#aiming maybe to work on it this month and start rolling out by next month. but nobody hold me to that lmao

[studioeisa]

hi hi! im so excited for ur kingsmen series it sounds so cool!!! (never seen the series before tho lol) just a qq, how come it says that chan is deceased in the image of all the kingsmen? is this something to be revealed in the series or mayhaps would you be able to tell us now 👀👀👀👀 no stress to write for the series tho, take care of yourself ❤️

ahhh hello, lovely! thank you so much for the love on manners maketh man, it's my babyyy (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ chan (agent poktanju) was killed during service, and the people i'll be writing about— minghao, jihoon, soonyoung, and vernon— are all impacted by his death. the details of how will come out in the each fic, which i'm slowly but surely working through 🥲 i really appreciate this ask, though, and i hope the series will live up to your expectations! <3

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 36 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley needed a day off with his wife, but you needed it more. Taking care of his family would come first from now on, and he had no problem proving that to you. As your plan begins to take shape, one of your allies doubles down.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, pregnancy, oral smut, lactation kink

Length: 4400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Cat gave you an earful over the phone, and you let her. As soon as you told her you wanted to move up the unveiling of the project she'd been leading for months, she panicked.

"I have it scheduled for December," she snapped. "Six weeks from now. It's not perfect yet, and you know how much I like perfection."

When you said, "It doesn't need to be perfect, it just needs to work," you heard a muffled scream.

"I'm going to break out in hives. I need to lie down," she hissed. "You're talking about something that affects the entire F/A-18 fleet."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm not talking about the whole Super Hornet fleet yet. I'm talking about testing on a handful of aircrafts. Or maybe just one to start..."

When you went silent, Indigo's eyes danced through your mind along with her pompous voice and irritating strut. 

"Do you have any idea how long I'll have to stay at work? I'll be here overnight finishing this. Overnight. Do you hear me?" Cat asked.

"I'll owe you big time," you replied. "I'll babysit Jer a hundred times. A thousand times."

"I absolutely refuse to mention this to Bickel," Cat whispered, reminding you she was at work while you were in your living room. "You can talk to him about it yourself, but I will not. Because I value my relationship with my commanding officer."

"I'll take care of Bickel. He loves it when we're ahead of schedule," you replied, biting your lip as you realized you would very much need his permission to push your plan forward. And you weren't sure you could get it.

"Why do you want this so much? And are you coming back to work today? What's going on?"

You took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Listen, I'll be there tomorrow, okay? And I'll fill you in then. Just...give me until tomorrow. Please, keep working on your code."

Cat groaned so loudly, you had to pull your phone away from your ear. "Fine." Then the call ended, and you ran for your bedroom with your hand holding your belly.

Bradley was already sound asleep, the dark circle under his eye prominent even as his face was half buried in his pillow. His thick arm was flung across the spot where your body belonged, and you could see his fingers twitching along the bedding like he was searching for you. 

Your heart clenched, and you slipped quietly under the covers next to him. "There you are," he grunted, opening one eye as he pulled you closer. "Did you talk to Cat?"

"Yes," you whispered, letting him pull you close so his chest was pressed snug against your back. His warm hand settled on your belly, and his even breathing filled your ear.

"Baby Girl, I can't stay awake," he murmured, kissing the back of your neck. "I need a little nap, then I'll get up with Rose when she cries," he promised.

"I can get up. I'm not that sleepy," you told him, melting in his arms as his fingers circled your belly button. 

"I love you," he rasped, kissing your ear before his soft snores filled the space. 

Your eyes blinked slowly before closing, and you realized you were exhausted, too. The adrenaline that had filled you when you were in Bradley's office was drained now. Your belly was full from lunch, and Bradley was so warm. Even the baby had settled into a gentle squirming pattern like she knew you needed a break.

Sleep took over. You never heard a sound until you jolted awake alone in the dark bedroom with your breasts aching. You needed to feed Rose for some relief, because it had been hours since she'd eaten, so you slipped out of bed. 

Bradley had her tucked in his arm, reading a story about a goose on the couch while Rose poked his mustache. Every other word was punctuated with his laughter, and Rose erupted into giggles.

"How am I supposed to finish the story when you keep distracting me? Now we'll never know if the silly goose finds his friends, and that's your fault, Nugget."

Rose giggled more, and Bradley tossed the book aside to give her kisses while you watched from the end of the hallway. He was the most perfect father, and you should have never doubted him. You wanted to apologize a million more times, but when his eyes met yours, you simply said, "I love you, Roo."

He was on his feet, Rose held against his chest, and then he was smothering you in kisses, too. You couldn't stop laughing as his rough mustache scratched your cheeks while he held you in place with one big hand on your butt.

When he finally stopped, he took you by the hand and said, "Wait until you see this. You're not going to believe it."

"What?" you asked, but he was already setting Rose down on her play mat. As soon as she was on her belly, she popped up to her knees, crawled two feet, and collapsed back onto her belly. "She's crawling!"

"She's crawling!" Bradley shouted. "I took a video of the first time, so you didn't miss it. This was only the second time, I swear. Unless she's been crawling around in her crib."

"She probably has been," you cooed, easing yourself down onto the floor next to her. She promptly started crying hysterically. "She associates you with fun. I think she only associates me with food," you said, pulling your shirt over your head.

"That's not true," Bradley insisted, staring openly at your breasts which were starting to leak. "You're so much more than a perfect rack."

With an eye roll you said, "I guess I should start thinking about what to make for our dinner while she eats." 

Rose latched on while Bradley kissed the top of your head. "I already took care of it."

"You did?"

"Yeah, I reprised one of your mom's crockpot meals. Chicken soup."

You blinked up at him as he stood. "How? We don't have any groceries. I haven't felt like going shopping."

"Rosie and I took care of it. You needed to sleep, so we went to Costco. Did you know they give you twice the number of free samples if you take the cutest baby in the world?"

"Did you wear her in her carrier on your chest?" you asked as he went into the kitchen.

"Yep."

"That'll do it. Makes you look irresistible." Bradley blushed as he took the lid off the soup, and then the smell of dinner hit your nose. "Oh my god, I'm starving."

He started shifting things around on the counter. "I'll bring you a bowl, and it should be cool enough to eat by the time Rose is done."

You watched him work as your daughter got groggy in your arms. Bradley carried two bowls into the living room along with crackers and lemonade. He had dinner set up for both of you by the time Rose's eyes started to close, and that's when you realized just how late it was.

"I think she's ready for bed," you whispered, handing her to Bradley so you could stand.

"Go eat. I'll burp her and change her diaper," he promised, nodding toward the food. 

As soon as his big hand circled her back, you heard her burp. It always took you twice as long. This was also the first night in weeks Bradley was home at this early, and you felt tears prickle your eyes as he walked around singing to Rose about the silly goose and his friends before vanishing into the nursery. It didn't take him long to return empty handed, and when he did, you were crying on the couch.

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

Bradley missed this so much. He'd only been home for a handful of nights to get Rose ready for bed recently. Right now he was enjoying her fuzzy hair against his lips as he gently set her down on her changing table. He grabbed a fresh diaper and clean pajamas covered in airplanes while she yawned. 

"Are you too tired to finish the story?" he whispered. "You're going to leave me on a silly goose cliffhanger?"

He swore she nodded. She probably did, she was so fucking smart. She could roll over and crawl, and soon she'd be talking and walking around. 

"Okay," he murmured. "We can finish the book tomorrow."

He flicked on the lullaby machine even though she was already falling asleep in her crib and went in search of his wife and his dinner. But he found you sitting on the couch with tears on your cheeks.

He dropped to his knees in front of you. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you whispered, shaking your head. "I'm just happy you're home tonight."

Bradley's face fell as you wiped at your tears, guilt filling his body. "I'm so sorry I fucked up so much," he replied, reaching for your hands. "I just wanted to be on top of everything at work, but I should have been here with you."

"It's okay," you sobbed.

"No. It's not. None of this is fair to you, and I'm not even talking about Indigo right now. You need me helping more at home, and I haven't been. I took this new position so I could be here more and be deployed less, but I fucked it up. I'm thinking about asking Mav to pull me."

"No," you gasped, wiggling off the couch and onto his lap. "You can't, Bradley. You're such a good teacher."

He buried his face in your neck and inhaled as he wrapped his arms around you. "I'm a joke. Nobody's taking me seriously. I have a student who convinced herself she could take advantage of me."

You jerked his chin up so he was looking at you. "That's not even true. She admitted she pulled the same shit in the past, and of course she wanted you, too. You're so sexy. But that's her fucking problem at the end of the day, not yours. And I won't let her make it ours."

Bradley closed his eyes as you kissed his nose and his cheeks. "I just want you to be happy," he whispered. "I'll do whatever I can to make my family happy."

When you said, "You already reported her, right?" he nodded. "That makes me happy. And if you come home on time more often, that will make me happy, too."

"What about a vacation?" he asked softly, letting his hand rest on your belly. "Just the four of us? We could go away for our anniversary. Today was so nice, I think we need some more time off together."

You hummed and nodded. "Let me make sure I don't piss Bickel off tomorrow before I agree to that. I don't want to request time off with my tail between my legs."

Bradley raised one eyebrow. "I'm scared to know what you need to talk about that could make him upset."

"The less you know, the better."

Your words didn't calm his nerves, but your kisses did. So did the soup which was the perfect temperature to eat. You even watched an episode of Real Housewives of New Jersey with him before he started cleaning up.

"I can do that," you told him. "I slept all afternoon."

He turned you toward the bedroom and swatted at your butt. "You and Nugget number two were tired. Go relax in bed and start looking at the Halloween costumes I saved in my Amazon cart for Rose." 

Bradley handed you his phone and sent you on your way. He let Tramp outside and loaded the dishwasher before wiping down the counter and packing up the rest of the dinner. When he finally walked into the bedroom, you were topless and giggling.

"We have to get her this costume!" you insisted, holding up his phone, showing him the one that was actually his top choice as well.

"That was my favorite," he grunted, watching your tits bounce as you sat up.

"It's too perfect. I'll order it right now."

Bradley was distracted as he walked around the room, trying to get ready for bed. He brushed his teeth and got undressed, eyes barely able to look anywhere but at your body. This morning, he woke up in the Bronco on the driveway, because you thought there was a chance he was messing around behind your back. He was just happy to put that behind him. He wasn't about to press his luck as he climbed in bed.

"Here you go," you whispered, handing his phone back. He took it and plugged it in to charge overnight, but your breasts brushed his arm. They were heavy and perfect, your nipples big and pert from all the hormones and breast milk. And now he was fully erect as he tried to lay on his back, reaching to turn the lamp off.

"Are you ready for bed? Or do you feel like staying up a little longer?"

Bradley's gaze snapped to your face as his fingers hovered next to the lamp. "I could stay up a little longer," he rasped, keeping his eyes away from your tits which were pressed together as you leaned closer to him. "If you want."

Bradley had barely touched you in weeks which was evidenced by his throbbing cock. You'd seemed tired and distant, all thanks to Indigo, but he didn't put the pieces together at the time. He thought you were worn out from your pregnancy. Right now, he was horny as hell but afraid for you to know where his mind was as he tried to discreetly adjust himself.

He left the lamp on as you curled up snug against his side. "I saw that you started another notebook for the baby," you said, your fingers skimming along your belly, showing off your perfect body.

Bradley grunted. "Each Nugget gets to read my personalized thoughts on parenthood when they're older."

Your lips found his shoulder, and he shivered. "You're a good dad. I'm sorry I doubted you." Bradley closed his eyes as your fingers traced his chest hair down to his abs. It felt like heaven. He wasn't going to make it.

"Why are you topless?" he gasped, tone accusatory. "You've been sleeping in a sports bra with those pad things in them."

"My nursing pads?" you asked, clearly confused. "So I don't leak at night?"

"Yeah. Those things. Why are your tits all over the place right now?"

You looked taken aback as you pulled your hand away from his body and sat up. Bradley groaned, eyes raking all over you as his cock tented the bedding. "I was going to put a bra on before I fall asleep. It just felt nice to take a break for a few minutes. Is it bothering you? I'll put it on now."

You were pouting, and he was sweating as you started to climb out of bed. "Jesus Christ, Sweetheart. Come back," he begged, wrapping his fingers around your wrist. "You look so fucking hot, I can't focus on anything."

"Oh." Your pout turned into softly parted lips that he needed to kiss. So he did. He sat up, letting the bedding fall to his hips as he smashed his lips to yours. Fuck, you felt too good. And then you blindly nudged his cock with your hand. "Oh!"

You pulled away, wide eyed and staring down. "Yeah," he grunted. "But in my defense, you had your tits all over the place. You still do." Then you wrapped your hand around his erection, and Bradley collapsed against his pillow. "We don't have to mess around tonight," he gasped. "It wasn't my intention at all. I just wanted to spend time together."

Your laughter filled his ears, and colors erupted behind his eyelids as you worked your hand down to his balls. "You really never stopped wanting me?"

"I've wanted you nonstop since the moment I first saw you," he whined, and then your lips wrapped around his cock. Bradley's eyes flew open, watching you give him head, but after a minute of pleasure, he was reaching for you. "I won't last another minute."

You pulled him free with a pop. "So?"

Bradley panted. "So, I want to make you feel good, too."

You smirked and licked him from balls to tip. "It makes me feel good knowing you can't stop looking at my body." He forced his gaze from your nipples to your face. "And it will make me feel good to swallow your cum before letting you suck on my tits."

He was going to pass out, he was sure of it. "Okay," he rasped, in no position to argue with you while you were gagging on his cock. 

He had been correct. After another minute, he was grabbing at the bedding, hanging on for dear life. Your tits were bouncing against his inner thighs, and your belly looked gorgeous. Your face was perfect as you looked up at him with your mouth full. This wasn't what he expected, but he wasn't mad about it. He came, barking out your name as you swallowed every drop, licking him clean.

When you eased yourself onto your back, coaxing him closer to your taut nipples, he moaned. He was in heaven with your fingers in his hair, and when he tasted you, he knew he'd never get enough.

He kept you up for another hour, making sure you felt as good as he did.

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

You couldn't stop smiling the next morning as Bradley kissed your cheek while you tried to put your contacts in. "Can I have a little space, Roo?" you asked sweetly.

"No," he whispered, crowding in closer. "I can't stop touching you."

He'd done plenty of that last night. You came so hard on his mouth and fingers, you thought you were going to wake Rose up. Turns out Bradley had been missing you while you were trying to block him out to protect yourself. But Indigo was toast. You'd see to that. She had Bradley convinced he was terrible at his job, and that just wouldn't do. Neither would the fact that nobody got to have your husband except you.

"If you let me get ready for work, I'll blow you again tonight."

He took an immediate step away, hands up in surrender. "By all means, have as much space as you need, Sweetheart. I'll get Rose up and let her crawl around with Tramp."

After you brushed your teeth, you went to the closet. The maternity tent taunted you from the back corner, but you decided to squeeze into your regular uniform. "You'll have your day soon enough," you whispered. But your mind was already focused on work.

