routine, used to your papi not being around after dinner but missing your mami, which lead to you being even more clingier than usual.
"fresa!" alexia huffed as she turned and nearly stepped on you as you hovered by her feet after being sent away a few minutes ago, hugging her leg and refusing to let go no matter what.
"fresa please let go." alexia asked as nicely as she could manage, temper rapidly becoming shorter and shorter as you refused to listen to a single word she said.
first it had been refusing to take a bath, hiding under alexia's bed right against the wall where she couldn't reach you and even going as far as to bite the tip of her finger as she finally grabbed a fistful of your shirt and pulled you out.
next it was trying to drown her in a tidal wave of soapy water when she finally got you into a bath, soaking the clothes she'd not long changed into after her own shower.
but still alexia managed to hold her tongue, speaking to you softly and encouragingly as eventually you sat down and allowed her to wash your hair.
but then you'd ran around half dressed and still wet for half an hour, finding endless amusement in the way your older sister just couldn't catch you, giggling and screaming with delight as alexia resisted the urge to kick you like a football when she finally scooped you up and forced you into the rest of your pyjamas, towel drying and braiding your hair so it was out of your face.
well braiding it as best she could as you'd squirmed and wriggled and kicked, whining that alexia didn't do it right and that it was too tight and then it was too loose and that only your mami knew how to do your hair right.
a full blown tantrum over your hair which took alexia a good half an hour to calm you down again had seemingly tired you out as your sister left you on the sofa with your favourite movie on.
alexia now an hour later than planned started on dinner, stress building as it rapidly neared your bed time and the brunette feared any more disruptions would only worsen your behaviour.
she'd gotten halfway done with dinner before you grew bored of your movie, alexia's attempts to wake up alba to help only resulting in a shoe flung at her head and a door slammed in her face as she resisted the urge to strangle the younger girl.
it seemed the cure to your boredom was to latch yourself firmly to your eldest sisters leg, curling around her like a monkey as no amount of shaking or begging had you letting go.
with all of that happening alexia had almost burned dinner, patience now a thin veil as she firmly yanked you off her leg and placed you down, shooing you away and promising dinner was almost done.
though of course you hadn't listened and immediately returned to hover under her feet now bringing a toy crane your papi had gifted you. and it was the small piece of plastic alexia had stepped on with barefeet, causing her to trip and a hand to shoot out to stop herself from falling.
that hand falling on the stove had meant another wave of pain rocked her body as she hissed and saw red, nearly tripping over you once again as you made noises with your mouth and sat on the floor between her legs refusing to move.
"why do you have to be such a pain! why can't you listen! i said to leave me be and you hover under my feet and trip me and do not go away! go away fresa!" alexia had lost it at this point, flying entirely of a dangerously unbalanced handle as she yelled.
but all of that anger drained from her body in a millisecond like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over her head as she watched your eyes well up with tears, crane clattering to the floor.
"no no no hey pequeña-" alexia cooed softly immediately dropping to her knees and reaching for you but you were gone, sprinting away as fast as your small legs could take you as alexia's heart broke and she stood, quickly pulling the pot off the stove and running after you.
she checked your room first in all the usual hiding places but came up with nothing, calling out for you and begging you to come out, apologizing over and over but even in her own room she couldn't find you, worries growing with each passing second.
alba's door now locked she knew that was out of contention, and her body flooded with relief as she stepped into her parents bedroom and caught sight of your leg in the mirror where you'd wedged yourself under their bed.
"fresita." alexia called out softly, her chest aching at the sniffles which could be heard from your hiding spot, the older girl sitting cross legged on the floor and begging you to come out with no luck.
you refused to say a word bar the tiny sniffles and hiccups that left you, sounds of pain which were much too large for a body as tiny as yours as alexia's own flooded with guilt for her outburst.
"hey fresa ven aquí. nena i am so so so sorry for yelling, i didn't mean it promesa. please come out, lo siento mucho hermanita please." alexia continued to beg, leaning down to peer at you under the bed as you caught her eye with another sniffle, rolling over so you were facing the wall and tucking into yourself even tighter.
with a sigh alexia ran a hand through her hair, jumping as a hand landed on her shoulder, surprised to see alba now stood behind her. she frowned a little as the younger girl sat beside her, pulling something from her pocket and placing it just under the bed.
"fresita." alba cooed, voice thick with sleep as you turned under the bed, spotting your favorite chocolate bar sat a few feet away.
as alba noticed your tiny hand reach out for it she placed a finger on top, pulling the treat a little further away as you frowned and wiggled closer, though again it was tugged just out of reach.
this game of cat and mouse continued for a while until the chocolate bar sat on the floor between your sisters and eventually your head peeked out from under the bed cautiously, both older girls smiling down at you.
you watched them for a moment as neither of them made any move to reach for you, aware one sudden movement could be all it took for you to reatreat again.
when they didn't move you slowly wiggled the rest of your body out, reaching for the chocolate and snatching it, both your sisters holding their breath but sighing quietly as you sat up and didn't seem inclined to return under the bed.
"i'll go finish dinner." alba murmured as you struggled to open the chocolate, alexia sending her a grateful smile as she disapeared out of the room.
"do you want me to open it pequeña?" alexia asked softly as you nodded, shuffling a littler closer as your sister took it from your outstretched palm and opened it, handing it back.
as you took a bite this time alexia reached for you, relieved when you put up no fight as she sat you in her lap, arms protectively wound around you and her face buried in your hair.
"tickles!" you huffed as alexia exhaled tiredly, wriggling around as your sister smiled and turned you in her lap, grabbing under your arms and standing you up so you were both eye to eye.
"fresa. i am very very very sorry for yelling and for if i scared you, i am not mad at you." alexia promised as you nodded and her thumb swiped at the tear tracks under your eyes with a pained smile.
"sorry i tripped you." you whispered out, looking down guiltily as alexia's finger tilted your chin back up so your eyes locked with hers once again.
"its okay hermanita, i know you did not mean to. you just miss mami, sí?" you nodded at that as alexia tugged you into a tight hug, peppering kisses along the crown of your forehead.
"i miss her too fresa, but we will get better at this, we will." alexia promised, cradling your head as you nodded into her chest. "but sometimes when mami is not here and i ask you to do something, i need you to do it, vale?" alexia murmered as you pulled your head back.
"vale. sorry ale." your bottom lip wobbled again as alexia was quick to catch the rogue tear with her finger, kissing your cheek repeatedly and carefully standing still with you held tightly in her arms.
"the kitchen can be dangerous sometimes fresa, especially sat on the floor or attached to my leg like a little monkey." alexia warned tickling at your stomach as you giggled and a wave of relief washed over her seeing you smile again.
"you're just my best friend ale and i don't know what to do without you." you mumbled tiredly with a yawn as your head slumped on her shoulder, fatigue clawing at you as it was now past your normal bed time as alexia melted and almost cried, exhaustion hitting her as well.
"oh mi precioso fresa you are my best friend too. forever and ever and ever nena, promesa."
"my mami stabs people! what do you do?" sofía was now stood back next to alexia, smiling up at her clearly no longer as shy as the older girl was flung into reality, blinking a few times as she adjusted and tuned back in.
"elena works with me at the clinic." you quickly clarified with a small amount of amusement seeing the mild horror flicker through the older girls eyes as she registered what sofía had said.
"i play football. do you like football?" your sister dropped down to the girls level, the two of them chattering away and before you could blink suddenly sofía was tugging her away to the living room with her.
you glanced over a few minutes later to see the two of them sat cross legged on the floor, alexia trying to teach sofía some sort of clapping game as you sighed and dished up a third bowl of the meal.
"dinner is done." you called out, ensuring the stove was fully off as within a blink there was an eager four year old climbing up into her chair as you chuckled and handed her a fork.
"you may as well stay, i know olga is the cook anyway." you gave your sister a small smile as alexia did her best not to let a grin overtake her face as she sat down across from the two of you and you slid her a fork.
"gracias fresa." alexia smiled as sofía paused mid mouthful to give you a curious look. "she calls you strawberry." the brunette pointed out as you nodded. "she does, thats my favourite fruit." you poked at her nose as she huffed and smacked your hand away.
"when she was your age all she wanted to eat was strawberries, for every single meal." alexia added on pulling a stupid face at the girl who giggled. "you can't do that silly!" sofía shook her head at you.
"can too, and strawberry milk." you grabbed a napkin and sofía's chin in your hand, wiping the copious amount of food which missed her mouth away as she whined and tried to push you off.
again alexia was hit with a wave of nostalgia, vivid memories of when she sat in your chair and you sat in sofia's, the smile fading from her face as her stomach churned with guilt, somewhat grateful for the small four year olds constant chatter meaning neither you or alexia really had to interact much.
"alexia do you have a football? can we play?" sofía grabbed your sisters hand once she was done helping you clear the table, hitting the catalan with the best puppy dog eyes she could muster not unlike you did all those years ago when you were determined to get your own way.
you caught her eye and the slight raise of her eyebrow, pausing for a moment before sending the blonde a curt nod. "i'll wash up." you declared, dismissing her attempts to offer help as sofía pulled impatiently on your sisters hand.
"sí, i have lots of footballs nena. ven conmigo and you can choose one!"
~
you'd been keeping a close eye on the pair as they raced and chased one another around the backyard, the summer evening sun starting to fade fast as you dried and put away the last plate.
you'd like if you said it hadn't shocked you a little to see your at times quite awkward sister be so open and care free with sofía, you having caught her earlier chase the small girl around the backyard pretending to be a football eating monster.
you'd be lying to yourself if similarly to alexia watching their interactions didn't bring up any thoughts or feelings toward your own childhood but in no state of mind to unpack that just yet you squashed it deep deep down and refused to acknowledge it.
you were stood on the back steps just about to call the two of them in now the sun was near fully set when it happened.
all it took was a misplaced step and suddenly sofía was falling head over heels, skinning her knee on the brick retaining wall of the small vegetable patch in the corner.
alexia's sisterly instincts kicked in as she raced across to comfort the now crying girl but you beat her to it, quickly lifting sofía up and into your arms as you bounced her up and down.
"hey hey hey nena its okay! you're okay. just a little fall sof, you're okay." you repeated over and over, your sister watching on a little dumbfounded as you hurried inside, alexia grabbing the football and following.
"hey you're a big girl right? big girls get skinned knees! its all a part of growing up sof." you sat her down on the kitchen counter as her cries turned to hiccups and she nodded.
"its okay to cry though nena, its good to cry sometimes! never let anyone tell you you're not allowed to. sometimes tears can be happy as well!" you kept the girl engaged as you cleaned her knee, poking at her stomach and making jokes, her giggling distracting her from the alcohol swab wiping away at the small graze.
"now, i need someone really really special to help me make a very important decision. anyone?" you asked, holding something behind your back and making a silly face, sofía nodding eagerly as her hand shot into the air.
"anyone? does anyone want to help?" you pretended not to notice, looking around as the four year old huffed and alexia smiled softly hovering nearby watching the interaction. "me! me me me!" sofía chanted impatiently as you sighed.
"i guess nobody wants to help!" you threw your hands up and turned to go as a small hand grabbed a fistful of your t-shirt and tugged. "oh! do you want to help me sof? why didn't you tell me!" you teased, jabbing playfully at her sides as she squealed and kicked at you.
"i will help." the girl nodded as you did the same. "okay. mickey mouse, or goofy?" you held up two different plasters as sofía's face lit up and she instantly pointed to the goofy one.
asking her to sit still for a moment you carefully applied the plaster over the small graze, kissing the top of her knee and standing up straight away. "all fixed! i think we do not need to cut this off...yet." you grabbed her foot and inspected her leg with a frown.
"hey!" the brunette gasped as you pulled a shocked face and ruffled her hair, picking her back up again. "bath and bed." you pinched her nose as she groaned but made no move to fight, going limp in your arms as you smiled and kissed her cheek.
"i'm just gonna..." you jolted a little admittedly having forgotten alexia was still here as you noticed her, your sister nodding in understanding.
"don't go yet! i wanna say goodnight." sofía yelled to alexia over your shoulder as the girl promised she wouldn't and took a seat on the sofa, exhaling as she did so, head swamped with a tidal wave of memories, only worsened as she stared around at her childhood home.
alexia hadn't realised how long she'd been trapped in her own mind but what felt like mere seconds later a body was latched to her leg and you were waiting in the hallway, arms crossed and a large wet patch on your shirt where the four year old had gotten a little too enthusiastic with the plastic duck she always had with her.
"buenas noches alexia. it was fun playing with you!" sofía smiled a little more tiredly now, climbing onto the sofa and hugging the older girl tightly who perhaps clung on a second or so too long, flashes of when it was you hugging her goodnight still lingering at the back of her mind.
"it was very nice to meet you nena, remember drive through!" your sister pretended to kick a ball as sofía giggled and copied the action before waving and racing back to your side as the two of you disappeared again.
when you returned around fifteen minutes later now changed into dry clothes and the four year old sleeping peacefully in your bed it wasn't a surprise to see alexia curled up on the corner of the lounge watching something.
you didn't say anything at first as you settled at the opposite end, a somewhat uncomfortable unspoken tension filling the gap between the two of you.
"i assume you are staying the night then." you spoke up first, knowing alexia well enough that when she had her mind set on something it was near impossible to change it.
"sí." your sister confirmed as you gave a small nod. "you are very good with her." the blonde commented next, throwing you a small look as your own eyes stayed fixated on the tv.
"as kids go she's pretty easy." you gave a shrug, tucking your knees up to your chest. "everything you do with her, i used to do with you." and there it was.
"alexia-" you started with a small sigh. "no, fresa i know. we don't need to speak about it, i just wanted to say it. she reminds me a lot of you is all, and i miss it sometimes." alexia admitted, nervous that with one wrong word it might send you recoiling into yourself and off to your room, worsening things.
a beat of silence paused and alexia took that as a silent cue you were done, turning her head back toward the tv.
"sometimes i miss it too."
you'd spoken so quietly you weren't even sure if your sister had heard you, grateful that if she did she chose not to comment on it, the two of you sitting in silence that albeit awkward was a little less tense watching television.
alexia looked up from where she was getting some water in the kitchen at a soft knock at the door, watching you hurry over to pull it open, an unfamiliar girl just visible through the window as alexia leaned against the counter.
no words were exchanged as you lead the girl inside and the two of you returned a moment later, sofia back in her mothers arms as the girl who didn't look much older than twenty two or three loaded her into a carseat.
when she returned to speak with you alexia hadn't meant to eavesdrop and overhear, she really hadn't.
"thank you so so much for this chica, she adores you and i appreciate you." elena sighed pulling you into a hug as you assured it was no problem and you were always happy to help out if needed.
