#and everyone is like who the HELL is in this tiny plane!!!!!!

[kingofattolia]

Thrawn making it back only to discover Luke Skywalker waiting for him smdhfhsmkshfjdjgh

[juletheghoul]

Castaways (Part 1)

AN: Before I get into the notes for this - I want to say a quick thank you to everyone who took the time to send me a message / comment on my post, it meant a lot to me. 💜💜💜 As for this story, I started writing it in Sept of 2022, after watching the Harrison Ford movie, Six Days, Seven Nights lol. I had a lot of it down pretty quickly but eventually, I stopped. Now that new ideas aren't as bountiful as they once were, I started combing through all of the half-finished works in my docs and I fell back in love with this one. Hopefully you enjoy it. I have an ending planned out so there will definitely be a part 2! Shout out to @wheresarizona for betaing and just general wonderfulness, to @just-here-for-the-moment for screaming at me through comments in this doc. Enjoy xox. 

Pairing; Frankie Morales x f!reader (Princess as a nickname)

Warnings;  C o m p e t e n c y - a very brief snake…encounter?-piv sex (wrap it up), swearing, dirty talk, Frankie eats pussy with gusto (when doesn't he), creampie, longing, yearning, a helicopter crash (nothing too graphic), reader is spoiled at first and generally kind of snobby- enemies to lovers? Bit of a slow burn! let me know if I missed anything.

Word count; 13k 😅

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist

The click of your heels sounded throughout the airy hangar with a purpose, the echoing sound of it heralding your journey to give someone—anyone hell. 

A quick flick of your wrist reminds you how late you already were for the retreat booked in your private slice of paradise; the private jet your father paid a fortune for had made an emergency stop in Puerto Rico- some nonsense about a storm. 

Unacceptable. 

An imperious sigh leaves your mouth -not a single person to lay into anywhere in sight, and it leaves you no choice but to head outside to see if there is a plane you could commandeer. 

—

He wipes the grease onto the legs of his well-worn work coveralls, his previous scowl gone and replaced with a triumphant smile - finally got that fucking bolt off-

“Excuse me-” He turns toward the sound and is greeted by a very annoyed-looking woman. “Hi, do you know where I can find a pilot? There’s no one in the hangar.” She drags a very expensive-looking suitcase behind her with one hand, the other holding a ridiculously large hat onto her head. 

“Hi, yes I’m a pilot - most of the staff have gone home, a big storm coming soon-”

“Perfect, can I hire you to fly me to this island?” Her fingers flew across the no-doubt latest model of smartphone in her hands - ignoring the shocked expression on his face at being so rudely interrupted. “This one here, I need to be there like three hours ago, and I would be there now if we hadn’t stopped here - you know where this is, right? Can you take me?” She all but shoves the phone into his face. 

“No.” He carefully moves her manicured hand away from his face, and a tiny, cruel little part of him enjoys the shock in her expression - he very quickly gets the impression that this girl is not used to hearing the word. “As I was saying - everyone has gone home, a lot of people were grounded here, myself included. There is a big thunderstorm coming. Not safe to fly until it passes. Shouldn’t last too long - a quick squall - come back tomorrow, and I’ll happily fly you there.” He then turns to continue his work. 

“Money is no object, but I need to leave now,” she says it through a huffed breath, and his eyebrows raise. 

“And yet, my answer is still no.” He’s annoyed now. In truth, it was a fairly quick flight - he knew the island she’d shown him, had made the trip before, and it would be less than an hour, but her attitude was a black mark against her. Her phone trills then, a cheery tone, momentarily snatching her attention from him. 

“Hi, Dad, yeah, I know. I’m at the hangar, looking for a ride.” She taps her foot, and it sets his teeth on edge. “There is a pilot here, but he says he won’t fly me.” She narrows her eyes at him when he turns to look at her, listening to the other half of the conversation he wasn’t privy to. “I’ll tell him- Sorry-” She inspects his name tag, “Francisco, my father says if you get me to the island within the hour, he’ll make it worth your while. Name your price.” 

“I don’t know what part of it isn’t safe isn’t registering-” She raises her voice and speaks over him. 

“He’ll pay you ten thousand dollars.” Her tone is loud but bored. “Besides - the skies are gorgeous - I’m sure we can make it before anything happens.” She waits a moment, “Plus another five grand when you land. And you can have accommodations until tomorrow - room service, the works. Just please - get me there.” Her eyes are hopeful, and for a brief moment, he acknowledges how pretty she is, or - would be, if she wasn’t such an insufferable princess.

He knew he should have said no. Knew he should have turned her down and followed the guidelines, but that kind of money would change his life. Change their lives- it would have been insane for him to turn it down. 

“Fine.” He relents, shoving down the heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. “I’ll be your pilot. We’ll be out of here in ten minutes.” She almost jumps with joy, and he can’t hide the annoyed expression on his face.

“Done - okay, I’ll be there soon, Dad! Bye.”  

-

He was covered in grease. 

You had to remind yourself not to wrinkle your nose at him. You supposed he could be handsome, in a scruffy, working man way, but that's beside the point. He was your saving grace right now, and that counted for a lot.

He fiddles with the engine of the helicopter for a moment more while he leaves you to wrestle your suitcase in by yourself, thankfully without breaking a nail. 

“Alright - just going to perform a couple of checks, and we’ll be in the air.” He got in and began flicking switches, turning knobs, and checking over all manner of gauges while you made yourself as comfortable as was possible in the cramped little aircraft. It was hard, though, with your suitcase practically digging into your back behind you. 

It’s fine. I’ll just have to get a massage once I land.

“Okay, we’re off.” He has his headset on, and you are in the air within a few moments. That, unfortunately, seemed to be the end of your good luck. 

Whether by some cruel design, by the fates or gods, or whatever entity dictated the events of your life - it didn’t take twenty minutes in the air for the sky to turn a foreboding gray. 

“That doesn’t look good,” he says, the words loud enough to be heard over the noise, his eyes quickly scanning the horizon, no doubt taking in the dark clouds flanking either side of the already rickety helicopter. 

“It came out of nowhere.” One minute, the sky was blue, and the next, lightning forked the sky in the distance. 

“No, it didn’t - I told you a storm was coming. This is too dangerous - I’m going to have to turn around for our safety.” He maneuvers the controls, and you have no choice but to agree despite your annoyance.

It all happened so fast. 

Something strikes the aircraft, the sound of it booming in your ears so loud it hurts, and then he’s frantic. Manically pressing buttons and calling through the radio, but from the frustrated and frankly terrified expression, no one is answering. 

“Fuck, tighten your seatbelt, we’re going down!” He grits his teeth, and all of a sudden, you are spinning, a scream being ripped from your throat - your heart falling out of your ass. “Impact coming - brace yourself!” he screams before the world goes black. 

-

Someone is making noise, a low groaning noise that pulls him out from the depths of unconsciousness, he’s only mildly surprised to realize it is him.

The helicopter - his helicopter wasn’t making any noise, which was bad. 

Under normal circumstances, it would be broadcasting out a signal beacon that would bring in a rescue team, but as it stood right now - without blinking lights or a working radio - it had gone completely silent. 

Lighting must have fried it. Fuck.

He took stock of his situation. Luckily, he doesn’t feel any injuries aside from horrible whiplash. No blood, no broken bones. A softer groan comes from the woman beside him; she’s still out, and he couldn’t see any injuries- he’d know when she woke up. 

I could kill you right now.

He thought the words, sighing loudly to himself before finding a way out of the cockpit. He’d managed to move most of what he had in the helicopter out onto the sand by the time she woke. 

“Jesus Christ - what the hell happened?” She stumbles out, barely managing to stop herself from eating shit in the process, unfortunately.

“What happened is the storm I warned you about many times caught us in the air and grounded us here.” He’s laying out his supplies, lengths of rope, his toolbox, and empty water jugs. He has a small case with a flare gun, an emergency kit filled with first aid supplies, and a massive tarp. There are a few more things to go through, but it is important they find a source of freshwater soon, or they won’t last two days, especially with the heat making his clothes stick to his body.

She sighs loudly, struggling to make her way through the sand in those ridiculous heels she’s wearing

“And now we’re stuck here, on an island when, where I should be, is home with my-“ 

“Can’t you call mayday or something? My father is expecting me. I’m sure he’ll have an army looking for us.” She’s digging through her purse frantically, ignoring the scathing look he’s giving her.

Spoiled little brat, you only care about yourself, huh?

“Wow. You know what? That’s a great idea! Why the hell didn’t I think of that?” He can’t hold back. “Oh! I know, it’s because we were struck by lightning, and it fried everything, so whatever army your father sends won’t find us -there is no signal to hone in on.” He scowls at her, annoyed that she isn’t paying attention to him even now. “Doesn’t help that a lot of these islands that are usually full of tourists are uninhabited after the hurricane that hit a few months ago.”

“So we’re stuck here???” Her eyes are wild as they look past him, to the beach just beyond, and then to the thick greenery behind them. “This cannot be happening right now,” she spoke to herself. 

“Where the fuck is my phone??” She moves and makes her way back into the cockpit, all but ripping the aircraft apart before- “Fuck! You have got to be fucking kidding me! Don’t you have some kind of satellite phone or something??” She’s tapping at the deeply damaged screen, it completely destroyed. 

He couldn’t help but bark out cruel laughter. 

“I don’t know what planet you’re on. People - regular people don’t just have satellite phones, sweetheart.” He got up from his place in the sand, making sure to put the flares back in the helicopter.

“Great. Just great.” She sighs loudly, “So we’re stuck here. Do you even know where here is?” She fishes into her bag once more, pulling out a bottle of what looks to be sunscreen, and squeezing out some to spread over her exposed skin. 

“No. I don’t, but the heat is going to kill us if we don’t find water soon. Grab one of those jugs, and let’s go find water. You might want to change your shoes.” He pushes her suitcase at her, ignoring the shocked look on her face. “Chop chop, princess, let’s move.” 

-

This couldn’t be happening, this could not be happening!

Right now, you should have been mingling with Louis, the gorgeous, billionaire bachelor your father invited to your private resort. You could almost picture it, the classy yet sexy outfit you’d be wearing while you flirted over a drink by the infinity pool. Broadening your horizons and nailing down the rich husband you deserve.

Instead, you’re here - stuck in the sand with the world's grumpiest pilot, trying desperately to get your phone to work, but it’s no use. 

You can almost see the frantic look on your mother's face now that it was obvious that you hadn’t made it at the scheduled time, she and your father were probably coordinating with the military right this second, with the Navy.

What the fuck am I going to do-

The jug hits your lap, scaring you half to death.

“Come on, princess, let’s get moving. We have to find fresh water before we die of dehydration out here.” He’s standing a few feet away, staring at you with his perpetual scowl. “Change your shoes, and let’s go.”

“What’s wrong with my shoes?” They were pretty sensible as far as your sandals went, respectable heels, and relatively comfortable. His scowl deepens.

“You cannot stumble around the island in those, you’ll break an ankle, and I am not fucking dealing with that.” His eyes narrow. “Tell me you brought a pair of runners in that giant trunk.”

“Of course I did,” your tone is icy as you get up with a huff. You quickly changed into them, and then you were off. 

The terrain got more and more treacherous the further you got from the powdery white sand of the beach. Dirt and bramble gave way to thick, almost jungle-like vegetation, making the trek harder and harder as time slogged by. 

The sound of running water greets the two of you like a siren song, spurring your tired, sweat-soaked body to move quicker, and the sight that meets you once you break the dense treeline could've made you moan. You jump into the water to cool your heated skin, ignoring the warning from Francisco. 

“You should get out of there.” He’s at the edge of the clearish water, filling the jugs quickly.

He seems to be determined to infuse his sour attitude into everything, your mouth opened to tell him to relax when something brushes past your leg. At first, you think it might be a piece of underwater flora, but it becomes apparent very quickly that it’s something far worse. 

“Francisco.” His eyes met yours, “Francisco, something just swam into my shorts, I-I think it’s a snake.” Your voice trembles slightly, hands itching to pull whatever it was out, but his voice cuts through the urge.

“Don’t move- are you sure it’s a snake?” He put the jugs down beside him, moving closer to you, descending slowly into the water.

“Yes, It’s coiling around my thigh, moving up - I need it out right now, I wanna just grab it-“ Your head tilts down, but he stops you.

“Don’t move! It could be venomous.” He wades into the water towards you slowly, too slowly. Your heart’s racing, hands shaking as you wait for him to reach you.

“Help me, get it out, get it out!” your voice is almost manic, desperation colouring every single inch of you. 

“Okay, okay, calm - deep breath.” You followed his example as best you could, trying yet failing to ignore the slithering against your skin. “Slowly pull your waistband away from your body, and I’ll see if I can grab it,” his tone had lowered, a soothing timbre reminding you for a moment of how a teacher would speak to a student. 

It helps.

You did as he asked, pulling at the waistband of your shorts, all thoughts of propriety forgotten, and within a moment, his hand was shoved down deep - a rather large hand fighting with whatever it was that had made camp in your pants. 

He bit his lip in concentration, bodily pulling you towards him as he struggled. A moment later, he was raising it up triumphantly.

A huge shiver went down your spine at the sight of it, spurring you to get out of the water as fast as humanly possible. 

“Jesus Christ, it’s just one fucking thing after another,” you spoke as you made it out without incident, ignoring the huge sigh he let out behind you. “Thank you for that.” He was following closely behind you, not interested, it seemed, in having a similar experience.

“Don’t mention it. Let's fill these and get back to the beach.” He hands you a couple of empty jugs, and you reluctantly got to work.

-

All things considered, they were lucky. Frankie knew that. His helicopter - albeit small - was surprisingly well-equipped to handle being stranded. He had an emergency survival kit, purchased partly under the insistence of his mother but mostly so he never had to relive what had happened to him a few years ago. He’d tried not to think about it, but walking through the foliage back to the crash site had brought it all back. Vividly. 

He pushed it away, shoved it down deep where he kept the rest of his issues - instead choosing to focus on what they needed to do. They needed some form of shelter, and soon. 

“I am sweltering,” her voice was low behind him, whiny with the distinct tone of someone who had never truly been uncomfortable a day in her life. “Fucking starving.” 

“Most likely, you’re dehydrated. Once we get back to the beach, we can figure out the water,” he spoke over his shoulder. “Have to make camp if we’re going to be here for a while.” They broke through the treeline, seeing his helicopter on the beach like a pile of old bones broke his heart a little - his only connection to home, to his little girl. He pushes it all away again. 

“So how do we get this water drinkable?” she huffs out the words, dropping the jugs next to his laid-out supplies with great effort. 

“We have to set up a purifying system, filter it, and then boil it.” He crouches down towards his supplies, looking for something clean he could use as a sieve. Luckily, he always kept an overnight bag with him, in case of being grounded somewhere, but he only had three shirts in there, he couldn’t burn one since he didn’t know exactly how long they’d be stuck there. 

“I don’t have much in terms of clothes - you got anything we could use?” He looks up at her, “Something simple, a cotton t-shirt? Something we could use to strain the water.” He walks towards her trunk, waiting for her to open it up. 

She opens it reluctantly, rifling through her things for a moment before handing over a simple white shirt. “Any chance I’ll be able to wear that again?” her voice is vaguely annoyed. 

“I’m sure Daddy won’t mind buying you a new one.” She gives him an expression that could curdle milk. He ignores it. Instead, he busies himself, setting the jugs of water somewhere relatively level. He felt her eyes on him, and it compelled him to explain what he did as he worked. “We have to let the water settle for about an hour, let the sediment sink to the bottom, then strain it, then boil it.” Not for the first time in his life, he was happy to have his military gear within reach. 

-

He works fast - you have to give him that. 

As much as he grumbles and looks at you like you are the devil incarnate - you couldn’t deny that he was incredibly intelligent. Within a few hours of getting back to the camp, he had built an impressive fire, filtered the jugs of water, and had boiled most of it. 

“Tomorrow, we’ll get to work building some sort of shelter,” he spoke after he finally sat down, the first break he’d taken all day. “Have to go about looking for food too, I saw some fruit trees - we’ll grab them on the way back from getting more water.” His eyes are heavy, you can see it in the way he blinked slower and slower. 

“We have to make that trek again?” your voice is shrill, he sighs loudly. 

“We’ll have to make that trek every single day until we’re rescued. Water is the most important thing. No delivery service here, princess,” his voice is sleepy, the usual bite in his words softened by the need for sleep. 

“How will anyone find us?” The worry is evident in your voice.

“I have a flare gun and three flares - we’ll be able to signal someone. Go to bed, we have a lot of work to do tomorrow.” He gestures to the helicopter–lovely, this will be comfortable. 

—

The knock on the helicopter window ripped you out of sleep, your heart racing as you clutched at your chest. 

“Wake up, princess.” He taps on the glass and through bleary eyes, you take note of the smile on his face as he wakes you up, “We have work to do.” He taps one last time and then leaves you. 

You flash him the middle finger as he turns and laughs, annoying you even more.

You join him on the beach a little later, ignoring the ache in your body from sleeping in a half seated position. God I really need that massage.

“I’m going to make the trek for more water, while I do that you are going to gather palm fronds.” He had a jug in his hand as he moved towards the treeline. For a moment you panicked, the thought of being alone causing your heart to sink. 

“Wait, you’re leaving me alone?” You moved a few steps towards him, catching yourself before making it to him. “I mean–um,” You raised your chin at the surprised look on his face, ignoring it. “How many fronds?” There was an abundance of them, both on the ground and in the trees just beyond the sand. He paused, giving you a curious look. 