If Cat stayed late enough to finish the code, then just maybe you could pull this off. Indigo could get her punishment through the Navy, but you wanted to give her a little something special yourself. After all, she knew who you were, but she didn't know you overheard her in Bradley's office.

You were smiling as you strutted through the living room and out the front door. Rose was buckled in and ready to go, and Bradley was waiting in the driver's seat of the red Bronco with his aviators on.

"You look hot," he murmured, reaching to buckle your seatbelt for you after you climbed in. His lips brushed yours making you very aware you'd be late for work if the three of you didn't leave now.

"I told you I'd blow you tonight, not now."

Bradley laughed and started the engine. "That's not what I'm after, and you know it."

After he backed out of the driveway, he reached for your hand. "What are you after?"

"I want to have lunch with you in the cafeteria today."

Your smile grew as Bradley's rough fingers tangled with yours. "That sounds nice. Not sure what time I'll be able to get away though."

"Text me. Whenever you're free, I'll make it work."

"Okay," you whispered, turning to check on Rose. "And we'll leave on time to go home?"

"We'll leave on time to go home," Bradley confirmed.

You almost made another comment about the blowjob, but you knew it wasn't about that. He promised to do better, and you were going to as well. Starting with showing Indigo who's boss on your husband's behalf.

An hour later, your knuckles connected with Bickel's office door. "Come in!"

This was not the time for nerves. You needed to sound confident as hell. "Captain Bickel, Sir, can we talk about one of our projects for a minute?"

"Sure, Lieutenant Commander," he replied, shuffling some things on his desk. "Uh, have a seat."

He was kind and patient, and as soon as you got into it, you weren't nervous at all. "How do you feel about testing our code on some grounded Super Hornets ahead of schedule?" Kicking the project off early could actually be beneficial, and you knew it. It was a pretty easy sell. "It could give us a little more time to work out any kinks before the end of the year."

Bickel leaned back in his seat. "I'm not sure Lieutenant Commander Coleman is finished with the preliminaries."

"Oh, she is," you told him with a smile. "She's way ahead of schedule, because she's brilliant."

He laughed and nodded. "We really do have a great team. Hmmm." His brow furrowed, and he looked through his calendar. "I think this could actually work out well. Starting updates ahead of schedule means we could have the fleet back in the air ahead of schedule. Go ahead and move forward with an aircraft or two."

Your heart was racing. It was the moment of truth. This might not work out at all. "Do I need to choose randomly?"

Bickel shook his head. "Choose whichever you want. But if you ground your own husband, that's on you. I will not bail you out of that argument."

Satisfaction filled your insides as Bickel laughed at his own joke, and a giddy grin spread across your face. "I know just where to start, Sir," you promised, saluting him before running back to the lab with both hands on your belly.

Cat glared at you when you sat on the stool next to her. "I am so tired. Literally and figuratively," she mumbled. "Don't come in here and try to talk to me with your peppy BS. I don't want to hear it."

You laughed merrily and slid her computer away from her.

"Hey!" she complained, reaching for it, but you shook your head.

"We can start testing whenever we want," you said, opening the credentials list of each aviator currently at Top Gun associated with an F/A-18. "And we can choose which aircraft to run the program on first."

You scrolled past BRADSHAW, BRADLEY and FITCH, REUBEN and GARCIA, MICKEY as you made your way through the alphabet. When you got to JEFFRIES, BROOKE, you stopped and smiled. "Bingo."

"Who's Lieutenant Jeffries? And why did you go directly her them?" Cat asked as you casually went back to her lines of code to start double checking everything.

"Oh, she's been trying to fuck Bradley for over a month."

"What?" Cat screeched, jumping out of her seat. "What's going on?!"

You waved your hand dismissively. "She's a young pilot training under him, and apparently she likes getting sexy, older officers to sleep with her. Nothing's going on, much to her displeasure."

"Well of course nothing's going on!" Cat spat. "Hasn't she seen the way your husband looks at you like you're a dessert buffet?" You snorted, but she ripped her computer from your hands. "Give me this," she muttered, pounding away on the keys. A few seconds later, you realized what she was doing, but it was too late.

"Cat, don't!" you gasped. "You put 'check for potential incompetence and/or pilot error' in the notes!"

"So what?" she snarled. "I always do that when I ground an aircraft. It adds a layer of safety."

"I didn't even finish checking your new code to verify we can run the program!"

"It doesn't matter," she added, inching her computer further away from you. "My code is flawless. And this bitch can sit on the ground indefinitely, I don't even care. Don't mess with my friends."

You watched as Cat's index finger slammed into the return key.

"Oh my god," you groaned. "We're logged in under your credentials which means you're the one who will have to do a thorough investigation!"

This would add hours and hours of work to Cat's schedule. You knew it. She knew it, too, but she was rolling her shoulders with a satisfied smirk on her face. "I love investigations. I haven't done one since the summer. And as far as I'm concerned, it's better to be safe than sorry." Her smirk melted into a solemn expression. "I take my job very seriously. You know for a fact I'll do everything by the book."

"What about all the extra hours?" you whispered.

"I don't give a shit. You can help Jake can take care of Jer while I work late. I'll go over Jeffries' aircraft with a fine tooth comb."

When you looked at her, you burst into tears. "Thank you."

"You don't have thank me. It's my pleasure to keep the Pacific Fleet safe from all kinds of threats."

Eventually you texted Bradley when you were done checking Cat's perfect work, letting him know you were ready for lunch. The cafeteria was packed, but you found him standing alone at the end of the line.

"There you are," he murmured, collecting you in his arms and kissing you in front of everyone. "I'm so hungry, I thought I was going to have to start without you." He ushered you into line with a tray and began to pile it with food. "I got an email a few minutes ago letting me know that Indigo will be grounded until further notice starting tomorrow. You know anything about that?"

"I already told you, the less you know, the better. Don't forget to grab the hot sauce."

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

I'm afraid Indigo doesn't stand a chance if Cat teams up with BG... I just don't want her anywhere near Bradley. Gonna start wrapping up this series in a few more chapters!

PART 37

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[jenosbliss]

pairing. fem!reader x jisung | genre. fluff | wc. 0.6k | warnings. the reader is short, few cuss words

[8:36 pm]

Late evening supermarket runs weren’t a usual practice for you and your roommate. While showering, she suddenly realized that she had run out of pads and it was that time of the month. After a thorough search, a lone pad miraculously appeared.

Exiting the sanitary aisle, you mused about snacks. “I’ve been craving Cheetos,” you said languidly. “You’ve mentioned that five times this week,” your roommate retorted with an eye roll. “No one knows me better than you, my love,” you teased, blowing her a kiss as you dashed to the snacks.

The excitement was short-lived. Not because they were out of Cheetos stocks but because they had decided to place them on the top most shelf, which was far out of reach.

“Are they for real” with hands on your hips you scoffed. Despite several leaps toward the tantalizing orange bag, it remained just out of grasp. “Y/n, I’ll order them online, or we can check another store. Or let’s get Doritos!” your roommate suggested picking up the said snack which was kept on a lower shelf.

“I will get this Cheetos only.” Settle for less? No way! You weren’t a quitter, no matter how bad a situation was or how tough a challenge was, you won’t give up. People may think of this as stubbornness but you weren’t raised a quitter. If you want something you will get it.

“You can’t get-” before she can complete you cut her off mid sentence, “No. Please find a staff member who can probably help us.” Maybe they have a ladder or something as there’s no way an average height human could reach that!

When she went to find help, not being able to wait for someone you contemplated more creative solutions to get the Cheetos. One idea that came to mind was to throw a shoe at it and knock it down, which was stupid, but desperate times call for drastic measures.

Hence, the left shoe was removed, target was set, and shoe-missile was launched at the enemy territory –the Cheetos packet laughing at you– after careful calculations. There was just a minor setback… the shoe missed the target and went all the way to the next aisle.

“Oww! What the fuck” was followed by quick shuffling and footsteps leading to you. The flight and fight mode kicked in an instant, flight was the best option but you needed your shoe back, therefore you settled for the latter… fight.

A young man, wearing a grey hoodie which covered his forehead along with black hair falling in front of his eyes, looking absolutely breath taking without any effort appeared in your aisle holding your shoe.

“This belongs to you?” He asked swinging the shoe on two of his fingers and was that a smirk?God he was hot. “I’m really sorry… I was trying to get that packet,” you explained, pointing to the Cheetos.

He seemed tall enough to easily retrieve the bag, just a stretched hand and there he is giving you the packet without any issues! Well you hoped he would voluntarily help you but maybe that wasn’t what he had in mind.

With a perfect aim unlike yours he tossed the shoe back at your head making you yelp. “Hope your brain starts working now.” Men open their mouth and ruin everything, he along with his actions ruined it. “Hey! Are you out of your mind?” He let out a dry chuckle at your words.

“You think so ‘Miss who goes throwing shoes at random people’ huh?” He taunted, leaning against one of racks looking at you unamused. “I said it wasn’t intentional, but what you did is dumb!” Huffing loudly at his casual attitude, you crossed your arms over your chest.

His icy voice filled the area as he spoke “Watch that pretty mouth of yours. Throwing stuff around like a careless idiot doesn't make you look smart.”

“Ugh! What’s your problem dude? I apologised already and if you can’t help me then please leave for god’s sake.” Not expecting his help, you returned your attention to the Cheetos packet.

He smirked at your stubbornness. “I’d rather watch you struggle.” he said, amused, his eyes following your movements. Choosing to ignore his presence, which was anything but easy, you focused on your target.

Again an idea struck you: the racks seemed sturdy, so if you stepped on the bottom shelf, you might reach the goddamn packet. Without hesitation, you climbed onto the bottom shelf. Still, you were unable to reach the top one, hence, you decided to step on the next one, gripping the upper shelves for support, both feet off the ground.

Jisung watched the whole scene unfold in front of his eyes. Not budging at all to help eben though he knew how dangerous this could be, finding this entertaining or so he thought until he saw one of your foot slip, causing you to lose balance.

As if on cue he rushed to you, wrapping his arms around your waist to support you. He didn’t expect you to fall completely, landing on top of him. The chaos ended with him on his back, you in his arms.”

“What an idiot” he groaned in pain. “Do you think you’re Spiderman, climbing the racks, thinking you won’t hurt?” Wincing, he spat out his words. Maybe it was the closeness that made you not argue back, but all you could manage was a timid “sorry.”

A red hue crept up your face realizing how close you were to his face, his arms still wrapped around you securely, this was both embarrassing and exciting. "Y/N! Oh my god, what happened?" A concerned voice of your roommate pulled you out of your thoughts.

Stumbling, you stood up and pointed accusingly at the boy still on the ground. “I fell while getting the Cheetos, and he,” you cleared your throat, cheeks still flushed, “he saved me.” Jisung, hissing from the pain in his back, stood up too.

"Jisung?" She asked recognising him. "Oh hey neighbour." He said surprised. Neighbour? Whose neighbour? Her parent’s? “Is she your friend?” He looked you up and down with a disdainful look. Your roommate nodded her head in slight surprise. “She’s such a pain in the ass, how do you even put up with her?”

“What the-” The audacity of this Jisung boy. You were about to defend yourself when your roommate put a hand over your mouth and pulled you out of the aisle and the store. “See you later, Jisung.”

“What was that?” you huffed angrily once you got home. “God, Y/N, Jisung is our new neighbor! You met Chenle and Jaemin, right? Well, Jisung just moved in yesterday. I didn’t want you to start a fight with him,” she explained.

Chenle and Jaemin were so sweet and humble, they even help you carry stuff whenever you ran into them at the parking lot, always had the warmest smiles while greeting you and this Jisung guy on the other hand… let’s not get into it. You practically hate him already.

Jisung wasn’t like his friends, and knowing he was your neighbor, he’d make sure your life wasn’t easy. But still the next morning you found a packet of Cheetos on your door with a note reading “For the Feisty and Stubborn one. Nice to meet you neighbour ;)”

mastaerlist. nct dream | nct 127 | wayv

navigation.

[waterfallofspace]

Allergic To Concepts

Is anyone else still into the M/agnus Archives? Maybe, maybe not, but I have had this fic sitting in my google docs for months, and I just finally managed to get myself to finish up the last bit, so here is part one of a possible two part fic, if I can ever manage to get myself to write the next part!

So, if anyone wants, please enjoy a little Allergic to concepts Jon. aka, Jon is so allergic to dogs that just the idea of them gets him a bit worked up~

I'll never be over this podcast, and I might start sharing small (tiny) drabbles of these guys if anyone would be interested <3 or even just to start coaxing myself back into writing~

Characters: Jon, Martin, Tim, and Sasha Word Count: 2.7k

“-so to conclude, we absolutely, most certainly, cannot do that,” Martin finishes, hands woven into his hair. Seems to happen more often nowadays; getting a job you’re not exactly qualified for tends to bring on a touch of added stress. What brings even more stress, however, are the faces staring back at him, twin smiles painted across worryingly calm canvases. Seems once a poet, always a poet, even in your own thoughts. 

Tim chuckles, mischief running through his eyes. “How do you even know that? You been stalking our new boss?” 

“W-well no, it’s just that…” Martin starts, beginning to study the floor as his rambling starts to take over. “Well there may have been an… incident, of- of sorts, with a uh… well it was, I was trying to open this door, but see I was holding files, and there was this dog, and they kinda just- well I was trying to stop it but it got in and- so I went to Jon’s office and he was just kinda… and then I-” 

“So what?” Tim interrupts, mercifully saving Martin from his own tongue. “Why should his issues stop us from havin’ a good time?” With a snap of his fingers, Tim casts Sasha a devious wink. The colour seems to drain from Martin’s face as he holds up a shaking finger, aiming somewhere behind Tim’s shoulders. 

“Ah, speak of the devil,” Sasha mutters, her smile never wavering. 

Spinning on his heel, Tim turns to greet the newest arrival to the hallway. “Fancy seeing you here, boss! Burning the midday oil?” 

Jon pauses, papers nearly spilling from his crowded arms as he fumbles with some keys. “That’s not an expression. And what are you all doing cramped in the hall? Don’t any of you have work to do?” 

Martin nearly keels over as Jon’s glare settles against him, seemingly deeming him responsible for this lapse in progress. As if! In fact, he’d been the one begging them to get back to work. Honestly, Jon should appreciate the fact that he talked them out of-

“Actually, we’re thinking of heading off for the day,” Tim cuts in, leaving Martin’s mouth nearly hanging open. Had they not just gone over why this was a horrible idea? As if to answer his unspoken question, Sasha joins in with support for Tim’s cause. Martin’s pretty sure there’s actually a gap between his lips. 

Jon, having opened the office by this point, merely stops and stares. Seconds pass, though it feels more like minutes. There appears to be some sort of staring match between the three of them. 

Finally Jon breaks the silence with a short… well, it’s hard to call it a laugh, more like a huff. His posture tightens as he attempts to pull himself to his full height, casting Tim a wary glance. “You can’t be serious.” 

“Quite serious in fact! See, me and Sasha have been thinking,” Tim pauses, gesturing to the aforementioned with a sickly sweet smile. Merely performance charm, which given the eye-roll she shoots back, Sasha’s well aware of. “All of us here need a chance to bond.” 