"please don't give me that look." you sighed after you told her you'd see her at work tomorrow. "mateo said you could have the whole week off and with pay! why are you working?" elena told you off firmly but not unkindly.
"i like working." you justified with a shrug, the older girl not buying it as she raised an eyebrow and you deflated a little. "i can't see her like that el, i can't." you whispered out, voice on the cusp of cracking as alexia's eyebrows furrowed from where she stood within earshot.
"she's your mami amiga she would want you there with your sisters, supporting each other through this. not stabbing grumpy old men with low iron!" elena teased with a soft smile as you barely cracked one of your own.
"your sisters are trying, sí? let them try, i am sure that they love you very much." elena promised as alexia was taken aback at her words, the jealousy which had been simmering at the surface of the comfort this stranger was providing you instead of her, easing a little.
"i know. but i can't see her like that, i can't." you repeated with a shake of your head. "why?" elena asked softly, a hand sat on your shoulder with a gentle squeeze as you shook your head.
"you can talk to me about anything chica, you know this. we all love you and are here for anything you need!" your friend encouraged gently, alexia's grip on her glass tightening as she heard the unmistakable sound of you choking back a slight sob before the next words you whispered shattered her heart completely.
"because the last time someone i loved when into hospital, he never came back."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
five
#woso community#woso#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso blurbs#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas#🍓☀️
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Cowplant Mod
This mod makes it possible to give cowplants unique names and adds new ways to interact with them.
🏷️ Give name: a new interaction that appears on unnamed cowplants. Choosing it pops up a window where you can write the name and optionally, change the recolor. (The recolor can still be changed later with the recolor tool, too.)
You can see the cowplant's name on interaction strings, when you grab the cowplant, or move it into inventory. Your sims will also enjoy talking to named cowplants more.
If you want to change the name later, there's a debug option (appears when shift-clicking the cowplant with testingcheats on) for it.
🗨️ Talk to/with: increases social and nature enthusiasm, and is very cute, as the cowplant gets some pats too. This interaction uses new anims edited from the existing cowplant anims.
💢 Tease: already existed in the game but was only used by ghosts. Now your living sims can tease cowplants too and it'll make the cowplant go hungry faster (hunger won't change if the cowplant is teased by ghosts). Meaner sims gain a little fun from teasing.
All the interactions are available for children as well. If you feel like they should spend time playing with a giant carnivorous plant, this mod won't stop you.
In addition, this mod includes a small fix for the cowplant that makes it possible to repository other objects to it.
Download (SFS) (alternate)
The file is compressed. University and Pets are required.
You might need to replace existing cowplants for them to update. This mod is compatible with buyable career rewards.
⚠️ The mod is pretty thoroughly translated, the amount of interaction strings with the cowplant's name varies for some languages. If you find mistakes, please let me know.
🚨 Likely conflicts with cowplant-related mods but run HCDU+ to be sure. Should be compatible with ghost-related mods like Cyjon's less cowplant obsession or playable ghosts can haunt by @jellymeduza.
For cowplant cures zombies mod by @roguebotanist there's a compatible version by @equinoxts2.
Update (12.6.2024): Playable ghosts teasing the cowplant won't affect the cowplant's hunger anymore.
Update (10.6.2024): Stopped sims from being able to talk with cowplants when they have the cake out. Added a reaction at the end of the tease interaction to get it smoother and made meaner sims gain a little fun from it. Fixed an issue for some older disc installations where the naming window didn't show the default cowplant recolor. Russian translation got improved.
Big thanks to @pforestsims for all the ideas and testing! This mod wouldn't exist without them. Also thanks to everyone who gave feedback about translations!
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Forgiveness is Electric
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Just a little short story about @critterbitter's hc of Emmet, Ingo, and Elesa. This is between the Volume Control and Volume Control (Reprise). Just a tiny change, Emmet caught Tynamo bc I sort of forgot when he did... My bad. Please go take a look at Critter's work, it is beautiful in every sense of the word.
I lied about posting to AO3 last time with Yearning for Wood Floors, but I will update that soon along with this one.
Enjoy!~
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“I do not think she will like those.”
“Who doesn’t love sweets?”
Ingo argued, plucking a box of Snom-Caps and turning it over and over in his hands. He contemplated the choices of candy in the aisle, the teenage clerk puffing their long, purple-streaked hair from their eyes behind the counter as the two children agonized over their decision. The clerk, Dakota, saw Ingo and Emmet in here all the time, the former had something of a sweet tooth and the latter… Well, whatever the opposite of a sweet tooth was, that was Emmet. The kid just loved sour things.
It wasn’t unusual to see them, but it didn’t usually take this long for them to make their selection. They had been there for nearly fifteen minutes, painstakingly reading each and every label and discussing them in hushed undertones. That was unusual by itself. Ingo was not known for his volume control.
Although unusual, they weren’t worried about them doing anything shady like stealing or being careless and knock things off the shelf. Might as well let them go about their business. To pass the time, they watched the fretful newly acquired Tynamo circle around them faster and faster until Emmet snatched the Pokémon deftly from the air and soothingly stroked its back.
“I am Emmet. We do not know what she likes.”
“We must do something! I just feel so dreadful.”
Emmet could see Ingo working himself up over this, just as he had a few hours ago, and Emmet placed a reassuring hand on his brother’s arm. His smile and eyes softened as his twin turned to him, Ingo’s eyes glittering with emotion and whatever proclamation dying on the back of his tongue.
He hadn’t meant it. He really hadn’t. He always got too loud when he was excited.
It had just backfired on him horribly.
Ingo cringed even now as he remembered the tears in her eyes, her hands slapped over her ears, and eyes huge with confusion and pain. She had run off before he could even apologize, and that knowledge was eating him alive all day.
Candy wouldn’t fix this. In his heart of hearts, he knew that, and maybe he had come here to grab himself some of his favorite snacks to ease the pain of losing a potential friend.
It was hard for them to understand others. Emmet and Ingo were so in-sync with each other that everyone seemed to be moving so much slower by comparison. It was like playing charades with someone who was underwater, the twins made perfect sense to one another, but it was unclear to everyone else.
This was not new to them, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating.
With their moms being busy with work and their uncle who didn’t have much interest with them most times, Emmet and Ingo came to rely on each other almost exclusively. Drayden would give them a little bit of pocket change, but never much. They had to be ultraconservative with what he gave them and had taken it upon themselves to run around Anville Town to take little odd jobs.
Leaves to rake? Oran berries to pick? Snow to shovel?
Emmet and Ingo did it all and saved what they could. They barely scraped together the money to purchase the Pokéballs needed to catch Tynamo and for additional balls to try and catch Ingo a starter.
Even though they knew everyone, they weren’t really close to anyone in town.
That could have been different if Ingo hadn’t ruined everything!
“Perhaps sweets are not the solution…”
Ingo finally admitted, setting the box down and rising to his feet. Readjusting his cap on his head and dusting off his knees to unconsciously tidy his appearance, Ingo’s frown deepened in thought. Even if he and Emmet apologized to her, Miss Elesa would not understand them. Drat! If only he had remembered her hearing aids, he had completely forgotten them tucked behind her black hair.
Emmet watched his face scrunch up, clearly having a long inner dialogue with himself where he alternatively berated himself and told himself that there was no crying over spilled milk. Gray eyes scanning the shelf, he took a bag of sour gummy-Bewear for himself, and chocolate covered pretzels for his brother, before hauling them to the counter where Dakota waited.
Tynamo drifted just below his elbow, still quite nervous around new people and often retreating to its ball when too anxious. Emmet’s soft encouragement was the only thing keeping the EleFish out while Dakota rang up both bags.
“Tynamo? Good for you, kiddo. I hear they’re not easy to catch.”
They rested their elbows on the counter, chin resting atop with a kind smile to the quieter twin. Dakota could see him beaming with pride, but he merely nodded, shuffling on the spot while he fished in the pocket of his overalls for some money. His Tynamo, like its trainer, seemed a little bashful at their words, and retreated into its ball.
“200… I think you brother is comatose over there.”
Dakota said not unkindly. Emmet jerked his head to where his brother stood motionless in front of the candy.
“Ingo!”
It was Ingo’s turn to jerk out of his, as Dakota had put it, “comatose state”. He trotted over to his side, staring at the bags of candies with confusion before it all seemed to click into place.
“You did not have to spend your pocket money on me.”
Emmet’s smile softened at the bashful note in his sibling’s voice. He wanted to. Ingo was feeling down, his twin often overthinking problems and burning himself out in the process. Emmet liked to take a step back to listen and reflect on people and conversations. A little break would do Ingo some good, so he insisted on the treats.
“I am Emmet. I wanted to. Yup!”
While Dakota bagged their treats in a small brown paper bag, they couldn’t help but lean over the counter to examine them. Although many people didn’t understand the secret code that the twins exchanged between glances, mouth twitches, and hand movements, Dakota could tell something was awry. Withholding the bag, they leaned over the counter with a faintly curious expression and a light tone.
“You guys alright?”
Unsurprisingly, the two exchanged looks, and a wordless conversation was held between them while Dakota waited. It was Ingo who swiveled his head back to face them, his face knit into a calculating grimace that seemed a little less friendly than usual, but only marginally.
“Yes,” he said slowly, eyes not breaking with the clerk, but they could see him shifting uncomfortably. “Emmet and I are attempting to right a wrong. However, we are encountering several roadblocks.”
There is a pause. Dakota still held the bag just out of reach as they gnawed on their lower lip. This wasn’t really their business, and they weren’t the type to stick their nose in where it didn’t belong… They thought of Drayden, who spent a lot of time in Opelucid and not watching his nephews – he barely spent any time with them.
They’re just kids.
“Do you need some help? It’s my job to help customers in the store y’know.”
Another pause. Another exchange of glances.
“I-” Ingo tries to being, already hard pressed to say anything and even less so when his sibling elbowed him in the ribs and shot him a look. He wouldn’t be allowed to take all the blame. “We upset one of our classmates with our carelessness. We think she was attempting to befriend us, but- uh… there were a few errors on our part.”
“And you’re trying to get candy for her to forgive you?”
“We thought about it, but it grew too complicated. We do not know what candy she likes, but more importantly, we do not think it’s a suitable apology.”
The clerk nodded, tapping the counter in thought as they tried to piece together some genuine advice for the boys.
“I think it’s a nice peace offering, but I think an apology would be better.”
“We broke her hearing aids… Yep…”
Emmet croaked suddenly, shrinking back in shame at the same time that Ingo grabbed the brim of his hat to tug it lower over his eyes.
“Ah,” Dakota hummed, tapping the counter even faster. They meant the new family that moved in from Sinnoh. They remembered their dads talking about the new signs that had to go all over town for the girl’s safety. Dakota couldn’t remember her name. “How did you break them?” They asked, already knowing the answer.
“Volume control.”
Ingo cringed, remembering his uncle’s warning about his naturally loud voice. Inside voice, Drayden had been emphasizing, and Ingo was trying to take those words to heart, but it was difficult. Since Ingo’s face didn’t emote well, he relied on his voice and his movement to articulate his emotions to others. They nod sympathetically.
“You didn’t see them?”
“No…”
The boy was squirming now, his shame and embarrassment with the situation reaching an all-time high. He felt Emmet moving to his side, reassuringly pressing against his arm, and resting his head on his twin’s shoulder. A flood of comfort helped Ingo release a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.
Behind the counter, the clerk was rummaging through something – although tall for their age, Emmet and Ingo couldn’t see what they were doing. They heaved a box onto the counter, tipping it so the contents spilled out for them to see, and the boys were confused.
“Headphones?”
Emmet leaned forward on his tiptoes to look at the colorful array of boxes that ranged from normal headphones to ones that had Pikachu and Eevee ears topping them.
“Yeah, uh, maybe if she wears these, you’ll remember right away that she has headphones in.”
It was a half-baked idea. In truth, Dakota felt a bit sheepish about it now that the idea was out of their head, but when they looked up, the boys were beaming – well, Emmet beamed. Ingo reminded of them of their friend’s Purrloin in a way they couldn’t quite put their finger on.
“Bravo! What a marvelous suggestion!”
Ingo practically cheered, stepping beside Emmet to look through the headphones. It was probably going to cost them a bit from the tags on the boxes, but it would be worth it. The headphones would immediately remind Ingo that she had hearing aids in so he would be more inclined to get Miss Elesa’s attention in a different fashion, but it also might do the same for others who were unaware of her deafness.
“Sure – er, thank you…” Dakota was looking at the prices now and mentally smacked their forehead. They probably couldn’t afford the headphones. “I’ll-” They hesitate. It almost pained them to say what they were going to next. “I’ll pay for them so you can take them to her now.” The twins’ eyes went wide, both about to protest when Dakota interrupted, “In exchange, you can do a few chores for me at my place. I need to do some yardwork, but it always gives me hay fever. Sound like a deal?”
The answer was easy for them. Dakota told them to pick ones that they thought Miss Elesa would like.
“I think these ones are quite dashing.”
Ingo said, picking up the box with the Pikachu ears. Emmet pursed his lips and shook his head.
“Nope. Too big. Not a gamer girl.”
They continued to rummage through the boxes. They agreed that she must like Electric types. She had a Blitzle as her partner after all.
“I cannot recall, she is from Hoenn, correct?”
Emmet shrugged, unsure himself because they had both been looking through a magazine with an expose on the newest train lines running out of Nimbasa when she had been introduced. That just meant to them that, when the time came, going on their Pokémon journey by rail would be all the easier.
“Not sure.” He looked at the box Ingo had in his hand and his smile broadened, nodding in agreement to his brother’s unasked query. The perfect balance of subtle but stylish. “I am Emmet. Those are perfect.”
Plusle and Minun headphones.
#pokemon#submas#fan fiction#fanfic#fanfiction#fan fic#sorry critter#i started writing about Tynamo before i remembered he probably didn't have it by that point#im just gonna say newly acquired and cross my fingers#tynamo is shy#nobody knows about it#🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞
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stars and stripes
ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: nipple play, novelty underwear, balls, anxiety, democracy, the pledge of allegiance, friendly brotherly contest, alcohol, prelude to oral sex (m! receiving) word count: 5k summary: Roles are reversed this Fourth of July when you surprise Joel with a little festive treat of your own.
A/N: happy 4th of July to folks in the US and happy general election day to my fellow UK pals! If you haven't exercised your right to vote yet, and you're registered, you have until 10pm BST tonight to get to your polling station - as long as you're in line by 10pm, you'll be able to vote. do dress up Joel proud, and go do a democracy.