“As many as you can, we’ll need way more than you think.” He turned then, and left you to it. 

Time crawled by while you were alone, with only your thoughts and the sound of waves to accompany you. Sweat dripped down your brow as you gathered, gathered and gathered some more. Enough fronds that it made a huge pile beside the fire pit Francisco had made. Your stomach growling almost constantly now–the hunger so intense it was making you light headed. 

Branches snapped, drawing your gaze towards his form. He had the jug in one hand and a stalk of bananas in the other. It was enough to make you moan. 

“This is good, but it’s not enough. We have to gather more - have to cut down a bunch of bamboo too.” He put the jug next to the others before joining you where you sat. “Here, you must be starving.” He ripped off a handful of the glorious fruit and tossed them into your lap. 

Nothing had ever tasted so good. 

“Jesus Christ, I thought I would pass out.” You knew you had fruit on your face, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. “Thank you.” You peeled another, eating it just as quickly as the first. 

“Don’t mention it. Okay, let's get to work.” 

-

Your fingers were sore, your back was sore, every single part of you was sore. Hours crawled by with the sun beating down on you both as you weaved fronds together. He had you create sheets and sheets of it, had you help him cut down enough bamboo to build a house. He did the heavy lifting and made what looked like a crude rope tying together the bamboo in layers strong enough to hold both of you. 

Wordlessly, he worked, the sweat dripping down his face, soaking through his shirt like a marathon runner until it was a hindrance and he took it off, used it as a rag that hung limp over his shoulders. This was much worse than a marathon, though, much worse than any workout you’d ever done in your life, and although you’d never say it out loud, you were incredibly thankful he was here. 

I probably would have died by now. 

It was a terrifying thought that without him, you wouldn’t survive - you shoved it away. It wouldn’t matter soon because your parents would be looking, and they wouldn’t stop until they found you.

“Come lay on this, I want to see if it’ll hold both of us.” He stood over the platform, laying on it as you came closer. It held. “Perfect. We’ll be elevated off the sand, less chance of bugs or crabs biting us, and it’ll be cooler than the helicopter.” He let out a weary, tired sigh.

“You’re expecting us both to sleep on this?” You couldn’t help your tone, and instantly you felt bad. He’d worked very hard on this. His brow furrowed. 

“You’re welcome to sleep where you want. I’ll be on this.” He got up, his scowl now back in place, “I’m going to finish here and then go fishing. Keep weaving.” 

Quietly, you got back to work.

-

In all his years, Francisco had never met someone so spoiled and self-serving - even though he’d expected it from her, it still hurt. He didn’t know why - why it would matter that some spoiled rich brat was acting like a spoiled rich brat; maybe it was the lack of gratitude. He was useful, he was smart and he had skills that he knew for a fact she’d die without. 

He stewed over it as he swam towards a large boulder protruding out of the water near the shore. A perfect spot to catch the fish that swam around in the reef below the surface. 

I should let her starve. Find her own food and her own water.

He wouldn’t, though, he couldn’t. All his life, he’d been taught to be a good person, to help where he could and after what had happened in that jungle - he shook it off, pushed it down. Ignored the cruel, petty voice in his head and set about catching something to eat. All the while keeping an eye on the horizon for a boat - for any sign that people were looking for him. That his people were looking for him. 

He let himself think about them, really think about them for the first time since the crash. His parents, his little girl, let himself feel the emptiness of being without them. He let the waves of it crash over him just as the ocean around him crashed into the shore, and then he put it away. 

She was still working when he came back with his catch, her face scrunched up in concentration - ignoring her, he went about doing what needed to be done.

“Is this enough?” Her voice cut through his concentration, and he nodded noncommittally - leaving the prepped fish on a relatively clean piece of driftwood he’d found.

“Hold this.” He stood at the corner of the raised bed and had her hold a tall, sturdy piece of bamboo. His plan was to make a small frame around the base, use the tarp in order to waterproof it, and lay the fronds all around to protect them from the winds that blew through here in bad weather.  

She watched him work in silence, standing where he told her to stand, holding what he told her to hold and eventually, finally - they finished. It was as solid a structure as he could manage without planks of wood or nails, strong enough to survive against a moderate storm and to keep them off the sand. 

He’d used the tarp to cover the roof and three sides, leaving one open for them - him to enter. On top were rows of fronds to catch rainwater and prevent it from pooling in the tarp, the rest of the unused woven sheets she’d made laid inside to use as bedding. With the emergency blanket and his military bedroll this would make a decent bed.

All in all, he was proud of himself, he took the raw materials he’d found on this island, and fashioned himself – themselves a shelter. 

His stomach growled. It was time to start that fire.

-

Your stomach was screaming out in hunger. The bananas had been wonderful, but they weren’t enough. 

“Are you sure that’s safe to eat?” You watched him wrap the fish in banana leaves and put it into red hot embers; you couldn’t help but be slightly dubious about eating something he’d just pulled out of the ocean. He sighed loudly before answering.

“You don’t have to eat it,” he sounded tired, and you supposed he must have been with how hard he’d worked. “It’s edible. I’ve caught this fish before.” He wiped at his brow with the shirt around his shoulders, his skin slightly pink from the sun. 

You didn’t say anything, still unsure, but when the time came for him to unwrap the blackened leaves, your stomach growled loudly. It looked very good. 

He didn’t offer any, instead, he snatched a piece of the steaming, flaky fish and popped it into his mouth, relishing the taste with a loud groan and a big smile. A nice smile, in truth. 

“Maybe I’ll try a little bit.” You scooted closer to where he sat in the sand, unable to resist it.

“Here, careful - it’s very hot.” He tore a piece of a fresh banana leaf and gave you a decently sized filet, and with singed fingers and zero patience, you took a bite.

It was, without a doubt, the most delicious thing you’d ever eaten. 

“Good?” He ate quickly, his expression amused at your very obvious enjoyment of the ‘dubious’ fish. 

“It’s the best fucking thing I’ve ever had.” You meant every word, and licked every last morsel off your fingers.

It was incredibly dark by the time the food was eaten, and the fire had died out. Francisco was attaching a piece of netting to the open side, and once he was done, he climbed in without another word. 

The helicopter felt safe, enclosed and a space you could lock, but the shelter would have airflow. It would be infinitely cooler to sleep in. You knew that, eventually that helicopter would turn into a greenhouse that felt more like an oven. Not to mention how horrible it was to sleep sitting up. 

Every second that passed made the shelter look more and more appealing, and after quickly changing into clean clothes, you slipped in silently, but it didn’t even matter, he was already asleep.

—

He woke to the feeling of soft breath on his back, the air was significantly cooler than it had been during midday, and now, in the early dawn of the morning she was seeking him out for warmth. It was in him to pull away, to deny her, but instead, he stayed motionless. Let her even breath comfort him for a few moments before he eventually rose to bathe in the ocean. Her hand was draped around his middle, pressing herself flat to him while she slept, completely oblivious.

He thought about how scandalized she’d be to know she was being so intimate with him; it almost made him laugh, but soon, that internalized mirth shifted to something bitter, something close to anger. He was only too aware that when she looked at him, she saw ‘the help’; someone like her could never see him as anything other than someone else to pay off, the person hired to do things below her. She shifted in her sleep, burrowing closer, her soft puffs of air ruffling the hair curling at the base of his skull. 

Why does that bother me? I don’t even care about this person.

He sighed, confused with himself over these baffling feelings of inadequacy, frustrated that being close to another person felt good. Annoyed that he didn’t want to pull away - no matter how much of a brat she was. If she woke now and saw them tangled, she’d be embarrassed, perhaps even disgusted, he knew this for a certainty. So he left her.

-

Dawn found you almost frustratingly well-rested, as well as alone. All doubts that may have lingered about the craftsmanship of the shelter evaporated like the morning dew. A long, much-needed stretch is the catalyst that moves you out of the shelter, making sure to close the netting on your way to grab your toiletry bag when he catches your eye from his place in the water. The early morning sun lit up the surface like diamonds. He was running his hands through his hair, wringing out the shirt he’d been wearing the day before. His skin was golden, the high planes of his face kissed by the sun's rays, his shoulders too. You watched him for a time, unable to ignore the breadth of his shoulders - the pleasant sight of his thighs and it was hard not to stare at him when he rose out of the water, the droplets from his golden skin casting a sort of spell on their way back down to earth.

His hands were something else altogether, weaving their own magic the closer he came to shore, from the way they wrung out the shirt easily to the way they adjusted his considerable bulge as he walked, and you looked away quickly, ignoring the curious heat crawling up your chest. 

He found you brushing your teeth, pointedly looking away. 

“I’m going to go look for more fruit.” He spoke as he put the wrung-out shirt to dry next to some of the other things he’d washed before changing out of his wet boxers behind the cover of the helicopter. “You should gather more firewood, things to burn for tonight.”  When he came back around, he was dressed in a clean white tee and a pair of shorts. Looking for all the world like a man on vacation. 

“I’m coming with you.” You rose from your place in the sand quickly, shuffling to reach him before he left you. “I’d rather not wait around.”

“Fine, come on then.” With that, you both set off into the trees.

The morning was full of birdsong and sunlight, bright buttery shafts of it cutting through the trees while the former echoed around you. 

“This would be a gorgeous place to vacation.” He echoed your thoughts as you followed a faint path in the brush. 

“I guess, would need a vast improvement.” Like a hotel, and an actual landing strip maybe. He laughed low, his eyes looking high into the trees.

“I don’t know, I don’t mind it being a bit rustic.” He pointed ahead, a few coconut trees catching his attention.

“This is more than a bit rustic I’d say. God I can’t wait until my parents find me. I should be by the pool right now, mingling with Louis.” Your palm smacks against the first of surely many bites rising on your skin. 

“That your boyfriend?” He’s serious now, scooping a couple of coconuts from the floor and dropping them into your arms.

“No, but he should be. He’s an insanely wealthy man my father invited to our private island, where I should be right now.” You sighed loudly, annoyed at the situation all over again. “Soon. Soon, I will be back where I belong. God, my mother is probably worried sick, you know?” You stood there, holding onto the coconuts he stacked in your arms before moving on to find more fruit.

“Sure.” He all but grunts, moving carefully through the brush. “I get it-“

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the military is out searching for me right now.” An image of handsome Louis frantically joining the search with your parents makes your stomach flip. 

I wonder if he is worried about me?

“Focus.” His voice rips you out of your daydream. “Let’s grab some more bananas, and head back.” He seems annoyed - he’s always annoyed.

“I hate this.” Your arms ache from holding the heavy coconuts. “Shouldn’t we be building a signal fire or something?” You can hear the whining tone, but you can’t stop it. Must everything be so hard?

“And just what are we meant to signal? Seen a bunch of planes, have you?” His tone is icy, his expression angry. “Cruise ships sailing by us every hour?” He finds a banana tree and cuts down a stalk, his movements aggressive.

“Well no-“

“Exactly. We’re on our own, which means until the military or whoever is looking for you finds this island- we have to work.” He props the bananas against his shoulder and turns back towards the camp, pointedly ignoring the way you struggle to keep up with him. 

-

You’re already covered in sweat by the time you make it back to camp, breathing hard and soaking through your clothes.

“Jesus Christ, I cannot with these things.” You dump the coconuts next to the water jugs, shaking out your aching limbs. He sets the bananas next to them before moving to grab some firewood from the tree line. Your eyes scan the beach, the waves gently lapping at the shore; it would be pretty enough without the eye sore that is the helicopter.

“I cannot wait to be away from this hunk of junk.” His movements stop at your words.

“That hunk of junk was my entire fucking livelihood. I don’t have a rich daddy to just buy me a new one.” He tosses the wood pieces angrily into the pit, ignoring the recoil his tone inspired. “Not everyone has it so easy, princess.”

“No, I guess they don’t, sorry-“ he spoke over you.

“Forget it.” He let out a sigh. “Let’s just do what we can to survive until someone finds us.” His expression was cold, and you can’t help the guilt that blooms in the pit of your stomach.

“Sounds good.” The rest of the day passed by in silence.

—

The days both fly, and crawl by and Frankie works each and every one of them. He works to find them food, he works to reinforce their shelter - to make them as comfortable as he possibly can, all while trying his hardest not to lose his mind. The picture of his little girl burned a hole in his heart when he looked at it each night. He only hoped she knew he’d come back to her.

Being stuck on an island by himself would have been bad enough; the loneliness, the isolation would no doubt be detrimental to his mental health, to his hopes of being found, but this? This had to be worse.

She helped, but only because he pushed her to. He knew that if it were up to her - they would have long since starved. He watched her as he braided more palm fronds to pad the sleeping platform, she was washing some of the clothes she’d worn as best she could, and he couldn’t help but admit that she was pretty. Her face was pleasant to look at when her nose wasn’t turned up. He can’t help but like the shape of her, imagining her skin would be soft and silky - he’d definitely been on this island too long. 

Doesn’t matter how attractive she is, she doesn’t want you, and you don’t want her.

He didn’t know if he was reminding himself, or convincing himself. 

A noise in the treeline behind him stops him mid-braid and for a moment, he thinks there might be someone else on the island, but he realizes what it is and grabs his knife. If he plays this right, tonight they’d eat like kings. 

-

A new appreciation was born of having to wash your own clothes, for electricity, for washing machines and dryers, for Tide pods. For the maids who did your laundry and for the people who did your drycleaning, for the neat drawers full of clean clothes waiting at home. 

For now, these would have to do. They wouldn’t smell like your favourite fabric softener, but they’d be clean enough to wear here at least. Francisco had set up a makeshift laundry line from the helicopter to a leaning palm tree, his things hanging as you added your own, and you briefly considered folding his things for him when his absence caught your attention. 

“Francisco?” you called out to him, ignoring the way your heart raced. Usually, when he went off to get water or fruit, he let you know; it was unlike him to leave without a word. There had to be a reason. He wouldn’t just abandon you, would he? 

Grab a hold of yourself, where the hell would he even go?

He crashed through the trees, triumphant and laughing, and you shoved away the altogether too-big feeling of relief that washed over you to see him. 

“Good news, Princess, there’s wild boar on the island.” It was the happiest you’d seen him, well, ever. “It’ll be hard, but I think I can catch one.” He was making his way towards his supplies, and very quickly, the relief turned to dread. “We’re going to feast-”

“You’re going to kill a wild pig?” It was very hard to keep the worry out of your tone, or off your face. 

“What’s the matter, never had pork chops?” He frowned now, his hands on his hips facing you. 

“I mean, yeah, but this is a little different than going to a butcher and grabbing a few chops. You’re going to hunt down the animal and kill it? I’m not into that. I don’t know if I could eat it.” He narrowed his eyes at you, no doubt preparing to rip you a new one. “It’s also incredibly dangerous - they have a tendency to gore people.” His expression changed at that, real consequences seemed to get through to him. 

“I mean, it’s not that different, but fine.” The wind had gone out of his sails, “I’ll see if I can catch something in the water - you okay with that?” He grabbed his fishing gear, raising an eyebrow, and you nodded before he made his way towards the water. You knew he was probably cursing you for ruining whatever he imagined cooking, but still, you couldn’t help but consider it a victory. 

Babe, the pig wouldn’t be dying on your watch, and neither would he. Instead, he returned to the camp a few hours later with a fish, a few crabs, and a look that said you better not have any complaints. You didn’t. None that you’d say out loud anyway.

Dinner was a quiet affair, tasty and filling with the fish and the added protein; you both went to sleep full, and ungored. 

-

Something loud dragged you up and out of the haze of sleep. It was still dark, and the sun had not risen yet. The sound was definitely something loud - probably just a plane. You shot up, scrambling out of the shelter to see if what you were hearing was real, Francisco barely moved. 

It was high up, but it was definitely a plane. 

“Francisco! There’s a plane. Where are the flares?” You all but barrelled into the shelter to shake him out of his dreams. 

“Hmmm, tired baby.” He was out of it but strong when he pulled you closer - you ignored the way your stomach flipped on its ass at his pet name. 

“Francisco, let me go, there’s a plane!” You smacked at his face lightly, just enough to wake him up.

“Huh? A plane?” your words broke through his sleep-addled brain, and he shot up. “What kind of plane?” He was out and grabbing at his bag momentarily before he swore loudly, a sigh filling the quiet of the dawn. “You called me for a commercial plane? You didn’t actually fire a flare, did you?” The blood drained from his face momentarily.

“No, I would have, but I didn’t know where you put the flare gun.” You frowned at him, annoyed. “I thought they’d see it.”

“Thank Christ.” He took a deep breath, his hands on his hips, “That Is a commercial flight, and if you’d fired the flare, it would have not only been a waste of a flare, but you could have burned the shelter down, could have ruined our supplies.” He seemed angry, and that, in turn, pissed you off. 

“I didn’t think about that, I was trying to help-“ You crossed your arms, ignoring the annoyed look on his face.

“With the altitude that plane has, it wouldn’t matter if we had a thousand flares; come to me before you try to signal anyone, got it Princess?” He didn’t wait for a response, instead, he got back into bed and didn’t mention the incident again. 

You got back into the shelter, laying in the pre-dawn glow - conflicting feelings fighting for dominance within you. You stared at his back, at the soft curl of hair he wore like a halo, and the fluttering of your stomach won out for just a moment. The solid press of him holding you close while still asleep was strangely welcome, although you’d never admit it. His condescending tone came to mind then, he had a habit of speaking down to you, and while you could admit you weren’t the most knowledgeable in survival, you still deserved to be spoken to like an adult. 

You fell asleep fighting the urge to both press yourself close, and smack him upside the head.

-

When morning well and truly came, it found you both in a terrible mood. 