“Bond, you say,” Jon’s monotone voice offers no insight to how he’s taking this suggestion. As Martin’s mouth begins to dry, his hands start working their way back into his hair. 

“Indeed!” Tim continues, seemingly oblivious to Martin’s rapidly increasing heart rate. “We’ve all been stuck here together, figured we should become more of a team, you know? A team-building exercise you could call it. Something to get us more on the same page.” 

“And what is this ‘team-building exercise’ you have in mind?” 

Well, his heart may have been racing before, but it’s not anymore. In fact, he’s almost entirely convinced it’s just stopped completely. Jon’s eyes meet his own, and Martin drops his gaze fast enough to leave him dizzy. 

This time Sasha speaks up, her coy tone doing nothing to alleviate the heart attack symptoms Martin’s now convinced he’s feeling. “An animal rescue cafe. They rescue dogs and cats, the ones that need rehoming, and bring them there so you can get to know them before you adopt. One opened just down the street from here, and me and Tim have been looking into going. We figured, might as well drag you and Martin along with us.” 

Jon’s glare narrows further, a single hand coming up to rest between his eyes. The movement is completed by pushing up his glasses with a sigh. “And how exactly does drinking tea in a room full of animals qualify as team building?” 

“You can tell a lot about a person from the way they treat animals,” Tim offers. “Not to mention the fact that there’s a whole study about how psychopaths are more likely to hate cats, which is mostly due to the fact cats have willful behaviour.” 

Martin can almost taste his heartbeat at this point, a fact he’s finding quite alarming. Still rummaging through papers, Jon steps into his office. Much to Martin’s chagrin, they all seem to be following him. 

“Are you suggesting someone working in this office is a psychopath, Tim?” Jon continues, huffing out another sigh as he notices the entourage entering his office. Jon’s glare lands on Martin once more, something he’s almost gotten used to at this point. 

Laughter begins to flow from Tim, Sasha joining in with a mild chuckle. “Of course not, but hey, this job’s all about researching things that probably aren’t true. Better safe than sorry, right?” 

Seemingly the only one noticing Jon’s growing apprehension, or maybe just the only one that cares, Martin can’t peel his eyes off their boss. Unaware of the scrutiny, though perhaps expecting it nonetheless, Jon pushes up his glasses again. Martin doesn’t miss the way he lets a single finger brush against his nose during this action. Nor do his eyes skip over the light scrunch forming at the bridge of said nose. 

Oblivious as always, Tim’s still going on about the cafe. Something about which animals are available, what tea they serve, scones, and more useless information. Sasha’s typing something in her phone, apparently fact checking his current ramblings. Still, all of that fades into the background as Martin’s attention is drawn to Jon once more. 

At first, he can’t figure out why he’s watching. Jon didn’t speak, and from his posture he hasn’t made any significant gestures. There doesn’t seem to be anything specifically that should have caught his eye, and yet-  

And then it happens again. Jon’s brows tighten, his eyes begin to flutter shut, and his lips part just enough for his tongue to peek out between them. There’s a beat of silence, then a single breathy inhale, barely noticeable above Tim’s monologuing. 

“ihh-” 

Just as quickly as it began, Jon crushes it back once more, a hand roughing swiping against his nose. There’s a quiet feeling of– perverse excitement as Martin watches him. Why? No earthly idea. It’s not as if there’s anything specifically… exciting about the action. There’s no physical stimulation beginning, to phrase it politely. 

Still, there’s something… almost electrifying, about bearing witness to a moment so personal and private. As if the only person in the room is Jon, and he’s opened the door for Martin to join him in his world. Which, as you think about it, just becomes more and more– creepy as hell! Damn it! 

Pulling himself from his thoughts, Martin manages to peel his gaze away from Jon. Zoning back into Tim’s rambling, he just barely catches the tail end of a rant about different toppings on cinnamon buns. His silence was entirely unnoticed. Understandably, given only Tim had said anything in minutes. 

“Personally, I’m a fan of the regular cream cheese icing,” Martin offers, forcing himself to keep his eyes on Tim as another soft sniffle sounds behind him. The others don’t notice it, Sasha rolling her eyes as a light begins to dawn in Tim’s. 

“Well, interesting you say that Martin, they actually have those at the cafe down the street! Isn’t that such a wonderful coincidence?” Tim swirls his body towards Martin, casting a playful glance back at Jon as he continues. “Wouldn’t you like to stop by and get yourself one of those delicious buns?” 

Martin feels his face begin to pale again, and barely manages a meek, “W-well… I don’t need to… get one right now… but if you want-” 

Thankfully he’s saved from himself as a gasp sounds out from the desk. Everyone in the room turns, Martin included, just in time to see Jon duck into his wrist with a tight, “ih’nGXt–uih!” 

“Bless you!” Sasha calls, Tim and Martin echoing the sentiment. A flush begins to spread over Jon’s cheeks, but it’s brushed off as he waves a hand, continuing to scribble on some papers. Casting a glance over to Tim, Martin sighs as the mischief floods the other man's face. He’s very clearly not letting this go. 

“Was that actually a sneeze?” Tim laughs, mimicking the sound as Sasha suppresses a giggle. 

Jon keeps his head down, pen still moving across the paper in disjointed movements. “It was in fact a sneeze, yes. Happens to everyone from time to time, no need to make a big deal out of it. Now, I believe you were going to a cat and do- hiHh! rescue cafe?” 

The hitch manages to escape from Jon’s tight grip, his posture shuddering slightly with the force of continuing the sentence. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Martin that just the word dog seems to leave him breathless. 

“A dog cafe, yeah! You’re coming too, right boss? Come see all the adorable little puppies?” Tim offers, gesturing towards the door. Apparently it didn’t go unnoticed by him either. 

An audible gasp sounds out, and all eyes turn back to the rapidly hitching boss. Jon manages to stifle the first one almost silently, only a rush of breath escaping at the end. 

“Bless you, boss.” 

Jon waves a hand, wiping away the water beginning to flood his eyes. “Was just sihh… sighing, Tim.” He finishes the statement with another stifle, this time his whole body jerks along with the rough exhale.  

“Really? Because that sounded like another sneeze,” Tim taunts, poking a finger towards Jon’s face. “And given the way your nose is twitching, you seem far from done.” 

Jon seems to consider debating, but another frantic hitch decides it for him. Giving up the ruse, he ducks into his shoulder with another, “eh’tNGxt–uh! ih’NTchhuh!”  

“Bless yo-” 

“eH’DGZSHhh –uu!”  The volume makes everyone jump, seeming to surprise even Jon. 

“Oh- mby apologies, I seeb to be… hiehh–” Jon trails off, one hand frantically searching for a tissue, nose visibly trembling behind the other. In a move of uncharacteristic pity, Tim pushes the box within reach. Jon mumbles out a thank you, before swinging his chair around for a touch of privacy. 

The silence is almost deafening, cut up only by the rustling of fabric as Jon attempts to subdue the onslaught. “eh’nGNt –oo!” And fails miserably. 

“Do- maybe do you want… well possibly we should, actually I think you might- I mean he might want–” Desperately trying to find a way to fill the space, Martin rambles on, gaze bouncing between all three of his coworkers.

“Martin,” Jon cuts him off, “just say it.” 

The annoyance Martin’s come to expect seems unaffected by the breathy quality of Jon’s words. Unless you notice the flushed nature of his ears, which… is kinda hard to miss when his nose is starting to match. 

“S-sorry! I just figured you may want a touch of uh… privacy..? You seem… itchy,” Martin offers, already beginning to back out of the room. 

Jon glares, lining up a retort before pausing as the first syllable comes out muffled with congestion. A sharp sniff and quick rub later, he continues in an easier tone. “I’m quite alright. No need for such concerns.” 

“I mean- If… if you’re sure…” 

Tim interrupts this time, draping an arm across Martin’s back. “You heard the boss, he’s fine. Now, onto that cafe?” 

Before Martin can get a word out, Jon stands from his chair, dropping the tissues in the wastebasket next to his desk. Sasha chuckles out her approval, sticking her phone into a pocket and beginning to exit the office. Tim follows suit, leaving Martin standing alone with Jon. 

There’s a beat of silence, Martin watching, horrified, as his body refuses to move an inch, silently waiting for Jon’s approval. 

“Well?” 

It’s not exactly an invitation, but it’s more than enough to send Martin scrambling for the door, muttering more sheepish apologies under his breath. If Jon heard them, he gave no indication, busy rustling through a desk drawer. A few more muffled stifles make their way through the noise, no indication given they were heard either. 

As Martin makes it into the hallway, he catches Tim waving from the door. He’s propping it open with one foot as Sasha waits outside, once again on her phone. Martin waves back his acknowledgement, before gesturing towards the kitchen. Tim simply shrugs, calling something about ‘not waiting around’, before joining Sasha in the crisp autumn air. 

Making his way back to the kitchen, Martin pauses at Jon’s door. He’s not eavesdropping, just… listening in, to see if Jon’s alright. It’s his boss after all, and he’s an assistant! He’s supposed to… assist! Perfectly natural thing to do, isn’t it? 

A harsh double pulls him from his spiralling, Jon’s voice coming through audibly in the groan that follows. Alright, enough listening in, this is starting to feel more creepy than curious. 

With what little confidence he can muster, Martin works his way through his plan. The mugs are where they always are, but the water in the kettle was a bit more cold than a proper cup of tea would allow. Flipping the switch, Martin began heating it, and hurried out of the kitchen to his desk. He picks out a fairly bland tea, Jon seems the bland type… right? 

Another few sneezes sound out from the boss’s office, and Martin almost starts to feel guilty for still being in the office. It’s obvious Jon assumes he’s alone, if not from the sneezes themselves, from the groans that come after them. Ever the stickler for a Professional Appearance, he’d never allow himself to be seen or heard in such a state willingly. 

The kettle sounding pulls Martin from his thoughts once more, and he pours the water over the tea bag. Moving carefully, as not to spill, he makes his way back to Jon’s office, knocking softly on the door. 

“Yes?” The reply is sharp, a frantic sounding shuffling occurring as Martin begins to slide open the door. 

“Hey, yeah sorry I just- you sounded like… I just thought that maybe you’d want… you might need some…” 

“Spit it out, Martin,” Jon sighs, giving his nose a subtle swipe. Unfortunately for him, this seems to have been the wrong choice. His nose twitches, eyes beginning to unfocus, and Martin finds himself pausing for the interruption. At least, until Jon gestures at him to continue. 

“Well, I just ma-” 

“ih’tNGT–uu!” 

“Bless you. I just made you some tea, it seemed you cou-” 

“hHUh’dNT–uh!” There’s a pause, Jon’s breath catching dramatically, before he swivels around in the chair and aims a harsh, “eH’dZSHH– eih’DSCHhhh–oo!” at the fistful of tissues he managed to grab. 

It wasn’t exactly quiet, and Martin finds himself flinching against the noise, but holds it together as he places the mug on Jon’s desk, hurrying through the rest of his sentence. 

“Seemed you could use some tea, bless you again by the way, anyways I’m gonna head off with Sasha and Tim, I’ll see you there I guess! Or, well- not just me, we’ll all see you there, as a group, if you choose to come that is! Which of course you don’t have to, though we’d lik-” 

“Martdin,” Jon, mercifully, cuts him off, congestion seeping through his words. With a deep sigh, he finishes his sentence. “Thagnk you. You mbay go ndow.” 

Taking the out, Martin gives one last nervous smile, sliding out into the hallway. Another desperate sneeze leaves him wincing, Jon’s vocal groan sounding out yet again. The poor guy sounds miserable, and Martin almost considers going back in and telling him not to come. If he’s this bad from just the thought… well… 

But he’s embarrassed himself enough for the day, and, albeit hesitantly, Martin heads off to meet Tim and Sasha at the cafe.

[pretending-ican-write]

Cowboy Up - Pt.11

A/N: Hey guys just letting you know what the situation in terms of updates going forwards. I am making no guarantees as to updates from now until June because I am at the end of my final year of uni and gonna be v busy with assignments. This won't be going anywhere though and I will have plenty time in the summer to work on it.

As always feel free to send in any requests for this pairing, I likely won't get round to them for a few months but know that I see them and I love you all for engaging with this story which is now nearly 15,000 words! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

Pairing: Ryan (Yellowstone) x Dutton!reader

Previous part - Next part

---

Once all the morning jobs had been seen to, everyone had congregated in the corral for some fun roping the dummy on the back of the quad.  They’d invited hands from a neighbouring ranch for a bit of friendly competition, although it stopped being friendly the moment bets had started flying.  Most of the hands were betting on themselves, obviously confident in their own abilities, but a few from the Yellowstone had put money on y/n who had partnered with the other ranch’s female hand, despite the shouts of ‘traitor’ coming from her co-workers.  The only response she’d dignified them with was a middle finger and a guarantee to wipe the floor with them all.  Ryan and Lloyd had just had their turn when she lined up to take their shot.

Y/n exchanged a look with the other hand, getting a determined nod in return before she looked at Ethan on the quad and gave him the signal.  The quad didn’t go as fast as a steer so the horses could comfortably lope after it as opposed to going flat out like they normally would.  Their horses followed it easily and she held steady as the other hand swung her rope over the horns quickly off the mark.  Once the horns were done, y/n took her turn swinging the loose rope over head before aiming it at the back legs and hitting her mark.  As soon as the loop had tightened, she shifted her weight in the saddle back to which Comanche responded instantly by sliding to a halt in the sand.

Cheers came up from the onlookers at their speed, Rip turning to rib those who’d just gone, “y’all just got beat by some women.”

Lloyd turned to Ryan, “you rope like shit.”

“You’re the one that missed!” He defended

Rip rode up to them, “y’all rope like shit.  I’m gonna take those women with me today and y’all can just go fucking pack it in.”

Y/n loped down the arena to stop in front of them, “you should really learn to never bet against me.  Jake and Colby made smart choices, I expect my share of your winnings boys!”

“Ladies think you can go two for two?” Rip asked to which they both nodded, “get your ass in there let’s go.”

They watched as the girls reset and ran behind the quad to catch the plastic steer again with practised ease.  Lloyd rolled his eyes at the ever present fond look Ryan had in his eyes whenever he watched his girlfriend.  At this point everyone in the bunkhouse had figured out they were together, it was just a matter of time until Rip worked it out and he did not envy Ryan when that happened.  The foreman’s approval likely meant more to her than any of her family’s did (except maybe what Lee had given her with his gentle teasing in the trailer).  Next to him said foreman was looking at the girl with a similarly affectionate smile.

“You’re a soft touch when it comes to her aren’t you,” Lloyd said to him.

He kept his eyes trained ahead, “I don’t know what you’re suggestin’ Lloyd.”

“Bulllshit.  I know you put this together today so her mind wasn’t stuck on her mom all day,” he pointed out.

Rip chuckled, “don’t act like you ain’t the softest on her.”