I make absolutely no apologies for anything in this fic. not a single thing. especially not that thing. tis the season. happy ballidays, pals!
follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics
As it turned out, Joel knew a guy who knew a guy who could fix your AC, and within two days your house was a safe haven from the burgeoning Texas summer.
Easy as that, apparently. Your desperate attempts to call around HVAC companies the week your AC busted seemed stupid now that it was all a matter of simply knowing a guy.
Not that it was all easy. Letting someone else into your house after everything that had gone on suddenly felt scary, and it took Joel promising you he'd dip from his own job for the afternoon to keep an eye on things for you to feel okay with any of it.
But, even that left an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach.
You'd told him to let himself in, though this time you'd given him a key, and that felt like something. For as many times as he'd broken in, and for as long as you'd left your house open and vulnerable - and, by extension, yourself - handing over your spare keys to Joel for the day felt more vulnerable than you'd ever felt with him wandering your house at unknown hours of the day and night.
It felt like something all over again when you handed them over to him the next week too - there was a jammed drawer he wanted to fix, and he said he could get in to see to it before work one day.
Even when you opened the door to him on the nights he didn't have Sarah - his daughter, you'd learned - it felt like something. Especially knowing that that spare key now sat attached to his own, jingling in his pocket each time he walked into your home, invited.
And the more somethings it felt like, the less you felt like figuring it out.
It continued the same way for weeks. Him moving back and forth the short distance between his home and yours, while you stayed safely cocooned in your own, cool, four walls.
Then, barely one month into this officially unofficial something that you were, it was finally time for you to make that short journey down the street to Joel's.
Being honest, the thought of it had terrified you, and you'd almost backed out multiple times.
Not because it was Joel, or Joel's house - at least, that's what you told yourself - but because a "the whole neighborhood is invited, bring snacks or beer" type of Fourth of July party wasn't the kind of way you'd envisioned your first time in Joel's home. You figured maybe it'd be dinner, or a movie, or a quick fuck against the stairs with Joel's balls trussed up in something. Normal things.
Not loud peopley things.
Still, you readjust your top once more, take the briefest of glances in the mirror, and head out the door anyway, nerves be damned. You can totally handle a Fourth of July BBQ at Joel's house.
You think you can all the way up to Joel's driveway, when the nerves come back with a vengeance and you stand there, feeling sick, listening to the sounds of people and music coming from the backyard.
You try to tell yourself it all makes sense. It's a new place, a place that should mean so much because it's his, but try as you might you can't fight back the panic rising as you think of the very many faces that are going to be in this new place too. Familiar faces, faces you'd seen most days as you went about your life down this street you called home, people you'd shared small talk with and said good morning to almost every day as you left for work.
Then there's this stupid outfit you're wearing. The you from weeks ago chose it the very same day you said yes to Joel's invitation, and the you of today didn't have the energy or inclination to think of anything else. Wear whatever, Joel had said, it's just a casual thing. So, you'd gone for casual.
Braless is casual, right?
Not that that was a specific choice, more a necessity. You'd chucked the third bra on the floor in a huff, cursing your shitty outfit choice and lack of bra to fit it, and instead decided to stick on some nipple pasties and be done with it.
All that's done now, and now here you are, still standing like an idiot in the driveway, closer to Joel's home than you have ever been, psyching yourself up to go inside.
With a deep breath of the dry Texas heat, you head for the open back gate, the soft sound of your shoes on the paving stones so loud in your ears as everything wooshes and fizzes in your head.
It's somehow both better and worse than your expectations.
You're immediately greeted by a sea of recognizable faces, the bottle of wine you forgot you were even holding whisked out of your hand and taken inside before you can even get your first round of hello's in. You don't have much of a chance to be nervous, or self conscious, or any of the things you'd worried about being in the days leading up to being here, because there's just so much of everything around you. Noises, smells, people.
Everything, except for Joel. You've not caught a single look at him since you got here - minutes ago - and you wonder if he's even here and not relaxing back at your place on the couch.
Then you see him. At least, you think it's him. His back is to you, locked into conversation so fierce he hasn't noticed the commotion about your entrance.
You think it's him, but you're also certain you don't know of anyone else who would dress head to toe in red, white, and blue candy stripes. The sight of it makes you forget your own outfit worries as a grin forms on your face, and that familiar rumbling of something in the pit of your stomach comes back all over again.
"Not eyein' the very slightly younger model, are you?" comes a gruff voice that has you twisting rapidly on the spot, the smile barely given chance to fall from your face when you spot the actual, real life Joel standing right there next to you, cold beer in hand.
In your own defence, real life Joel isn't dressed much better than the other Joel stood over the other side of the yard. He's probably dressed worse, actually. He's head to toe in stars, all the way from the novelty headband on his head to the flashing star lights clipped to his shoes. It's gaudy, and camp, and so perfectly Joel that the smile that dipped from your face for all of half a second is back, and you're grinning up at him, that feeling in your belly violently boiling away now that he's right there.
"Oh, him?" you say with a wave of your hand. "Nah. He's like a dollar store version of you."
"Really? I'll be sure to tell Tommy he's Dollar Store Joel from now on. He'll love that. Hey, Tommy!" he calls over the yard, before slipping his free hand behind your back. "C'mon. Let me introduce y'all."
He guides you over, hand never leaving the small of your back, touching you out here in front of all these people as if you are actually officially the kind of something that everyone should know about. And maybe you are.
But then, you're looking into familiar friendly eyes, so similar to the ones you've been staring into and dreaming of since Christmas, and watching this familiar strangers face light up so brightly you briefly wonder if his joy is misplaced until he's wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.
"Shit, he weren't lying," says Tommy as he rocks on his feet with you in his arms before releasing and looking down at you. "You are real."
Before Joel can land a firm whack to Tommy's shoulder, Tommy's pulling you in for another hug, telling you how nice it is to finally meet you, because he's heard all about you, dropping in a few choice words about his asshole brother here and there as he chatters to you, and Joel, and even himself.
At some point, whether it's during the fourth hug or the eighteenth, you're not sure, Joel slips off to grab you a drink, leaving you with his bizarrely dressed brother.
"Ain't never seen him smile so much without Sarah around," he says, the moment Joel's out of earshot, giving you a nudge and another fond smile. "Y'know, I think he might like you."
"Mm, I think I might like him too."
Small talk with Tommy is easy - the man's a talker, if you ever met one. He's a charmer too, and if you met him in a bar you might think he'd be coming on to you with the way he so attentively talks to you, only directing his attention elsewhere for the briefest of moments.
"What's with the outfits?" you eventually ask, with a flick to his striped top hat. "Joel never said it was a dress up party."
"Oh it ain't, this is just a family tradition. Dad always used to dress up in dumb shit for the holidays, make us laugh, and it just sorta stuck. 'Course, added in some friendly competition over the years too, and then this," he says with a dramatic sweep down his body, "was born."
"Competition?"
"Mhm. Joel'll tell you, won't you brother?" Tommy says with a wink over your head before ducking sideways to raid the snack table.
"What am I s'posed to tell you?" he says, handing you your drink, letting his fingers linger near yours and stroke a trail of burning heat gently up your arm before falling back to his pocket.
"The competition."
"S'easy. Stars or stripes," Joel points to himself, decked out in stars and then to his brother where he stands loudly chatting to yet more guests in his candy stripes. "You gotta pick. Most votes, wins."
"I've got to pick?"
"'s the rules, darlin'."
"So you want me to pick between you, or some costumed guy I don't know - a practical stranger?" you say, with a glint in your eye, watching Joel's face drop in faux offence.
"You wouldn't."
"Don't underestimate me, Joel. I think you know exactly what I'm capable of."
Your eyes meet in a silent stalemate, the glint in your eye never leaving as Joel bites at his cheek to hold back a laugh. Tommy was right - you do like Joel, some days too much, and moments like right now, you think maybe it's reciprocated, and you like him just the right amount.
Poking him in the chest, finger pressed to the middle of one of the sea of stars decorating his body, you let yourself break first. "Stars, Joel. I pick stars."
With a roll of his eyes, and a kiss pressed lightning quick to the side of your head, Joel's hand winds back around your back.
"Thank fuck for that. Let's get you a votin' card so you can make that official."
⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆
As the evening draws on, you think you've talked to just about everyone in your street several times over, and then some. It also turns out that Joel and Tommy take their little competition very seriously, and always have, if your neighbors are to be believed.
By the time the votes have been counted and Joel in his star spangled outfit is declared the winner, Tommy has sunk to his knees, his hat toppled off in his despair as he hangs his head in shame.
You're still listening to them bicker as you sneak off to use the bathroom, their voices only disappearing when you've slid the patio door shut and taken your first official step into Joel's house.
"The headband swung it."
"The headband is Sarah's, and your massive skull is breakin' it..."
Even through the mess of the party, you can see that this place is distinctly Joel, with hints of a 10 year old girl dotted around the place. From the pictures on the wall to the cushions on the sofa - mostly a rich navy, but one soft pink nestled in with the blue - through to small ornamental carvings on a side table and the drawings stuck on the refrigerator.
You're looking at one - not a masterpiece by any means, but very decent attempt at a bluebonnet - when the pressure inside the house changes again with the slide of the door.
It's Joel, arms laden with bottles, and the headband flopping forward pathetically on his head. "You snuck off quick," he says, dumping the bottles onto the counter. "Get lost findin' the bathroom?"
"Distracted. Never had chance to sneak around your house looking at your shit before," you quip with a smile, trying to get comfortable with the very uncomfortable thing that brought you two together in the first place.
"Then shoes off. Lemme take you upstairs, give you a little tour, and you can use the bathroom up there. Probably in a better state than the one down here now anyway."
He holds your hand in his all the way up the stairs. That something rears its head again, igniting your palm where it meets his, your brain not registering a single word he says as he points to various doors before dragging you through one, into his bedroom.
His lips are on yours immediately - or yours are on his. You can't quite work out who started it, you just know that you're a tangle as your hands roam each other, biting and licking kisses into each others mouths. His hand finds your ass, and you're moaning as he presses you forward, into him, and the soft lump in his pants. You want to grind yourself against him, but the angle isn't right, and a nagging forgotten thing is worming through your brain when Joel pushes your bodies together once more.
Oh. Right. You remember now.
"Joel - mmph - Joel," you say with urgency through his kisses. He pulls back, searching your face with panic and a pinched brow. "I really gotta pee."
With a kiss to your forehead he lets you go, pushing you toward his ensuite. When you exit a few minutes later, he's exactly where you left him, stood with his hands in his pockets, looking sheepish as he possibly ever could.
"I'm glad you came," he says, looking at you and setting that something off roaring through your body again.
"Me too. I... I've had a nice time."
"Just wanted you to know I didn't invite you here just for, y'know," he says, with a gesture to his bed. "Didn't bring you in here for it either. Just, sorta missed you. Not used to not bein' alone with you. It's weird sharin' you."
You don't want to remind him you've barely left each others sides all night. You don't want to draw too much attention to the something, just in case you scare it away.
"Damn. Got nothing for me? Nothing at all?" you joke instead.
"Got nothin'. Nothin' planned anyway," he says with a look around the room, his eyes focussing briefly on a drawer before flicking back to you.
Really, you should be leaving space between you and Joel. Space for the something to flourish, space that is just enough to not magnetize your body to his, smashing yourselves together and turning the nothing into something. What you should do doesn't have the power to stop your feet from slowly pulling you toward him again though. And it doesn't stop you from putting both your hands on his chest when you finally reach him.
"No? Got no magic tricks up your sleeve? I was hoping for a wand or a rabbit or somethin', you do look like you ran away from the circus."
"I'll have you know this shirt is the finest polyester you can find at Party City."
"Mm, sounds sweaty."
"Like you wouldn't believe."
"So you're sweaty and gross, and you have nothing to wow me with? I'm starting to wonder why you invited me." Which is a lie. You know why, and so does he, and you're glad for it, even if it still frightens you to think about it too much. You suspect he knows an awful lot more about you than you've told him. He's perceptive like that.
"Maybe I'm retractin' your invite."
"You wouldn't."
"No?"
"What if I've got a little something for you instead, am I still invited now?"
Joel's eyes light up and soften all at once, turning so bright and sparkling you think he might cry. It's not exactly that you've never done anything for him in the ways he has for you. When he mentioned his favorite snack, you got some in the house for nights you spend watching a movie before devolving into fucking on the floor. You bought new lingerie, which only ever stayed on if it was too difficult to get out of, and once or twice he'd caught you wearing the heart shaped butt plug before leaping on you and pounding you into whatever surface was nearest, thumb pressing down on the base and making you see stars.
Still, for all you had done, you never swapped positions in the little game you'd been playing with each other for over seven months. Each time, he was the one who came to you with some silly thing or trick or toy to tease you with, and each time you loved it. You hoped he would love this too.
"You do?"
"Mhm," you say as you put some distance between the two of you again. Space to breath, space to move, space to let the something calm back down into the pit of your stomach and curl in on itself like a cat settling down to sleep.
Your let your fingers glide up your body, gently pulling your skirt for a moment before they coast up your belly and reach your shirt, flirting with the hem before curling around it and tugging, letting your tits jiggle behind the fabric.
With a final soft tug, you peel the fabric up your body, the swell of your breasts spilling out the bottom of your top.
"Holy shit, baby," he says, a whisper of a moan on his lips. His eyes have been glued to you, wide and curious, ever since you suggested you may have something for him. And now, they're darting from your chest to your face then back down, taking in the sight of your covered nipples.
You had made some choices earlier today, in your nervous state. Going braless was only one of them. The pasties too, were another. And then, there was the shape. You has flowers, hearts, circles, straight tape and, finally, stars. It was a no brainer when you'd rifled through the packet for two that matched that white stars were the perfect choice for today. It'd only really occured to you when Joel had worn his own stars, that you were perhaps better matched today than you thought, that maybe you could have your own little game with him for once.
"Told you I was all in on the stars."
"Damn right you are," he says as he approaches, his hands finding their place on your waist, itching to move upward. "They don't hurt?"
"They're just pasties, Joel. They're soft. Feel."
And fuck, does he feel. His hands cup you, gently squeezing the softest part of your breast before letting his thumbs dance across where the pucker of your nipple should be. The sensation is muted, infuriatingly muffled by the feel of the pasties covering you.
"S'good?"
"Imagine I stroked your dick over your pants. It's good but it's not the same."
"Damn," he curses, thumbs still gently rubbing over your nipples, watching them slowly come to life and prickling beneath the coverings. "They come off easy?"
"Like a bandaid."
"Shit."