He was quiet, much like he always was when he was annoyed, so you left him with his thoughts and set off to find more fruit through the path you’d both taken to traveling every few days. Luckily, the island was bountiful, and there were plenty of bananas, coconuts, and even some mangoes, but there was only so much you could take and you decided to venture out a bit further, keeping your eyes peeled for something different. 

After a while, you found a berry bush, a small variety you didn’t recognize at once, but they were a very gorgeous, deep purple colour. Thinking he might appreciate a change as much as you, you picked a few handfuls and wrapped them up in a banana leaf before continuing your scavenging. 

This was where your luck ran out, however, and if there were other varieties of fruit, they weren’t for you to find. Instead, you picked up a few mangoes and a coconut on your way back. 

You found him looking through his things from the helicopter, a scowl on his face. 

“Hey, I found some berries-” He looked up at the sound of your voice, his brow furrowed at the smile on your face. “I figured you were probably getting sick of the same fruit we’d been eating. I was hoping to find something else, but no luck.” You set them down in front of him. 

“You didn’t eat this, did you?” his voice was curt and you frowned. 

“No, I thought we could share them-”

“These are toxic.” He tossed them into the sand, burying them with a heavy sigh. “Do me a favour and don’t grab shit you don’t know for sure is edible. You could have made us really sick.” He turned then and continued with his inventory. Embarrassment and annoyance burned through your veins. 

“You don’t have to be such an asshole about it, you know.” The words came on almost by themselves, bubbling up in your throat at the sanctimonious look on his face. 

“What?” He paused and turned to look you in the face. 

“You don’t have to be so fucking mean to me all the time.” You crossed your arms, holding in the frustration that seemed to expand in your lungs like a horrible balloon. “All you do is talk down to me. I said I was sorry about almost using the flare-” He huffed out an almost amused laugh and it boiled your blood. “It’s not funny! I’m stuck out here with you and all you do is yell, or talk to me like I’m stupid. I’m a person, and I deserve basic human decency-”

“What’s my last name?” He crossed his arms, his voice calm, but his question stole the words right out of your mouth. 

“What?” 

“You heard me - what is my last name? What do you know about me? Aside from the fact that my first name is Francisco, and that I’m a pilot.” He stood, knocking the sand off his shorts. 

“I don’t think you told me-”

“No, I haven’t - do you know anything about who might be looking for me? Do you have any idea if I have anyone waiting for me to get home?” Your stomach sank, the anger slowly bleeding away and being replaced with shame. “Any idea if I’m married, or if I have kids?” He’s angry now, the scowl bigger than ever before. 

“No, I-I don’t know.” You took a step back. 

“No. No, you don’t. You don’t know that I’m divorced, that my parents are probably worried sick. You don’t know that I have a daughter, that her name is Tatiana, and that she’s probably thinking her dad abandoned her, or worse - that he’s dead.” You recoiled at that. 

“I didn’t know you had a daughter.” Your voice feels small, and the shame in your belly grows, vines of guilt wrapping themselves around your throat.

“How could you? You’ve never fucking asked me a single thing about who I am as a person! All you’ve done is complain. Complain and talk to me endlessly about how much money your parents have, how you should be on a private island, and how much of a fucking eyesore my livelihood is, and any time I’ve opened my mouth to respond or explain how we’re both stuck here, you’ve spoken over me.” His words cut at you - you don’t know this man at all, and you never ever cared to ask. You don’t respond. 

He was well and truly angry now, kicking sand away from himself in his frustration. 

“I’m sorry-” He put his hands up. 

“Don’t. I don’t need you to apologize. I need you to pull your weight, and maybe realize that I’m also a person, and that all your money means jackshit to me. I need you to treat me like a human being, not just a sounding board.” He walked away, leaving you with your guilt - a sad balloon deflating alone.

-

They were both quiet that night. With Francisco, it was mostly out of anger. The feelings of inadequacy and frustration he’d been bottling up had finally been spoken aloud, and now he was processing them, all while still being stuck on this godforsaken island.

For her, he could see it was pure guilt. From the subdued expression, from her quiet words and general withdrawal, he knew no one had ever been so honest with her before. He would have almost felt guilty, if he hadn’t been so annoyed and hurt at the way she’d treated him. Instead, they both avoided each other for the rest of the night - a silent shared meal before wordlessly falling asleep in the shelter.

He woke the next morning to the feeling of her pressed against him again.

Her deep, even breaths against the back of his neck were embarrassingly welcome, and he ignored the way his body responded. He let out a low, deep sigh, grateful that he was facing away, a shudder passing through his body at the thought of having to explain why he was as hard as a rock. 

His hand traveled down to where her leg was draped over his hip, unable to resist feeling her skin for just a moment before he slowly untangled their limbs, and made his way towards the water. 

—

Days passed, and they passed without much conversation. This particular morning was somehow even more quiet despite the constant sound of waves lapping at the shore. The anger had fizzled out, and what was left was more akin to silent resignation. The two of you danced around each other, performing what were now everyday tasks without uttering a single word. The hours slipping by wordlessly, that is, until your scream cut through the silence. 

“What is it?” He was at your side quickly, his eyes wide with something that looked suspiciously like worry. 

“I think I stepped on a shell-” The sand around your foot was turning pink, your eyes widening at the sight.

“Okay, take a deep breath and sit here-” He guided you with surprisingly soft hands towards one of the logs around the burned-out fire. “Don’t move - try to keep your foot out of the sand.” He stood then, walking away.

“Where are you going?” Your voice sounded strange, almost whiny, and you ignored the little pang of despair. 

Get a hold of yourself.

“Just going to get the first aid kit.” The cut throbbed as you waited, and soon he returned with one of the water bottles and a big red case. He walked with purpose, the look on his face shamed you to have been so clueless. This was a man that had obviously dealt with many a scraped knee. “Okay, let's see what we’re dealing with.”

He kneeled on the sand before you, taking your foot into his hands. You hissed when he softly brushed the sand away.

“Tsk, come on now Princess. I know you can be braver for me than that.” His hands were soft, and so was his tone, and it filled you with something, comfort amongst other, less wholesome thoughts. You shook them away, chewing on your bottom lip, watching as he played nurse. “Nothing too crazy, just a little cut.” 

He rinsed the sand carefully, his brow furrowed in concentration. 

“Okay, this might sting a little.” He rifled through the open case beside him, grabbing a little pack of what looked to be antiseptic. “Deep breath for me.” He watched you then, waiting until you let the breath go before wiping the wound clean. The sting almost slapped you across the face, every instinct screaming to pull your foot away from the mean man. 

“Okay, okay - you’re okay.” his hands engulfed your ankle, holding you firmly in place. “Good job, we’re almost done.” he spoke low, opening up a waterproof bandaid and carefully covering the tiny wound. “There we go. All done.” He pressed a small kiss to the top of your foot, his eyes widening after. “Sorry- force of habit.” He laughed awkwardly. 

“Thank you. It feels much better.” You felt the heat in your chest and in your ears and ignored it, ignored the whole mess of feelings blooming in your gut for him. 

“Yeah, sure.” He collected his things before scratching at the back of his neck and it thrilled you to realize that he looked as flushed as you felt. “I’m going to go catch something.” He got up quickly, moving with purpose away from where you sat, curtailing any further discussion. 

-

He hadn’t expected it, but she’d taken his words to heart. He’d felt terrible after going off on her. The embarrassment on her face at how she’d treated him, although completely warranted, pulled at his heartstrings. He couldn’t exactly say why - it wasn’t something he could explain, not something he wanted to delve into. Whether that was for his benefit or hers, he couldn’t be sure. 

She no longer had to be told to fetch fruit, or water. She did her best to keep the camp organized, she no longer spoke about her wealth, or Louis. She was quiet most of the time, in fact, and he wasn’t sure if it was better, or worse. 

Where she mostly avoided his annoyance throughout the day, she still clung to him at night. He never told her, convincing himself it was to spare her further embarrassment, ignoring the little part of him that knew it was because he was terrified that if she knew, she’d stop. 

-

Things were different, that was for sure. The days passed and you had to admit to yourself that you’d been such an ungrateful, horrid little - well, Princess. He’d been completely right about you, and he’d had the patience of a saint. You saw him with different eyes now. You saw a competent, strong, intelligent man who up until now, was the only reason you’d survived on this godforsaken island as long as you had. It was well and truly humbling. 

Instead of complaining, now you did your best to pull your weight. The goal was to show him that you were grateful, that you weren’t just some spoiled rich girl, that you could be something other than that, anyway. You wanted - needed to prove to him that you weren’t a burden. 

-

It had been a particularly hot day, the sun beating down on the both of you with a vengeance. Sunset couldn’t come fast enough, and once it did, you cherished it like never before. 

He dug around in the helicopter while you sat on the log, enjoying the tiny, but very welcome breeze coming off the water. 

“Oh wow, I forgot about this,” You heard the smile in his voice, “How would you feel about a drink?” He held a bottle in his hand, making his way over to your place in the sand. 

“I’d feel great actually, if you don’t mind sharing.” 

“Bottle’s almost full, more than enough for both of us.” He sat next to you, taking a generous sip of the amber liquid before handing it to you. It was warmer than you would have liked, but the burn was pleasant enough that you didn’t care. “Good, right?” His smile is as breezy as the ocean, and just as welcome. 

“Very good,” you couldn't help but admit before taking another long sip, “I can already feel it.” You smiled, handing it back to him. 

“We’ll be cheap drunks tonight, that’s for sure.” He took another long swallow, and you couldn’t help but stare at the way his throat worked. You watched the fire instead, focusing on the embers as the drink settled in your stomach. The heat spreads through your limbs, making you feel heavy where you sit beside him. 

You both sat in silence for a time, passing the bottle back and forth until most of it was gone, and your head felt like a balloon barely tethered to your body. 

“This would be such a beautiful place…without the whole ‘being stranded’ thing.” He held the bottle loosely, his eyes no doubt taking in the gorgeous sunset.

“You mean you don’t love being stuck out here with me?” You bumped his shoulder, and it vaguely registers how much you missed physical touch. He laughed, full-throated. 

“Oh yeah, this is definitely heaven.” His expression is exaggerated, “You know what I mean.” He gestures to where the water laps at the shore. “This is a paradise, just needs a resort, and an airport.” He sighed, his mood is the friendliest you’ve ever seen. 

“Yeah, it would definitely make a difference.” You leaned back and listened to the water. “Happy you’re here though, woulda died without you.” You didn’t mean to say it, but it’s absolutely true.

“Oh, I don’t know-” He shrugged, modest and much kinder than you deserved.

“Yes, you do-” You shoved at his arm softly, “You’re the only reason we’re still alive, super nice to me despite the fact that I can be a spoiled little brat.” You laughed. 

“Can’t argue with that.” He laughed, “I like brats, though.” He smiled, and something that feels very much like butterflies fluttered around in your stomach. He didn't say anything else, and neither did you, the butterflies lingered, though, well into the night, and they only seemed to get stronger whenever his eyes found yours. 

“It’s getting late-” He puts the bottle down, “-we should get some rest.”

You nodded, not trusting your voice, instead, you just followed him towards the shelter. 

It’s a strange, unfamiliar dance you’re both doing - the polar opposite of how things have been between you. Shy smiles replace cold stares, and a curious longing takes hold of you. It would embarrass you to fall prey to your baser instincts - there’s something in the way his eyes tracked you that says you weren’t alone in your feelings. 

-

Something has shifted, he can feel it in the tense energy between them. A pleasant buzz flowed through his veins, danced along his nerves like a current, beat through his heart, and into his loins. She was so close, he could practically feel her warmth. 

She sighed beside him, her legs rubbing together like a cricket and he knew in his gut, she felt the same energy. 

“Good night, Frankie.” She whispered the words, as though someone might overhear. His eyes clenched shut at the feel of her breath ruffling through his hair, closer than she’d ever let herself get, awake anyway. 

“Night-” Everything in him wanted to turn over, to feel her fingers ruffle through his hair, but something held him back. He stayed still, his body tense despite how relaxed the alcohol had made him. 

“It’s a bit cold–” Her voice is a bit closer, so close he felt it in the shell of his ear, “-okay if I scoot closer?” Her hands pressed against his back, her legs tangled with his, and he knows in his bones, it’s just a ploy, but he stayed still nonetheless. 

“Sure-get close.” He took her hand and wrapped it around his middle, holding it well above his waist, letting out a deep breath.

“Oh-okay.” She pressed her face into his shoulder, and every cell in his body screamed at him to turn around, to kiss her, bury his tongue in her mouth, and then trail it down, bury it between her legs, but he shook his head, convincing himself she just wants this.

“Night.” His voice cracked, but he said nothing more. He felt her staring at him, letting out a little sigh of her own. 

“Night, Frankie.”

—

The days following your drunken night passed by in mostly silence, with a polite avoidance from him, and an annoyed quiet from you. 

It was no secret that you had the power to annoy the hell out of him, but you’d thought there’d been something else. The look in his eye when he’d told you he liked brats, the sound of his voice when he’d held you close, the considerable boner pressing against your ass when you’d woken up to him wrapped around you that next morning. 

Maybe you’d misread him, maybe it wasn’t flirting, maybe he’d just been stroking your ego, being nice to you, and you’d practically thrown yourself at him only to be.. What? Ignored? 

-

The wind whipped around as you both ate dinner a few quiet days later, the sky dark and pregnant with the promise of a heavy rain, filling you with worry. The shelter was sturdy, you knew that, but you didn’t think it would hold up against a storm like the one that had blown you both onto the island to begin with. 

“I don’t think we’ll be enjoying a fire tonight,” His eyes stared at the sky, same as you, “we should bring the clothes into the shelter; it’s going to pour soon.” He got up, tossing his banana peels into the fire pit just as the first few drops of water sprinkled down on top of you.

A nervous current flowed through your body as you made yourself comfortable within the shelter, making you acutely aware of his closeness. 

The rain came down in sheets as you both lay there, filling the silence with its rhythmic pattering against the tarp. Lightning flashed, illuminating the space between you. A shiver ran through you at the look on his face. 

“You okay?” His hand shot out, landing softly on your arm, raising goosebumps as it slid down towards your elbow.

“I’m fine.” You shudder, but all at once, annoyance springs up at his rejection the other night - you turn to give him your back. 

“Are you… angry at me?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“Why would I be angry at you? It’s not like I threw myself at you or anything.” 

“What?” His voice sounded incredulous, “You mean, when we were drinking?”

“Yes!” You sighed, “I was all over you. I guess I was wrong.” All at once, you’re embarrassed, and desperate to get away from his incredulous expression. The storm, however, holds you both hostage.

“Hm.” He sounded almost amused, and your stomach dropped, “Well, if I’d known that all you needed was to be fucked, things would have been different.” 

Your stomach did a backflip onto its ass, shock, and pure adrenaline coursing through your body at his words. You turned slowly to face him.

“Sorry?” It came out almost stupidly, and he smiled a very self-satisfied smile.

“I said, if I’d known, that in order for you to stop being such a brat,” He moved in closer, forcing you to lay back and make space for him between your legs. “All you needed was for me to fuck you, I would have done it sooner.” He hovered above you, close enough that he must’ve surely felt your heart pounding where his chest met yours. It’s with Herculean strength, that you composed yourself, albeit nervously.

“Well, I guess I just thought you were more perceptive.” The bold words were completely at odds with the tremor in your voice; he laughed, full-throated, and it sent a current across every inch of you. 

“Or maybe, I thought you’d open that pretty mouth of yours, and say what it is you wanted.” He pressed forward, dragging his lips across your jaw before capturing your mouth in a kiss. It started soft, and for a moment, the storm disappeared, your hands finding themselves tangled up in his messy waves, and then his tongue pressed forward, and it pulled a moan from somewhere deep inside you. 

There was no more talking. Only the feeling of your heart racing, your cunt aching, and his comforting weight pressing you into the shelter, that is, before he shifted his hips and the considerable heft of him was slotted perfectly against where you needed him most. 

The slip of his warm palm from the trembling skin of your belly raised goosebumps in its wake, and pulled a gasp from your mouth into his when it glided under your shit and landed on your breast. Those deft fingers you’d seen working away on all manner of things on this island, now plucked deliciously at your nipple. 

It was almost violent, both the storm outside, and your haste to divest him of his clothes. The need to feel that golden skin on yours was a hunger pang, both terrible and euphoric, that burned as brightly as the flashes of lightning that lit up the shelter. His eyes shone with the same intensity you felt, and instantly, he moved away to help you, too, the two of you scrambling with a ferocity that bordered on anger. 

“God, you’re so fucking hot–” He hissed the words onto your face before kissing you again, and any softness was gone, his teeth clicked against yours before his tongue took yours and laid down the law. Your skin burned with want, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back before you moved your hand down between you to finally grasp his cock. He pulled away from your mouth to stare down where you held onto him, drunk with the sight of just how big he looked in your grip. 

“Is this what you’ve been wanting?” He held himself above you, watching as you stroked him slowly. 

“God, yes, I wanted this - I want you to fuck me–” you swiped your thumb over the head, fat pearly drops of his own arousal making it slippery, “I want you to come inside me, make me feel good-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence before his mouth claimed yours once more and pulled your hand away in order to slip himself between the lips of your sex, coating himself in you for a moment before he finally slipped inside. 

“Jesus Christ, man.” You breathed the words onto his face at the stretch, at the way he seemed to have taken up every inch of space inside you, making you overflow with him. He didn’t give you any time to adjust, his hips snapping in a toe-curling rhythm. For a few minutes, there were no more words left, the only thing you can manage is to whimper, then moan in earnest when he ducked his head down to capture a nipple in his mouth. Your fingers like talons in his hair, keeping him close to your breast while your cunt soaked him in your want.