-/-/-

For the first time in a while, y/n had denied joining the hands in the bunkhouse and instead chose to have dinner in the main house.  Part of her had hoped that her family might be able to have one normal dinner on the anniversary of their mother’s death but she should have remembered that the Dutton’s were never capable of normal, especially when it came to the dinner table.  When she’d reached the house, the living room was full of men in suits surrounding Beth and her father, clearly some political play that she’d made clear not to involve her in.  Jamie was sulking on the porch listening to the chatter so she decided to ignore him, in no mood to deal with her older brother acting like a child.

Instead she sought out Gator for dinner, which he was happy to accommodate considering she’d brushed off pancakes that morning, before having a shower and settling on the opposite side of the porch to Jamie where the talking didn’t reach her ears.  As she listened to the noises of the mountains surrounding her and the comforting whickers from the horses, she indulged in the only alcohol she ever did.  One beer, on the evening of the anniversary of her mother’s death.  Evelyn’s favourite beer.  It wasn’t even something she particularly liked the taste of but it made her feel a little bit connected to her mom as she imagined all the gossip they might have been exchanging if the horse never crushed her.  Y/n refused to believe John would have done what he did to Kayce if their mom had been around to talk sense into him.

“I thought you didn’t drink sweetheart,” a familiar voice came out of the darkness to interrupt her ‘what ifs’.

Y/n opened her eyes to see her boyfriend in front of her, “just the one for mom each year.  Ain’t even that good but it's hers.”

She watched as he came across the grass in front of the porch to lean on the railing in front of her.  Ryan tipped his hat at her teasingly which made y/n giggle.

“What’s got you so close to the house cowboy?  Aren’t they missing you in poker,” she joked.

He stuck his tongue out at her, “you ain’t much better at it than me sweetheart.  Something told me I shouldn’t let you be alone tonight.”

“The house is full of fools tryna get into bed with my father and Jamie’s out here somewhere sulking like a child!” Y/n said the last bit louder in hopes that her brother would get the message and go inside.

Ryan laughed at her lack of subtlety, “Jamie can stay out here for all I care.  If everyone in the house is busy suckin’ dick I doubt they’ll notice us sneaking up to your room.”

“Ry are you suggesting I sneak my boyfriend up to my bedroom like a teenager,” she giggled.

He smirked, “well you did say you never got to sneak around when you were a teenager it seemed only fair that I give you the chance to do it now.  We’ll both be at the barn in the morning before anyone here is even considering waking up.  You know you want to say yes sweetheart.”

“You make a convincing argument.  Come on then cowboy.”

Ryan climbed over the porch railing to take the hand y/n was offering before letting her lead him into the house.  He made a joke about it being the first time he’d be going through the front door which prompted his girlfriend to elbow him in the ribs.  When they entered, she closed the door as quietly as the wood would allow before gesturing for Ryan to take his boots off.  Jamie must have heard his sister because he’d moved his sulking to the kitchen where he was sat at the counter burning a hole into his laptop screen.  Y/n turned, putting her finger to her lips, before darting past the kitchen entryway and to the stairs.  Both of them made it up to her bedroom, making sure the door was shut before bursting into laughter.  Y/n felt lighter than she had all day, the weight of the day finally off her shoulders.

She swiped the hat off of his head, putting it on her damp hair with a smirk.  Ryan watched her carefully as she moved around the room to put her boots away.  When she turned back around he was still by the door, leant against the wall with his arms crossed, eyes trained on his hat still on her head.

“You know what you’re doing there sweetheart?” He asked.

Y/n shrugged, “you askin’ if I know the cowboy hat rule, Ry?”

“Do you?” He pushed off the wall to stand in front of her and placed his hands on her hips gently.

She slid her hands up to rest on his shoulders, “I been around buckle bunnies since I was 15 Ry, course I know the cowboy hat rule.”

-/-/-

The next morning, y/n was awoken to the loud noise of her alarm blaring from her bedside table.  When she tried to turn it off she found herself too far away to reach her phone.  Pulling herself further into consciousness, y/n became aware of an arm around her waist and the feeling of Ryan’s lips against her shoulder.

“That’s so fuckin’ loud,” he complained.

She laughed as he let her go to turn the alarm off, “how else do you expect me to wake up before the sun rises?”

“Can’t remember the last time I used an alarm, normally just get woken up by the others getting up,” he explained.

They stayed wrapped up in the warmth of the bed for a few minutes before forcing themselves out of the comfort to get ready for work.  Ryan watched as his girlfriend got dressed before putting her hat on his head, not his this time, and followed her down the stairs.  Y/n slipped into the kitchen to get two apples, brushing off Gator’s questioning as to why she was taking more than one.  After grabbing her jacket from the peg, they walked down the drive to the barn in comfortable silence.

Y/n stopped part way there when she saw the cattle trucks and her dad stood outside, “shit he should still be asleep.”

“Don’t stress I’ll go round the corral and go in the back to the bunkhouse,” Ryan reassured her, dropping a kiss to her cheek, “in a bit sweetheart.”

She watched him go with a smile before taking a breath and steeling herself to speak to John without caffeine.

“Fell asleep in a stall?” She greeted him outside the barn, noting the shavings stuck to the back of his jacket.

John looked over at his daughter, “what you doing down here so early?  The hands won’t be out for a bit.”

“I’ll go get Comanche and ride up to meet these at the pasture,” Lucy tactfully ignored her dad’s question, “tell Rip to bring me coffee when they come up.”

Taglist: @child-of-of-the-sunshine @kendallroydefender @qardasngan @thecobraghost @little-diable

[allwaswell16]

[4 pics, 4 quotes, 4 iconic 1D fics]

Iconic Fics by...

- kingsofeverything -

[1]

“It wouldn’t annoy me. I like talking to you. Hearing from you. You know that.”

Louis does know, though he tries not to think about it. Every time Harry says something like that, something kind or sweet or sincere, Louis laughs it off or makes a joke or changes the subject. It’s bad enough that he has to live with Harry, sleep beside him every night, spend all of his time with him… He has to fight it because he can’t let on how easy it would be to fall back in love with him.

It’d end badly. There’s no way around it. Because when Louis leaves in nine months, he’ll be gone for the next five years of Harry’s life. Five years that Harry hasn’t lived yet—Harry’s future—and neither of them know what’s coming. Louis can’t fall for Harry again when he knows it’ll end in heartbreak.

Once was enough.

[2]

“So, um…” Louis taps his fingers against his knee, and Harry wants to lay his hand on top of Louis’ to stop him, but he refrains, unsure what casual touches mean between them anymore. “We’re having a baby?”

Harry turns to find Louis looking at him hopefully, eyes wide. The corners of his mouth twitch upward. “It’s not a fantasy, Louis. Jesus. This isn’t a game.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You didn’t have to,” Harry says. He clenches his jaw and then forces himself to relax. Stress isn’t good for the baby.

“Harry, I’m not— I know this is different.”

“Do you?” Harry asks, because it doesn’t even seem real to him right now.

“Yes! I told you about all my siblings. My mom’s a midwife, for fuck’s sake.”

Harry cringes. “Sorry.”

[3]

“You think you’re going to fix the house by yourself? What if you fall off the roof?”

“I’m not going to fall off the roof.”

“Still. You can’t. I’m not okay with that.”

Harry rolls his eyes and closes his laptop. “Fine. Then after the insurance agent is done with their shit, we get someone else to do the work. I know people in town who can do it. I was just trying to save us money.”

“You misunderstand, Styles. I mean I’m not okay with you doing it by yourself.” Louis crosses his arms and smirks. “I’m going to help.”

Harry laughs so hard that when Louis shoves him he actually slips off of his stool and stumbles a bit. “That is the worst idea I’ve ever heard. You’re going to push me off the roof, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.”

[4]

Harry glances over, line between his eyebrows, lips pursed. “Okay. Let's start simple. I want you to be the Louis who sits at the desk across from me and sometimes brings me coffee and makes fun of my favorite salad. And I want you to also be the Louis on this trip who tickled me until I almost threw up and who held my hand in a hot air balloon and who cleaned the sand out of my eyes. And, even though you have, like, some other guy out there with like ‘circumstances’ or whatever keeping you apart, I want you to be my boyfriend. At least for a little while.”

“Harold,” Louis says, pressing his fist to his lips and closing his eyes as the feeling of relief settles over him.

“What?”

“The circumstances are that he, well, he had a boyfriend. And we work together,” Louis says, raising his eyebrows, and waiting for his words to sink in. 

“Oh…” Harry scrunches his nose and twists his lips, but can’t hide his smile. “It’s me.”

- answers below -

1- The Second Hand Unwinds 

Louis Tomlinson is one of the first members of NASA's top secret Chrono Exploration Program. When things go wrong and he's sent further back in time than planned, he has no other option than to show up on his ex-boyfriend's doorstep.

2- Say Something

At fifty years old and recently divorced, Omega Harry Styles isn't interested in dating. When his doctor suggests a heat and rut matching service, he signs up out of necessity. It’s the only use he has for an Alpha in his life.

Twenty-eight-year-old Alpha Louis Tomlinson aims to change that.

3- Don't Want Shelter

Louis and Harry have known each other all their lives. Friends as children, they danced around each other as teenagers, and have spent the last twenty-five years either screaming at each other or not speaking at all. Except for that one time ten years ago…

When Hurricane Nicole threatens the coast, they end up stuck together in their families' old vacation home that they begrudgingly co-own.

During the storm, and in the months after, they’re both forced to reevaluate their history and what they mean to each other.

4- Have Love, Will Travel 

Rather than spend the summer working at their desks, Louis and Harry are given the opportunity to crisscross the country together in a tiny camper, filming their adventures for a YouTube series.

It soon becomes obvious to their viewers that there’s something more than friendship between them. Eventually, they figure it out.

[bugbearsandbookends]

Celtic Warriors Didn’t Just Fight—They Performed. Here’s How to Steal That for Your RPG

Combat in RPGs usually starts the same way—roll initiative, then fight. But what if battles had more build-up, more tension, more drama? Historical and literary sources suggest that Celtic warfare followed a structured sequence of psychological and physical combat, beginning with taunts, then duels, and finally all-out battle. This wasn’t just fighting—it was psychological warfare, honor, and morale at play. And it’s a perfect model for a different kind of initiative system in RPGs.

The ancient Celts weren’t a single people and never saw themselves that way. They didn’t even call themselves Celts—the Greeks and Romans did. We think of them as a group today because their languages share common roots, and they had overlapping cultural traditions—among those, their way of war.

Celts were a tribal people whose lives revolved around the seasons. For most of the year, they raised livestock, mostly pigs, but cattle too. Cattle was as much a status symbol as a food source—maybe even more so. They were a prized commodity, and when the warmer months arrived, Celtic warriors targeted rival tribes and clans for cattle raids, which, in some cases, escalated into prolonged feuds. The most famous of these is the great Irish epic, Táin Bó Cúailnge, or The Cattle Raid of Cooley, which tells the story of Queen Medb of Connacht’s war to steal Ulster’s prized bull. With Ulster’s warriors cursed by a magical weakness, only Cú Chulainn—the greatest warrior of Irish myth—stands in her way. Gifted with superhuman combat skills and a terrifying battle frenzy, he holds off Medb’s army through a series of brutal duels, culminating in a tragic fight against his closest friend and rival, Ferdiad.

While obviously a work of fiction, The Táin paints a portrait of Celtic warfare very similar to that described by the Romans and Greeks. The popular imagination might depict the Celts as hordes of wild-eyed, painted warriors rushing their enemies with little thought to timing or tactics, but these fanciful portrayals have little to do with reality.

Battles were preceded by raucous blasts from the brass trumpets known as carnyces, rhythmic banging of weapons on shields, and curses hurled by druids, all aimed at rattling an enemy’s morale. Warriors sometimes fought in the nude, too, which served to intimidate opponents who depended on tough leather and chain mail to ward off blows.

Once the lines were drawn, the two forces exchanged taunts, insults, and, perhaps most importantly, boasts. The Celts were a very proud people and were quick to boast of their prowess in battle and the accomplishments of themselves and their forebears. Likewise, an accusation of cowardice or a slight aimed at one’s honor could not be left unaddressed.

Knowing this, the champions of a fighting force would call out their rivals and challenge them to single combat. These one-on-one duels would take place in front of both armies, with the winning fighter claiming the other’s head and lifting it up high for his allies to see. Sometimes, this would end the battle before it began, but not often. The Celts loved to fight, after all.

This structured approach to battle—taunts, duels, then full melee—offers a compelling alternative to the standard initiative roll. It works best in fights against intelligent foes who share a common language and a cultural sense of honor. There are plenty of ways to implement such a thing, but here’s one way:

A Structured Initiative System Inspired by Celtic Warfare

Taunt Phase:

Combat begins with an exchange of insults and boasts. Players can roleplay this or roll skill checks (Persuasion, Intimidation, or Performance). A successful taunt gives a +1 bonus to initiative in the next phase and may even demoralize weaker foes.

Challenge Phase:

A warrior may call out an enemy champion for single combat before the full battle begins. The winner boosts their side’s morale, granting a +1 bonus to attack rolls or another minor tactical advantage when the melee begins.

Combat Phase:

All players roll initiative, applying any bonuses gained in previous phases. Combat proceeds as normal, but those who dominated the pre-battle rituals enter the fight with momentum.

This is how I might do this. What about you?

[b0g-b0y]

Silent sorrows

This isn't exactly what you wanted but I hope you still like it! Requested @xweirdo101x

Depression is a key factor in this.

Sorry, I feel like this is really short...

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

Simon's dark brown eyes held their gaze on his friend next to him, they looked tired.

Simon's gaze moved to the paper that his friend Y/n was shooting at not too long ago. The holes in the paper weren't centered but scattered. “ Your aim is going to shit…” Ghost said with his gruff voice. “ I know,” Y/n said as he got ready to shoot again. “ Think you need rest think you need it.” Ghost said as he watched his friend put down his gun to look at Ghost. Y/n gave a small smirk. “That's your way of telling me I look like shit?” Y/n asked. “ Bloody hell, Y/n if you looked like absolute dog shit I’d say so,” Ghost responded.

With a small sigh, Y/n left the shooting range he didn't need Ghost analyzing him well he worked. God, he wanted a drink.

Yeah sure Ghost was right Y/n was tired, tired of everything and nothing all at the same time.

Later that night Y/s sat on the side of his bed and held onto an empty pill bottle that he should have refiled a month ago, but he never did. The excuses ran through his head I’ll do it later, I'm too busy, and the pharmacy isn't open right now. All of those were just excuses he made.

He knew it was his fault that he was feeling this depressed again after all, all he needed to do was get a refill.” This is stupid,” Y/n mumbled to himself. He threw the empty pill bottle in the trash across the room and missed the shot as he watched the bright orange bottle roll pathetically on the floor.

It wasn't long before he was lying in bed he couldn't sleep not when he felt so hollow.

The following day Y/n couldn't get out of bed he sent Price a text saying he had food poisoning and probably wouldn't be able to work for today. Who knows what excuse he’d use next…

A quick reply from Price reading, get some rest and feel better soon.