And you just know what he's thinking, because you're thinking it too. There's no real way you can take them off right now and let Joel have his way with your nipples like you're both desperate for, even if time and the swathe of people downstairs wasn't an issue. You have nothing else to cover up with and the soft breeze combined with the cold drinks and the age of some of the guests here means it's probably not a good idea to go without them.
That doesn't stop Joel from kissing you again though, more restrained than he has any right to be with your tits in his hands. You know from his frustrated groan when you bite at his bottom lip that he's two seconds away from telling everyone the parties over, only to come back up here and continue with a party for just two.
To your surprises, he pulls your top back down. Not before kissing one breast, then the other, then back to the first. You know he wants to sink his face into them, but he doesn't let himself, and he rises from his crouch with a groan and pulls you out of the room.
"Don't show Tommy," Joel whispers to you as you make your way back down the stairs. "He'll say the contest was rigged."
"Damn, I was so hoping to show your brother my nipples."
⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆
Joel's eyes keep flicking to your chest for the rest of the night. More than once he drags you away inside, either upstairs or into the garage, just to ask you to show him one more time. If you weren't covered, your nipples would have been rubbed and pinched raw by his eager fingers by now, just as your lips were swollen by his eager mouth.
By the time it's all over, you're positively exhausted, propping yourself up on the arm of a chair and talking to Tommy as Joel waves off the last of the guests and closes the back gate.
You had barely left his side all night, and if anyone had anything to say about it, you hadn't heard it. Neither had Joel. And Tommy, a clever man when he wanted to be, hadn't made a single joke about it either. All in all, it was as much of a successful day than you could hope for, initial nerves aside.
Tommy, continuing to be a clever man, doesn't put up much of a fight when you offer to be the one to stay behind and help clear up. Of course, he's already gone around and collected most of the trash, and put the leftover food inside, but he relents at your insistence he head home - you do only live down the street after all.
Neither you or Joel get much further with the cleaning. Once trash bags are dumped in the garage and you've both washed up, his hands are back under your top, damp fingers cupping your breasts and pulling you back into him.
"Stay?" he asks, as if there was any other ending to this night, as if Tommy hadn't left precisely for this reason.
You barely agree by the time his mouth is latched onto your neck, drawing unrestrained moans out of you right there in the kitchen now that you're finally alone.
His hands, of course, find their way back up to your top, stroking over the edge of the pasties once more.
"You really like 'em, huh?" you ask as his thumb brushes the edge of one, starting to curl and pull the point of one of the stars.
"Like that we match. Feel like you picked 'em for me," he mumbles into your neck, releasing one breast and tucking his hand into the waistband of your skirt. "Like that I've had somethin' to think about, somethin' to play with, even with all these people here."
Fuck, if you haven't liked that too. Letting him play had been one of the highlights of your night so far. Being manhandled into the garage, giggling and pushing Joel as he clasped his hands together in a plea to please see your tits. The souvenir love bite you'd let him suck into your left breast after dragging you back upstairs for a second time. You'd spent half the night flipping between Joels hands and mouth on your tits, to being dragged back out to socialize. Your pussy had given up trying to regulate itself after the third session of Joel's teasing, and you'd spent the rest of the evening wet and waiting.
This is a fact he finds out now, as he slides his hand down over your mound to cup you over your panties. You both let out the same curse as he presses and wiggles his fingers back and forth over you, rubbing your clit over your underwear. You had hoped to peel the pasties off before you fucked him, giving him full access to your nipples for the first time tonight, but you don't think you're going to make it that far, not now his hand is pulling your panties aside, feeling for the slick wetness between your lips and dragging it up, up, up to swirl around your clit.
Not a second later you're scaling the stairs for what you know will be the final time that day, this time you dragging Joel as you both kick of your shoes and stumble up the steps. You already ache from all the standing, and if you have it your way, your legs are going to be shaking and trembling too much for the rest of the night to possibly be of use to you.
With his door pushed open, left wide now the house is empty, you pull yourself back into him, only for him to slip his still wet finger between your lips, letting you taste yourself before he captures your mouth, licking your taste from your own tongue.
Then, your hands find his chest, that ridiculous shirt, and pull at it, tugging the fabric taught to his body, eager to get it off and tumble into his sheets with him.
You were right about how sweaty he'd be under the shirt when you finally get your fingers on the buttons, working your way down until you can pull it off. He's shining underneath it, the dark hair of his body slicked down as you drag your hands up over his chest, to his shoulders and then down to his belt.
He suddenly stops you, pulling your hands away, pressing kiss after kiss to your mouth as he fumbles with the buckle. In a huff, after a few failed, distracted, attempts, he pushes you away and pulls off his belt before unzipping his pants.
Joel has barely tugged them down his legs when you're staring wide eyed, howling with laughter, staring directly at his cock. Only, this time, it stares back.
At least, the bald eagle on the front of his boxers does.
"What are those?"
"Nothin'," Joel says, covering himself and trying to tug his boxers over his erection with one hand still trying to pull off his pants. Grabbing his hands, you stop him, pleading as you tug them away from his crotch.
"Show me."
"Look, s'nothin. Just another stupid thing Tommy got me and I thought it'd be funny but..."
"Sure looks like you got somethin' there for me. All this time you were sayin nothin'. Don't tell me you're getting shy on me now. C'mon. Please."
You pout, trying desperately to get him to give in when you have an idea and you're tugging your top off over your head and throwing it to the side, brandishing your star covered nipples to him once more.
"Pretty please," you say with a small shimmy, and Joel's hand immediately falls away, coming up instead to cover his eyes with a sigh.
It's a sight to behold. Really, it is. The eagle is staring back at you once again, still bolstered by Joel's solid length and the heft of his balls behind it. What you hadn't noticed before is it's sitting on a canvas of United States flag, stars and stripes covering his thighs, his hips, his ass.
"Oh wow. Joel those are -" you cough out a laugh "- those are amazing."
He's rolling his eyes. You can hear it in his voice and see it in his posture. "Yeah, real funny, I know."
"No, I like them. Very festive. And y'know what," you say, cupping his cock right over the eagle print of his boxers as you clear your throat. "I pledge allegiance -"
"No, don't you d-"
"- to these balls -"
"Stop."
"- and the cock they sit under -"
"Oh my god," he says, fighting through a laugh, your fingers squeezing and massaging as you pledge yourself, whole heartedly, to the appendage in your hand.
" - one - uh, cock and balls? Is there even a collective word for cock and balls? - under Joel -"
"It's just gettin' worse."
"- definitely indivisible, no divisible balls here - "
"You're killin' me."
"- say it with me now - with liberty and justice for balls."
You try to keep a straight face as you finish. Really you do. But as Joel's whole body shakes and ripples, his balls jiggling in your hand as laughter wracks through him, you can't help but fall into him, letting yourself be propped up by him as you crumple in on yourself in delight.
"You callin' my balls Liberty and Justice now?" Joel finally says through a laugh.
You slide a finger up the leg of his boxers, pulling gently on them as you stare down at the flag adorning his ass and balls.
"Yep. You're Star Spangled Joel with your side kicks, Liberty and Justice."
You give his balls a little squeeze again as you name them.
"Now that you pledged your allegiance, you gonna keep yappin' or you gonna prove it?"
But it's too late, because you're already sinking to your knees, right there in his bedroom, a place you both know you're going to wake up in the morning, wrapped in each other as the sunlight peeks through the curtains.
"Just try to stop me."
next part
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Also going to finally make a pinned post for all my stuff:
BOGLEECH - my tumblr blog is named after this website I created around 2002 and still update. Thousands of pages worth of content focusing on creature design as well as real biology. My review of the original Legend of Zelda monsters might be the most straightforward example of my articles. Links to some of the most popular content:
POKEMON REVIEW ARCHIVE: - I rate and review each and every single Pokemon, in Pokedex order, on its merits as a creature design. I also do so as someone whose favorite animals are all parasites.
DIGIMON REVIEW ARCHIVE - same, but more chaotic.
CREEPYPASTA COOKOFF ARCHIVE - for several years I hosted a yearly writing contest before it grew too big for me to keep up with. There are over a thousand user submitted horror, fantasy, sci fi and surrealist stories here emphasizing unconventional, original ideas you seldom see from the "creepypasta" community!
The original "MORTASHEEN" Monster Archive - since the early 2000's I've created and illustrated more than 800 creatures and counting for my own monster-catching world, now set for release as a tabletop RPG setting.
AWFUL HOSPITAL: SERIOUSLY THE WORST EVER (page one): an interactive comedy-horror-sci-fi webcomic I started in 2014 about a medical facility that could maybe be better.
Some of my other internet stuff:
PATREON - constant work makes my patreon updates inconsistent, but the content backlog goes back years with a huge amount of exclusive art and writing. I try to put up new exclusive stuff whenever I can.
ETSY - I design all sorts of original enamel pins like these, plus I sell zero-maintenance terrarium plants (just leave them in a jar!), original books and other things!
COLOR THE ABYSS (available on the above etsy!) - a 30 page educational deep sea coloring book! Includes a few famous favorites like giant isopods and hagfish, but mostly focuses on less popular, often much weirder animals.
UNBELIEVABLE BUGS - also regularly restocked in the etsy store, 30 of the strangest and most surprising arthropods most people have likely never heard of, illustrated by myself and @revretch, written for even the youngest kids to understand (but will likely teach you something new at any age)
My Itch.io and Ko-fi - both sell digital versions of my books, including some creepypasta collections and my first novel, "Return of the Living," about a world of entirely ghosts suddenly dealing with the appearance of ghost-hunting monsters.
TWITCH CHANNEL - I now try to stream something at least monthly, sometimes weekly when possible, from horror games to books and art.
YOUTUBE CHANNEL - archives my twitch streams and other little things.
INSTAGRAM - look at pictures of my huge weird collection of toys and Halloween collectibles
BLUESKY - I'm going to put mainly just updates to my stuff on here. SEE ALSO:
HUMANS-B-GONE - a science fiction animated series by my partner @revretch, about a world of kaiju-size, technologically advanced insects and arachnids to whom vertebrates like us are just pesky little "gubs." Also has a tumblr account @humansbgone FINALLY, HERE'S MY GUIDE AND RESOURCE TO MAKING YOUR OWN INTERNET WEBSITE IN A FEW MINUTES WITH NO KNOWLEDGE OF CODING
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Health and Hybrids (XXX)👽👻💚
[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]
🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.
💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)
Where we last left off... Several therapeutic white boards were drawn on. Everyone reading was so good and normal about it. So were the characters, presumably.
Trigger warnings for this story: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.
💚👻👽👻💚
Additionally: apologies to Adwen and Allmune on ao3, to whom I directly said I wouldn't do this; I lied. (Whoopsie).
Also additionally: Bonus fic snippet you may have missed
💚👻👽👻💚
“Are you hungry?” Danny’s new therapist asks, her fingers playing with her pen.
Danny shrugs.
Pretty quickly, they’d figured out that these sessions went…worse…when Danny was hungry. Hunger makes him upset. Being upset makes him want to speak less. Not talking ruins the whole affair.
“Want to talk?”
Danny shakes his head, and sprawls out onto the couch—he’s allowed to basically position himself however he feels comfortable in the room, and if he has a choice, he’d rather just hang out horizontal. Does it make getting back into his chair harder? Yes. Is there a lady with super strength right outside his the office door who is willing to pick him up at a moment’s notice? Also yes.
(It’s kind of silly, but, if his legs ever stop feeling so sore…Danny is. Well.)
(He’s kind of curious how tall he’d be if Diana held him piggyback.)
“Want to draw? Paint?”
Drawing is a high-stress activity. Danny tends to default to memories when he draws these days, and he’d rather not think about that right now. Finger-painting is another option, but it’s pretty messy…even if it would be fun…
Danny’s therapist (?) (he's pretty sure that’s what she is?) is a blonde woman, with a quiet face and piercing eyes. She’d probably be less intimidating if they knew each other’s language, if Danny’s being honest; usually these types of people try to talk their way out of being intimidating. Instead, Danny sits on her pinstripe couch in unbranded sweatpants and a thin white tee, and she wears a suitjacket over her tights.
It’s all very strange. It’s not more strange than his chaperone’s usual outfit of plate armor and tiara, but still.
“Want the language bócastréon again?”
…Danny hums in thought, hands crossed across his chest. He’s pretty sure they’ve tried building a thing that’ll detect his language, like, three different times by now, but every time it winds up like the Fenton Ghost Gabber: mindlessly repeating his words back to him, unable to make heads or tails on translation. At least these trials don’t end every one of his statements with I am a ghost, fear me.
Oh well. It’s better than nothing. Danny shrugs.
The therapist clicks the machine on from a switchpad at her elbow, and a blue holographic screen fills the air. Danny only spends a little bit of time batting at the display like a cat, watching the light play off his hands for his own amusement.
“Please begin,” the thing says, and the same text pops up on the screen.
“S’up,” Danny tells it, and grins when the little display starts its very, very, long, and very, very familiar, buffering process.
Danny already knows this isn’t going to work. He might as well have fun with it.
He talks about his day, he talks about his old bedroom; he talks about what he had for lunch, toying with one of the sucker-toys he woke up with ages ago even though he doesn’t know who gave them to him. He talks about his friends, because he loves them—not Tuck and Sam, who he’ll miss the rest of his life, but Mikey and Poindexter, and what school had been like for him. Quiet topics. Easy topics.
Normal topics.
…Danny isn’t’ sure he’ll ever have normalcy again, but…remembering it isn’t so bad either. He plays with his weird suction cup toy with both hands and he talks.
“…So I ended up getting stuck without the Speeder like a million zillion miles from the portal. I thought Jazz was going to kill me, since she needed it to take her girlfriend to prom the literal next night, so I had to run around for like forty minutes looking for someone to help me out— but at least Wulf was like ‘Ne estas problemo’ and he helped me sniff out the weird cheese Vlad had left in the center console of the Speeder the week before—“
The box beeps. “Lingvo identigita: Kryptonian.”
Danny bolts upright as fast as his limbs let him.
Danny was never as good as Tucker was with Esperanto, but— But that’s Esperanto. Danny’s hung out with Wulf long enough, did enough Duodioma with the stupid little muppet bird mascot. The box didn’t call it the right thing, but—
—But—
The therapist looks at Danny, eyes wide. Danny can’t even look at her. He’s too busy staring at the discount-aisle Ghost Gabber.
“Diru ĝin denove,” Danny demands sharply. Say it again.
The screen automatically translates his words as he speaks—in Esperanto, and then into their own language, the two transcriptions populating side by side when Danny speaks.
At this point, the woman’s mouth is open. Danny would be right there with her, but—
Danny sits there, numb.
He has a language. A language that is mostly guesswork on his part and the occasional swears Wulf will teach him as a joke, but, still, a language.