He let go of the perky bud with a pop, his eyes glazed. 

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna come so fast,” he almost slurred his words, pussy drunk, “your tight little cunt is gonna make me fucking come–” He sped up, his cock punching into you hard enough to make your breasts bounce, hard enough to make a lewd noise where you’re joined and you desperately wanted him to slow down so you can catch up. 

“Wait–” Your legs squeezed where they’d hitched up high on his hips, “Frankie–” His rhythm stuttered for a moment before he thrust again, deep, filling you with his come, and you almost cried at the thought that he might be done so soon.

“Fuck-” He ground himself as deep as he could, milking himself inside you for a moment before pulling away abruptly, hissing through the oversensitivity to look at his handiwork, “that’s so fucking pretty baby, look at me dripping out-” He smiled at you, almost laughing at the look of anguish on your face at the emptiness, “what’s wrong?” His hand rubbed at your belly for a moment before it slipped down, and two big fingers filled you back up. “I know you didn’t come, but you don’t think I’m just going to leave you like this, right?” He pumped slowly, making you keen when he pressed against something holy inside of you. “No, I got you, baby.” 

One moment he was kneeling between your legs, and the next, he was flat on his belly, his face pressed up against your pussy, tongue right on the button of your clit. 

The moan you let out was obscene. His tongue circled your clit with devastating precision, over and over again, until you were staring down at him with your mouth open, begging and praying incoherently for him to keep going just like that. His eyes were bright, laser-focused on you just like his tongue, and his free hand came up to hold onto your breast, pinching at your nipple, and all of a sudden, the sting snapped, the wave crested, and you practically folded in half, swearing loudly as you gushed around his fingers.

-

You weren’t sure how much time passed, but the storm got a little stronger, and louder as you both lay in the shelter, quiet and content to hold each other. Lightning turned the darkened skies into day for a moment before the boom of thunder shook you to your core. 

“It’s okay, just loud.” He said it softly into your ear with the same patience he’d had when he bandaged your foot, the comforting words dads usually used for their children.

“I know, it just startled me.” 

“Force of habit.”

“Your daughter, is she scared of thunderstorms?” You turned towards him, making yourself comfortable in his embrace.

“Only at first.” His smile was wistful, “She always jumps from the first big boom but then laughs,” his eyes crinkled, and it was hard not to notice just how handsome he is, the care and love he has for his daughter shining out through his eyes. “Sorry, I just miss her a lot.” It faltered, that handsome smile, and it made you sad for him.

“Don’t be sorry. I can’t imagine how hard all this must be for you.” Guilt swirled in your chest at the way you’d treated him before, at your general attitude towards everyone up until getting stranded. “I’m sorry about how I was–” He shook his head no, much too kind, kinder than you deserved, and you pushed through. 

“No, let me say it. I’m sorry about how I treated you - I was horrible.”

“You weren’t that bad.” 

“Yes, I was, so spoiled and insensitive, I didn’t even give your situation a second thought. All I cared about was myself and I can’t even believe it now. I’m sorry. I’m really lucky to have you here.”

“Thank you,” he smiled, one of his palms rubbing your back soothingly, “you’ve definitely had a big turnaround.” He laughed, and you smacked his arm playfully. “I’m lucky you’re here too. I would have been miserable by myself.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, and you couldn’t help but sigh at the simple comfort human touch could bring. “Not sure you would have ever agreed to go out with me had we not been stuck here together.” 

His words were light, and for a moment, you wanted to protest, but you didn’t think you could, and it shamed you further.

“Oh god, what a moron I was.” You groaned, pressing your face into the warm skin of his neck. 

“You weren’t a moron, maybe a little oblivious, and I don’t mean that in a cruel way. You and I are in very different circles. I doubt our paths would have even crossed, but I’m glad they did because as much as you have the power to drive me nuts, I really like you.” His hands continued their comforting sweep across your skin, lulling you into the most relaxed state you could remember being in, in a long time. 

“I would have been an idiot to not give you a chance. You’re so sweet and smart, and so strong, so fucking handsome, too. You take care of me and make me laugh, and you have done your best to keep us both safe and sound and I’m just - I’m ashamed that maybe in the past I would have been too shallow and stuck up to notice.” The storm abates as you confess some feelings you’d been harboring. 

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. I think I probably would have dismissed you just as quickly for similarly shallow reasons. As gorgeous as you are, I most likely would have written you off as some rich trust fund-baby.” He half-shrugged.

“I’m still sorry. It’s because of me that we’re here.” 

“I could have said no.”

“I pressured you with money. I pushed even though you’d said it was unsafe.”

“I still could have said no. Let’s just forget it all, everything that happened before we got here. Point is we’re here, and we have to keep it together until someone finds us.” His hand kept its rhythm, sweeping over any and all skin, casting its spell of comfort until both it and the storm lulled you into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

-----

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[ladyravenblack]

TW: body image issues

He watches me, always keeping his eyes on me and I can’t figure out why. I’m not pretty like the other people here, no I came to Hell like I left earth; short, fat, and plain. Only difference was the smattering of white freckles and deer ears atop my head.

“Alastor?” My voice is soft, maybe I’m hoping he simply doesn’t hear me so I don’t have to speak what I’m thinking but of course there’s no such luck with him being so finely tuned into me.

“Darling?” The static in his voice sends shivers up my spine and I lick my lips, swallowing and breathing a heavy sigh before speaking again.

“Why me? I’m nothing. I’m not even pretty- I mean you could have literally anyone you wanted” he holds his hand up cutting me off, annoyance on his face.

“Do you really think that? That I’m so shallow I would pick some over beauty?” He asks stepping closer, his height always intimated me but now all it did was add fuel to the fire on how pointlessly tiny and unable I was.

“Well…even if you choose over capability or brains I have neither” I motion at myself, my obvious weight that holds me down, my short legs, the lack of agility and flexibility that renders me weak. All I have going is brute strength and even that has been lost since being at the Hotel.

That look of annoyance and anger seemed to grow “Do you think I can’t make good decisions?”

“No I just think I’m a bad decision” he looks over me, thinking, the soft buzzing that follows him coiling around me until he bends himself down and everything falls silent.

“You’re kind- you’re so kind everyone walks over you and you’ve let yourself believe what they’ve told you. So listen to me, believe me, when I tell you that you are the most beautiful person I have seen, down here or on that earthly plane. You are who I want when I go to bed at night and I will not tolerate you treating yourself like this” he reaches for my cheek, caressing it gently “what can I do to make you see you how I do?”

The soft desperation and sadness in his voice tears at my heart, making me feel so guilty for feeling so ugly and I can feel the tears welling in my eyes before the slip down to meet his hand. He brushes them away, his tongue lapping them up quickly before he puts his forehead to mine.

“I’m a serial killer, why on earth would I choose someone to keep around that I don’t find appealing?” The words hung in the air, he was right. He hadn’t disposed of me, he spent time with me and touched me when so many others couldn’t even be near him.

“I’m sorry” I whisper and watch his face contort into confusion at my apology before he brings his lips to mine. The static tuning to a soft jazz and silencing the thoughts in my brain, his best trick yet I think.

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Sarcasm's Rec List 2: Electric Boogaloo

[Thank you to everyone who voted!]

Masterlist Previous Rec List Mundane Macabre (main blog)

[Hardcover/Anger Management ship]

Red is Hood’s Favorite Color by mango_sushi98

Sonnet 29 at the End by ew_selfish_art The Rapid Growth of the Fenton family tree by Lunaml (First entry of the series)

If you find a vigilante in the dumpster by lunamugetsu (WIP)

The Night Will Come But Not To Stay by ectoentity (WIP)

Friendly Neighborhood Vigilante by Elizabehta_Beilschmidt  (WIP)

Somehow whatever’s eternal in me knows whatever’s eternal in you by DemonicoAngel (WIP) (This has to be one of my favorite works in the hardcover ship) To hell and back by Ocearna (WIP)

The Night Will Come But Not To Stay by ectoentity Advent Reunion by Shynnohwen (First entry of the son of the hood series)

[General Recs/no particular tag]

This Way Madness Lies by ConspiracyCrows (WIP)

Foundling At The Door by Spaced_Ace (First entry of the House of Elle series)

I can be both even if it’s hard (and it’s hard) by multi_fandomfreak (WIP) (What if Sam and Tuck went to get Jazz before Danny came back out of the portal?)

Staring is rude but so am I by Imshookandbi (Let Sam unleash that anger at her parents, as a treat)

Ghosts on a plane by NightShiftShenanigans

We All Have Our Christmas Traditions by Multisakublossom (Tucker-centric)

Alfred and the Tiny Attic Squatters by Shynnohwen (WIP) (Alfred is the real patriarch of the batfam, we all know this)

Like and Survive - Phantom's Guide to Young Hero Survival by robinasnyder (WIP) (Grown up danny, first hero, gives life advice, makes ripples) Visitant Lights by Shynnohwen

5 + 1 Meeting the Nightingales by elizabthemerald

Please Don’t Take My Sunshine Away by FearlessHades (WIP)

Son of the hood? By Valiantlybold (first entry of the Danny Wayne series, wonderful) Wayne’s Haunted Mansion by Tathartiel (WIP) Spelunking by SummersSixEcho (First of the Ghost in the Family series) regular boy: daniel wayne by phantom_o_writes (WIP) Dad from Mars by Animefangirl1221 (WIP)

Undead Lockpicking or How Danny shamed Superman into changing his locks by Milaley Contractual obligations by Calix, Tathartiel (A twist on the usual DC recs: This one is steeped to perfection with Hellblazer lore. Wonderful and epic, well done to the authors!)  

[Dead Tired]

The Batfamily Can’t Communicate by miistical

Bitter, had the Heart by CastrianAmore (WIP)

[Demon Twins]

The Sketchbook by Notrus You’re Not Who I’d Thought You’d Be, and I’m Glad For It by Nanenna

The Parent Trap by Nanenna

my starlight by hollowgast1  (WIP)

Loss Like A Severed Limb by Littlestartopaz

The Devil’s After Both of Us by TheWritingOwl

[Dead Silent/Deaths Dance]

Full Time Hero, Full Time Disaster by halfagone

Lex Luthor’s Ascent from Supervillainy to fatherhood by halfagone (WIP) (This feels like reading an epic) By My Count by TheStrange_One (WIP)

[Dead Serious]

Artificial Wingman by TheSleepyKitsune (WIP)

Love Like You by DisillusionedDanny (WIP)

Press Heart to Subscribe by Die_Erlkonigin6083 (WIP)

Webbing Up A Family by Agelaius_Ace

Peter the Pizza Guy by Irisen  (WIP) Along Came A Spider by RagsnBones (Cassandra Cain/Peter Parker) Butler Spider by Danny_shells (WIP)

Time flies by (bye) by whyiseverynametaken

Little Red Spider Hood by Cashmire

You With the Watercolor Eyes by DefinitelyNotIndecisive (WIP) A Long Way From Home (And No Way Back) by Vivia_wants_boba (WIP) Homesick by NotSoSweetHeh

Red and Blue are hero colors by Cashmire (WIP)

Spider-Man or Spider-Spider by disappear_rapidly  (WIP)

Spiderhead by emmacortana

Archnomaly by Songue85 (WIP)

Nothing Left to Lose (Dick in New York) by seekrest (WIP)

A/N: Congrats to 3am me for double checking the links worked properly. I hope y'all enjoy these reads!

[mommybard]

Oh sure, everyones heard of slutty bards. Of lewd rogues who pick pockets while giving handjobs. Of sorcerers getting bred by various monstrous beings to get more sorcerer magic in their line. Of paladins who are totally fighting to defeat evil, not because they’re secretly masochistic cuties who want so badly to be overpowered and taken by those they fight. 

But where’s the love for the wizards? Hmm? The abjuration dommes holding off their playthings orgasms. Countering every attempt they make to finally get the relief they need. Warding them against being able to reach that peak without permission. Covering their pets in various glyphs to punish or reward them, as the situation demands. The conjuration monster fuckers, constantly summoning various beings of the other planes to try them out. From the elementals of the Earth Plane, to the devils of the Nine Hells, even the eldritch beings from the Outer Planes. Some of them even open portals just to their holes, leaving the other end with a friend or even where someone might stumble upon it and put their body to use. 

Those fucking divination voyeurs. Peeking in on everyone else, touching themselves as they watch the whorish acts of their fellow wizards. Loading up newbie adventurers with tales of prophecy, when they really can’t wait to scry in on them and watch them getting ruined by the monsters they were “prophesized” to slay.

The enchantment mind controllers. Hypno addicts controlling and warping the minds of their loyal minions. Rewriting every part of their brains to serve them. Planting suggestions, rewriting personalities, corrupting and twisting innocent cuties into wanton whores desperate for more. 

Illusion…bah. Exhibitionists more like it. Strolling around naked as can be while they make other people see them in splendid outfits. Hiding in plain sight as they touch themselves or others. Going invisible so they can more easily eat out or suck off someone under a table. Projecting an image of them just sitting in a theater naturally while they’re stroking themselves raw. Bunch of deviants. 

Don’t even get me started on those necromancy sadists. Inflicting terrible wounds on those they capture, just to heal them up after. And endless cycle of pain and pleasure until their subjects break. Just so they can get them to sign away their bodies and souls to the necromancer. Degenerates. 

But the horniest of them all? The most depraved ones, the ones that deserve the most love? Definitely the transmutation wizards. Shaping both their body and others to suit their needs. Sculpting the thickest cocks, the bounciest tits, the most breed-hungry cunts, the roundest asses. Or on the reverse. Tiny tits that are ridiculously sensitive. Barely there penises that can’t help but squirt every time their owner is teased or humiliated. Needy boycunts that refuse to cum until their owner’s ass is being violated and recked. Really, is there any nobler school of magic~?

[sevs-corner]

COD x (Soldier) Reader/You (Retired Comfy AU)

PSA:

Characters may be OOC (i'm new to the plot and fandom)

Straight up crack fic and very unserious

afab aligned reader

Clunky format ‘cause this site hates me so im using my phone to post lol

Might become a mini series hehe

Separate post on summary/ idea of the plot behind this but for now- enjoy the introductory one-shot !

• As a friend in arms, you knew how most of you had to escape the government (because of their corruption) and end up at a rural area at some random European country Lasswell guided your misfits of arms to

• Currently, you were all in a plane to Switzerland with the 414 crew

• "Can I finally go into a genuine Ikea?"

• Breaking the tense silence in the plane, the four couldn't help but turn to you with a deranged look of, 'what the fuck.'

• "say that again luv?" Gaz asks exasperatedly, wondering if you were serious just now, but seeing the sparkling gleam in your eyes-- that was a hard no.

• "I mean c'mon!" you whined, "wouldn't you wanna see Blahaj?"

• "who the hell is that?" Ghost scoffed, but amused at how unserious you were being right now and at how you gasped as if he said something so offensive

• Whipping your head to Ghost, who sat across from you with Price to his right and Gaz to his left, you mutter an offended, "how dare you not know such thing!"

• "who are they then pup?" Soap leans in with his arm over your shoulder, pulling you in

• "only the greatest mascot ever!" you replied back and shoving a tiny plushie in his face, making him back up with a quick, "holy-!" in surprise

• How did you procure that from thin air? The task force would never know.

• "This-!" You emphasized, "is Blahaj!" you began humming a holy song as you lifted your tiny Blahaj plushie in the air as the 4 (unknowing to you) were trying so hard to keep in their laughs

• "did ya always have that on ya'?" Price just had to ask- no, he needed to know if you kept that on your pack at all times

• "obviously!" you huffed with your chest out ever so confidently, "its my lucky charm…" you stare at it in reminiscing, feeling the rough texture of the plushie as it had gone through the years of fighting alongside you.

• "yer side kick then, aye?" Soap messes your hair while chuckling, you were just like an adorable puppy to him

• So overly hyper and affectionate, but ever so loyal yet vicious when pushed to be

• You leaned even more into his embrace, sighing at the familiar comfort it gave you in tough times as these

• "yea, 'tis always been with me-- like you guys!" you first smiled at Soap who squeezed you harder and mirrored your own grin before turning to the others who's eyes couldn't help but soften at the account

• "that’s true," Gaz chuckles, "we've been through everything with each other"

• "At this point- it'd be weird if we didn't, aye?" Price added on with Ghost humming along, despite the eye roll he gave you as playfully teased him with a knowing stare

• "I bet you guys did everything alright," you mutter teasingly, making everyone groan

• "don't act as if I'm wrong!" you pointedly glare at everyone but soon direct it to a Soap who- quite clearly- became red at your insinuation.

• Seeing this, you took your opportunity to shove the arm off you as you gasp, "so scandalous of you Sarge MacTavish!"

• "Shut the fuck up pup," he groans, covering his face as he pushes your wiggling ass eyebrows face away, but as soon as he did you dodged and directed it this time to Ghost who just huffed at your assumption

• "Wild guessing now are we?" He asks you confidently while you cackled

• "You think I haven't seen you guys fuck back at base or something? Y'all think the walls are soundproof or some shit."

• Hearing your admission, now all of them were embarrassed.

• "I mean seriously- right after a fucking mission?! And all I hear all night is 'plap, plap, plap-!"

• "that’s enough outta ye," Soap groans, forcefully covering your mouth as the three other men throw him a gaze of appreciation

• Price cleared his throat before apologizing to you, "that's on us, sweetheart. Apologies."