Y/n put his phone down and sat up he felt sweaty and gross hell, just looking around at his room made him feel gross. The bedsheets haven't been in months, empty bottles of different drinks filled most of his trash can. Empty cups sat on his desk, his clothes barely in the laundry basket. His room was a big violation compared to the standard, if Price saw this he’d truly be upset but Ghost would be the one most unhappy.

Y/n and ghost were good friends, maybe on the verge of something more.

Something more would never happen in Y/n's eyes. Ghost has been thought a lot, the last thing he could picture is Ghost in a relationship with anyone.

Y/n and Ghost both had their problems but maybe that’s what made them feel so close.

Even as Y/n sat looking at his room his head was filled with not only his disappointment, but the disappointment he knew Ghost would hold for him.

—————————————————————

It didn’t take Ghost too long to notice the difference. Eventually Ghost found his way in the room y/n stayed in.

Ghosts large hand slowly rubbing y/ns back, scaring him slightly being woken up like that.” Hey Y/n, how are you feeling?” Ghost asked. As y/n replied with a small hum. “ Y/n need you fully with me, wake up fully “ Ghost said as softly as he could with someone with such a deep voice.

A few minutes later the two of them sat next to each other. “ Y/n you aren’t doing too hot are yeah. Don’t talk, just listen to me mate. I know you haven’t been taking your meds. I know sometimes you think you’re doing fine and then you stop taking your meds because you think you’re fine. But you need them… I need you, don’t want to lose you Y/n I know what it’s like to be fucked up. Call me selfish but i don’t want want to watch you getting fucked up too…” Ghost said. “ I know Ghost I know… it just gets hard sometimes and I just thought… I don't know what I thought.” Y/n said in defeat.” Doesn’t matter what matters is that you start taking care of yourself the best you can Y/n, we can work through it together yeah… we can work on getting through problems together.” Ghost said.

The two of them sat in silence just enjoying each other’s company. Knowing that they would be there for each other, in anyway they could no matter what type of dance they would have to play.

[rhiandoesfandom]

Hellatober Day 12 Ficlet- Murder

(My take on a 'Blitz is hired to kill Stolas' au)

Blitz loads up the guns and angelic bullets into the back of the van. When he started IMP he knew it would be dangerous. Killing hell's Elite is harder than killing anything really. Because everyone on every side hates you for it.

Just a few months in and their office has already gotten raided by police, raided by the mob, raided by angry elite family members that sick their hellhounds on them. And Blitz himself has probably five different mugshots by now? But what else are his options? It's not like an imp like him has any other ones.

Loona had to get a job at stylish occult cause he decided it was too dangerous for her to hang around the office. And Blitz drives Millie and Moxxie to and from work every single day. Just to make sure they don't get jumped by people sour about their hits.

"Sir before you do this last one can you take us home?" Moxxie asks as he polishes his gun.

"Sure Moxxie, Millie, get your stuff", he replies and grabs his keys, closing up the back as Millie jumps in the passenger and Moxxie jumps in the back.

"And you're sure you got this one on your own?" Moxxie asks. Blitz rolls his eyes, M&M are so protective. He's supposed to be the ones protective of them.

"Yeah Moxx, I got it. Spend a nice evening in, Kay? I'll text you when it's done", he stops the van in front of their apartment.

"Okay B we'll be expecting that text!" Millie says and squeezes his shoulder then they head inside.

He makes sure he sees their living room window light turn on then he leaves.

The person who wanted this chump dead didn't really say why. But Blitz about a month in also stopped asking. It wasn't his business. Killing someone he's told to is.

He parks behind a wall where there's a small cracked opening and slithers into a well maintained garden. Checking that he has the angelic blade and enough bullets, he continues with his rifle slinged over his back.

Like a salamander, he slithers past bushes and up a tree. Taking station. He sets up his rifle and puts in the angelic bullets. They mildly sting against his fingers so he pulls his gloves down a little bit to cover them.

Luckily the rich bastard left his balcony wide open. There is a nice breeze in the air tonight but it's foolish. Comfortable. He looks through his scope and aims straight at the grey figure in the bed.

"Gotcha bitch..", he whispers when the grey figure stirs just as he pulls the trigger. The figure moving throws him off and the rifle slips a little and shoots past the bed. Blitz covers his mouth. Trying to slow his breathing as the grey figure puts on a robe.

Suddenly there's magic underneath him, floating him upside down over the balcony and into the room, plopping him onto the bed. Leaving his rifle in the tree. He stares at the figure as it walks out from the shadows. A Goetian prince. He knew this of course. But he never likes to see their faces.

Blitz fumbles his hands to his side and pulls out the angelic dagger, pointing it towards the Prince.

"Tch, I'm guessing my wife paid you for this, hmm?" He says non chalantly. Blitz's eyes dart around the room.

"Uh..maybe", he says. Still holding out the blade towards him. Stolas sits next to him on the bed.

"I'm not going to hurt you", he says and Blitz smirks, "Then you're naive", and attempts to tackle the prince but he freezes him with magic again, Blitz's insides cold and paralyzed a moment as Stolas grabs the dagger and throws it to the other side of the room, it landing in a chair cushion. Then unfreezes him.

Blitz holds his chest and looks to the prince in well- not fear but-hesitancy.

"There. That's better. Now. What's your name", he says. Blitz blinks, 'Uh..." Stolas chuckles, "I won't bite you know".

"How do I know that?" He replies which makes Stolas chuckle again. Blitz smirks again.

"I still have to do my job you know", he points to the knife across the room. Stolas sighs, "What if I made you a better proposal".

Blitz thinks, "What like more money to kill your wife?" Stolas shakes his head, "Satan-no. As horrid as she is, I don't want her dead. My daughter needs her mother. I mean- what is it you want or need. Anything".

Love. Companionship. Belonging.

Blitz narrows his eyes, "Are you bluffing with me? This some prank for a Voxtech show?" He scooches away from Stolas.

Stolas puts his hands up, "No, no of course not. I wouldn't lie to you".

"Then why offer me anything?" He cocks his head. Stolas shrugs, "I don't want to die?" Fair point.

Blitz thinks for a moment. "Well, do you have a way to earth? I'd rather kill humans than the elite in hell. So much easier", he says and Stolas is taken aback but looks in his Grimoire, flipping through pages.

Stolas points, "Hmm. Would an Asmodean Crystal do?"

Blitz's eyes grow wide and he coughs, "Y-you'd get one of those for me?"

"I have connections, I could try at the very least", Stolas replies, closing the Grimoire, "Would that suffice?"

"That would more than fucking suffice", he says and hops off the bed, looking back to make sure Stolas isn't going to freeze him with magic again.

Stolas walks over and pulls the dagger out, ignoring the pain in his hand from the hilt and hands it to Blitz.

"We have a deal, then?" He asks, smiling.

Blitz takes the dagger back and stows it. Shaking his hand, "Deal". He attempts to let go of the prince's hand but he is still squeezing.

Blitz looks up at him nervously, "Uh, your highness...my hand". Stolas blinks, "Oh, sorry", he replies and relinquishes Blitz's hand.

Blitz hands Stolas his phone and Stolas puts his number in. Blitz names it "The Prince".

"So you'll tell me when you have the crystal?" He asks. Stolas nods, "I will". Blitz backs away and hits his back against the balcony doors.

"U-uh okay I'll be going now", he awkwardly leaves over the balcony as Stolas waves.

"Farewell".

[itsscromp]

Spending Christmas with Jason Todd for the first time after his resurrection?

Jason todd x reader

Oh... I like this idea a lot, I think y/n would do anything to make Jason feel at home again with the holidays. Word count:1.2K

Jason being revived was overwhelming as it is, But you were glad to have your best friend back... But you could tell the whole experience left him shaken, I mean he literally died and was brought back to life, Not only that you had to guide him through everything as he also lost his memories as well.

Christmas was coming up really fast and it's usually one of Jason's favourite holidays, Maybe this will help him remember just a little bit, Not a lot but a little bit. Baby steps. So you went out and got a Christmas tree for the Belfry, Beginning to decorate it soon after putting it up.

"What's all this y/n ??" Jason looked over from his training.

"Oh I'm just setting up the Christmas tree" You said while continuing to decorate it. You could hear Jason lightly huff before heading back to his training, Sighing softly, you continued decorating the tree.

After which, you went out the next day and got gifts for the others. You were struggling to find a gift for Jason, Something that he might like. It almost took you 5 hours until you found a familiar comic book... It was Jason's favourite comic book. You rushed in and got it, Quickly going back to the belfry and then wrapping it all up, Placing it under the tree.

Jason saw you rush in and shook his head lightly, He had no time for Christmas or anything else, He had to continue training to get back out as Red Hood. Dick saw you trying to do this to help him remember... He gently went over to you.

"Y/n... I know this has been tough on you and Jason, But you can't just rush his memories back. It's not how it works..." He placed a hand on your shoulder and gently squeezed it.

"I know... I'm trying not to but... It's been 5 months since he came back and... I'm worried that he might not be able to ever remember it... remember anything." He could see the worry in your eye.

"Baby steps y/n... I promise" he smiled reassuringly.

Christmas Eve rolled around and you and Jason were tasked with patrolling Gotham for the night, As usual this time of the year, crime around Gotham picks up rapidly. Suiting up and then heading out. You two mostly stopped petty theft from charity tins and such. But the real kicker in the jaw, was when the clock struck midnight, Christmas day. You two saw a bright beam go into the sky, soon which it got rapidly cold very quickly.

"Freeze..." You said shuddering.

"Quickly we have to stop him" He then grappled a nearby building, ready to take him down.

"No wait, Jason !!" You quickly followed him, You both needed to come up with a plan before trying to take freeze down. The comms from the belfry picked up but were becoming choppy because of the unexpected storm.

"Crap, the belfry is losing reception" You said to him.

"Then let's give him a Christmas he'll never forget" You could tell he was smirking under his mask.

Reaching the area, You both went up the building only to find what looked like a rather large machine, Whatever was going on, that machine had to be the cause of it.

Jason was quick to head down and try and turn it off, only to be knocked away by Mr freeze. "Get away from my storm machine !!" He threatened while aiming his freeze gun at him.

Jumping down, you landed in front of Jason protecting him from harm. "Looks like you'll be on Santa's bad list" You smirked, looking over and nodding at Jason.

"You two won't be able to stop me this time" He charged his freeze gun before shooting at you both, but soon quickly dodging his attack.

"I'll distract him, you take care of the machine !!" Jason said to you as you nodded.

Jason put up a good fight, the training was coming back to him... He was slowly starting to remember... During this, he had his flashback where you and him were sparing. Before you became an official member of the bat family, He would always knock you on your ass, but it always ended in laughs, You... were his friend...

Meanwhile, you got to work decoding the machine to stop the machine from plunging Gotham into an ice age, You frantically looked over as freeze. who after knocking Jason over, Aimed his gun at you and shot a beam at you... Before you could even react, you were pushed out of the way, falling to the ground... looking over to see Jason who is now trapped in ice. "RED HOOD !!!" You rushed over trying to get him out of the ice. But then... something happened... Jason started to glow... almost in the colours of the Lazarus pit. Soon he released a burst of energy, Freeing him from the ice he was once trapped in.

"You're gonna get it now Freeze !!" He yelled and then lunged into action again, Freeze was baffled and overwhelmed by what was happening, You managed to decode the machine in time and stopped it, soon releasing Gotham out of the freezing hellscape, But them you heard glass smash as Jason smashed his helmet open, repeatedly punching him... He was going to kill him.

"Red hood stop !!!!" You grabbed his wrists before he could do any further damage. "This isn't the way..." You knew Jason had different philosophies to justice, but again he lost his memories and all the training went away... But he quickly calmed down as he got up when the police arrived. "Let's go" Was all he said as you two headed back to the Belfry.

Once back, Jason unmasks himself and takes a deep breath, Looking over at you. "Y/n... I.. I don't know what came over me... I saw you in danger and then... well everything happened..." He looked away for a bit before you went over to him. "Jason... I know everything has been hard for you since you were brought back..." You could see how this still affected him. "But the important thing is, we stopped him in the end..." You smiled softly. Jason simply nodding, but you could see the hint of a smile.

"Oh wait" You rushed over to the Christmas tree quickly pulling out his gift and rushing over to him. "Merry Christmas" You handed him his gift.

Jason was slightly taken aback by this offering but nonetheless accepted, Opening the gift, he saw the comic... You looked up at his face but saw no glint of remembrance in his eyes, You were saddened... But you tried.

As you turned away, Jason quickly grabbed you and pulled you into a tight hug, You were baffled by what happened before he pulled you out, Seeing the remembrance in his eyes... He remembered you. "Y/n..."

You smiled as your bottom lip wobbled a little. "Welcome back buddy"

"Merry Christmas Pal..." He pulled you back into a tight hug as you did as well, The first Christmas since Jason's revival... Who would've thought it would be this good.

Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board

[sugolara]

Bait

ft. K.B x S.T x I.M x fem! reader

Synopsis: After a deadly virus leaks all over the world, every country is forced to close down it's borders and airports to prevent anyone from coming in and out. Though, it's to late for some people. The dead has rose and is looking for revenge. Cw: gore, quirkless! au, apocalypse! au, zombie! au, weapons, death, angst, lots and lots of blood, cannibalism, suicidal thoughts, slow burn

previous || series m.list || next

“Flagged this aisle.” Denki said and ripped the tape with Izuku’s knife. He then handed it back to the male as they both stayed behind. They left the entertainment section and now stood in the clothing section. Before they started, they decided to leave a flashlight in each department. If one fell over or if one casted a shadow they would take cover and proceed quietly to that designated spot. Izuku had thought of the idea.

“This looks cool, right?” Denki held up a t-shirt with a band. It was in good condition, a bit dusty, but a quick wash would get rid of it. The others waited for Shoto to finish changing out of his bloody clothes as he felt he might actually crawl out of his skin if the blood continued to touch him. It had the girl mentally smirking as he still had his wealthy behavior.

“Isn’t that Kyoka’s favorite band?” Eijiro asked, his expression softening as Denki’s face fell and placed the shirt back on the table, before following the others, leaving the red-head and Izuku behind.

“What happened to her?” Izuku asked, a little afraid to hear the worst news.

Eijiro grabbed the shirt, giving it a look before placing it in his bag, “She was out scavenging before we had left and it's been two months since she hasn’t come back. Usually, we all return in a few weeks to let everyone know we’re still okay since our radio doesn’t reach that far and since she hadn’t returned, he didn’t want to leave without a sign of her still…alive.”

Hearing the red-head let out a soft sigh, they both followed behind the others. His diopside eyes glanced over at his friend, “What was her role?”

“She, Tenya, and Mashirao went out to look for weapons. It was a risky job considering everyone else is looking for guns to protect themselves. Denki didn’t want her to go, saying he’ll miss her making fun of him and miss hanging out with her, but she refused to stay.” His eyes looked down, “But after the first month had passed and they hadn’t come back, everyone in the community assumed the worst. Last we heard was Mashirao’s voice breaking up with static.”

It was very sad to think that the classmates they loved and had spent many fun memories with had passed on. They could only wish that their deaths weren’t painful and that their last second before their eyes closed, they had thought about those they dearly loved. After a while of walking, they made it to the produce section.