A language made up by a doctor in Poland. In the eighteen…somethings. And these people with superpowers know it. And they know what it is.
And the therapist looks at him, stunned, with new eyes, as if she knows something new about him now.
…What the hell is Kryptonian?
*
There isn’t Kryptonian plural. Danny thought there there might be.
There isn’t.There is pretty much only one.
One. Singular. Kryptonian.
That feels worse, somehow.
*
Notes taken [DATE REDACTED] 2023, 22:37 UTC.
Participants are:
KE: Kal-El of Krypton, Codename: Superman. JD: Patient, John Doe, Codename: N/A. Patient file attached.
Note: Conversation was recorded in Kryptonian. Machine translation has been provided for convenience.
*Addendum: Yeah, I can get Jor-El on this, no problem –Supes
KE: This conversation will be recorded. Are you alright with that? JD: Conver…? KE: (Writing gesture) This talk. JD: Oh! Yes. KE: Good morning. My name is Kal-El, and I am of Kryptonian descent. On Earth, I serve as a protector. My title on Earth is Superman. JD: Superman? KE: Yes. JD: (Laugh) KE: Thank you. May I know your name? JD: (No answer) KE: Take your time. You may decline as well. JD: …I… (Pause). I do not… KE: That is alright. Do you have hobbies? JD: …What? KE: What do you like to do? JD: …I like to learn about space. I like to…when the fast child…we play games? KE: The fast kid? Impulse? JD: Impulse? (Incredulous) KE: That is his title, yes. JD: Why is his name Impulse? That is… Is that an insult? KE: I think he chose it? JD: (Stunned silence) KE: You like space? JD: Y…yes. KE: Tell me about it? JD: Do they not tell you about me? KE: I hear news. I have not met you face to face. JD: (Shrugs) KE: Not since you bit me, anyway? JD: I bit you? (Incredulous) KE: You were injured, and you were scared. I did not mind. JD: I am sorry! It was an accident! (Upset) I did not mean to! I do not remember— KE: It is alright, it is alright! (Placating) JD: (Cries) KE: Hey… (Touches shoulder) Oh, sorry. I should not do that. It is alright. My dog bit me yesterday, and my son bit me the day before. It is alright. You did not hurt me. JD: (Still crying, hard to decipher) You have a dog? KE: Yes! I have a dog! He is also from space. His name is Krypto. Here, I have pictures! (Takes out communicator)
*NOTE: pictures mentioned contain images of Superdog and Superboy(II)
JD: (Still crying) Are you supposed to ask me questions?? I have been here… I have been here for a long time. People want to know about what I am, and where am I from, and what I can do, yes? KE: Well…yes, but there is a lot of time. There is no limit. JD: (Wipes nose.) KE: All I am supposed to ask you today is if you have any allergies. See?
*NOTE: List of potential allergens has been attached to patient file.
JD: (Takes list from KE) Allergi…? Oh. No. I am… No food makes me sick. I can eat all foods. I cannot take…there is a sick medicine. For a cough. I cannot take that. KE: Good to know! (Alarmed) I’ll tell your doctors. Do you like your doctors? JD: …Yes. (Shyly) They are nice. KE: Wonder Woman says that she already asked if you feel safe. Do you feel safe with your doctors? JD: I do. Everyone here is kind. I eat a lot. I get exercise. We play games. I take breaks. I see space. I do not worry here, unless I get scared by accident. KE: I am…very glad to hear that. (Chokes up.) My son is about half your height. If my son was far away, I would want someone to help him too. We only want to do our best for you, alright? Please tell us if something is wrong. JD: So I can fight? KE: Pardon? JD: I am meant to fight, right? KE: No, no—not fighting. Just healing. And resting. JD: And then after… I am supposed to fight? KE: No. No, not—you don’t have to fight. The only thing we need is for you to be healthy. We don’t need you to fight anyone. JD: Everyone wants me to fight. (Begins stimming with slime) There are many children here. They all fight. I am eventually going to have to fight. I know.
*NOTE: Slime was provided by Medical team for therapeutic use.
KE: (Pause) Who is everyone? JD: (Silence) KE: Did someone make you fight, before? Is that why you were injured? JD: (Silence) KE: I am sorry if they did. That is not fair. You are not an adult yet, and even adults should not have to fight unless they enlist purposefully. You are a child. JD: No one thinks I am a child. KE: Who said that? JD: (Silence) KE: Did someone hurt you? JD: (Pause) I do not want to talk. KE: Alright. Can you tell me why you do not want to talk? JD: (Silence) KE: Would you like to fight? JD: I am good at fighting. KE: That is not what I asked. JD: There is no choice? When there are bad things and bad people, someone has to fight. I am strong—when I am not injured, I am strong. I fight. There are people who are not strong, and cannot fight. I can fight. I fight. KE: (Silence) JD: This is why you are healing me. KE: (Pause) No, little one. That is not why. JD: (Pause) Oh. (Puts down slime) Am I…am I going to be data again? Are you going to test my body? KE: (Puts face into hands)
[PAGE 1 OF 4]
[Interview is to be reviewed by Black Canary and Dr. Pranathi Russo MD, Pediatric Psychologist.]
*
“It’s bad!” Clark says with a watery smile, because Clark isn’t Superman at the moment—in Bruce’s home office, as private as a place as the world can get, Bruce is only Bruce, and Clark is only Clark.
When Black Canary had suggested that their debrief happen somewhere private where Clark felt safe, Bruce had known that there would be bad news. Still, he pours a mug of coffee that Clark will metabolize all the caffeine out of anyway, and pours a long, thick cup of the stuff for himself, and settles back into his warm leather chair.
“Tell me,” Bruce says, not quite Batman, but not quite Bruce either.
“Bruce, he ‘knows’ we’re going to make him fight. He thinks we’re healing him to be a child soldier.” Clark’s laugh is half joke and half derision. Bruce thinks that he understands. “He thinks we’re keeping him here as—like property, where if we pick up something dumped on the side of the road, we can fix it back up and put it to work. Like an engine, or, or…or like a lawnmower. It’s awful.”
Bruce skips the creamer and goes straight to the Baileys beneath his desk for garnishing.
On the one hand, Dick has been flying out in Gotham since he was a preteen. There had been no question about training him; training was the way one kept their children safe, the same way that Alfred had taught Bruce how to shoot as a child—no matter how much Bruce had loathed it at the time.
On the other hand, Jason’s death plays out in his nightmares in technicolor around…once every few months.
The fires. The flames.
(The alien boy found in a wrecked vehicle outside the Kent farmhouse, curled up in fear.)
Bruce thinks about Damian, and how long it had taken for Damian to understand he could be loved as a child who loved animals, and not a future prince of Gotham.
…Bruce passes the Baileys to Clark.
The Kryptonian won’t absorb any of the alcohol in any meaningful way, but he dumps the remainder of the bottle into his coffee nevertheless.
#tw alcohol#specifically as a coping mechanism#Clark has his own turn to go through it#after that Dinah has HER own chance to go through it#happy chapter thirty to all and to all a good (looks at clock) afternoon#after that the medical team all takes their turn going through it/having realizations as to why Danny's been VERY compliant#the important thing to remember about working in medicine is that you can't go around crying all over your pediatric patients#it freaks them the fuck out. And then where will you be? That's right: with freaked out patients#health and hybrids#danny phantom#dp x dc#tw medical#tw gore#tw body horror#although at this point we're mostly a recovery fic#dcu crossover#dpxdc#dcxdp#faer fic
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In honor of the fact that this week we're back to present day, I present you a lovingly rendered illustration in which absolutely nothing of interest is happening.
Welcome back to that fic about human Bill Cipher being the Mystery Shack's prisoner, but like, it's a kinda chill prisoner situation now, chapter 79 (we updated the numbering). Nothing happens this chapter! They return from fishing, a goat bothers Bill, fish are deboned, Bill and Dipper experience a moment of common ground and hate it, Mabel misunderstands mermaid reproduction, Bill lies to Stan about Chinese philosophy, and Ford and Bill discuss the mysterious lack of pockets in women's pants.
I'm deliberately picking the most mundane parts of this chapter but seriously not a bunch happens this week. We're easing back into things after the roller coaster that was the Axolotl arc... and more importantly, we're setting up for next chapter.
####
When they'd parked at the shack, the Ramirezes got out of the truck with no trouble; but as soon as Bill stepped foot on the ground, Gompers was butting into his leg and bleating.
"Hey, what—?"
Gompers shoved his nose into Bill's palm and licked his fingers.
He jerked his fingers out of range. "Whoa, hairy. A little personal space. I had one snack for you, that's it."
Gompers stared at him reproachfully.
Well, if he wanted more, the nutrition pill Bill fed him before the fishing trip must not have had any ill effects. The pills passed the poison test; Ford hadn't been trying to pull the old "wrap a drug in cheese to sneak it down the throat of a dog or recalcitrant psych ward patient" trick.
Either that, or the pills were laced with something a goat wouldn't readily notice. Or Ford had only poisoned a couple and was willing to wait for Bill to do himself in at some random point in the future.
Bill decided to add the nutrition pills to his emergency supplies anyway. There might be a day when he'd need that food badly enough to risk it.
"Do I look like your private chef?" He pushed Gompers's nose aside. "Get outta here."
Gompers bleated petulantly and sulked his way toward the forest.
"Bill!" Mabel shouted at him from over the roof of Stan's car. "Why didn't you tell me you have a birthmark!"
"A—? What, you mean this?" He gestured in a line from his left shoulder to his right hip, following the path of the fatal wound that had cracked his soul in half. "Nobody told me I was supposed to!" Right, she hadn't had a chance to see the mark until the fishing boat got back, and then they were all distracted by the circling threat of taxpayer-funded eagles. She'd better not get fixated on his rebirthmark. Just talking about it made the cracked edges of his death wound itch beneath his shirt.
"It's cool! It looks like the Milky Way!"
Bill considered that. "Huh! Whaddaya know! I guess it kinda does." Just the thought that the crack in his soul was full of stars made it itch less. He smiled.
"I guess it's something you have in common with Dipper."
He stopped smiling. He caught Dipper's eye, they mutually grimaced, and Dipper tugged his hat down lower over his forehead and hurried indoors.
Bill said, "If you start calling me 'Milky,' I'll—" Well, he couldn't threaten to kill her, she'd never believe that. "I'll uncap all your markers and leave them in the sun."
"What! I wasn't going to, jeez."
As Bill caught up with Mabel—waiting for him out on the porch after the other adults had filed in—he distracted her from his heinous threat by poking her in the arm and saying, "Hey, I saw you make the catch of the day! Nice work, Shooting Star."
Her face lit up. "Yeah, look!" As they walked inside, she pulled out all her photos and shuffled through them until she found the one showing off her catch. "Isn't he amazing? He'd make beautiful baby mermaids."
Bill had just received a fleeting glimpse into a fantastical world inside Mabel's mind where mermaid reproduction was much more fascinating than it was in reality. He decided it would be a crime to correct her. "Boy, you're telling me."
He was trying to figure out how to casually work the suggestion that the golden trout was sacred to the Masons into the conversation when Mabel gave him a mischievous grin and said, "And I saw yooou talking to Wendy's friends. About yourself."
Bill's heart leaped into his throat. "You what? No you didn't. What?"
"Yeah you diiid! Telling them all about how you met the 'triangle guy'?" Mabel gave him the biggest most obvious wink in the history of unsubtle subtle looks.
"How...?"
"Oh yeah, didn't I mention?" Mabel said casually, examining her nails. "I'm psychic now."
Bill gaped at her as he mentally ran through all the possible timelines he knew of where Mabel gained psychic powers and tried to figure out which one they'd veered into. Had she gotten a wish out of the golden trout after all—?
She burst out laughing. "You bought it!" She stuffed the photos away, dropped onto the sofa, and pulled out her phone. "No, I'm in a group chat with Tambry. She's my meme dealer."
"Oh." Well, now he felt stupid. He knew about that meme chat. He griped, "You're playing dirty."
In response to this dire accusation, Mabel blew a raspberry. She held her phone up to Bill. "Look!" He sat by her to look.
Tambry had sent a message that read "u & ur bro looked sooooo cool out there (lol not)" accompanied by the video she'd taken of Mabel and Dipper trying to arm wrestle Bigflipper. Faintly in the background of the audio, Bill could hear Nate and Robbie talking: "Hey Robbie, think I could beat him?" "Pfff, no," then Tambry's much clearer voice, "Bet Wendy could."
And then his own voice, obviously talking twice as loud as the teens even though he was farther from the mic than Tambry: "Buuut anyway, yeah, I might've talked to the triangle guy a couple, several times."
Mabel's snicker drowned out Nate's response.
Bill shoved her head. "Hey, they're the ones that started talking about me! They were dying to talk about me!"
"Sure, Bill." Mabel elbowed him. "Hey, want me to see if I can get them to invite you to hang out?"
"Hmm! Is Tambry the kind of teen that isn't too proud to take advice from a 13-year-old?" Not that he didn't like the offer, but Bill could hardly accept Mabel's help if it would lower his coolness in the eyes of his budding worshipers.
"Oh yeah, she's fine! She commissioned matching gothy friendship bracelets for her and Robbie."
Then Tambry would probably go along with it. "Great. You're officially my agent now."
"Yesss!"
The harder question was whether Ford would go with it. "Buuut let's hold off on arranging anything. I don't think my reputation would ever recover if they invite me out and I have to tell them I can't come out to play because I'm still grounded." He supposed if the teens ever met up at night, he could sneak out; but eventually somebody in the shack would desperately need to talk to him at 3 a.m., and once they knew he had a way to escape unaided he'd have no choice but to bail on the town and move in with his cultists before the Pines could lock him up again. His cult would be far more accommodating hosts—but that would set his progress back significantly. Besides, the self-professed Cipherwives were desperately clingy in a way that was only sexy for the first week or two before it started to get grating. He'd prefer to deal with them in short bursts.
"Right," Mabel groaned. "If you don't get out soon, it'll mess up all my plans!"
"Oh, yeah?" He was pleasantly surprised to hear she was up to some sort of mischief that needed his unique capabilities. "What kind of plans?"
"No kind until you're free." She frowned, chin in her hands. "How do we get them to okay you going outside more...?"
Bill could feel the muscles in one cheek work as his mouth twisted into a rueful half smile. "If I think of anything, you'll be the first to know."
####
"Heya, St—"
"Stay outta the kitchen," Stan snapped.
Bill froze with one foot through the doorway. "Whoa, you're really ramping up my food restrictions."
"No! I'm using a knife, I don't want you near it." He waved the knife demonstratively. He was currently deboning the fish they'd caught at the lake.