• You wave your hand, signaling it was ok.

• "that's why-!" you shoved Soap's hand away from your mouth, "I would like the single bedroom away from all your tom-fuckery."

• "Corporal." Price warns and you simply giggled, seeing as how Ghost shoulders' shook from that pun as well

• "I have to know tho…"

• "..what is it this time…" Gaz, given up and instead of prolonging it- simply straight up and asks you

• "you guys must have had a foursome once or twice right?"

• The embarrassing groans continue as they simply ignored you now, soap- done with your shenanigans- transferred to his mates' side and cozied up with them

• "'cause I swear- y'all were doing that groanin' shit at the same time way too often-!"

• "kitty is curious, ain't she?" Ghost stares as you, a smirk under his mask as he sees your ears grow red

• "'cause y'all do shit without me…"

• All of their eyes widen at the revelation

• "WAIIIIITTTTT- NOT IN THAT KIND OF WAY--"

• "kitty wants to play cap'n," Ghost chuckles, now strolling up to you menacingly as you feel the vibe in the room change

• "hmm, no wonder she stayed up all those times huh?" Price smirks, standing up as well as both look down on your red-faced form

• "how would she know about those times, right?" Ghost could just eat up your reaction, seeing as how affected you were by them

• "no!" you turned to Ghost the pointing to Price, "No! Not like that!" you crawled back to the seat as much as you could as they went closer and closer

• "I think its just like that luv," Gaz pipes in, leaning against Soap who appeared by Ghost's side, "complaining in such detail- how else would you know that much, hm?"

• You squired in your seat, even more so as you feel like being pinned down by their gazes

• Soap leans down and his breath on your neck makes the hair ends stand at attention

• "interested in how that foursome went, doll?"

• Hearing this, your face exploded and four had the gall to laugh and go back to their seats, now amused at how the tables have been turned on you

• "fuck off all of you!" you groaned, hiding your face in your knees as you pulled it up

• "don't like being jostled now do we?" Gaz snickers and you throw him a playful glare

• "I just connected the dots recently okay?! Most of what I said was made up anyways- I was knocked out like a light every after mission!" you complained and surprisingly, that shut them up…

• Looking up from your knees as to why they had suddenly became silent, you could see their cold sweats dripping

• "wait- my bullshit is real and y'all fuck with each other in a poly relationship??" you asked, now genuinely shocked

• "we thought you were being for real earlier…" Soap huffs, rubbing his neck as he now- definitely- couldn't make eye contact with you

• "it was on point, y'know?" Ghost hums, also avoiding eye contact with you

• Price clears his throat again, "we thought you knew sweetie," he looks at you again, even more so awkward of how you didn't know the whole time you were with them since the incident with Shepherd and Graves

• "shit!" you cursed, now embarrassed at yourself of not knowing at all when all the signs were coming together

• You slid to a kneeled position in front of your superiors and gave a deep bow in apology

• "I'm so sorry sirs! I should've known better!"

• "Hey, hey- no need to kneel," Gaz was immediately at your side, trying to lift you from your position

• "we're not in the army anymore pup." Soap smiles, doing the same as the two other simply chuckle at your shenanigans once more

• "it- its.. Ugh! Words, brain is farting right now," you pouted as you let the two carry you up by the armpits and situate you again on your seat, in front of the two while the other two flanked your sides, not letting go of your shaking hands

• "…'m sorry for joking about that.."

• "You're good, kit." Ghost nods, "not a sensitive topic for us."

• "Yes," Price sighs, "we're all comfortable with each other."

• "including me right?" you pointed at yourself, with your hand still interlaced with Soap who simply smiles at your naivety

• Price chuckles, "you wouldn't be here right now if you aren't." He confesses truthfully and you couldn't help but sigh in relief with a soft 'thank fuck,'-- to which both Gaz and Soap snickers at.

• "not that I want to intrude or anything!" you cleared up and Price looks at you confused, "- just wanted to know what y'all boundaries are and what y'all comfy with if we're gonna live together- for like, I don't know- forever??" you end up unsure, now confused of what your living plans would be with the four

• Clearly they had their own relationship and their own routines, how could you intrude on that intimate part of themselves?! You had to contact Lasswell right now--

• "Oi, stop overthinkin'." Ghost pushes the skin between your brows and you wake up from your internal rant to see the four around you again, albeit- less menacingly this time

• "Sweetheart." Price calls to you and grabs your hands in his, making you face him

• "You are fine, we don't mind having you with us."

• "we've been through the worst together, haven't we?" Soap adds on, agreeing with the sentiments of his captain and partner

• "pretty too late now to back out, luv." Gaz hums patting your shoulder with a reassured smile

• "but--"

• "no buts," Ghost covers your mouth as you deadpan at him, "you're fucking with us for the long haul."

• You groan, already feeling the migraine that's kicking in living with these four horndogs of a superiors.

• "just keep me out of the 'fucking' part."

They laugh at your plead, all in good fun

[sigynpenniman]

AIRPORT TIERLIST OF AIRPORTS I’VE BEEN THROUGH FROM SOMEONE WHO FUCKING LOVES AIRPORTS

S TIER:

- MCO Orlando. My love my queen. Platonic ideal of airports. All the other airports wanna be her.

- MSY New Orleans - I have only seen your beautiful face once but your vibes were just impeccable. I miss you beautiful

A TIER:

- LHR London Heathrow - you’re so chill and sweet to be such a major airport. Weirdly calming somehow. Sterile, but the big boy of London airports. When you’re here you’re in London. Smells like joy.

- CDG Charles DeGaulle Paris. Dripping in stunning retro futurism and has a Concorde on stands by the runway. We love her

- DCA Ronald Reagan Washington DC. So pretty. So clean. So easy to navigate. Prevented from S tier status by being one long skinny thing with no way to get quickly across it.

B TIER:

- DEN Denver Colorado. Architecture for the gods but somehow the vibes are off. I’d fly through you again happily but I don’t feel especially warm when I think of you.

- FLL Fort Lauderdale - Hollywood. You’re permanently attached to very warm memories for me because of the trip I took from you but you’re just kind of there. Vibes are off. Meh.

- ORD Chicago O’hare. Aesthetic perfection but weirdly stressful. While I had a great time on this trip I do not think warmly of the airport other than the rainbow lighting. Jules got yelled at here. -10 points.

- CLE Cleveland Ohio. Another airport that is home of warm memories due to loved ones but just really not the vibe as an airport.

C TIER:

- LGW London Gatwick. I don’t like you for no reason. Like a disappointment, you’re in London but not at Heathrow for some reason.

- PHL Philadelphia. Again, weird aimless dislike. I cannot justify.

- BNA Nashville. Meh. Fine, which may be the worst insult I can lob at an airport.

D TIER:

- LGA New York LaGaurdia. Fuck you and your tiny spirit terminal in the middle of nowhere and your hard to access rental cars and your poor road signage that sent me round and round on the New York interstate in my rented Corolla. The bigger terminals are pretty though, and anyway. New York City!

E TIER:

JAX Jacksonville. Ew.

F TIER:

BOS Boston Logan International Airport. I loathe you. Less busy numerically than ATL and yet somehow even more spread out. Signage is bad. Directions unclear. Nothing makes sense in this alternate reality. Labyrinthine building designed by the god Hades. Never again would be too soon.

UNTIERABLE:

ATL - Hartsfield Jackson Atlanta. The biggest and busiest airport in the world. When you buy a ticket on Delta a box pops up that says “by buying this ticket you agree to see the inside of Hartsfield Jackson Airport.” Not actually a real place, but a floating parallel dimensional space you enter when you walk through the doors. When you get off the Plane Train at terminal D a sign to the left points down a hallway and says “Walk to Terminal E. Time: 45 minutes.” Bigger than many cities and some European principalities. And sometimes you’ll be forced to run clear across it when your gate gets changed. Send every domestic flight that goes near it and many that don’t through it for a completely unnecessary 45 minute layover and sautée until golden brown to birth this unholy god of a space outside all time. They have CPR training machines. They have bathrooms too rarely. They have a whole other airport underneath for international transfers. Don’t die before you see it. Everyone should, at least once. 🎶Welcome Aboard the Plane Train!🎶 next stop: the 4th circle of hell. Walk to purgatory: 45 minutes. Moving sidewalk out of order.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡Our Promise｡⋆.

Jason Todd x plus size reader

There are those in the world who are destined to be- through unimaginable challenges they will find each other, no matter what.

Warnings: tiny hint of star-crossed lovers, I made this long as hell for no reason other than i got really into it, fluff so much goddamn fluff, reader has shitty parents, mentions of convents and being sent away, references to pregnancy and sex, also Jason is totally a girl dad- fight me, some drinking

WC: 2.7k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You could safely categorise your life into three parts- when you met Jason Todd, the day you were reunited and the moment he made your life complete. You found him in the library on the border of Crime Alley when you were both barely 10, the starving little boy and the socialite-in-training. You both reached for the same copy of Jane Eyre but quickly threw yourselves apart the moment your fingers touched. His face blazed deep red under the smudge of dirt on his cheek and nose as you bashfully looked away.

There was a brief moment of silence as he took you in: perfectly clean and pressed pink dress with brand new black Mary Janes before he asked- “wanna share?” You sat side-by-side on one of the large bean bags in a quiet corner of the old building, taking turns reading aloud to each other before being kicked out by the ancient librarian well after closing.

You saw him every chance you could, sneaking away from your tutors just to join him on little adventures through Gotham or just reading together. Jason became your sanctuary, your escape from the cruel jabs of your mother and the cold shoulder from your father. He was the only one to make you smile, and dare you say it but the first boy you fell in love with (not that you could admit it even to yourself). 

Everything was great, for a while but all good things must come to an end. Your father had become suspicious of your continued absence from your vital lessons so he sent one of his many bodyguards to trail you for a while. You were found curled into Jason’s side as he attempted his hand at reading Shakespeare, of course failing horribly. You screamed and cried as the huge brute pulled you away from your only friend, shoving you into a huge black SUV as Jason screamed for you.

The last time you ever saw him was that day as he chased the car down the busy Gotham street before he was left in the dust as you sped off, his voice just barely carried on the wind, “I’ll find you!”. You would never forget the pure heartbreak that his blue eyes held as you were ripped away from him. It haunted you when you were forced onto a plane destined for France and each night you spent in that convent where you would spend all of your teenage years. 

You were shaped into the woman your parents wanted you to be. You were graceful, eloquent and intelligent, smart enough to navigate the intricacies of high society while hiding your true motives. And for that, you were granted a reprieve from the overbearing and downright cruel nuns who had controlled you for so long.

About a week after you turned 21, you were finally allowed to return home, of course under the condition that you were to be presented to the Gothamite society for possible suitors. And what better place to do that than an infamous Wayne gala. Dressed to the nines in a deep red velvet dress that hugged your generous curves like a second skin, you immediately drew everyone’s eyes. But you truly did not care, if it had been up to you, you would’ve been at home with a good book or even in some far off place after having faked your death.

Unfortunately, you were stuck here. So you decided to drink. Saddled up to the open bar, you sipped on the expensive whiskey that was provided by the generous mister Wayne and scanned the crowd. You knew the people your parents wished for you to marry- the uptight men and women who pretended to be good people while actively letting Gotham fall to ruins. 

The thought of being forced to marry anyone at this party made you feel physically ill. You glanced over your shoulder to where well-dressed waiters continuously streamed from a side hall. Maybe you could make a run for it if only someone would create a distraction.

“You know I take great offence when beautiful young women such as yourself aren’t having fun at a party in my home.” A large man slid up to the bar next to you. Dressed in a navy suit with his dark hair slicked back, eyes shining with a mischievous glint, you immediately knew who he was.

“I’m assuming you’re Richard Grayson.” You raised a brow at him and took a sip of your drink. He beamed at you, letting his gaze roam your body before meeting your eyes once again. He slid closer, his muscular body now mere inches from you. 

“Call me Dick. And who would I have the pleasure of spending this evening with?” You allowed him to take your left hand and lay a soft kiss to your knuckles. Your stomach still turned in disgust but less so than when the mayor’s son had attempted the same move a mere 15 minutes ago.

You gave him your name and suddenly Dick stiffened, his face paling. “Y/N Y/L/N? As in the only daughter of the Y/L/N family who’s been missing for the past decade?” 

“The one and only.” You responded with some confusion. Quickly, the eldest Wayne son straightened up, a kinder but somehow sadder smile growing on his face. A strong arm wrapped around your wide hips in a somehow friendly gesture and pulled the drink from your hand. 

“Then I have someone you just have to meet, plus it’ll get you out of this party.” You were wary, of course and evidently it showed on your face because Dick scrambled to ease your nerves. “Just trust me- I wouldn’t do this unless I really meant it. Besides, you can use that knife that’s strapped to your thigh on me if you need. I can see the outline of the hilt through your dress. You need to learn to hide it better.” He chuckled at your wide eyes, using your shock to quickly guide you from the huge ballroom and deeper into the bowels of the mansion.

Your high heels and his black dress shoes clacked against the dark hardwood in sync, the sound quickly drowning out the increasingly soft chattering of the gala attendants until all you could hear were your footsteps. Dick’s hand had now shifted to the small of your back, directing you through the empty halls and up a flight of stairs before reaching the only door with light streaming through the bottom.

He gave you a wink and knocked, opening the door before the occupant could answer. The room was childish, decorated in posters and tacked up photos. An old guitar sat in the far corner, almost entirely hidden by open cardboard boxes, all of which were half-full of trinkets that had only just been taken down from dusty shelves. A giant of a man sat on the double bed in the middle of the room, holding a worn book that had definitely seen better days.

He sighed heavily as Dick opened the door even further, gesturing for you to enter. “What part about ‘I don’t want to see your dumb fugly face until tomorrow’ didn’t you get?” You were ashamed to admit but the deepness and pitch of the mysterious man’s voice sent a flutter of arousal through your belly. Dick just huffed under his breath.

“Well I brought you a present so you’ll have to forgive me.” You sent a furious look his way, missing how the other man raised his head, his eyes settling on your figure. The mattress springs creaked, making your whip your head around.

He easily stood at a massive 6’6, towering over not only you but Dick as well. And with the addition of his whole body being practically made of muscles, he was terrifyingly huge. But you weren’t scared. 

You were frozen in place, stunned by the bright green eyes that started back at you in a way that felt so painfully familiar. “Y/N?”

“Jason?”

——————

It was surprisingly easy for your lives to mesh together again, especially since Jason somehow convinced your parents to let you move into your own apartment (you never wanted to know how exactly he accomplished that). But you never spent any time there- it was abandoned in favour of spending all your time in Wayne Manor, with Jason of course.

Your cheeks constantly ached from smiling and there seemed to be a permanent soreness in your ribs from how hard he made you laugh. Both of you were different, no longer the children you used to be but adults who had been shattered and glued back together so many times that you could no longer tell which parts of you remained unbroken, but you were together and that was more than enough.

You spent days just talking, huddled together on his bed, the large couch in the den and even the roof, although that stopped when Alfred found you one night and almost had a heart attack. And the days you didn’t or couldn’t talk, you would hold each other. Legs tangled and foreheads pressed so tightly together, your noses were squished. It was like you were physically glued together, unable to let go for the fear of losing each other again.

Even the both of you admitted that it was absolutely disgusting (which the rest of the Waynes wholeheartedly agreed with) but you were happy so what did it matter.

Sleep hovered on the edges of your vision as you snuggled further into the heated blanket around your shoulders. Unconsciously, your legs squeezed together as you got comfortable, your soft inner thighs pressing against the sides of Jason’s head. He grunted and assuming you squeezed him too tight, you tried to pull your legs up to fold them underneath you. He grabbed your shin with his right hand, only briefly letting go of the game controller, and forced the soft muscle back against his strong chest where your legs had been dangling. “Stop moving around. You’re supposed to be my pillow.” He mumbled.

You buried your hand in his back hair, scratching his scalp with your nails. “Sorry Jay.” He practically purred as he relaxed back into you, giving a sweet peck to the inside of your knee. The sounds from his video game started up again and your eyes fluttered shut. Just as you were being lulled to sleep by the repetitive sounds of fake gunfire and footsteps, another, much younger voice spoke up.

“I don’t get it.” Damian stood with his arms crossed right on the threshold of the room. His gaze firmly fixed on you and his brother, who sat on the floor in front of you, your legs thrown over his shoulders. “You both are so affectionate to each other and yet you are not a couple.” You just shrugged.

“Friends can be touchy and it’s still considered platonic.” You felt Jason nod against your leg.

“We’re best friends who both had a shitty upbringing. We’re obviously severely codependent so you might as well leave us alone cause it’s only gonna get worse from here.” His deep voice vibrated up the  length of your thigh and you had to make an effort not to squeeze his head once more although this time for a whole other reason.

Damian’s scowl darkened almost comically. “But won’t any partners you have take issue with that?” That made both of you pause. Ever since Jason had come back to you, you hadn’t even thought of anyone else. He consumed your entire being, not leaving space for anyone else. And you were just fine with that but what if Jason didn’t feel the same? Could you deal with another woman in his life?

Your stomach churned at the thought of his arm around someone else’s shoulder, of his lips on their skin, of him sleeping with them. Unbeknownst to you, the man nestled between your legs was having the same thoughts.

His eyes quickly grew dark with a burning fury. Without a word, he threw your legs from his broad shoulders and stood up. He shot Damian a withering look as he strode from the room, leaving you both in confused silence. You glanced at the tween but he held no answers. Before you could get up to follow your friend, he returned.

“Jason?” He grabbed your hands and tugged you violently to your feet. Jason smirked at you with a wink, making your heart skip a beat. 