“You think these still work?” Shoto opened the freezer and grabbed a box of frozen vegetables. He checked the label for the expiration date, but it was barely visible due to box melting and causing it to get sloppy.

“Maybe?” F/n said while looking at the box, “It has been frozen, so maybe that stops its process.”

“Months ago.” Katsuki said while rolling his eyes at them, “Have you guys ever eaten frozen food or what? If it’s no longer frozen then it gets bad. You can freeze it all you want, but it’s still bad, idiots.”

“What did you eat if you didn’t want to cook?” Denki asked, grabbing a tub of ice cream and opening it. It was watery and smelled awful, “I know Shoto said he had maids or something, but what about you F/n?”

“Sleep.” She shrugged, continuing to walk as the three behind stared at her, though they soon followed after. Izuku and Eijiro quickly caught up as they noticed they were lagging behind. When they turned, their lights around their heads aimed at a dozen rotters lying on the ground. It was difficult to tell whether they were dead since they were covered in blood. The light had seemed to startle them as they all looked their way and began to get up, moving towards them.

“God damnit.” Katsuki glared at the dead growling.

“It was bound to happen at some point.” Shoto said and grabbed his knife from his back pocket.

With a dozen rotters coming their way and being in a small aisle, they would most certainly get caught as they barely had enough space to move around. It was then when Izuku looked at Eijiro and Denki, their guns hanging by their side. He quickly moved his feet and began pulling boxes of drinks, stacking them together, “Eijiro, come help me!”

While the others continued to watch the dead, waiting for them to at least split up and give a little room to stab them, Eijiro and Izuku hurriedly stacked boxes. It didn’t have to be perfect, it just needed to be stable enough and allow Denki and Eijiro to get up onto the big racks that stored extra drinks.

Moans were then heard on the other side, behind the group. F/n turned only to be met with another few dead, “Shit!”

Katsuki also noticed, “Whatever you have planned, hurry it up, Deku!”

“Okay! Denki, come!” Izuku pointed at their guns then to the rack, “Your guns reach the one we can’t get. You two will get up, be our back up, get rid of the ones that are behind while we try to get the ones that are near us.”

“Got it!” Eijiro said and then got on the boxes, pulling himself up to the racks where he then helped Denki.

Those on the floor had pulled out their own weapons and let the rotters get near them. They tried to separate the dead, but there were so many that even F/n had trouble with them. It would be different with a gun and they couldn’t exactly use the one’s they had stolen from back then since they didn’t want to accidentally shoot each other, so having Eijiro and Denki on higher ground was excellent and she was glad that two males were doing their part with no whining.

But how long would their bullets last? The sounds of the gunshots would only draw out more which they did not like. Sure, the warehouse doors were closed, but there might be some in the aisles they haven’t cleared out yet.

She had tripped as she stabbed one, her body getting tired as she swung her arm. One of the dead had grabbed her foot, its decapitated body and jaw missing ready to munch on her clothed calf. She had little energy as she tried to get up and although she could feel its cold, wet and wrinkled skin, she had no fear in her.

Perhaps this was meant to b-

“You trying to get yourself killed!?” Katsuki stepped on its head, turning it into mush. He then yanked her up, “The hells the matter with you.”

A short growl was heard behind the two before a gunshot rang through the air. The dead's blood splattered on Katsuki’s cheek, he in return glared at his friend that stood on the rack. Eijiro let out a relief as the dead almost bit the blonde's shoulder, “Sorry.”

His knife was dull and its rust began to show. It was tricky to get the dagger out of the rotters head as Shoto had to move it side by side in order for it to loosen. He could hear it squelching as he did so, the noise making him cringe. Though as he pulled the knife out, the blade had broken, snapping in two pieces. He let out a pant, his eyes widening as he stared at the handle in his hand as the blade let out a clunking noise as it fell to the ground.

He glared at it as he threw the handle away and then to the rotters that moaned as they got closer. In order to use his gun, he’d have to pull it out from the duffel bag and that sure would take time which he did not have, however, Denki quickly caught on as he yelled at Shoto and upon catching his eye he threw his gun at him. He ignored the questionable glare the scar male gave him as the younger blonde had thought of something better.

He moved towards the boxes of sodas that were attached to a wooden palate. It was right at the edge of the rack and since the sodas were wrapped in plastic if one fell, the others would follow. The noise was a problem, but he was taking out a couple at a time, sparring Shoto with whatever bullets were still left in his rifle.

Shoto, having paid no mind to Denki, continued firing. While they dropped like flies that didn’t stop them from coming, though he did notice some had gotten distracted and went backwards.

“C’mon!” Denki grunted out as he tried to shove the sodas onto the dead. He had put his whole weight on it as it was heavy and just barely could he feel it move inches. As soon as it had put its weight onto the edge he could feel it tipping. He then slammed himself and let out a grin as the sodas fell on top of the dead. A big crash was heard and sodas exploded, wetting everything around it. The noise had the group startled as they turned to see what was the cause of it.

“Thanks.” Shoto said to his friend, almost astounded at how quick Denki thought. Turns out he would have been fine without needing people in his life. It was only then that he had noticed Izuku wasn’t around. He glanced around him, his thoughts began to pour as he feared the worst, “Where’s Izuku?!”

F/n finished the last dead as she too looked around. From the corner of her eyes she saw a dash of green and looking towards it she noticed Izuku inside the freezer where they had previously gotten the frozen vegetables. She could slightly see him as he waved at something ahead of him. Squinting, she also looked at whatever he was looking at before her eyes widened as she saw him motioning to at least a dozen rotters, so they followed him. They crashed into each other, trying to reach the freckled male.

“Izuku!” She quickly ran towards the freezer. With the entrance having rotters flooding in, there was no way out for him unless he chose to dive underneath the frozen food rack. At the frantic of her voice, one that was unusual to his hear, Katsuki glanced their way, before running after her, “Are you fucking insane, Deku!?”

Before they could open the door, Izuku shook his head at them. He had a plan to trap them in here and he didn’t want the dead to lose their focus. Yes, it was a risky plan, but this was better as they could kill them by sticking their knives through the cracks of the rack.

“Shouldn’t we help him?” Eijiro asked as he got off the rack, his tone was placed with worry.

“He doesn’t have a weapon or does he?” Denki listened to the muffle groans. It sent shivers down his spine, knowing that they must be hungry. But do the rotters even get hungry?

“A knife.” Shoto then went to the end of the freezer where he then opened a door, the others soon following and then helping him. He quietly spoke and carefully moved unfrozen products off the racks, so that the rotters didn't get distracted and Izuku could continue to do his thing, “Hurry and help me before he reaches here.”

Eijiro grabbed the boxes that Shoto gave to him. He threw it behind him while the others waited if they needed to take action. They did also keep an eye out in case a rotter tried to sneak on them and no doubt Izuku was terrified. The closer the dead inched towards him, he saw himself on death's door. He was stupid for coming up with this plan. He just wanted to try to be useful even if he dies, but damn, he was really, really fucking scared. It's not like those times where he had gotten close to them and killed them. He was trapped, with only an end he wasn’t even sure would get him out.

“C’mon, get closer.” Izuku whispered to them as he continued to wave his hand. He would stop to let them catch up and to not lose interest, but with blood coursing through a body and was practically giving himself to the rotters, of course they wouldn’t get distracted. He looked behind to see that his friends were giving him a way out. Once he almost reached the end he quickly ran towards the small space, trying to fit his body through. He underestimated how slow the rotters were as they quickly caught up.

“Get your ass out of there!” Katsuki harshly pulled on him.

“Om my god, oh my god, oh my god–” Denki bit his nails as he watched the rotters right behind Izuku.

“Shut it, Denki!” The group said as they anxiously tried to help their friend.

When he felt a hand grab his ankle, Izuku shivered. He didn’t have time to think of negative thoughts as he was then dragged out and the slam of the freezer closing behind him. He was on hands and knees letting out shaky breaths with sweat rolling down to the cement floor and eyes wide as he couldn’t believe he had just escaped. He stayed still before properly sitting and looked down at his feet, noticing his right shoe was missing.

“You damn moron!” Katsuki smacked Izuku’s head, “You have any idea how bad your shitty idea could’ve been!?”

“The hells the matter with you.” F/n crossed her arms, glaring at him. She would be lying if she didn't feel her heart race in both ways, “You could’ve told us! We would have thought of a better idea instead of you playing bait.”

Izuku embarrassingly scratched his head, “I had to think fast. There was no way we could’ve all taken them down.”

“How did you even manage to get into the freezer?” Denki asked as he looked ahead to where he had previously dropped the crate of sodas.

“Eijiro and Shoto left an opening for me.” Izuku got up to his feet, “They didn’t realize they had.”

The three looked at the red head and the dual-haired male. They too embarrassingly looked away, muttering a small apology.

“Still.” F/n placed her eyes on Izuku, examining him as he continued to sit, “With so many bodies you could’ve died. We didn’t even see you.”

“Yeah, sor–” Katsuki let out a scoff, eyes glaring down at his childhood friend with arms crossed, a hint of concern in his voice, “Never do that again, Deku. Don’t forget you only have one life. Quit playing with it like you'll be given a second chance.”

The freckle male looked away, lips twitching, feeling rather disappointed in himself, “I got, alright? Sorry.”

“Izuku knows his rights and wrongs.” Shaking his head, Shoto grabbed his pistol from the duffel bag as his knife had given up on him, “We should keep going.”

“Agreed.” Eijiro nodded, adjusting his gun.

Giving one final look to Izuku, he waited until the freckle male stood in front of him, shoving him forward so he wasn’t behind him. It was a death scare to see him locked inside a freezer. He didn’t have to think he’d need to keep an eye on Izuku as well. Leaving the muffled groans and moans from the rotters locked in the fridge behind they continued. Hopefully, the glass door wouldn’t crack as they pushed into each other. 

[geraltofriviacollection]

Chapter Six

Paring: Geralt x Reader

Summary: Reader is thrown into the Witcher’s world. Will she survive? Eventual smut may come about😉

A/N: This is the first part in a series. I have not edited or proofread. Please do not repost, translate or copy my work without permission. Please leave comments! ❤️

Things seem to settle into a routine. Ciri spends most of her days training with Geralt when she’s not watching me train with Vesemir. I can hold a steady orb of energy and bring it forth with ease. Tapping into the power I had the night I killed Eskel……

The knot in my stomach tightens watching Ciri train. I fear Geralt may not be enough to pull her back from the edge. Seeing her on the obstacle course makes me nervous. Watching her fall off and stand back up in pain makes me proud of her endurance. Geralt walks with her disappearing into the keep. 

A short time later I start to enter the room where Geralt is bandaging her up but ciri comes flying from the room like a bat out of hell. I start to ask if she’s alright but before the words have left she is already far down the hall. 

I turn going into the room and see Geralt kneeling by the bed and he sighs. “Do I want to know what that whole thing was about?” I ask walking further into the room.  He sighs again at my question. “So I am going to take a shot in the dark and guess that you tried to show that you care by imparting a valuable lesson and ended up saying something stupid with all 10 words you use. Did I miss something?” I challenge. 

“Must you always be like this? Such a pain in my ass.” He growls.

“Well I haven’t made any plans on changing but we shall see where the day takes us. Now spill, what did you say to her?” I ask to get back to the point. 

He looks at me for another moment before sighing and moving to sit on the bed. “I told her that she is not a Witcher and that great fighters all end up dead in the end.” He explains looking up at me. This time it's my turn to sigh. “I only told her the truth.”

“Next time less truth would be good.” I say moving to sit next to him I gently place my hand on his as he doesn’t move it from mine. “You may have told her the truth but you also managed to tell her that you don’t believe she can do it.” I told him. 

“I do believe that she will die if she doesn’t understand she isn’t a Witcher. I will not have her die to prove a point.” He says. 

“Geralt, She has lost everything she has ever known in a matter of months. She is trying to figure out her new place in this world. This is not Ciri proving a point, this is Ciri figuring out who she is again. Our job is to keep her safe while she does that. We won’t let anything happen to her. You just need to learn how to be a tiny bit softer with her.” I tell him. He sighs and squeezes my hand. “Now my next piece of advice is that you go and maybe try to talk to her again.”

A few days later I wake up with a strange pit in my stomach like something is about to change. Almost like smelling the wind before rain. In the afternoon I’m still with Vesemir practicing. I’ve learned how to throw balls of energy in my hands at a target. However my aim still has much to be desired so hitting the target is not going well. 

“Lass, I don’t think I have ever seen someone so bad at something.” He frowns at me stroking a hand down his face. 

“You say that and yet I know how you feel when Everard tries to cook a meal.” I joke wiping sweat from my brow. He laughs as he hands me water. I hop up on one of the benches in the lab. “Ves?”

“I thought we agreed that name would not be spoken aloud again.” He mumbles working on something next to me. 

“I agreed not to speak that name aloud in front of others, since I am your new favorite you have agreed to indulge me.” I grin at him. He rolls his eyes at me. 

“What is it you want to know, Lass?” He smirks. 

“Why aren’t there any woman Witcher’s?” The question hangs in the air before he responds. 

“Over the years since the Witchers came to be, women have been put in the trials. Not a single one of them have survived. Deglan believed it had something to do with the-“ 

I tense as I feel something in the air has shifted. 

“What is it, Lass?” Vesesmir interrupts himself. 

“I don’t know. Something has shifted. I can’t tell much more than that.” I stumble through my explanation. Vesemir comes in front of me and tilts my head side to side. Just then my stomach rumbles quite loudly. He smiles. 

“I think we may have found the problem.” He laughs. We walked down to the great hall only to find Lambert there. Vesemir walks over to talk to him and I naturally go in the other direction considering…. Well everything.

The door opens and Ciri comes in first with a red headed woman behind her and Geralt coming in last. She looks familiar and very pretty. I can seem to place her name. 

“I brought dinner," he says with a dead boar on his shoulders. The rumbling in my stomach halts like a foot slamming in the brakes looking at that thing. A very familiar feeling arises down south the longer I look at Geralt holding that boar. 

“More than that.” Vesemir says breaking my creepy stare and He glances over at me before turning back to the woman. “My child, what a surprise.” He walks to her and she kisses his cheek hello. 

“Oh hell, haven’t even had my fill of grog yet and ,already the women are tripling.” Lambert says. “Merigold.”

“Lambert, I see your wounds have improved but your manners have not.” Light laughter fills the air. 

“I wish you had come sooner. We all could have used you.” Vesemir says to her. Sorrow and guilt make my throat and chest tighten. 

“Hopefully, we still can.” Geralt says, turning to look at me. I’m not at all fond of that problematic transition. Her eyes follow his and she sees me standing there. Ciri sees me for the first time and comes to join me at my side. I smile down at her before looking back up at Geralt and my eyes move back to the red headed woman. 

“I’m Triss. Geralt has told me about you on our walk here.” She smiles at me. I smile back at her. 

“I imagine it couldn’t have been very much, considering that he mainly communicates in grunts.” Ciri and Tris chuckle. 