"Aww, so thoughtful of you! But you don't need to worry about me, I know how to handle myself around a knife."
"Uh-huh, that's what I'm afraid of."
Bill sighed loudly, leaned in the doorway, and crossed his ankles.
He watched Stan work for a couple of minutes. "Wow. You're so slow at this."
"Shut up," Stan said, squinting as he tried to pick the ribs out of his current fish.
"I'm falling asleep watching you."
"I'd like to see you do better!"
"I could do better! I could debone a guy in seconds."
"Ha."
"No knife. Just my bare hands."
"Ha!"
"Zhuang Zi wrote about the technique." Loftily, Bill added, "That's a Chinese philosopher, by the way, since I know you don't know. See the trick is you've got to slide your fingernails into the gaps between the meat and the bone—"
Stan smacked down the half-deboned fish, gestured at it, and said, "All right. Then let's see you do it." He stared expectantly at Bill.
Bill stared back.
Stan kept on staring. He spread his hands. Well?
Bill said, "All right, get over here."
"Why?"
"So I can debone you, genius."
Stan paused, debating whether he was willing to call Bill's bluff and risk the possibility that he did know some kind of deboning magic; then he marched up to Bill, crossed his arms, and said, "All right. Do your worst."
Bill eyed him warily. "Fine. Hold on." He stuck the tip of his thumb between his teeth.
"What—what are you doing?"
Between gritted teeth, Bill said, "What do you think, Goofus? Getting a fingernail I can slide between your meat and bones." He pulled out his thumb to give it an irritated look. "Wow, this one's stuck on tight." Back to biting.
"Forget it." Knowing Bill, he really would bite off his own thumbnail just to prove a point.
"Too scared to risk it, coward?"
"No, I just need my bones today." Stan returned to the fish and resumed deboning. "Whaddaya want, anyway. Trying to get in the fridge?"
"No, I'm here about the fish." Bill pointed at the pile of discarded bits growing by Stan's elbow. "If you're not using the heads and spines, I want them."
Stan looked at him suspiciously. "What for?"
"Funsies."
"What?"
"Fun," Bill said, "sies."
"That's not a word."
"Fine. Secret esoteric demon purposes."
"Why would I let you take them for demon purposes!"
Maybe that hadn't been the best excuse he could have pulled out. He decided to double down on it. "Oh, so suddenly this household is prejudiced against demons?"
Stan could sense a looming stupid argument. He decided he wanted nothing to do with it. "Are you gonna use them to stink up the place?"
"Not deliberately."
"Are they for some... curse or hex or something?"
"Nope!"
"Are you gonna injure or kill anyone."
"I feel like I'm letting you down, Stanley! Tell you what, give me three minutes and I'm sure I can think of a way to murder you with a fish head."
"Just take the dumb things."
"So generous of you." Bill swooped in to scoop up the heads and spines (while Stan held the filet knife well out of Bill's reach) and, rather than ask Stan to open one of the cabinets for him, grabbed a couple of dirty bowls from the sink and a bottle of dish soap so he could scrub them himself. "Enjoy your fish mutilation! I know I will!"
He washed the bowls in the bathroom and half filled one with water—as much as it infuriated him, it really wasconvenient to be able to access the main bathroom without having to ask—and returned to his room. He tugged the console table from the wall to beside his sofa, set the bowls on it, and started picking the meat Stan had missed off the spines. (He wished he could still debone a man in seconds.)
He'd hardly cleaned a few ribs when he saw Ford ducking into the room a few minutes in the future. He sighed. Really? What did Ford want. Bill kept working as he awaited the arrival, but now he was irritated about it.
Footsteps trudged up the stairs; and Ford pulled open the curtain. "Bill—" Ford yanked shut the curtain. "Why! Aren't you wearing a top!"
"To make sure you never forget to knock before barging into my room again!" Bill pulled his t-shirt back on and called sweetly, "Come in."
Ford peeked through the curtain to make sure Bill had replaced his shirt and hadn't done something like remove his bikini bottom. Bill pretended he wasn't paying attention to Ford's reaction. He kept picking off meat as he said, "I'm still better dressed than you, at least." (Ford had pulled on the coat he'd retrieved from Bigflipper without washing it, and was wearing the one brown boot he'd fished out of the lake with one black boot.) "You smell like five different gallons of stink in a two ounce cologne bottle."
"Don't act like you care." Ford apparently concluded it was safe to re-enter. His face was bright red and twice as stern-looking as it had been the first time. Hilarious how humans' capillaries did that. His eyes caught on the bowl of fish bits, and he asked warily, "What do you have those for?"
Bill picked up one of the fish heads, made direct eye contact with Ford, popped out one of its eyeballs, and ate it.
"Oh." If Bill didn't know better, he would have thought Ford looked disappointed. (What, because he couldn't yell at Bill about using magic in the shack?)
"If that's all you wanted to know..." Bill gestured toward the stairs.
"No, actually. Just—got distracted."
"By what?" Bill batted his eyelashes. "Saw something you liked?"
Witheringly, Ford said, "You know I didn't." (Bill barked a laughed. Yeah, he did know.) "No, I uh..." He grimaced. "I needed to... ask for—information."
The smirk faded from Bill's face. "Oh. Did you." He returned his attention to picking flesh from fish bones. "Well, isn't that a shame! Because I'm not holding office hours. The professor's retired."
"It could affect you, too."
Bill rolled his eye spectacularly. "Fine." He flicked a needle-thin rib bone toward Ford. "State your case."
"Those government agents who were at the beach," Ford said. "The same ones that were here last summer. What do they want? Where are they from?"
Oh, them. No surprise that the humans were worried, though. Bill himself didn't know what could possibly have brought the eagles to town unless it was Trembley (which didn't seem likely to take them to the lake) or the portal (which Bill did not want them to meddle with).
Truth be told, seeing them made Bill nervous, too. "All right," he said. "I can tell you something about them."
"What?"
"You're wrong: they don't affect me too!" Bill waved cheerily at Ford. "Byyye! Leave." Truth be told be damned, who wanted to tell the truth?
"Oh, come on, you have to give me something," Ford said. "That's what you do. You—you taunt! Drop hints!"
"And look where that got me!" He gestured theatrically at his surroundings. "Stuck in a sack of meat on Earth's ugliest couch! When's the last time that giving you my knowledge benefitted me?"
Coldly, Ford said, "I believe it was when you conned me into building your portal so you could invade my universe."
"Yeah, see?" Bill said. "It's been over thirty years since I got anything in return for teaching you! Everything I've told you since then has been used against me."
Ford took in a deep breath, held it for a moment as he thought, and let a long, frustrated sigh out his nostrils. Humans breathed so expressively. "The last time you didn't share what you knew, you almost got us all killed by an invisible axolotl."
Bill fixed Ford with a sharp look. "Oh! So if I don't tell you what you want to know, you're planning to drag me on another forced march!"
Ford winced. Oh good, his conscience had finally kicked in. "No. I'm not."
"Great! Because I've decided if you ever do that again, I'd rather die and take my chances with the afterlife. And then we both get to find out whether I get my real form back."
"Noted."
"Got any better offers?"
Ford thought. He rummaged around in his pockets. "I haaave... Bigflipper's wallet?"
"Ooh." Bill eyed it. "Real leather?"
Ford flipped it open. "There's a stamp that says 'Vera Pelle'."
"Oooh, Italian leather," Bill said. "You speak Italian with a bad Latin accent, by the way."
"I didn't ask. Is this good enough?"
"Wallet with its contents?"
"Just the wallet, for starters." He flipped through the wallet's contents as he said, "We discuss the rest for more information." He saw something he apparently liked, made a little impressed noise, and took one of Bigflipper's cards to slip into his pocket.
Bill was loath to give Ford anything. But now that they were hopefully past the point where Ford felt like he had the moral high ground if he refused Bill's terms by dropping him in an ice cold bath tub, it might be to Bill's benefit if he could finally train Ford to expect favors for favors. "I can give you their department's name."
"If I have their name, is that enough information to find out anything useful about them?"
Probably not! "That's your problem, not mine."
Ford shut the wallet. "Either increase your offer or no deal."
Oh, the little snot thought he got to negotiate? "Eh." Bill shrugged. "What do I need a wallet for anyway? It's not like women's clothing has pockets to keep it in."
Ford sighed in frustration. "Do you even know who they are?"
"Do I know who they are?! Do you know who you're talking to? I've taken control of their secretary while she was getting her appendix out! I... Oh! Nope, you're not tricking me into that!" Bill waved Ford away. "Get out of here. I'm not giving you anything."
"Fine. Sorry I asked." Ford pushed through the curtain and left.
And was back a moment later. Bill stared at him expectantly.
Tentatively, Ford asked, "Does women's clothing really not have pockets?"
"They're either tiny or decorative."
"Really? Why?"
"So Big Fashion can sell 'em purses."
"Huh." Ford considered that as he let the curtain fall shut again.
There went Bill again, showing off how much he knew. "Hey—you owe me two bucks for that pearl of wisdom!" Well, he'd just refuse to tell Ford anything next time until he'd paid for the pocket thing.
He turned back to his fish bones. Now that Ford was gone and he wouldn't be interrupted for a while, he could actually get to work.
He cracked open the four fish skulls and carefully scraped their brains into the empty bowl; and then took the first of the spines he'd cleaned off, cracked open the vertebrae along the neural canal, and scraped the spinal cord into the bowl as well. He got to work cleaning the next spine off enough to retrieve its spinal cord.
In his true, proper, triangular form, when he was a being of pure energy unencumbered by mortal flesh and bone, he could invade and control anything with neurons. (Potentially, anyway. If someone else was already using those neurons, Bill had to get their soul out of the way before he could fully take over—but that didn't apply to four dead fish.) He'd had a little book made some centuries ago, in fact, that operated on the same principle: a book whose pages were made out of pulped and pureed human brains, so that Bill could remotely control the pages, see through them, and change their very contents. It was a masterpiece of necromantic magic; a human body disassembled and rebuilt—brain, spine, skin, eyes, blood, teeth—into an awful awesome tome; a miraculous product of interdimensional enchantments and alchemical science; and far and away the coolest coffee table book Bill had ever owned.
It had also been less than worthless. What a waste of perfectly good pulped brains. If he'd used them to print postcards to solicit mail-in political donations they wouldn't have been half as useless. He wasn't even sure what dimension the dumb book had ended up in.
Still. He kinda missed his cool, useless coffee table book. And even though a book of neurons couldn't do anything for him now, if he ever got back his possession powers (when, he reminded himself—when, when, when, not "if," when), it might be useful to have a book designed for that purpose already prepared. Maybe gifted to his cultists, so he could keep in contact with them?
And it would be really satisfying to turn one of Ford's own precious journals into another of Bill's puppets.
Once he'd retrieved all the spinal cords, he poured a little water at a time from the other bowl, mashing the brains and cords and mixing them into a thinner and thinner slurry. He had to make enough of this stuff to let him spread it across every page in Journal 4, but he wasn't sure how much he could dilute the neurons before there wouldn't be enough per page to let Bill control them. Usually he could just check by slipping right into the neurons and seeing if he had enough there to work with, but that wasn't exactly an option right now.
There'd be more brains later. For now, he'd just do what he could.
As he retrieved Journal 4 from its hiding spot, he mused to himself that things really were starting to turn around. A month ago, if he'd tried to drive Ford out of the room by doing something as simple as taking a layer of fabric off his torso, he had no doubt that Ford not only would have refused to leave, but might even have found some way to punish Bill for daring to try to weaponize his own body and the humans' taboos around it. But no—he'd immediately backed out of the room, and hadn't even tried to spout any tedious nonsense about not being able to trust Bill with as basic a privilege as privacy in his own room. Bill hadn't expected Ford not to argue.
Good news: it meant that the Pines were starting to subconsciously treat him like a person instead of like an animal, if they were now including him in their nudity taboo.
Bad news: it meant they were seeing him as human.
Well—take any silver linings you can find and ignore the clouds. The more they saw him as a human, the less they'd try to prevent him from escaping his human body.
Bill popped another fish eye in his mouth, glanced toward the future to make sure nobody would come by for a while, and started painting brains onto Journal 4's pages.
####
Thanks for reading, looking forward to hearing y'all's comments! Next chapter is the start of the arc y'all have been waiting for since like April last year: Bill Cipher seduces a government agent.
#bill cipher#human bill cipher#grunkle ford#ford pines#gravity falls#gravity falls fic#gravity falls fanart#fanart#my art#my writing#bill goldilocks cipher
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We won³
Summary: The war is won, yet you lost too much. And well – how much can you still win?
Note: And here we go, part 3! Since I have all of it already finished, might as well make it a daily update. And THANKS a lot for every like, comment and message! I see you and I am THANKFUL. If you have more ideas, for stories or anything, hit em into my little box on my profile. I also have a Silco Story rotting on my phone since season 1, but idk if anyone would be up for that.
The rebuilding continued, and life finally found a rhythm that felt normal—or at least as close to normal as things could get. Ekko worked tirelessly with the Firelights, but the urgency of survival had faded into the background. With it, so had the moments he used to share with you.
At first, he didn’t notice the shift. You still checked in occasionally, bringing him food or teasing him about overworking. But those visits became less frequent, your easy laughter and steady presence replaced by quick smiles and polite excuses.
One evening, he sat alone in the Firelight base, absently tinkering with a small device. His thoughts drifted to you—how you used to be there, sitting across from him, filling the quiet with your chatter or just the comfort of your presence. The realization hit him suddenly: you weren’t around as much anymore.
And it scared him.
Ekko spent the next day looking for you, his mind racing with possibilities. Had something happened to you? Were you hurt? Or worse, were you pulling away because he’d taken you for granted?
When he couldn’t find you, he turned to Vi.
“Have you seen Y/N?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
Vi raised an eyebrow, leaning casually against the wall. “Yeah, they’re out.”
“Out where?”
“On a date.”
Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. A date? He blinked, stunned. “A date?” he echoed, his voice betraying his surprise.
Vi smirked at his reaction, though her tone softened. “What, you didn’t know? They’ve been trying to move on for a while now. Guess it’s working.”
Ekko stared at her, the weight of her words sinking in. He’d known—on some level—that you’d cared about him. He wasn’t blind to the way you’d looked at him, the way you were always there when he needed you. But he’d never let himself think too hard about it, too focused on the mission, too afraid of what it might mean.
Now, the thought of you moving on left him feeling... hollow.
Vi clapped a hand on his shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Don’t screw this up, Ekko,” she said, her voice firm but not unkind. “If you don’t want to lose them, you better figure out what you actually feel.”