“Observe demon spawn.” And then suddenly, he was on one knee, holding a ring. It was simple- a gold band with a singular teardrop stone in the centre. The band was scratched and the diamond didn’t shine, worn down with age but none of that mattered because the man you loved more than anything, your soulmate, your best friend was offering it to you with the most gentle smile you had ever seen. The same smile he gave you in that decrepit library so long ago.

He didn’t even have to ask. “Yeah?” He gestured to the ring. You giggled through the tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Yeah.” You nodded and held out your left hand, allowing him to slip the perfectly sized ring onto your finger. Jason sprung to his feet, immediately taking your face into his large hands. There was a moment where your eyes met and then he kissed you.

Stars exploded around you as the kiss slowly deepened. Jason’s hands moved to your wide hips, tugging you even closer.

“What the hell kind of proposal was that?!” Startled, you jumped apart like caught teens, only to be greeted with the sight of his whole family in absolute hysterics. Tim was obviously the one that yelled given his red face and clearly exacerbated expression. 

The others were stunned into silence save for Bruce who was quietly sniffling into a handkerchief. You and your fiancé glanced at each other, unable to hold back your smiles.

“I had to make sure that she was my best friend forever.”

——————

The last coat of house paint was drying quickly in the hot August sun, giving Jason a chance to sit in the shade of the huge Oak tree in the backyard. The ground vibrated beneath him as he collapsed onto the cool grass, his head falling back against the trunk.

He groaned as he stretched out his long legs in front of him. The renovations to the house were coming along slowly but Jason couldn’t be mad about it considering it was mostly his fault. “Daddy!” A blur of blue slammed into his chest, briefly knocking the wind from his lungs. There was the reason for the delay in renovations.

“Well hello miss Jane! How was your nap?” Eyes identical to his own looked up at him, sparkling with newfound energy. Her dark blue smock dress (the exact colour of uncle Dickie's uniform) floated around her legs as he planted herself on his thighs.

“Was good! Mama let me sleep in the big bed!” Jason smoothed down her black hair which was still mussed from sleep, smiling softly at his 4 year old.

“She was a very good girl, helping me with making her daddy a special drink and feeding the baby.” You practically glided over the lawn, still glowing from pregnancy even though Elizabeth was now three months old. You held a large glass of cold lemonade in your left hand, making your wedding bands glint beautifully in the sun.

Lizzie was dead asleep in the sling across your chest, making Jason’s heart clench with fondness. He took the drink from you, taking a big sip and just barely suppressing a cough. Evidently you had added something a little extra to his as a treat. “Thank you pretty girl.” He managed to get out through the burning in his throat. 

You smirked evilly at him as you pressed a kiss to your baby’s head. “You’re welcome daddy!” She giggled and slid from his lap so she could bolt over to the play structure he had built for her birthday. Jason watched her run off before turning to you.

“You are in for it Mrs Todd.” He growled playfully, his hand curling around your ankle.

“Well then it’s a good thing that the kids are having a sleepover with grandpa B and uncle Dami tonight isn’t it?” You beamed, running your hand through his hair. Your husband nuzzled into your touch, soaking up all the affection you were offering.

Jason Todd was your promise, your life, your everything.

Request: Jason Todd x chubby reader where they’ve been best friend before he was adopted by Bruce but lost contact because he couldn’t find her . One day he came across her again and promised to not let her go so he’s been clinging to her almost all the time, and whenever she hangs out at the manner with his brothers he’s not ashamed to be close to her, putting his head on her lap, or even sitting down in front of her with her legs open as he laid to her front while playing video games with his brothers. His brothers wouldn’t dare to teased him anymore because once they did it, Jason just didn’t care and continued cling to her. One day Damian said something like “they’re acting like a couple but they’re just friends, and it’s absurd” then Jason just casually asked if she would like to be his best friend forever and pulling out a ring which God know how long does he kept it for and everybody in the manor were just too stunned to react as reader teared up and said yes softly. Then Jason kissed her for the first time “Damn, I could do this every day.” “Now we’re best friend forever, you cannot leave me” and started to randomly being cute (as always when he is with her) planning to move to their own house, and telling her how many children does she want and just being cute imagining many little mini me(s). @wittysunflower

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[cartoondrawer]

As the villains had continued their meeting for their next plan, a knock on the door was heard. Everyone went silent as the knocking got louder. Zach sighed and started walking towards the door, although Donita got up, grabbing him.

Donita: “Zach. I don’t think you should open it.”

Zach: “Why not?”

Donita: “..Because we are on your plane. Flying. I don’t know how someone would be knocking.

The door bursted open, interrupting Donita. Floating in the doorway was Indigo, who seemed pissed off. She was being held by one of her robots who had a similar structure to Donita’s mannequins, except they had more animal features.

Indigo: “Ah..the old crew..oh and some new friends?”

As her robot dropped her into the plane, Zach and Donita froze. Indigo glanced at Paisley and Rex, heading towards them.

Gourmand: “Indigo! How are you doing-“

Zach: “Don’t.”

Indigo turned around for a moment before continuing to look at the two newer villains.

Indigo: “Huh. Tried to replace me with them..huh? Maybe next time don’t choose a..tiny option.”

Paisley: “Excuse me?”

Rex was very quiet, staring at Indigo.

Indigo: “Oh? Rex. Haven’t seen you in a long while..”

Indigo seemed to know Rex and was now more irritated. Everyone else had obviously been a bit weirded out, especially Donita and Zach. Zach started yelling out.

Zach: “Rex! You know this woman?!?”

Rex: “I-it’s complicated!!! I-“

Indigo: “What a coincidence!~ Well..I came here for one thing.”

Reaching into her jacket’s pocket, her hand pressed down a button which made the Zachbots purple-ish instead of red.

Zach: “HEY! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!?”

Zach ran at Indigo, trying to take the button away. But before he could grab her, one of the Zachbots grabbed him by the arm tightly. Gourmand and Dabio were surprised considering Indigo wasn’t like this…at least that’s what they thought.

Gourmand: “What the hell?! What are you doing-“

As Indigo stood there smiling, the rest of the villains got grabbed by Zachbots. Indigo whispered to herself as she opened the back of the plane, revealing they were above water.

Indigo: “Might as well dump you all here now. You guys have no purpose to my plan.”

All 6 of the villains started yelling and protesting over each other, making Indigo groan.

Indigo: “Seriously? You guys weren’t this loud when I was here..I’m getting tired of you honestly.”

The Zachbots held the villains over the edge as they became silent.

Gourmand: “What the hell is wrong with you?!?”

Indigo looked at Gourmand, rolling her eyes. She snapped her fingers as the Zachbots dropped them. She smiled as their screams were heard..getting quieter and quieter…stopping.

————————————————————————

…

Land? Maybe.

Zach woke up to be soaking wet but luckily on sand. He looked around to see the other villains waking up too, they all seemed to be alright.

Zach: “W..what the..?”

Donita: “U-ugh. Sand.”

Dabio: “Donita! Are you alright?”

Donita: “I-I’m fine. What just happened?!”

Zach got up, wiping some of the sand off himself. He turned to Rex who was helping Paisley up.

Zach: “You..you knew Indigo?”

Rex: “…Yeah. She’s uh..an old friend.”

Zach: “Damn it..”

Gourmand: “So what’s going on?! Why did she attack us?!?”

Zach went silent, shrugging it off as if he didn’t know. As everyone else was trying to get sand off and trying to get dry, Donita turned around.

“Oh god.”

The Tortuga. They ended up at the damn Tortuga.

Donita looked back at the others who noticed already, sighing.

Donita: “Should we?-“

Zach: “THERE IS NO WAY I’M GOING IN THERE.”

Gourmand: “I agree!”

Donita: “Well then..I’m going in.”

The rest of them gasped as Donita walked away, heading towards the Tortuga.

Paisley: “I hate to agree with Donita..but she’s possibly right.”

Zach: “EXCUSE ME?”

Paisley: “They are possibly the only people who can actually help us. I think it’s best we get assistance.”

Zach glanced at Gourmand, Dabio and Rex and groaned.

Zach: “FINE. Just this once.”

Paisley nodded as the rest of them caught up to Donita.

————————————————————————

Koki heard a knock, turning to Aviva.

Aviva: “Be careful, we don’t know if it’s that Indigo..”

Koki: “Of course!”

Koki ran to the entrance and pressed the button to open the door. She was frightened by the sudden appearance of their enemies. She almost closed the door suddenly..

Donita: “Wait wait! We need your help..please?”

Koki: “How do I know it’s not a..trick?”

Donita: “I literally-“

She glanced at the villains before turning back to Koki. She whispered.

Donita: “I saved the brothers? Just let us in, we need your help..”

Koki took notice of the villains, realizing they have nothing on them. She sighed and smiled awkwardly.

Koki: “Okay. Just..NO funny business. Alright?”

Zach: “YES! THANK YOU!”

Koki moved out of the way as the villains walked in. Aviva saw as Koki glanced at her, shrugging.

Aviva: “Wha..what’s going on here?”

Koki: “They need help or something…”

Aviva noticed Zach as he turned away.

Aviva: “This isn’t another one of you-

Zach: “NO. Just let us explain!”

Aviva: “Fine. 5 minutes.”

————————————————————————

[axailslink]

Shuri being protecting and possessive over reader

Not my girlfriend my wife!

Shuri x black fem reader

Summary: Shuri does not take kindly to other women trying to hit on you I mean she takes it to heart it makes her feel as if she's not showing that you two are a couple enough. So when this happens she makes it well known that you belong to someone and not just anyone her.

By the way this is the swimsuit I usually don't add pics and leave it to the imagination but bruh c'mon you can't say you wouldn't look bomb in this! (This goes out to all my readers my big girls my tiny bitches it's okay you'd rock the hell out of this!)

You and Shuri rarely got days where you could just leave and go on a date so when she told you you'd both would be able to go on a two day date anywhere you wanted you were packing immediately. "Babe, where's my swimsuit?" Shuri acts as if she doesn't hear you because that swimsuit you were talking about the really cheeky one which showed the curve of your ass and had everyone looking yeah she threw that away. "Shuri Udaku I know you hear me" she laughs when you say her full name "baby I don't know" you cross your arms and walk in the bathroom in front of her coming face to face with her well the most you can she is a bit taller than you so you have to look up regardless.

"You're lying" she places her hand on her chest and looks hurt at your accusation as her toothbrush hangs out her mouth "I am not" she says gently pushing you over to finish brushing "yes you are and I know you are because the last time I wore it you had to rip it off me I remember that night well everyone heard me" she smiles to herself obviously proud of her past actions. "No one looked at you again though did they?" You laugh before kissing her toothpaste covered cheek not knowing how she even got toothpaste there "you threw it away didn't you?" She sighs before answering "maybe but I bought a new one to replace it and you're going to love it" you hum "and why is that?" She chuckles as she washes her face "it comes with a shaw that covers everything" you groan "baby I got ass for a reason why is you tryna hide it?"

"Because you're not one of those women who just sits there and looks pretty you like to jump around and play and smile. When I fell in love with you you were wearing what? A swimsuit!" You laugh and turn around looking at your ass in the mirror "well that's your nasty old mind" she walks out of the bathroom and comes behind you "I just can feel that someone's going to try something and I can't afford to act like a fool for when they do." You turn and wrap your arms around her neck pulling her down so that you can kiss her she hums and picks you up "no Shuri you're gonna make us late you do this every date night!" She smiles as she sits you on the dining room table "you're never complaining when you're finished" you slap her shoulder "that doesn't matter..." Your words drift off as her hands find their way to the back of your bra gently unclipping it and catching your lips in a kiss. "Thirty minutes won't hurt you'll get some good sleep on the plane" you nod as your hands gently rub their way into her hair as she kisses down the middle of your chest then tummy and stops right above your underwear.

.

You walk in the hotel room full of delight your baby believed in only the best for you and her and you loved her for it she knew nothing of small gifts either. She really believed in the saying go big or go home. You look at the room and then her "you really do go all out" she smiles and places her bag down and the key card on the desk before closing the door "of course how long has it been since we had a day where I wasn't being Queen and telling people what to do or doing this or that and where you weren't controlling my lab for me?" You shrug "what? About a couple of months?" She nods and laughs "for real it's exhausting we haven't had a proper day to ourselves I haven't been able to properly please you and that's annoying." You nod in agreement "that is annoying it's like the world knows when we're trying to be emotional, vulnerable, or horny and just cuts in."

"Today and tomorrow is just for us so how about you got try that swimsuit on? I promise it's not as bad as you think" you grimace and glance at your bag "if you could put a trash bag on me you would" she laughs and shakes her head before kissing your forehead "only out of love of course" you mumble to yourself "out of jealousy" she cocks her brow "speak up I hate when you mumble" you have a love hate relationship for when she starts to get demanding it turns you on but also makes you feel a bit threatened.

You shake your head and grab your bag placing it on the bed "nope I've got nothing to say" she hums and watches as you slowly get undressed "if you're teasing me you should wait until the day is over with it has been a while" you laugh and throw your shirt at her "stop being a horn dog I'm simply getting undressed" she lets her eyes scan you up and down looking at your collar bones and how pretty the dip is then you your shoulders and your round breasts-"aye aye stop eye fucking me" she smiles "I can't help it my girlfriend is truly so fine" you nod "that's usually my line" she shrugs and walks to the bathroom "maybe you've inspired me to start speaking like you."

You find yourself feeling yourself in the swimsuit your girlfriend bought it's a simple two piece nothing extravagant It's you that makes it extravagant however your ass fits firmly into the bottoms and your breasts practically hugging the fabric. Shuri walks out of the bathroom and shakes her head "no goodness gracious why do you fill everything out so well loosen them damn strings" you laugh at her reaction and shake your head no "oh no this is too cute" she groans and throws the shaw at you "put on this on please I'mma have to fight off women, men and the flies." You laugh and pull the shaw over it it's a mesh fabric not doing much to hide anything more but it's cute. Shuri fixes her top and tightens her top you groan at her fit "babe you always dressing like a five year old boy take those damn shorts off show a little ass or something" you say she looks you up and down "absolutely not don't nobody to see all that I have my breast out that ain't enough?" You straight face her before flicking her titty. "No it's not enough take the shorts off c'mon for me you'd look so cute" she groans as you gently pull on the waist band of the shorts slowly pulling them down and leaning down with each tug. "You and this teasing I'mma have to have you on your knees for real when we get back" you smile and look up at her as you let your hands run up her bare legs she shakes her head "stop before you start something" you pout and stand up. "Fine I'm done."

After continuously flirting the whole way there you two make it to the beautiful beach. Shuri just couldn't stand to go there practically naked so she borrowed your shaw which you didn't mind that meant you could shake ass easier she wasn't too fond of that but your things were left in the hotel.

Shuri's the first one in the water you follow quickly behind her though wrapping your arms around her neck and kissing her she hums into the kiss but doesn't see it coming as you pick her up and let her fall into the water. You hurriedly run back to your things in the sand as she practically drowns in the process of trying to get you. You smile at her from both of your towels and she laughs staying in the water is much cooler there you decide to lay on your stomach and just let the sun soak the water from your back. After a while you start scrolling through your phone and turn to take some pictures of Shuri in the water her hair wet and dripping onto her face and her body as always is amazing her toned arms remind you of the many hugs she gives you as her round breast the many naked nights. She notices you taking pictures and starts doing goofy poses causing you to laugh and smile to yourself.

However your fun is interrupted when a woman approaches attractive sure but as attractive as your baby? Fuck no "you need something?" You ask sitting up and putting your braids in a bun she shakes her head "I've just got to say you are truly gorgeous. What would I have to do to get your number?" You always found women like this attractive bold and taller than you that's why you liked Shuri but again that's why you like Shuri your girlfriend of three years you wouldn't dare look in another woman's eyes. You laugh before replying "a lot is what you'd have to do my girlfriend doesn't take kindly to people hitting on me and I don't think she's too fond of you right now" the woman shrugs and you wish you could physically say "go somewhere else I'm trying to save you!" At her but she seems determined even after the "girlfriend" line. You can see Shuri approaching you both with a stare that could kill and you look at her with pleading eyes.

"I don't see a girlfriend" you smile and return your attention to your phone "miss I'm sure you're lovely but I have a girlfriend of three years who is quick to anger and is not a fan of other confident women. Please leave me before you get me and you in trouble." She nods and turns around coming face to face with a fuming Shuri.

"Go ahead please" you can hear her accent loud and clear as she speaks to the woman daring her to say something the woman is taller than her but that doesn't bother Shuri as she stares her down like a predator to its prey. The woman walks off with no words said and you laugh "baby" she groans and take the shaw off tossing it at you "cover up now please" you laugh and pull the shaw over your head "can't leave you for five damn minutes without someone trying to take you from me" you shake your head and pull her down onto your towels "stop it no one could ever take me away from you" you say pecking her lips she hums and grabs the back of your head pushing you further into her making the kiss wilder and quite frisky you pull away and pat her chest "Shuri there are kids around" she shrugs "you don't even like kids" you shrug"but I want them to still have their innocence" she sucks her teeth. "Are you denying my kiss?" You try to stop the smile that appears on your face as you nod as she gasps as if she's been impaled "how dare you my girlfriend doesn't love me any more! She won't kiss me!" You immediately grab her by her face trying to keep her quiet. "Stop stop" "she prefers someone else!" You press your lips to hers and rub her cheeks "stop" she smiles but not at you she's looking past you at the woman from earlier "oh I'm sorry did I say girlfriend I meant wife!" You laugh and shake your head.