“I think I might like her.” Tris says, looking at Geralt and them me. He rolls his eyes with a slight uptick in my mouth. “It’s very nice to meet you.” She smiles again at me. “I’ll go and dress for dinner. I assume you’ll want to wash up as well?” She says to everyone. Chuckles go around again. She takes that as a no before leaving the room. 

Ciri takes a seat. “So, How do you know her?” She ask Geralt. He sighs and I smirk before intervening. 

“I'm sure he will tell you all about it after you have washed up.” I tell her. She gives me a look that calls bullshit. “Okay maybe not but that does not change the fact that if you sit here much longer you might smell worse than that boar.” Ciri grunts in discontentment before leaving the room as well.  “You know she gets that from you.” I smirk at him. He rolls his eyes again before walking off leaving me. 

Dinner with Triss is a rather uneventful occasion. I learned enough to know that I like having another female in the keep. Even though we are still woefully outnumbered, the energy has shifted into peaceful uncertainty. Something still feels like teetering on the edge of chaos like a shoe waiting to fall.

I leave the table first, stealing myself away to the armory. I stay there practicing controlling this power to avoid sleeping. The nightmares for killing Eskel haunt me when I close my eyes. Watching the life drain from him is the only part that seems to be crystal clear in my memory. My only hope at night is to push myself hard enough to have dreamless sleep.

 My fear of dreaming is not the only thing that keeps me awake at night. The longer I stay the more I have begun to feel some of my memories of the storyline fade. Not big things but smaller details. I can’t help but to feel purposeful. 

It’s late into the night by the time I leave to head to my room. I am about to turn the corner when I hear voices across the way. 

“If it’s up to me, everyone will know their names.Perhaps  they can live on in our memories. Perhaps something more.” I recognize Triss speaking. “You witchers pretend not to have emotions, but you do. I know you feel it too. All of it. Normal love, normal hatred,normal pain, normal fear and regret, normal joy and normal sadness.” I peak around the corner and across the courtyard I see Triss taking Geralt's hand in hers. “Stay with me tonight.” She says. Geralt starts to talk but Triss cuts him off. “Only stay. Let’s not be alone.” she says. 

‘Nope, don’t like that.’ I think to myself watching this unfold in front of me. I try to suppress my inner psychotic dialogue and try to attempt being reasonable. Geralt probably is lonely and Triss is sad and beautiful. Maybe he should take her up on her offer… Yeah fuck that I’m still not liking it. Just as I’m about to run over to break up whatever the hell this is, Geralt takes his hand from Triss. 

“I’m sorry.” Geralt says before walking away from her. Triss stands there a moment before walking away. I let out a sigh of relief when I heard a voice behind me and nearly hit the ceiling at the abrupt sound. 

“So are you going to tell him?” Vesemir ask once I have calmed down from my near heart attack. 

“Damn it Ves! I almost woke up the whole keep with you coming behind me like that.” I whisper yell at him. 

“From the looks of it you were about to wake the keep by fighting one of the best mages I know.” He said teasingly. 

“I don’t know what you're talking about, old man.” I say lying like a rug through my teeth and starting to turn back around. 

“You and I both know you have feelings for him. I think he might return them if you tell him.” He says, causing me to pause. I nod my head before going to my room.

The next morning I leave the keep on Roach to find a berry patch. I’ve managed to half way fill the basket when I feel the string between ciri and I tighten. The feeling travels through me so abruptly I drop my basket berries and the glow starts. I leave the basket and mount Roach and we rush back to the keep. When we finally make it back I push the reins into Lambert's hand rushing in not even hearing what he says.  I run through the halls and find her in her bed. Geralt standing next to her and Triss sitting on the edge of her bed. 

“I felt it. What happened?” I ask them but panting. 

“She went into some weird trance and passed out a second later.” Geralt explains. 

“What do you mean you felt it?” Triss asks me. 

“How long has she been like this?” I hiss looking between Geralt and Triss.

“Not long.” He tells me. I lean down and the second my hand brushes her cheek her eyes open and I jump a bit at the movement. 

“Cirilla” Geralt calls out to her moving closer. I back up and give her room to sit up. “

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” she repeats covering her face with her hands. Geralt looks at Triss before looking between Ciri and I. 

“Ciri, look at me.” I say to her firmly but gently. “You need to tell us what happened.” I say moving to wrap an arm around her. She leans into me but stays quiet. Geralt comes even closer. 

“You are brave. But let us help.” He says looking at her. She finally moves her hands from her face. 

“All right.” She sighs. “When the black Knight captured me..I was scared. I screamed. 

And that’s when the monolith cracked and fell.” She pauses and looks up at Geralt. “I toppled it.” I hugged her closer to me. I can feel the way she trembles as I hold her. 

“How can that be?” Triss ask looking at Geralt. 

“I don’t know.” Geralt replies. “I need to see it for myself.”

“I really didn’t mean to do it, Geralt.” She says pulling away from me and I can see the tears in her eyes. My chest tightens at the sight. “And if these monsters are my fault…” She trails off looking at me.

“Ciri, Nobody blames you. It was an accident.” I tell her pulling her back to me and she fully sinks in my embrace. A lone tear streaks down her pale face. 

“It’s alright. We’ll fix it.” Geralt says placing a hand on her arm not cuddled into me. She nodded her head before closing her eyes as a few more tears fall. I look up at Geralt and the look on his face tell me we need to talk. He walks out of the room. 

Tris leaves shortly after. Ciri and I sit together until the trembling stops and the tears have dried. I stay until her breathing has evened out and her eyes have closed. I pull away from her as gently as I can so I don’t wake her. 

I leave Ciri to find Geralt only to overhear another somewhat intimate conversation. 

“You are important to me, Triss. You always will be.” He says. I decide that is a good time to make my entrance because well I have heard enough of that. 

“Care to fill me in on what you plan is big guy?” I ask him walking in and effectively smashing whatever fucking vibe was just in the air.

“You’re going to Cintra.” Vesemir says, rounding the corner behind Geralt. 

“Cintra?” I question.

“You said you’d never go back there.” Vesemir says to Geralt.

“Cintra holds the answers that I need.” He says, looking at me. “Besides, no Witcher has died of old age lying in his bed dictating his will. I have a girl to protect. I can’t just stay here.”

“I have a friend who studies monoliths. I can portal you to him.” Triss offers. 

“Portals are no fun.” Is all Geralt says. 

“Do you think you could excuse us for a moment?” I ask looking at Vesemir and Triss. They both nod before leaving us. “How long will you be gone?” I ask him.

“Not long enough that you will not be annoyed with all my grunting when I come back.” He says with a slight uptick in his smile as he takes a couple of steps closer to me. 

“Under different circumstances I might not mind your grunting so much.” The words fly out of my mouth before I can catch them. I feel my face get hot. I take a look at Geralt to find an amused sort of smirky smile on his face. “I mean I wanted an answer in hours to days.”

Geralt is close enough that I can feel his body heat as he looks down at me. “A few days. Less than a week.” He says softly.

@freegardenbanananeck

[jasntodds]

Petrichor Chapter 12 Teaser - Full Chapter coming 11/08

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb) Teaser Words: 1,834 Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, blood, violence, canon violence, manipulation, gunshot wounds, mentions of drug use, reader is fed the fuck up, description of withdrawal Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞ Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now. A/N: I've really been looking forward to this chapter and it's because of this scene lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

Tim is about to start talking all over again with even more enthusiasm and proof but he gets a look at your face, eying the men as they walk further into the restaurant. Maybe you're just paranoid but they look like they’re up to something. It’s that their walk is steady, determined, but careless. Their eyes don’t land on the menu or Tim or Mr. Drake. They’re pointed at the register. And that’s when you see the reflection of metal sticking out of the last guy’s waistband. He looks to you and then it starts.

The throbbing kicks in like a freight train. It’s an armed robbery and they plan to go out swinging. You're quick, rushing to Tim as they pull out their guns. Gunfire surrounds and encompasses the restaurant as you tackle Tim to the floor behind one of the counters.

Tim leans against the counter, ducking his head with every echo of a gunshot. His eyes are on you as you take a breath, as if to be debating what you're going to do. And Tim knows you knew this would happen. You were running to him before they had their guns pulled. And his thoughts are confirmed when you look back to him with fury in your eyes.

It's been less than five seconds but it gives you enough time to gather yourself. It's all you need. These people are not going to walk in here and murder the people you care about. They picked the wrong restaurant on the wrong night during one of the worst months of your life.

You lift your hoodie, pulling a knife from the belt around your waist before you pop up from behind the counter.

“Ya fucking missed, assholes!” You yell over at them as the knife leaves your fingers, connecting with one of the guys’ eyes, embedding itself deep into his skull as he drops to the ground.

The throbbing starts again from the side and you duck down just before a shot comes your way. You take another deep breath before grabbing another two knives and throwing one, hitting one of their jugulars. The last one still standing locks eyes with you, his gun pointed right at you. He has this...grin, one you almost swear you've seen before but you've never seen him before this. His breathing is steady and he actually looks relaxed while you have your arm ready and aimed with a knife, right at him.

His pupils are blown.

And then your heart sinks because Crane is free on the streets and these guys came in here completely fearless. This one finds the whole damn thing amusing. Maybe he's just high on something else, or maybe you're right and Jason and Crane have moved to disruption. Excellent Gotham wouldn't just be a coincidence.

“Give me the money and it’ll be over.” He says so easily you nearly roll your eyes.

“Kiss my ass.” You throw the knife, hitting this one in the arm with the gun. Then you throw another one, hitting him just below the eye. He drops to the ground in a hard thump, leaving the restaurant a glass and gun-shelled mess. The smell of gun metal seeps into the air while an eery and dense silence consumes the place.

Tim calls your name not ten seconds after the last man drops. There's panic in his voice, a sense of dread. You rush right over to him where he's against the food counter now, his dad leaning against the side of it. Blood seeps through Tim's hands are he tries to hold pressure on the wound. You kneel down, seeing Mr. Drake breathing heavily. Your eyes scan over him, quickly running over the crash course Jason gave you in gunshot wounds once.

“He’s been shot!” Tim yells, desperation in his eyes as he looks to you.

"Okay, move." You urge as Tim pulls his hands away. You lift Mr. Drake's shirt, seeing the wound oozing and you think you might prefer knife wounds instead of gaping holes. "It's gonna take the ambulance ten to fifteen to get here," You rush out. "So, we--"

"Is that...?" Tim asks, cutting you off as his eyes are on the window. He only even looked up to see if he saw someone for help or Stephen but instead of help, he just saw one person.

Jason Todd.

You look up just in time to catch a glimpse of him before he turns around. This cannot really be happening right now.

“Okay, keep pressure.” You look to the door, seeing Stephen rush in. “Stephen, call an ambulance and grab some towels!” You yell as you get to your feet. “Stay here, hold pressure with the towels. I’ll be right back.” Your words nearly slur together as they come out as fast as your mouth will let them,

You rush outside where you see Jason, his back facing the open windows of the restaurant. You can’t believe this. Of all the things he could do, of all the damn people in Gotham he could target, he really came for you. For your friend and his family. You can’t fucking do it anymore. This is insane. If he wants to go after Dick, fine. Sibling rivalry bullshit taken to an extreme. But this? This is targeting innocent fucking people.

“Jason!” You seethe as you approach him. “What. The. Fuck!?” You scream, nearly vibrating from the anger coursing through your veins.

But then Jason faces you.

The anger washes away as your mouth opens, looking for words. There are dark circles under his eyes, a hollowed expression of the charism that used to radiate off of him. Maybe it’s the dark lighting but you swear the green in his eyes is pale, his skin is pale. He looks like a shell of who he used to be. He’s been acting like it but now…he really looks the part and you're getting the idea that something really bad is happening.

Jason’s eyes are wide, tired, and exhausted but wide as he sees you come to a dead stop a few feet away from him. Why are you here? You're not supposed be here. He didn't see you inside of the restaurant. Not before the gunfire or after. How did he miss you? It can’t be you. He just wanted to show Crane he was right. He wanted to prove he could do this. He chose Excellent Gotham on purpose, a way to show Crane it’s a threat at you without being a real threat. He knows you went to Tim for help. You weren’t supposed to be here.

Jason questions your name, closing the rest of the distance between the two of you.

His hands immediately come to your face for just a second. He keeps his right hand on your cheek, while the other hand goes to your waist. His eyes scan you over quickly, desperate to make sure you weren’t hurt in the gunfire. He didn’t take the drug again yet, he was saving it for after. He’s scared. Panicked. Desperate and guilty. You have blood on your hands and on your clothes. Can’t be yourrs. Not you. 

Please not you

“Are you hurt?” Jason rushes but his voice is weak and fragile, echoed in pain.

You eye him and you're stuck between wanting to punch him and wanting to kiss him in hopes to make it all better again. He’s slipping so far away from you and you're scared how far he’s willing to fall. Crane is doing something to him. He has to because he didn’t look like this last night. He didn’t even seem like he cared this much last night. Right at this exact moment, he feels like the old Jason. And you nearly get sucked right back into his gravitational pull.

“What…” The venom is gone from your voice. “What is he doing to you?” You ask, your hand comes to to his face. Not him. Not again.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jason’s voice breaks.

“You know I’m always here. I was hanging out with Tim. Jason…what the hell is he giving you?” You look him over and you notice him favoring his leg. You haven’t seen him much since he’s been back from the dead but this is the first time since that first day you're noticing it. You always notice it.

“Are you hurt?” Jason asks again and he can feel his heartbeat in his throat. He wants to spit his own heart right onto the ground in hopes it’ll stop the pain in his chest.

“No. I’m fine. It’s not mine.” You urge, catching him glancing at your free hand. “Jason, what is Crane giving you?”

Jason shakes his head, dropping his other hand to your waist. He misses you. He’s been so damn high all the time, he’s been able to ignore the longing in his chest. The one who always swore was his heart searching for yours. He could ignore it with ease but Crane has been keeping the drug close to his chest and this batch isn’t very good. He can feel it more tonight. It’s wearing off quicker. He can feel the worry for you and the care and the fact he fucking misses you. And the guilt for everything that’s led you both here.

“Same shit.” Jason grits his teeth. “You took it, you know.” He hates the words leaving his lips because they sound bitter and angry but it’s not at you. He just wants you to be okay and he wants to get the fuck out of here.

“No.” You shake your head, your voice soft. “Are you sure it’s the same drug? Jason, you look…is he withholding it from you?” His skin is cold and clammy under your fingers and his hair is flatter than usual.

You've seen it, what withdrawal looks like. You saw it on the streets and that’s what Jason looks like. Why would Crane do that? He’s insane and he doesn’t actually give a shit about Jason but Jason has been doing all of his bidding. You figure Jason is here with the drug. That’s why he just stood here while Excellent Gotham was attacked, he probably gave it to them. Surely, that has to be part of the plan. But, if that's the case, then why does Jason look like he's been thrown headfirst into withdrawal? And why would Crane be doing this?

“Stay the fuck out of it. I have it. It’s the same shit. It’s fine.” Jason grits his teeth. He wants to break. He wants to lose it for the first time since that first day on the roof with you. It feels like it's been months since and it's only been a week. And you look at him with worry and fear and you have always had a way with getting Jason to breathe. But, he can't afford that right now. Not you. “Please.”