He nodded absently, her words ringing in his ears. For the first time, Ekko realized what he might lose if he let you drift away completely—and he wasn’t sure he could handle that.
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A Cinderella Story || Anthony Bridgerton
-PART TWO-
Summary: Have courage, and be kind. Words that you tried to live by ever since the passing of your parents. Though your step-mother and step-sisters did everything in their power to hide you and your status away from the rest of the Ton, you never expected to catch the eye of Viscount Anthony Bridgerton himself.
Authors Note: This is my first Bridgerton series! I had an absolute ball writing this, and I hope you enjoy it! There is a tag list open if anyone wishes to be kept updated for future parts. I would also like to apologise for the previous tag list not working! It has been fixed now! Gif by @fifty5hades
|PART ONE|
The horses had been restless ever since you had arrived in town. Lady Worthington, Elizabeth and Mary had been traversing between multiple shops for hours now, the three of them making multiple trips back to stuff every inch of the carriage full of boxes and bags that contained every expensive item of clothing imaginable.
The horses flinched every time the carriage doors slammed closed, their heads lifting upward as they were startled by the harsh sound. But after a few gentle pats and sweetly whispered words, the two black geldings calmed down and went back to their idling. You released a deep sigh, gently ruffling the horses’ mane as you people watched. Lords and Lady’s strolled by, some of them sneering at your dirty and slightly big dress, but you didn’t mind. You never had minded.
Sure, these clothes weren’t kept in line with their usual standard upkeep, but it was all that you had. Clothes were better than none at all. You had been so caught up tending to the horses, that you hadn’t noticed the figure creeping up behind you along the cobblestones. You jumped as the culprit tickled your sides, releasing a loud shriek as you spun around to meet the face of a young girl you knew all too well.
“Oh god, Eloise! Don’t do that!” You cried, the young Bridgerton cackling at your fright. She smiled, lightly punching your shoulder as she cried “Oh come on, this is the first time I have seen you in weeks! Does that wicked woman lock you up in a tower or something?”
“She might as well…” You replied sharply, gripping the harness of the horse closest to you “I haven’t seen the sun in days.”
“Don’t you joke about that, you know I will actually have my brothers come and save you from that hell” Eloise teased, pointing her finger at you with a stern expression. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as a small yet grateful smile graced your lips.
Eloise Bridgerton, the fifth eldest in the Bridgerton family, had figured out who you were the first moment she had met you. She was smart and witty, and had instantly put two and two together, and had no problem reminding you whenever she ran into you on the street.
The daughter of one of the most prominent Lords on the ton, suddenly vanishes after her father’s unfortunate and sudden death, running away due to the grief and sadness at the loss of her parents. Then not two days later, a new maid is hired. The ton wasn’t the biggest fan of the Worthington family, according to Eloise. The horror stories she had heard from Daphne and her brothers were more or less disturbing to say the least. She had never met your stepsisters, and prayed that she never would, but of course with the latest season coming up, that might be a little hard.
You turned to face Eloise fully, leaning back slightly as the horse’s head chased after your attention, obscuring your view slightly. “And just what are you doing in town? I thought you would have been at home preparing for Lady Danbury’s ball this evening?”
Eloise groaned loudly, slumping against the side of the carriage with a loud thump. You laughed softly at her behaviour, watching as she rolled her eyes and turned her gaze skyward. “Though I so wish that I could stay at home and read the night away, my mother has made it clear that I am to find something nice to wear for this evening. I am being chaperoned by my brother-“
“Oh?” You asked teasingly, chuckling at the glare that formed on her face “and which brother do you have the pleasure of accompanying you tonight?”
“Oh, you are so funny…” Eloise grumbled, crossing her arms over her front with a huff “…I am being chaperoned right now! ‘So that I may not run away’, according to Anthony.”
Your laughter echoed throughout the street, as Eloise rushed forward and begged you to keep quiet. You held your stomach and wiped a stray tear from your eye, releasing the horse’s harness as you did so. “Oh Eloise, I will say I do not envy you-“
“Oh but I envy you! But remember you used to be a part of this life”
“The only ball I went to was when I was a child, and even then, I don’t remember that much of it”.
Eloise scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. “To be blessed with such fortune as you have, though I suppose being related to Lady Worthington can be accustomed to being related to a toad-“
“Shhhhhhh!” You hushed, pressing a finger to your lips as Eloise smirked “Don’t say such things out loud! They could be back any minute-“
“Oh, I don’t care much. That woman is despicable-“
You watched her eyes widen, her words dying out as a small squeak replaced her sentence. Focused on the space behind you, you turned quickly and froze, suddenly feeling rather small and very aware of your current dress.
Anthony Bridgerton, the Viscount himself stood before you. He stood tall, hands clasped together behind his back as his deep brown eyes flickered between the two of you. You suddenly felt self-conscious the longer he stared at you, but you were the first to look away as you bowed your head, and once again returned to tending the horses.
“Must you always be difficult, dear sister” The Viscount spoke sarcastically, a small huff escaping him as he clenched his jaw in annoyance. You heard Eloise groan, “Must you always insist on stopping and chatting with every Lord you see? Surely it gets rather tiring”.
“It is polite, Eloise…” he spoke through gritted teeth “need I remind you that your prospects this season rely on me helping you to find a suitable husband-“
“Ah yes, because Daphne’s season went so unbelievably well. Tell me dear brother, how was it that Lord Berbrooke became our dear sister’s only suitor for some time, hm? Who, pray tell, was responsible for that match, until our lovely Daphne married the Duke of Hastings?”
The scowl that formed on the Viscount’s face caused an unpleasant shiver to run down your spine, but you couldn’t help but chuckle softly as Eloise stuck out her tongue in retaliation to her brother’s disapproving look.
You turned your gaze upward and met the Viscount’s eyes. He was looking you over, his scowl turning into a gentle smile as he sighed heavily. “You’ll have to forgive my sister, unfortunately she seems to forget her manners when in public” he spoke informatively, sneering at Eloise as she rolled her eyes and mumbled under her breath.
You shrugged your shoulders, “There’s nothing to forgive, my Lord. I am well acquainted with your sister’s antics I’m afraid-“
“Don’t you dare take his side Y/n!” Eloise screamed, stomping her foot like and annoyed child. You laughed a reply, noticing the man beside you chuckling alongside you “We both know you’re not the biggest fan of society Eloise, I am simply stating fact-“
“I never thought you would betray me like this…how could you” She spoke softly, clutching her chest in mock-hurt as she dramatically slid down the side of the carriage, coming to rest on the step below the door. You heard the Viscount laugh, “Perhaps Miss Y/n here as a point. You will have to be on your best behaviour tonight, so I suggest that perhaps you should start practicing your etiquette before then-“
“You are both the worst” Eloise grumbled, standing up from the carriage step and slowly walking towards the store front before her. “If anyone needs me, I will be inside. The two of you can gossip about me at your own leisure while I suffer numerous dress-fittings inside” She whined, opening the door and disappearing inside.
You once again turned your attention back to the Viscount, looking up at him shyly as you fiddled with your hands in front of you. “Your sister does mean well, you know. Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but I am lucky to have a friend like her, especially at my status.”
He smiled at your words, his eyes meeting yours and softening on your form. You felt nervous under his gaze, with how he was looking at you with such interest. No Lord had ever looked at you like this, nor even recognised your presence. It was nice.
“I know she has the best intentions, yet it is the way that she goes about them that sometimes hinders her reputation” He replied, sighing heavily as he watched you intently for your reply. You shrugged “Well, she is a part of one of the most famous and revered families on the ton, she is constantly under the public’s watchful eye. What is the harm of having some freedoms here and there?”.
Your question was innocent enough, but you noticed the Viscount’s brow furrow as he thought on your words. His gaze fell to the cobblestones in contemplation, before returning to your figure with a mischievous smile. “You certainly know a lot of the ton. Tell me, how do you know so much?”.
Your eyes widened and a small blush crept onto your cheeks as you stuttered, “W-Well, Lady Worthington and her daughters discuss these sorts of matters quite openly-“
“Wait, Lady Worthington?” he asked, his eyes suddenly wide with what you could only assume was fear. You eyed the Viscount suspiciously, tilting your head to the side as you spoke. “Yes?...What of them?”
“Oh no, nothing. It has only now just dawned on me that you are the same Y/n that Colin mentioned when he returned from the Worthington household after calling on Miss Elizabeth, and the same Y/n that Eloise calls a friend. I feel rather stupid for not realising it until now.”
A smile formed on your lips as you dismissed his revelation, “Well, I’m not the most memorable person around, I am merely a maid-“
“A maid who has the ear of my sister…and now mine I suppose.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, your cheeks once again flushing a bright red as you turned to face him. “You’re…you’re not ashamed to be speaking so openly with me?” you asked him softly, your eyes wide with shock as you waited anxiously for his reply.
The Viscount shook his head, lightly lifting his shoulders as he hummed. “Should I be? Anyone who works for Lady Worthington has my sympathies.”
Perhaps he would be ashamed, if he knew who you really were.
You were left speechless, unsure of how to reply to his words as your mouth fell open and closed. Before you could think of a reply, the store door burst open to reveal Eloise, who now looked incredibly pale and distraught. Both you and the Viscount shared a look of confusion.
“Are you alright Eloise?” You asked cautiously. She looked between you and her brother, breathing deeply in a panic.
“My dear brother, if you wish to keep your marriage prospects hidden until the ball tonight…I suggest we run” Eloise replied breathlessly, rushing over to her brother and taking his arm in hers.
“What are you talking about-“
“Oh for the love of god, Lady Worthington and her daughters are inside! We should run, now!”
Your eyes met Eloise’s, and then those of her brother who were just as wide, perhaps even more terrified. Without thinking, your shoved both Eloise and the Viscount down the street, laughing as you did so. “Go! Don’t become trapped as I have!”
The Viscount’s laughter caused your heart to soar, as he waved a quick goodbye while Eloise dragged him away and around the corner, right on time as Lady Worthington, Mary and Elizabeth stormed out of the store in a huff. You returned to stand by the horses, trying desperately to contain your laughter as the three of them stumbled towards the carriage, boxes in hand, and struggling to squeeze into the already overstuffed carriage.
“I suppose you found everything you were after, my lady?” You replied quickly, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from chuckling, “should we perhaps return home?”
Lady Worthington’s icy gaze settled on your form, causing a shiver to run down your spine. “Did I tell you to speak? I think not. Just go, we have a lot to do before the ball.”
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The Younger Kind Part 55 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley can't get enough of the adrenaline rush that is accompanying his special mission, but he has reached the point where the excitement doesn't outweigh his desire to return home. Every day feels the same for you, until one of them starts to feel much worse.
Warnings: mentions of blood, pregnancy topics, potential pregnancy complications, swearing, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4300 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
Every day was the same now. Every morning started out with a hopeful feeling in your chest. Your engagement ring was still noticeable on your finger, although you figured that would fade with time as it became a permanent fixture. At first, you woke up to the delicious feeling of being pregnant and engaged to Bradley, but when you rolled over to reach for him, the rest of the bed was cold. The covers were untouched. His pillow was still in the exact same place you left it when you made the bed yesterday.
Tears stung at your eyes. You knew exactly how many days he had been gone, because the updated number was practically all you could think about. The days had become a week. Then two. And now that hopeful feeling was starting to vanish only to be replaced by dread almost immediately after you cracked your eyes open.
You whispered, "I miss you," and climbed out of bed without even looking at the vacant side now. You started to dress in your scrubs without a smile on your face, and then you went into the bathroom which was completely silent. You thought that if you just had an inkling, the barest idea of when Bradley might be returning, you'd feel much better, but you had no clue.
You and Noah had only had one brief conversation with him over the phone. The connection had been pretty bad, and you knew someone was sitting right there with him monitoring every single word. He'd told you that much before his personal phone had been taken away from him the day he arrived. You had to pause as you put toothpaste on your toothbrush, because the tears were going to start if you didn't get yourself under control.
Bradley had hung up a few post-it notes around the house for you and Noah to find. Most of them were reminders of how much he loved you, but the one on the bathroom mirror took your breath away every time you saw it. It said April 25th with a heart around it. And above that'd, he'd drawn a crown. The fact that you had no idea how much of your pregnancy he was going to miss threw you off every single time. You ran your fingers over the note, but you didn't move it.
"Mommy?" Noah called out, and you heard him jump down from his bed. It was so obvious how much he missed his dad; he was extra clingy with you right now, even shedding a few tears now when you tried to drop him off before you went to work each day.
"I'm in the bathroom," you called out as best you could with your toothbrush still in your mouth. You opened the door so he could come in with you, and he immediately wrapped his arms around your thigh.
"Is it daycare today?"
You spit out the toothpaste and rinsed your mouth. "Yes, Sweet Noah. You have daycare today."
"I want to go to the park with you and Daddy."
That sounded so perfect, you wanted to scream. "As soon as Daddy comes home, we can all spend a whole day at the park. But not today." You didn't even want to tell him that you had to work an extra hour and a half and as a result would be picking him up later than usual. You agreed to cover some extra shifts all week long even though you were tired enough that you'd been passing out in bed right after Noah went to sleep each night.
When he sniffed and looked up at you with watery eyes, you could barely handle it. Bradley had been gone for less than three weeks, but you were already getting a little desperate. You knew you would feel like a failure if you reached out for help at this point, even though Natasha and Penny had both been texting with you to check in. Bradley even had Tracy emailing you in case you needed anything, and you couldn't decide whether you had to make more friends to get him off your back or simply be appreciative that he cared enough to set things up.
"I know," you whispered to Noah, running your fingers through his soft curls. "But we can make ants on logs later. And we can take Skittles for a nice walk." When you said her name, the pup appeared in the bathroom doorway, her brown eyes also a little sad without her favorite person at home.
"I'm hungry," Noah murmured against your scrub pants. You bent to scoop him up into your arms and carried him to the kitchen where you got breakfast ready for everyone. It was going to be a long day for you, and you'd been so wrapped up in your feelings, you almost forgot you were going to have to see Casey.
You groaned at the thought of her, and you immediately lost your appetite and scraped your eggs into the dish on the floor for Skittles to enjoy. After you packed yourself a lunch and got Noah ready, you realized you were kind of running late. Everything felt ten times harder when you had to do it all yourself.
"I don't know how Bradley managed," you whispered as you zipped down the block in your car. A soft smile played at your lips as you thought back to how adorably hopeless he had been when you first met him. He hadn't eaten a good meal in probably months before you started babysitting Noah for him. At least he could cook a little bit now, even if he still couldn't figure out how to use his phone.