"I did mean that though..." You look at her confused for a moment "what?" "Wife would you be my wife?" She can see the scream boiling up in your throat as she covers your mouth you swallow for a moment and look at her with wide eyes "you want to marry me?" She smiles and kisses your forehead "forever" you look at her smiling so hard tears stream down your cheeks. "Hold on I can't answer that right now I need to breathe" you place a hand on your chest and compose yourself before looking back at her anticipated face "yes Shuri stop looking at me like that" she picks you up and kisses you so many times you can't count them.

A/n: I don't know how this turned into a proposal thing I just let my hand guide the story. Anyways enjoy.

[basilone]

22 for Nora Graham from the trio prompts?

Thank you for sending this one! Prompt 22 is a red convertible, a priest’s collar and dogtags... which naturally made me think of Nora & Crank! 😊 I hope you will like this one.

It’s remarkably easy to hide this.

It helps, she supposes, that most days when she walks out the girls aren’t clamoring a where are you going, Nora at her. They used to back when they were in training, but she’s well-practiced enough to make everything she does sound like a great boring yawn. Just going to grab another cup of coffee, just going on a walk and watch the birds, just going to find a place to sit and draw my maps in peace, and nobody bothers to ask to come along to any of that.

She sometimes wonders how it is that they didn’t wash out. Tiny spends more time gossiping than anyone she knows, but yet managed to get her pilot license just fine. Val and Push are some of the most combative arguers she’s ever met, getting into trouble for it until they’re airborne and doing their jobs better than anybody. By all rights, Frosty should have been on the outs when the brass figured out just what that Lombardi surname was about – all Chicago mob in that girl, right down to her stash of cash and jewels – but then Frosty’d calculated a bomb drop with alarming accuracy and that had stopped them all cold.

Nora supposes beggars can’t be choosers in a time of war. Whatever she considers to be their personal flaws – Max calling girls pretty but never calling a man handsome, One-Eye’s refusal to sleep without her teddy, Dee’s hatred of men’s mustaches – are things that Colonel Huglin and Colonel Harding both wouldn’t give a damn about. As long as they can fly right, it hardly matters what they do when down on the ground.

“You’re doing it again,” says Charles, then, all soft admonishment beside her.

She allows her grin to stretch to the corners of her mouth. “Doing what?”

“Thinking too hard for the occasion.”

“One of us ought to,” she says, turning her head only to find him smiling at her already. “Just realizing that nobody cares what we do as long as we’re able to get into a bomber and give hell to everyone who deserves it. It’s a sole purpose sort of thing, you know?”

“Hmm.”

“That’s a hmm, Nora, you are clever but I disagree sort of hmm.”

“I wouldn’t say nobody cares.” His voice is as earnest as his eyes – soft yet unyielding – and a soft sigh accompanies his words. “They care enough to send us to a flak house, or give us weekend passes when we really need them. They care enough to keep us grounded when we fly too much. Buck would’ve passed out if they’d made him fly one more run, but they sent him to barracks and made Lottie fly with DeMarco day before last.”

“Which was a great decision, considering that she is finally realizing this fad of hers with Darlene won’t last and DeMarco’s solely responsible for that realization hitting her at all,” says Nora, rolling her eyes a little to let Charles know just what she thinks of all that. “It was like being in a plane with my parents, who’d also pretend everything is fine while making you feel miserable over dinner. Val kept talking over comms just to stave off how unbelievably awkward it was to have DeMarco in our plane. It took two hours before Lottie gave him more than one syllable answers. Two hours, Charles!”

“At least they’re talking again now, aren’t they? I would say it worked out all right.”

“Of course you would say that, you weren’t stuck in a bomber having to give directions to two pilots who both like the same girl,” snorts Nora as she gives him a nudge. “I still don’t think that’s a lot of care going into those sorts of decisions, you know.”

“If nobody cared,” he hums, taking a sip of his coffee, “I could marry you tomorrow without either one of us being sent home about that.”

Nora feels herself flushing crimson from the root of her hair all the way down to her toes. “I thought you said we had to wait until we got home? That you wanted that sweet red convertible to drive us off into the sunset with?” she teases, remembering some of his more fanciful daydreams she had laughed about before realizing he was really quite serious. “Maybe we should get married – find someone with a priest’s collar to do the job – and just not tell anybody.”

Charles’s eyes crinkle into a broad smile. “Don’t have a ring,” he says, ducking his head slightly as he takes a bigger gulp of his drink. “Am saving up to get you one. That’s easy enough, just need to avoid playing craps with DeMarco for a while...”

“We could… exchange dogtags. Or ask Two what sort of thing she’s exchanging with Blakely the second they go on leave.”

“What?”

“Apparently they’re getting married,” shrugs Nora, having mostly learned this through Tiny’s inability to keep quiet about anything. “They’re being too obvious about it, once you know where to look”– Two’s post-flight smiles, Blakely’s refusal to dance with other girls –“but I suppose not everyone is as good as us at hiding that sort of thing. We could pull a sneak wedding off better than they could.”

“Or we could wait,” he says, hand finding hers, “and do all of it better than they could. None of this hurried business where you don’t even have a dress for the occasion. I want us to have a moment, Nora. Something just for us, without…”

“Without the war peeking around the corner asking us to get back into our bombers,” she sighs, dropping her head onto his shoulder. “I know. I want that, too. That moment with you, where it’s nothing but us, where it’s just love. I was just…” Being silly, she almost says, except she doesn’t think Charles would find it silly at all. “I was just getting ahead of myself.”

“I was there with you. Ahead and terribly in love with you about it.”

“Really? Tell me more about that,” she smiles, lifting her head off his shoulder just to kiss his cheek. “How in love are we talking, hm?” She can’t help but giggle as he takes his time to set his coffee cup down. “Oh, you need to take a moment, Charl–mmph!”

“More than a moment,” he laughs, once he pulls back from their kiss. “I am, after all, very in love.”

“Keep talking,” she says, before kissing him briefly.

“Can’t,” he breathes as her hands slip into his curls, “unless by talking you mean…”

Nora tilts her head. Nudges her nose against his a moment. “Kiss me more?”

It shouldn’t be easy to hide this. But for now, toppled over in the grass and laughing about it, Nora is glad this is the one thing she doesn’t have to share.

[britswriting]

Visiting Y/N on Campus! H.S

Summery: Harry surprises his girlfriend on campus!

Rate: Everyone - brief swearing

WC: 2k - fluff Xx

Masterlist

Read on Wattpad

Harrysbabyhoney: Harry Styles spotted at an airport in Boston this morning!

Simone34857: Help I almost shat my pants seeing Harry Styles 😭 It was 4am. I wanted a snack- HE SAW ME LOOK LIKE A RAT KILL ME

All the girls at Y/N’s University were losing their minds as Harry swiftly walked through the campus, knowing exactly where he was going.

He gave quick waves and head nods to passing fans, walking too fast for them to ask for photos.

He took the stairs by two, wanting to get to his girlfriend as quickly as possible. He stopped at the RA’s desk, signing in on the sheet, thanking the young woman who seemed to care less.

16, 18, 20 he mumbled to himself, checking his phone once more before knocking on room 24, a smile on his face as he heard shuffling.

The door whipped open, his stunning girlfriend wearing a look of shock.

“Hi love”

“Shut the hell up!” She gasped, Harry laughing, opening his arms.

“Surprise?”

“You suck so bad, Styles! I look like shit” She frowned, looking down at her three day old clothes, knowing her hair hasn’t been brushed in a week and her face has crusty makeup on it from the night before.

“Gunna let me in sweetheart?” He asked, a tiny smirk appearing on her face as she went to shut the door in his face, Harry’s palm slapping the hard wooden door, stopping it. “You think you’re so cute” 

“Actually-”

“Shut up and kiss me or I’m getting back on that plane to London” He threatened, Y/N pulling him into her dorm, letting the door shut as their lips locked. “I’ve missed you baby”

Y/N showed Harry all her course work, Harry having asked how college was going, joking that he would’ve dropped out the second they said he would have to buy a $100 textbook.

“Okay Mr. Multimillionaire” She laughed, setting the textbook aside.

That evening they decided to be risky and slip out of the dorms, Harry having been craving Sushi, promising Y/N they’d stop at her favorite market on the way back.

Hand in hand they walked through campus, the sushi place being around the corner.

“Y/N?” A girl said, causing his girlfriend to turn and look, Harry following her lead. “You’re dating Harry Styles?” She asked, Y/N immediately freezing.

“Just hanging out. See you later Mimi” Y/N waved, tugging Harry away who was giggling to himself. “I swear I just watched you shit your pants”

“You’re the one who suggested we leave the safety of my dorm!” 

“Want to explore my beautiful girlfriend's campus. I haven’t been to college, you know? I mean, look at this place” He spoke in awe, tilting his head up as he looked around. “My girlfriend is so smart” He complimented, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

“Harry, we’re in public!” She gasped, shocked by his boldness.

She was surprised they were openly holding hands, and now he’s kissing her cheek? 

“And?”

“I don’t want to be on a tabloid looking like garbage!” she griped, already seeing people’s phones out.

“You don’t look like garbage babe” he reassured her, Y/N shaking her head, “I’m in BU sweatpants and your hoodie. I look like trash”

“We’re literally wearing the same thing”

~

“I don’t know how you eat that shit” She fake gagged, Harry fake a moan as he ate it, smirking at his girlfriend. “That’s disgusting”

“‘I’m so glad you love me so much babe” He teased, picking up a piece of sushi with his chopsticks, trying to force it into her mouth, Y/N’s lips in a thin line as she avoided the gross food, Harry’s grin turning into a laugh.

“You’re an asshole!” She pouted, Harry happily eating the sushi.

“Oh my god, are you Harry Styles?” A girl asked, stopping dead in her tracks by the table.

“I am, hello” He greeted her, setting the chopsticks down, the fan looking over at me, then back at Harry.

“Oh my god, Hi! I love your music! I’m seeing you next year” She exclaimed, a smile on her face.

“Awe, thank you love! Can’t wait to see you. Are you coming to the Boston show?” he asked, the girl nodding.

“I spent my life savings on it, it was worth it!” She giggled, Y/N stealing pieces of rice off Harry’s plate, Harry noticing out of the corner of his eye.

Y/N took the fan’s photo before the fan left them alone.

📍Boston, Massachusetts 

kristina_Heavens: Just met @harrystyles on my BU Campus, what is happening!! 

“Sorry baby” he apologized, turning his plate towards, Y/N, silently offering her his rice.

“S’fine, let me know if you want a box” She murmured, leaning back in her chair, pulling out her phone and subconsciously checking her timeline.

📍Boston, University 

Alyssamorelli: No fucking way is @harrystyles on my fucking campus right now

Y/N quietly sighed, shutting off her phone.

Harry knew that sigh.

“What’s wrong love?”

“We’re all over my friends' Instagram feeds” She mumbled, pinching some of the rice between her fingers, dropping it into her mouth.

“And that’s a problem, why?” He asked, plopping the last piece of sushi into his mouth, his eyes watching her subtle movements.

“It’s not a problem per se.. Just… nervous people will change around me, you know? I like being a loner. It makes skimming by easier” She confessed, Harry letting out a light chuckle.

“Next time I’ll hire an FX artist and transform myself. Show up to your dorm as an old man, big bushy beard, the whole nine yards” he grinned, Y/N smiling, shaking her head.

She gave her student ID to the woman at the counter, getting a discount on the meal, the two of them thanking her and heading out.

That night Y/N cuddled up into Harry’s chest, her laptop playing a Netflix show they had chosen to watch together as she skimmed through her math assignment, anxiously waiting for her roommate to get back.

Before she knew it, Harry had fallen asleep next to her, his arm draped over her lap as she hunched forward, pausing the show only to hear her door open, Freya walking in, her arms full of books.

Freya’s eyes widened, almost dropping her books before whisper yelling “You didn’t tell me he was coming!” to which Y/N whisper yelled “I didn’t know!” 

Y/N proceeded to quietly explain the situation, her roommate dropping all their books onto their bed, falling into their nightly routine as if Harry wasn’t even there.

The next morning Y/N and Harry went out to breakfast together off of campus, going on a mini exploration date; Harry commenting how much he loved Boston’s weather this time of year.

“I thought you were a London boy?” She teased, their hands intertwined as they walked along the sidewalk.

“London is nice in portions” he began to explain, turning to look at his beautiful girlfriend. 

How did he get so lucky?

“In portions?” She laughed, his lips tugging up into a smile, “You told me you loved it there! Now it’s only good in portions?” She giggled.

“It depends if you’re in the mood for the weather it brings, I guess. Plus, it’s busy and uh, being famous.. Can’t really sneak around as much there”

“Are you ever going to bring me?” She joked, Harry’s been hounding her for months, but with her school and work schedule she can’t seem to find any time to free herself from BU’s Campus.

“Don’t even start!” His voice raised, giving her a playful look.

“Oh come on H! Wanna meet your mum” She mocked his accent, Harry faking offense.

“Bloody American you are”

Y/N rolled her eyes, tugging Harry along with her into a shop, promising herself to not buy anymore trinkets, but that didn’t mean Harry wasn’t ready to open up his wallet, finding a magnitude of gifts for his family.

Their last day together was bittersweet, but also welcomed.

Y/N hated leaving him, but she also loved when he came back to surprise her. It gave her something to look forward to each day.

“I’m sorry people took photos of you” Harry murmured into her neck, placing a soft kiss against her skin, Y/N’s arms clinging onto his back.

“It’s alright” She sighed, Harry placing kisses up her jaw to her cheek before letting hips lips linger against her own.

“I’m going to miss you bubs” He frowned slightly at her, Y/N shaking her head.

“Just a phone call away, remember? Plus, I like when you surprise me, you know that” She grinned, Harry nodding, kissing her once more.

“I’m sorry I could only stay for two days-”

“Hey, no. Stop. It’s alright. Two days is better than no days. I’m happy I got to see you at all” She quickly reassured him, her hands reaching for his face, cradling his cheeks between her palms.

“You’re still going to try and come to a show, right?” He asked, Y/N nodding. 

“I really want to. Who knows, maybe I’ll ditch for you” She grinned, Harry’s smirk beginning to show. “It’s just hard since I’m almost graduated. I’ve got so much to do” She pouted, her hands falling down to his waist as Harry’s hands slid around to her ass, resting his hands as he kissed her again.

“Well, I can wait to be there when you get your degree, and I’m sure one of the guys will FaceTime you again if you can’t make it. I know how important graduating with honors is to you, little miss, I want to be the valedictorian”

“Hey! I’m working my ass off! Might as well have something to show for it!” She swatted his arm, harry’s hands moving to her waist, tugging her closer.

“Your master’s isn’t good enough?” he teased, Y/N rolling her eyes.

“Leave me alone Mr. This song is amazing but doesn’t fit the album. Release Singles! You can put things out that aren’t on an album Harry!” She began to argue, one they’ve had a plethora of times, neither one budging.

They playfully argued for a moment before Harry just leaned down and kissed her, knowing it worked every time, unless she truly was pissed, then he was opening a whole new door in satan’s layer.

“I’ve got to get going baby” He reminded her, sadness washing over Y/N again. “I’ve placed my recent hoodie on your bed and yours is in my bag” He reminded her, the ritual becoming a piece of mind for the both of them.

“I still can’t believe it fits you, and you wear it” She snickered, her hands playing with his hair.

“You buy hoodies in my size” he reminded her, chuckling.

“They’re comfy!”

“I know love, why I buy ‘em” 

“Shut up and get out before Jeffery sends a search warrant!” She playfully shoved him towards the door, Harry letting out a crackle.

“I love you too” he teased, his girlfriend grinning.

“I love you more, go be Harry Styles, kay?” 

“As long as I get to come home and be Harry for you”

Y/N nodded, her eyes beginning to sting, knowing he was about to walk out the door and she wouldn’t see him until god knows when.

With one more hug and kiss, the two separated and Harry signed out on the dorm sheet, wishing Y/N’s RA a good evening, repeating his route back to the airport, ready to go take off his BU hoodie and sweatpants, and put on his dazzling suit patterns, perfected hair and impeccable charm, praying that his visit on campus didn’t rise any havoc in his girlfriend’s life.

He was perfectly fine playing the role of Harry Styles, if that meant he got to still be Harry at the end of the day, snuggled up in bed on FaceTime with his girlfriend.

He didn’t know how he got so lucky finding the most incredibly beautiful, smart, ambitious, and extremely understanding girl.

He hoped playing Harry Styles didn't ruin Harry.

[shit-taster-connoisseur]

For the qsmp valetines event, for my giftee @routeriver

howdy!! sorry for the hold up on this one, i went through 4 drafts of this story idea many times until i settled for this one ultimately dhjex hope it's at leasy up to ur taste!!

Some warnings:

-mentions of cannibalism

-unhealthy relationships

-just girls being girls

-some relgious imagery

-a whole lotta demonic imagery/mentions of it at least

But please enjoy some demon!tina x human!bagi :)))

Word count: 1500

The other wordly consumed Bagi's mind, far longer than she was capable of remembering anything.

As where there were meant to be memories were feelings, thoughts–ones she drew down with crayons and a tiny fist. Ranging from spooky men in clothes, the shadowy figures in her room, and more often than not, demons. Demons whose horns curled into knife-like edges, gangly bodies, and claws who knew just how vulnerable human flesh is.

Her obsession sent her into a spiral.

From scrawling demonic pentagrams out of crayons, to drawing pentagrams out of her own blood in high school. It all amounted to nothing in the end.

No breakthroughs or simple summoning gone right.