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[the-brothers]

Eleven Months

Almost a year had passed since your little brother's adoptions and Luffy's fifth birthday was approaching. The boys first holiday season and respective birthdays had gone well so far, despite Sabo's accident.

The little blonde was practically fully healed now and more comfortable in public with his waves finally at a length he wanted. He still had to deal with the occasional stare or inquisitive child, but he was coping much better than he had previously.

You were studying for final exams and currently on the outs with Shanks. He was enjoying college life a little too much for your taste resulting in a dramatic argument. Though he called everyday and flooded your AIM* and email, you were holding strong in your decision not to communicate with him.

Three days a week you had tutoring sessions with Mihawk, who was in college but made his living tutoring kids of all ages. Mid terms and finals were busy for him so sometimes you wouldn't be his only pupil.

On this particular day he'd asked you to meet him at the arcade downtown. He informed you he would have another student with him that wasn't studying so he needed to be entertained while the two of you worked. Since your younger brothers arrived you were used to studying in a distracting environment so you agreed.

You hummed to yourself making your way down the block to the arcade. Mihawk was easy to spot even from the entryway. He towered over almost everyone there.

"Hey, Hawky." you called as his gilded irises listlessly shifted toward you.

"F/N," he greeted ignoring the nickname he had begrudgingly accepted from you.

A kid, maybe seven or eight years old with a head of messy green hair stood next to him focused on his failing round in Tekken. He cursed under his breath as King absolutely demolished him. Your chuckle caught his attention making him turn from the machine.

Unamused brown eyes swayed up to meet your gaze as he frowned clearly annoyed with his tragic loss.

"This is my protege, Roronoa." Mihawk crossed his arms.

"Protege? That sounds serious." you commented before giving him your name.

"I'm gonna beat him one day." the boy announced gruffly.

"Good, he needs to be taken down a few notches." you winked.

"F/N." Mihawk muttered disapprovingly.

The boy flushed and clammed up turning back to start another round.

"I didn't know you were babysitting too. I'd give you some real work and let you watch my brothers." you chuckled as the two of you took a seat at some nearby tables.

"I'm not babysitting." the raven rolled his eyes, "He's in training and also a student. I usually have him on your off days. Let's not waste anymore time."

"You're always so fun." you shook your head getting your supplies from your bag.

After an hour of mock test questions and assistance with your homework your session was over. The two of you located Mihawk's pupil at the claw machine frowning as the machine dropped the plushie he was trying to retrieve before getting to the dropbox.

You stepped up next to the kid pulling a few quarters from your pocket, "Mind if I try? I'm pretty good at these."

The little greenette grunted and stepped away from the controls allowing you to successfully pick up the little green tiger he dropped. You reached into the box it was despensed into and picked it up.

"Here ya go greenie," you handed the tiger to him and ruffled his soft hair making him grimace.

"Thanks." he muttered stepping next to Mihawk.

____________

That weekend was Luffy's birthday party. Friday after school you were home alone with your younger brothers. They were playing while you were cleaning the house. You could hear them running up and down the stairs while you scrubbed the upstairs bathroom.

Their favorite thing to do was pretend they were pirates having to protect their treasure. Pops had even gotten them a chest to hide things they deemed precious. You noticed as you were finishing up that it had gotten quiet - which usually wasn't a good thing.

"Guys?" you called taking off your rubber gloves and stepping out of the bathroom.

Little poorly stifled giggles could be heard from downstairs.

"You better no-" as you reached the end of the hallway you slipped sending you head over tail down the staircase.

Some sort of slick substance covered your clothes as you rolled. Finally you came to a stop on your back on the bottom step surrounded by your brothers looking on with wide horrified eyes. For a moment your brain couldn't register what had just happened - you should've been in pain.

"Ace!" Sabo yelped in a shaky tone you hadn't heard.

"I-I didn't mean to! I didn't..."

Your attention shifted from the older two to Luffy as he touched your right hand.

Why did his fingers feel so much warmer than yours?

"It's ok, F/N."

The room began to spin as you only caught snippets of the boys conversation.

You came to in a small bright space that smelled like plastic and cleaning supplies. Marco leaned over you with a concerned expression.

"Pineapple?" you muttered dryly noticing he was still in uniform with his stethoscope draped around his neck.

Realization washed over you finally hearing the blaring siren.

The boys had called 911.

But you didn't remember getting hurt.

"F/N, can you hear me - yoi?" your older brother shined a penlight in your eyes making sure your pupils dilated.

"Y-yeah. I fell down the stairs."

"Good, so you remember what happened?" he asked.

"I just know I fell. I'm ok." you struggled to sit up before Marco pushed you back onto the gurney.

"You are not ok," he looked down toward your arm, "you have a compound fracture and some torn ligaments. You bled quite a bit from the fracture tearing through your skin."

"What?!" you raised your voice in panic realizing now that you couldn't feel your arm at all.

"It's alright, you're gonna be fine. I'm going to place this mask on your face, take deep slow breaths - yoi." he lowered an oxygen mask over your face and you did as instructed.

When you arrived at the hospital you were taken back to the ER to be assessed.

"I gotta stay with the littles until Pops gets here," Marco closed the curtain around your bed to give you privacy.

"Ok, they can't come back here?" you'd never been in the hospital let alone by yourself.

"Minors can't be back here unless they are a patient, like you. We'll be in the waiting room, if you need me tell a nurse. They know who I am."

You pouted and nodded as he slipped through the curtains.

Just when your pain medication was wearing off your father arrived. They explained that you would require surgery complete with steel plates and a long recovery process.

"I'll be right here when ya wake up lass," your father cupped your cheek attempting to soothe your anxiety.

You nodded as they raised the bars on the sides of the bed and began wheeling you toward the OR.

**For the youngins - AIM was Aol Instant Messenger. It was a big deal in the early 2000's. I always had the angstiest away messages**

[foxes-that-run]

Happily

In the 2019 Fine Line Rolling Stone interview While talking about Lights Up he said:

“‘Happily’ was the first time I saw my name in the credits. I liked that,” he says. “But I knew I’d only sing part of it. I knew if I wrote a really personal song, I wouldn’t sing it. It was like a safety net."

He also listed it as one of the 1D songs he loved to Rolling Stone after going solo:

He didn’t feel stifled in One D, he says, as much as interrupted. “We were touring all the time,” he recalls. “I wrote more as we went, especially on the last two albums.” There are songs from that period he loves, he says, like “Olivia” and “Stockholm Syndrome,” along with the earlier song “Happily.” “But I think it was tough to really delve in and find out who you are as a writer when you’re just kind of dipping your toe each time. We didn’t get the six months to see what kind of shit you can work with. To have time to live with a song, see what you love as a fan, chip at it, hone it and go for that  … it’s heaven.”

Savan Kotecha side quest

This is a side quest, the TLDNR of this part is I think Happily was started for Up All Night in mid-2012 and finished in 2013, feel free to scroll to the next section

Happily was written by Harry with Carl Falk and Savan Kotecha. Savan had a falling out with the band over the boys desire to write more on their records. His comments on the band are unpopular. He has remained close with Harry, continuing to praise him in interviews and he was at Harry's solo debut at the Troubadour in 2017.

It's not exactly clear when he left the band, often reported '2013', because Midnight Memories is made in Summer 2013. To Billboard (promoting 1D) in 12 December 2012, where Savan describes an 'Take me Home' style 1D rather than the Midnight Memories era:

“We wanted to make it very vanilla. You’re aiming for teens and tweens with boy-band guilty pleasure music. We weren’t trying to be urban or rhythmic"

9 weeks later on 6 February 2013 to Hollywood Reporter Savan was promoting himself rather than the band and no longer seemed to be working with 1D, referencing the tension he left over:

Sometimes they come in with an idea of who they are and who they want to be as artist, or if they want to be a songwriter but they really can’t write songs, or that kind of thing. 

In 2017 he described 'a funk' of a year after leaving the band:

whole letting the One Direction thing kind of go was a year of kind of trying to find myself again and sad cause it was super intense few years and and I lost a lot of confidence during that time and I think it was max help me get out of the funk but then yeah then Arianna sort of walked into my life.

His first Ariana project was a Christmas song in 2013, so long after. In Summary, Savan parted from the band very soon after Up All Night.

Back to Happily.

Savan said it was made for Midnight Memories, so after Take Me Home was completed in August 2012. (Maybe even sooner and considered too mature and not finished for Take me Home?)

With Harry was really interesting was Harry always from such a album - you really saw that he's a f***ing good writer yeah we did a song together for the third album the only thing we did for the third album and he was just this song Happily which I'm really proud of I think he is well that he was it wasn't like that thing where you're like writing down for the artist he was f***ing great.

All this to say, I think the hand she is holding is Conor Kennedy's rather than Tom O'Dell's.

Live Performances

Happily was song 7 for the first 8 shows on the OTRA tour. Harry looked upset in these performances, in the second last in Perth, you see Liam ask Harry "are you OK?" (at 1:01) on 20 February 2015. It was last played 24 February 2015 in Osaka, the day Taylor met Calvin Harris. It hasn't been on any of their solo sets. It was replaced by Stockholm Syndrome on 25 February.

Lyrics

[Harry] You don't understand, you don't understand What you do to me when you hold his hand We were meant to be but a twist of fate Made it so you had to walk away

What I love about this song is it has all the elements of their relationship in quite simple terms. In NYD, You are in Love and DBATC she sung about them being a book that was left unfinished, I think this open is a similar idea of ended too soon.

Taylor was photographed holding Conor Kennedy's hand and reported on the 18 August 2012, he was only seen with Taylor the next day and not again. Harry got his Never Gonna Dance Tattoo on the 22 August 2012, the song is about the cost of being unfaithful.

[Niall, Zayn] 'Cause we're on fire We are on fire

They were (are still) on fire:

[Harry] I don't care what people say when we're together You know I wanna be the one to hold you when you sleep I just want it to be you and I forever I know you wanna leave So c'mon baby be with me So happily

These articles are all within 6 months of them going public, imagine one of these written about you at 18 or 22. Add to that each having an image worth 10s+ of millions of dollars to lots of people.

Happily "I don't care what people say",

I know places "Something happens when everybody finds out / See the vultures circling, dark clouds / Love's a fragile little flame, it could burn out"

DWOHT " People started talking, putting us through our paces / I knew there was no one in the world who could take it"

Adore You "I'd walk the fire for you",

Cowboy Like Me "Telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear / Like it could be love / I could be the way forward / Only if they pay for it", and

Little Freak "Somehow, you've become some paranoia, A wet dream just dangling"

honestly, this list of lyrics could get real long so I'll stop.

Makes total sense for them. This doesn't mean it would not be harder still for them to come out, it totally would, and I am there for it if either do. What I can see is, either way is this is not welcoming. This is also just print media. Some fandoms are loud.

[Liam] It's four a.m. and I know that you're with him I wonder if he knows that I touched your skin And if he feels my traces in your hair Sorry, love, but I don't really care

The lyric and context is almost the same as Taylor later sung in Delicate "Do the girls back home touch you like I do? Long night with your hands up in my hair"

[seancekitsch]

What would life be like between Richie and Reader after they survive the attack (richie and reader were ghostface) and kill the Carpenters.

hehe this is a part two of this one!!!

“Aaaaand we’re back from that ad read on maybe the most important episode of You Slash Me!” you say, in one of the clearest tones you’d been able to manage in a while. You look at the seat next to you, which Richie should be sitting in; instead he’s currently standing behind it, rolling his shoulder that still seizes up on him sometimes. You’d taken an entire month off from your podcast- hinting at something crazy to come. The listeners ate it up, especially after you posted a picture from a hospital bed in Woodsboro itself, Richie in the background of the selfie. They were all pretty savvy as far as a fanbase went and quickly put the pieces together when the news of a new Woodsboro massacre hit the trending top ten on twitter. Honestly, you would have been doing this earlier, had you not accidentally let Tara Carpenter get a hit in that broke your jaw. You shoot him a warning look as you lean back into the microphone.

“I know you all have questions, trust me, I’ve seen the community tab on Youtube,” you joke, “But I think I need my other half to help me answer all of them. My guest for this episode is Richie Kirsch, the other survivor of the latest in the Woodsboro murders and the reason I live to tell the tale!”

He quickly sucks his head towards his own mic set up, scrambling to sit in frame on cue.

“Thanks, beautiful, but I can’t take all the credit,” Richie aims a weak smile at you, knowing the little camera is set up with the ring light. He plays the part of fellow survivor well, knowing if there wasn’t a camera he’d be dragging you into his lap and beaming like the cat who caught the canary about all of this shit.

“Your film knowledge saved us more than once.”

Filming and recording takes over three hours, fully answering every one of the good faith intended questions that the listeners sent in while making sure it all added up to your alibi. Well, the truth, as far as the police know. Sam and Tara were crazy, a girl with bloodlust in her genes because of her psycho father and an intense influence over her honors student turned killer little sister. Richie was wheeled out of that house with a half slashed throat and a torso that looked like swiss cheese, and you were in a similar state with a broken jaw and a knife to the leg. You and Richie spent over a week in a hospital bed dealing with bedpans and poking and prodding from doctors and detectives alike while you discreetly flirted and gloated. The interruptions didn’t stop the two of you from conspiring even more. Hell, you even started writing the script for this episode while you couldn’t sleep one night in the hospital.

“You gonna come to bed soon?” Richie asks from the doorway, two glasses of red wine in his hand. You nod, jaw in pain from all of the talking you did today as you spin your chair away from your monitor. The podcast will suffer from your battle scars, but it was a small price to pay for an even bigger audience. You hear they’re already working trying to green light a movie based on your harrowing tale. Richie had told you he got an email addressed to the both of you a few days ago, but he refuses to answer until after this episode goes live.

Richie crosses the threshold into the room to hand you one of the glasses, a very fond smile in place of a thank you for him. He places a hand on your cheek, thumb brushing against your lips.

“Sore?”

You nod against his hand.

“Too sore to do a little…” he trails off as he looks up at the lights sheepishly as his tongue pushes out one of his cheeks, and you actually let out an audible laugh at that while you swat away his hand.

“Rich,” you whisper, and he relents, crouching down so he can lean his elbows on your thighs and get close to you while he sips his own wine.

“I know, I know,” he says, half into the wine, “I’m awful, but can you blame me?”

When he gulps his wine the slash on his throat twitches, still ugly and red despite it feeling like you’ve massaged endless amounts of scar cream onto his neck. You sip your wine as well, the sweet table wine Richie picked out because your favorite Malbec still too dry and painful for you to drink easily. Your nose scrunches as you swallow, and you give him an annoyed look.

“Stop looking so glum. We did it,” He sighs, his free arm finding its way around your waist to hug you.

You did do it, fantastically, you think. You bring your free arm around him as well and smile into your wine glass. Once the episode finishes rendering, it goes out to the masses. You’ll be faced with executives, paparazzi, probably a podcast tour, maybe a book deal… all with Richie by your side. And maybe he can make the movie, your movie.

Everything is about to change.