When you took Noah inside his daycare, Casey's eyes were immediately glued to your ring as it shone in the sunlight. She slid the clipboard to you and watched you sign Noah in while you held his hand. Then you knelt down and kissed his cheek and whispered, "I'll pick you up later. I love you."
He smiled, and then you let Casey walk him inside. You stood there long enough to make sure he started to hang up his bag like you always did, and when she walked back out into the lobby, she was smirking. "Did Bradley leave you? He hasn't been here in weeks."
You rolled your eyes as you said, "He's deployed. We've been over this before."
She held up her hands in mock surrender. "I'm just saying, it kind of looks like he left you and Noah in the dust."
"In what world would that man leave Noah?" you practically shouted.
"That's true," she replied with a smile. "Bradley would never leave his adorable son, but I could see him ditching you and your make believe baby."
You rubbed your temples and took your phone out of your pocket to check the time. You'd barely make it to work before the first patient if you didn't leave right now, but you couldn't help yourself. "I'm done, Casey. I've had enough. Which of the owners is here today? Because I'm not going to listen to you talk to me like this for one more minute."
Her face went ghostly white and she muttered something that you couldn't quite make out. "Speak up," you snapped. "Or apologize to me and don't bother talking to me again unless it's completely necessary."
"Sorry."
"Great," you told her loudly. "Have a great day, and when I pick Noah up later, just keep your mouth shut."
You took in the stupid looking expression on her face before you turned to leave, storming out the door and across the parking lot to your car.
---------------------------
It didn't take Bradley long to get used to the sleek controls and seductive design of the sixth-generation fighter jet that everyone appropriately referred to as Shadowhawk. By the second morning on base in Yokosuka, Admiral Palmer was singing Bradley's praises. He showed up early and did as he was told, hoping to spend as much time in the air as he could each day.
It was an adrenaline rush every single time. He was going substantially faster than he ever did in a Super Hornet, and all of his readouts were being recorded. He had to pass a quick physical and stress test every morning before he was allowed to fly, and then he was hooked up to monitoring equipment and let loose. He and Shadowhawk were flying the same loop far out over the pacific ocean at insanely high altitudes, and each time he fell a little bit more in love with being in the air. He could maneuver through rolls and dive into an attack formation faster than he could even imagine.
When he was flying, it was easy enough to focus on the task at hand. He knew if he wasn't one hundred percent focused, it would be dangerous. He might not snuff out the launched missile in time with his flares or his guns. He might lose sight of his targets. But as soon as he had any sort of mental reprieve, he was thinking about you and Noah and Skittles and his bungalow tucked away on a side street in Coronado.
"Fuck," he muttered as he unloaded from Shadowhawk one day just as the sun was setting. He was drenched in sweat and exhausted, and all he could think about was taking a shower with you before dragging himself off to his king size bed that always smelled like wildflowers and falling asleep in your arms. He let the peripheral staff detach all of the cables and heart monitor from his flight suit before he found an officer who spoke English. "Is there time for me to make a phone call tonight?" he asked.
It was about three o'clock in the morning in California, and he knew he wouldn't be able to talk to Noah, but he was dying to hear your voice. He knew he'd wake you up, but the ache was so strong, he absolutely needed to if he could. He'd been allowed to make exactly one call so far, and that was already more than two weeks ago.
All he got in response to his question was a quick shake of his head. "Tomorrow," she responded. That's what they told him every day. The lack of communication felt like a prison sentence at times, but there wasn't much he could do but accept it. All of the data they were collecting as well as Shadowhawk itself were considered proprietary and top secret. He practically had to sign his life away every day before he was allowed to touch the thing.
"Tomorrow," he repeated. "But will it actually be tomorrow? Or does that mean a week from now?"
"Tomorrow," she said more firmly, and he thanked her quietly before heading up to the tower to debrief with the admirals. There wasn't much else he could do.
The next day was a lot more of the same, and the routine was starting to grate on his nerves now. The aircraft still felt incredible, beyond his wildest dreams. He was still happy to be here, but at the same time, he was ready to go home now. They weren't giving him any updates on the progress of this assignment or when it might end, so he just decided to approach Admiral Palmer directly.
"Sir, I'd really appreciate a ten minute phone call, if that can be arranged." Once again, it was the middle of the night for you, but Bradley needed it.
The older man eyed him closely and cleared his throat. "It's a liability, Lieutenant. I'm sure you can understand that."
Bradley felt his fingers flex into fists at his sides. "Sir, someone would be monitoring me the entire time. And I'm just asking to talk to my fiancée and my son. That's it. Any time of any day."
The answer of, "There's no guarantee," did not sit well with Bradley. He had to bite his lip until he was tasting blood to keep himself from talking out of order, but he was sure the other man could read the frustration on his face and in his posture. "Maybe a very brief call, but we could be wrapping up our preliminary testing on Shadowhawk any day now. Either way, I'm sure you'll be able to finish out this temporary assignment like a professional."
Bradley swallowed down every retort that came to his mind, saluted Admiral Palmer, and left for his tiny room in the barracks. But another week passed, and Bradley knew there was no end in sight. And perhaps no phone call either.
-------------------------
"Is this normal though?" you asked Natasha over the phone one night after Noah was in bed. You'd thought about taking a long bath, but you were so tired from working late almost every day, you could barely hold yourself up. You were already in bed at 8:45 with your phone pressed to your ear. "I haven't heard from Bradley in almost a month."
The words made a lump form in your throat. It was actually twenty-two and a half days since he'd called. You needed to hear his voice. Noah was asking for him nonstop, and he had missed your most recent checkup with your obstetrician. The whole thing had been such a blur during your lunch break without him there, and you wanted to show him the new ultrasounds.
"Well, I don't think this assignment is exactly normal, you know?" she replied. "On a regular deployment, you'd be able to talk to him almost weekly. But this is something else altogether."
You made a soft sound. There had to be a way to make the time pass faster. If you didn't have to get Noah by six o'clock every day, you would try to pick up more hours at work. Maybe this weekend you could start cleaning up the extra bedroom that you and Bradley decided would become the nursery. You already promised Noah that you'd take him shopping for a Halloween costume, so at least that would entertain him for a little while.
"Thanks, Natasha," you murmured to Bradley's best friend.
"Hey, if you need a little break this weekend, I'd be more than happy to come over and play with Noah on Saturday or Sunday," she said, and you sighed in relief.
"That actually sounds fantastic. I'll call you."
You ended the call a minute later, curling up in a ball of exhaustion as you tried to imagine where Bradley was and what he was doing. You were tired now as you tried to do the math to determine what time it was in Japan. Was he sixteen hours ahead of you? Something like that? You yawned and fell asleep with your phone on the pillow next to your head.
Then you heard your ringtone blaring in your ear, and you almost fell out of the bed as you realized your phone was so close to you. RESTRICTED CALLER. "Oh my god," you gasped, trying to answer the call while you saw that your battery was down to four percent because you never plugged it in. "Bradley?!"
"Princess."
"Bradley!" You climbed out of bed, your body immediately shivering as you were exposed to the cool air. Your nerves were frayed as you plugged your phone in and asked, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Baby. I'm so sorry I woke you up."
"It's okay!" you said, your voice sounding more like a sob as you sat on the floor. "I've been so worried about you."
His voice was a deep, familiar rumble as he said, "I've got five minutes. Tell me everything."
"We miss you, Daddy," you said, rubbing your hand low on your belly which was starting to feel a little tender as you got closer to thirteen weeks along. "Noah asks for you all the time. The baby looked good at the last appointment. But your best friend, Skittles, is barely holding it together."
"I missed your appointment," he said, his voice strained with emotion. "I should have been there."
"It's okay," you whispered. "We're doing okay." But you weren't. You and Noah thrived when you had his attention. You felt loved when he was home to hold you and whisper plans about the future until you fell asleep each night. "I just thought you'd be able to call more often."
"Me too," he said in a tone that sounded both annoyed and resigned.
"Do you know when you'll be home?" you asked in as hopeful a voice as you could manage.
"Soon, Princess. Soon. Now tell me everything about your appointment."
You gave him more details as you shifted around on the floor, and you told him that Noah painted a picture for him. Then you heard someone on his end of the call telling him that it was time to go, and you wanted to scream that it wasn't enough. But instead you let the tears fall down your cheeks, thankful that you at least knew he was safe.
"I love you, Bradley."
"I love you too, Princess. I'll be home before you know it."
You dried your tears and climbed back into bed, and even though you weren't able to fall asleep again, you felt so much better. Your imagination drifted to thoughts of the baby in the nursery, all of you curled up on the floor for story time together. You would start getting the room ready this weekend.
On Saturday, you took Noah to the Halloween warehouse store that seemed to pop up overnight. "You have to hold my hand," you reminded him as he reached for every single display in the crowded store. There were so many aisles, this would probably take up your entire morning with him. He was keeping a running list of options that he liked for trick-or-treating, and you had to keep reminding yourself not to check the price tags. You'd put whatever he wanted on your princess credit card and call it a day.
"Mommy, let's all be dinosaurs," he said, pointing to a costume in his size.
You glanced around the area and said, "They don't have any in my size. Can we pick something else?"
"I want you and Daddy to dress up, too," he whined, and you didn't want to have to tell him that you weren't sure if Bradley would be home in the next week and a half to accommodate that wish.
"Well, I will definitely dress up with you, okay? Let's pick something out where you and I can match."
But he wasn't going to be deterred. He was demanding that all three of you match along with Skittles. You walked around the entire store twice before you found an option that he agreed upon, and you were smiling as you gathered the costumes in all of the necessary sizes. "This is perfect, Sweet Noah," you said as you looked at the costume for Bradley and laughed. You just hoped he would be back in time to wear it. If not, maybe you could ask Maverick.
The sky was starting to look overcast, so you took Noah home for lunch and didn't feel too bad about keeping him inside for the afternoon, especially when it started raining. You set him up with his array of coloring books at the kitchen table and then went to investigate the extra bedroom. Nobody ever slept in there, so it was a bit dusty. There was basically no furniture besides the bed and an old desk, but it was cozy and perfect for what you had planned.
Your muscles were sore from standing at work, and you were so tired, but you started moving the bed anyway. You'd have to tell Dr. Kelly and the others that you were pregnant soon. It was time now, but you kept putting it off, enjoying the secret that only you and Bradley really knew about. Plus it still got under your skin a little bit when you considered that other people would have a knee jerk reaction to the timeframe of when you got engaged compared to when you got pregnant.
"It's none of their business," you whispered to yourself as you walked to the kitchen to check on Noah every few minutes. Then you went back to the bedroom and cleaned, moved things around and took measurements. "How big are cribs, anyway?" you mused before looking up some dimensions online. "Pretty big."
It took some creativity, but you thought you'd finally sorted out where everything should go. Then you moved Bradley's random junk from the closet to the attic, wiping the sweat from your face with each trip. You kicked your way through the boxes where you'd found the USB drive with the video he made with Meredith. At first you grimaced and thought you might cry, but then you remembered the way he had smashed the stupid thing to bits in the backyard. You wanted him to come home. You needed him to.
"Mommy?" Noah called out, luring you back into the kitchen. You were a mess, and when you noticed how much he was yawning, you silently rejoiced.
"It looks like you could use a nap," you said as you kissed the curls on top of his head. He scrambled up into your arms and hugged you, such a tiny reminder of his dad, and you carried him off to his room. After a few stories, he was asleep as the rain picked up a little bit, and you knew this would be the perfect time to take a shower.
You moved Skittles' bed into Noah's room temporarily, and coaxed her in with a treat. "Keep him company in case he wakes up," you whispered, and she walked around in a circle on the plush cushion before settling in. Her crooked, purple bow made you smile. Everything in this house made you smile and think about Bradley. You knew he'd have even more ideas about a theme for the nursery, but you started to scroll through some inspiration online as the shower warmed up for you.
The water ended up feeling better than you anticipated. Your shoulders were sore. Your hips were sore. Every part of your body was aching. It seemed it didn't matter how much you were sleeping, you were still exhausted all day long. Maybe Dr. Kelly would reduce your hours and give you a break. You thought about sneaking home one afternoon a week to take a long nap before going back out to pick Noah up. Then you thought about how Casey hadn't said a single word to you since you told her you were going to her boss. Then you smiled.
You were squeaky clean when you got dressed again in some old sweats and headed to the kitchen. Your stomach was growling, and you desperately wanted some coffee. "One cup is okay," you whispered, turning on Bradley's fancy machine while you made yourself a snack. You'd been meticulous about how much caffeine you were drinking, and Bradley helped by bringing home only decaf from the coffee shop. You downed the cup, and it was hot and delicious, and almost immediately you had to pee again.
Your doctor told you that was normal as the baby grew and started to stretch things out. You passed Noah's bedroom door where both he and Skittles were still sound asleep as the rain splattered against his window, and then you went to the bathroom. When you wiped, the toilet paper caught your eye, and your hand started to shake. Pink. Blood. Just a little bit, but there was blood.
"Oh no," you gasped, a dizzy spell overtaking your body. You'd read about this in your textbooks, and you knew it could happen, but you'd blocked it out of your mind when it came to yourself right now. You didn't want to be an example. You had to grip the toilet seat with one hand to keep steady as you wiped yourself again. There was more blood, a little bit less pink and more red this time.
Your own breathing was too loud. It was echoing through your mind and through the bathroom, and you wanted to throw up. You eased yourself onto the floor and started to panic. The baby. What if something was happening to the baby? "No," you whispered, trying to ground yourself. Using the edge of the tub, you pulled yourself slowly to your feet, your head spinning more with every inch you moved. "No," you said louder.
When you were standing on your own, you had yourself almost convinced you'd imagined it. You didn't feel bad. You were just a little sore. There couldn't be anything wrong. You reached for another piece of toilet paper and wiped, but the result was the same.
Where was your phone? Who were you supposed to call? You walked around in circles around the house while your heart thudded a sickening rhythm in your chest. You paused, unable to locate your phone and convinced you were going to throw up. After you backtracked to the extra bedroom, you found it and unlocked it.
Natasha's name was right there in your recent calls, and you tapped on it before you could even fathom what you were going to tell her.
"Hi," she said brightly when she eventually answered. "Want me to come over and play with Noah so you can take a break for a little bit?"
"Please," you gasped. "Please come over. Right now."
She must have sensed something in your voice, because hers turned serious as she assured you she was on her way. While you waited for her, you wiped yourself again and again before you made yourself wait in the living room instead of the bathroom. When she walked inside with dripping wet hair and concern on her face, you said, "Noah is still napping. I need to take myself to the emergency room."
----------------------------
Get to the hospital, Princess. This kind of scenario is very real and has happened to me. I will tread as carefully as I can. Please don't scream at me. We will hear from a doctor in the next chapter. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 56
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