So she had to become an adult when she was out of excuses. She became the proud graduate her parents wanted, and went to solve the mysteries of the real world.

But the itch to settle old affairs never left her.

So her brother presents her with a book, rustic and its bindings rotting–but ancient with a story: A witch that lived isolated in the woods. One day, the children of the nearest village began to go missing, one-by-one. A mob was sent knocking at the old hag's hut the next day, and what they found was not a rugged woman cooking their children for stew, but a creature ripped from the underworld. The mob forced to watch in horror as it gnawed their children to the bone.

The witch disappeared and was never found, and the story's ending equally lost to time.

The book had been the only trace left behind. Awaiting for its next champion.

So Bagi accepted it and followed it like a commandment and she was a prophet. She wasn't quite in her right mind. Like the witch, perhaps she too was going insane from her isolation, from the mundanity of real life.

And the book offers to fulfill her what she desired most in the world.

So she gets Tina.

There'd been many scenarios Bagi played of what ifs, the first was of what if she had gotten her hands on a demon. The first was taking its head to the street and proving everyone wrong.

But she couldn't do that. Because Tina was much prettier with her head attached to her body.

If Bagi had summoned her with the holy bible, she'd have gotten down on her knees and believed she was a goddess herself. And gladly Bagi would've spent the rest of her years groveling just at Tina's feet to be saved.

But no, Tina is a demon, a woman from hell who makes Bagi feel small, with claws that know the exact pressure to make her bleed, and skin that's a delicious shade of violet.

And Bagi loves her.

It's a realization that shouldn't have taken so long to deduce–Bagi would argue that she fell in love the moment she laid eyes on Tina; her chest had burned with a fire so hot when she took in the demon for the first time, Tina who was still doused in the glow of the summoning circle for which she came from.

The fire in her chest never ceased–even when Tina pestered her, when she once pushed a plate to the ground in an act of defiance when Bagi rejected her deals, offers of riches and fame, time-and-time again. Even when Tina had watched Bagi's chest heave up and down in her sleep every night, it only ever added fuel to the fire.

Because Tina cared. Sure, Bagi had been the reason Tina was bound to her, a chain handcuffed the demon through an oath before Lucifer himself, an unspoken tie between an evoker and the very thing invoked into the existing in the same plane. But she stayed, and she stayed even when she wasn't exactly trapped in Bagi specifically. There had been a world beyond Bagi's shabby walls, Tina could readily explore at the tips of her claws, a world she surely missed. She stayed.

The night they changed, Bagi asked only a question.

“Were you a human before?” She asks through her fatigue. The flashing colors of the tv bathed them both in its artificial light.

Tina had stood behind the couch where Bagi lounged, while her stature dwarfed it, she somehow leaned up against it, craning her spine.

Tina looked cute being so memorized by things so simple–so human. The tv has only a rerun of a show which had been background noise for Bagi, but somehow the center of Tina's world that night.

Such a simple question had ripped Tina out of that world. Bagi had to learn to forgive herself for it.

She looked perplexed, almost solemn as she had lamented over decades of her life.

Still she hadn't speaked, so Bagi almost forgets about it in the fog of her mind.

But like the sun, Tina parts it like clouds. With a, “yes.”

And it hadn't been a shock or a revelation for Bagi. There'd been the small things, like how she'd somehow recognize and listen to niche singers, how she seemed obsessed with an American cartoon show about a bird and cat, that she knew the aroma of tea by heart–all of these things hell wouldn't have.

After that, Tina became shy, a shell of that cocky demon when she thought she had Bagi wrapped around her finger on behalf of all of hell–which she did. When Bagi so much as spotted her, whether a shadow or of the mortal plane, she'd rush off in a flurry of mist.

Bagi hadn't blamed her; she felt like a teenage girl all over again. Obsessing, overthinking every little move a girl of the week made–for a second, she believed Tina hated her, was tired of the mundanity Bagi trapped herself in.

But that wasn't the case. When the thought manifested, a delusion always shoo-ed it away because as she said, Bagi was obsessed. And when she's obsessed, Bagi vision tunnels where she sees only her feelings–and it's unfair, it's unfair to Tina who's been back on earth for however long, who's still not used to the changes that manifested in her absence, and snuck into the world as visitor than a human, a mortal.

So the only thing Bagi was left to do was wait. She was willing to wait forever. As whatever haunts Tina, she'll talk about it–she'll talk to Bagi.

And talk she did. When Tina was finally tired of hiding in her shadows, and places far from Bagi's grasp–she leaned down into Bagi's embrace one day.

The smell of flora choking Bagi in its intensity, but it's addicting, like the cigarettes she had in her pocket that'd surely kill her one day, but no, Tina is a different type of addiction. Because she saved Bagi, and never will Bagi promise to stop the day after.

“I'm fucked up, Bagi.” Tina pleaded against Bagi's neck. But her warnings fell to deaf ears, as all Bagi could remember was the warmth of Tina's breath on her neck, and the vicious grip Tina had on her hips.

Tina ripped herself away, to balance both hands on either side of Bagi's head – she desperately missed her touch.

So Bagi took her cheeks in both hands to wipe away the stray drops of blood pouring out her eyes with a thumb–she could only remember Tina crying.

“You'll fucking hate me.” Tina warned the second time.

Bagi couldn't help but smile to her. Because it was ridiculous, a nightmare never to come true.

“I would never.”

“You will.”

Bagi's hands explored the ever foreign anatomy of her love's face–they eventually found its home, nestled behind and in Tina's white hair.

“It's impossible, Tina.”

“Why not?” Tina hissed, a claw sinking into Bagi's pillow–fluff leaking out. But Bagi had never been deterred once.

“Because I love you.” It made Tina's face soften, her bloody tears slowing, her shock had been palpable–but there'd been a doubt, she studied Bagi's face, looking for any crease in her expression that'd contradict her otherwise. Hoping she had been lying.

To silence it, Bagi leaned up to do something she'd been wanting, praying to do for eons. But it was Tina who kissed Bagi first, maybe, because it's Tina who pulled Bagi up further and connected them at last.

It's not what Bagi had dreamt of. It wasn't as passionate as she wanted, but better, so much better because it's Tina, and her world seemed more bright with Tina.

Amidst it, Tina whispered against her lips between breaths: “I will hurt you.” Spoke like a prophecy rather than a doubt. Bagi would allow it, she'd let Tina feast on her flesh before she went a day starving, she'd let Tina's claws draw wounds on her back if it meant she wouldn't be bored. God, Bagi would accept every slap or scratch, or really anything if it meant Tina would stay.

It hadn't occurred to Bagi then, but perhaps Tina meant hurting her in a different way.

-

[viceroywrites]

better than drugs

pickles x fem!reader

the two of you meet in rehab; him being a metal drummer punished for drinking while operating a hovercraft and you being a recovering alcoholic and drug addict who recently relapsed.

in the short weeks you spent with him, you came to two realizations; he was more addicting than any drug, and you never wanted to quit this drug.

ao3 version here - first two chapters are rewritten on tumblr and the rest will be the same moving forward.

content warning: this story involves discussion of alcoholism, drug usage, and drug addiction. reader is a recovering addict.

chapter two - faith

As you finished unpacking the rest of your duffel bag, Pickles watched you curiously from the stiff, metal chair in the corner of the room. You both had remained quiet for some time as you waited for the mob of guards and nurses that were hunting down Pickles to pass by your room, having him hide in the corner before signaling that the coast was clear.

“Sooo… what brings you here? Not gonna lie, you don’t seem like the type to be in this hell hole of dreary douchebags… Everyone seems like they’re off their rocker about to blow their brains out if they don’t get a hit,” Pickles asked, finally breaking the silence, leaning back against the chair lazily.

You chuckled dryly and turned your head to turn to the infamous drummer, “Wouldn’t you like to know? Before I tell you my whole life story, let me hear yours. What’s the drummer for a death metal band notorious for boozing it up doing in a rehabilitation center? Is this like some weird publicity stunt like the stupid Ricki Kixx sobriety thing?” 

The drummer snorted at the mention of that and shook his head, grinning at you, “Damn, I wish it was, then I’d be getting paid to be in this dump.” 

He shrugged, “Well, since you know I’m in Dethklok, you know about the whole hover drum incident shit?”

You nodded, “Yeah, saw it on the news. I heard you crashed into multiple planes.”

Pickles winced at the mention of it, his fingers mindlessly drumming a beat against the metal chairs. “So I was drunk when I was flying it. Caused a lot of damage or whatever. When do we not, ya know? But I guess it was too much this time and I’m being punished for it.” 

“Personally, I think the people who invented those were stupid not to make some auto-pilot function or at least realize you can’t fucking pilot a hover drum set when you’re wasted and save the fancy invention for another performance.” You rolled your eyes, switching out the stiff, low-quality bed sheets with your blankets.

The redhead slapped his forehead and began pacing the compact room, “Thank you! Stupid pricks kept putting the blame on me… told me they made the decision to send me to fucking rehab… told me I was in “denial” and “couldn’t handle my booze”” He threw his hands up in the air, using air quotes to emphasize his point.

Your eyebrows rose in amusement, and you continued to listen to him rant as you pulled out a tiny white box from a small compartment you had carved out  in your duffel bag.

“Like fuck those assholes! I can fucking handle my booze ten times better than those lightweights can! I’m Pickles, the drummer of Dethklok – I’m like known for being the drunk of the group!” He continued to rant before stopping as he heard a ‘click’ sound.

His gaze turned to you as you suddenly had a cigarette propped between your lips, trying to light it with your old, worn-out black lighter. 

“How the hell did you get those past the guards?” Pickles’ eyes widened, swiping the pack from you, “They practically strip searched me down, I couldn’t even hide anything in my boxers.”

“Hey, those are mine, you prick!” You stuttered out, quickly grabbing them back. Your eyes narrowed at him and you wagged the pack in his face, “I’ll let you have a smoke if you keep this a secret… and help me light this thing.” 

The red headed drummer grinned at your desperation and took the light from your hands. The gap between you and him became smaller as he got closer to you to light the cigarette dangling from your lips. His skinny, pale fingers skillfully flicked down the lighter, igniting a fire that matched the heat of your cheeks – a reaction to having the attractive musician close to you.

You took a puff, exhaling the smoke slowly. Your body felt warm and satisfied from the taste of smoke on your tongue. As you opened your eyes, you noticed a pair of piercing green orbs on you.

Pickles smiled in amusement, admiring how mellow you looked, “You needed that, didn’t cha?” You rolled your eyes, throwing the pack to Pickles, “I’m guessing you need it too if you were so willing to take up my offer.”

“Nah, I was fine honestly. Since I helped you light it though, how about you tell me how you got these past security?” Pickles shrugged, tossing the pack on the bed before taking a seat on it. 

Your eyebrows raised at Pickles’ willpower to resist the cigarettes and he chuckled at your reaction, “Doll, once you’ve had the hard stuff, the real good shit, a pack of cigarettes does nothing for you. Glad to see it satisfies you, though. Now, mind answering my question?”

You sighed, admitting defeat. You plopped down on the bed, the duffel bag putting a space between you and Pickles. Opening up the main compartment, you dug to the bottom to reveal a hidden compartment you had cut into the bottom. Inside contained a few packs of cigarettes, a back-up lighter, and a bottle of pills.

“This isn’t my first rodeo.” You joked, covering up the hidden compartment once again. “Also, the pills are my anxiety medication… the guards would’ve taken it away and the doctor would’ve put me on a prescription of something that would make me like a zombie like all the fucks out there.” You gesture your head towards the door, “I need this stuff to function day to day. So don’t get any funny ideas about stealing them.”

Pickles put up his hands in defense, “I won’t… as long as you teach me some of the tricks you know, cowgirl.” He smirks, winking at you.

The droning sound of the dinner bell echoed throughout the rooms in the rehabilitation facility, cutting you off. You reached back into your duffel bag to grab a pack of cigarettes and headed towards the door, which Pickles looked at you as if you were insane for taking your stash out into the open.

“Don’t question me, just follow my lead.” You grin, shoving the pack into your oversized hoodie. 

Pickles smirks in amusement as he follows behind you, shoving his hands in his pockets. As the two of you make your way down the hallway, other patients come out of their room, helping you blend into the crowd of people. Surprisingly, the guards don’t bat an eye as you and Pickles pass by, more preoccupied with another rowdy patient.

You file into the cafeteria, breathing a sigh of relief as almost all the staff was the same since your last stint in rehab. Otherwise, your plan would not have worked and you would have looked like an ass in front of Pickles. Seeing the red-headed drummer head towards the line, you pull him back by the neckline of his black tank, causing him to grunt in response.

“Dude, what the hell?” Pickles muttered, glancing back at you. You shake your head in response, jerking it in the direction of the guards posted nearby the food, “Too many guards, they usually dip and keep watch at the door after most of the patients get their food. Then we go and get ours.”

Pickles’ pierced eyebrow raised in confusion, crossing his arms over his chest, “It’s the same shit cafeteria food whether we get it now or later, isn’t it?”  

“That’s where the cigs come into the equation. Nothing like some good ol’ fashioned bribery right?” You grin, watching as the line slowly dwindles down to one or two people. The guards take leave, leaving the only staff left being a few nurses and case workers who are mindlessly scrolling through their phones and the cafeteria workers.

Grabbing a tray, you glance over your shoulder to make sure no one can see you before pulling out the pack. You beckon for Pickles to join you, sliding down the line as you mindlessly put food on your plate without a care. Pickles watches you, his green eyes following your every move before you stop in front of a particular worker.

“Hey, not sure if you remember me but are you still doing trades? I’ll give you the whole pack if you can get both of us a decent meal.” You grin, waving the pack of cigarettes just for him to see. He glances over you, making sure the coast is clear once final time before snagging the pack of cigarettes and walking away.

“What the hell? You just gave those up to him?” Pickles muttered under his breath and you rolled your eyes in response, “Dude, have a little patience. Being sober is definitely making you antsy,” The server returned with two plates full of much better quality food that looked like it came from a restaurant. He swapped your plates, scraping the slop back into the buffet style trays before grinning up at you, “Pleasure doing business with you again. This better be your last stint here, sweetheart.”

“Can’t make any promises.” You wave your hand dismissively before winking at Pickles, sauntering off to a table in the far corner so no one questions why your food looks way better than theirs. Pickles glances down at the plate and back to you in surprise before trailing behind you, following your every move as you show him the ropes.

“Enjoy not eating slop for at least one night. I can’t do this all the time since my supply is limited but it makes staying here a little less miserable.” You say as you take a bite of the warm food. Pickles slides into the seat across from you, staring at you inquisitively, “So mind explaining to me what just happened back there?”

“That’s Dante. He smokes like a pack an hour but the facility limits the workers to only bringing in one pack. They search them, just like us, to make sure they don’t have any drugs on them.” You wave your fork in the air casually as you explain, “So my second time, I snuck in some cigarettes and Dante caught me with them. Instead of ratting me out, he offered to bum some off me in exchange for better food during meal time. Sometimes it was a whole catered meal like this since that’s what the doctors eat, sometimes I’d ask him to pick up something I’m craving.” 

“How many times have you been here? Ye weren’t kidding when you said this wasn’t your first rodeo?” Pickles grinned, savoring the actually edible food as he was grateful he ended up opening your door earlier today. “This is my third - my first time was in high school, second was in college.” You say  with a nonchalant shrug though it leaves a bitter taste on your tongue to admit that you were back here, eyes carefully assessing his reaction.

“Third, huh? You must’ve been the life of the party back then. Would’ve loved to chug a handle with ya.” Pickles snickered in a light hearted fashion, not having any judgments of your stints. He saw you as a fellow connoisseur of the finer things in life just like him - booze and drugs. You visibly relaxed at his response, the tension in your shoulders releasing. You rolled your eyes playfully, tapping your water bottle against his, “Guess we’ll have to stick to chugging water while we’re here. Cheers to surviving this hell hole. Hope it’s your last time.”  

Pickles takes your cue, holding up his water bottle and tapping it against yours before taking  a sip, “Dude, that was totally lame. Can’t believing I’m fucking cheersing water.”

“Could be worse. You could be crawling out of your skin like those guys since they’re in the early stages of detoxing from what I can tell. You seem like you’re actually doing fine for the most part.” You hum, glancing over your shoulder. Pickles looks past your frame, assessing a table full of patients who are glancing around anxiously, picking at their food and fidgeting around. He smirks, shrugging his shoulders, “What can I say? This isn’t as hard as they make it out to be.”

“Says the guy who has been starting fights and raising hell since he got here.” You snort, crossing your arms after finishing most of your meal. “So what week are we on in group? Because if it's Step 2, I’m gonna blow my brains out.”

Pickles shrugs noncommittally, “To tell you the truth, I haven’t been paying attention much. Most of the time I’m just trying to be on my best behavior so I don’t get tased by the staff.” You chuckle at his response, stuffing your hands deeper into your hoodie, “Well, I’ll guess I’ll just have to wait and see.”

“So what’s your poison? Alcohol, weed, cocaine, ecstasy, methamphetamines?” Pickles asks out of curiosity, trying to guess himself. He’s tried it all but his main drug of choice, as the counselors called it, was alcohol. It was the one he reached for in most situations - to feel good, to destress, to numb. You chuckle at the question, the answer rolling off your tongue with ease as you’ve been asked this question several times in your life - each time you entered rehab, each AA and NA meeting you attended.

 “I got hooked on Adderall in my teens. I was an overachiever, would use it to stay up late studying for tests. Smoked some weed as well, that’s what the parents caught me with. They found Adderall later on.” You hummed, recounting the times where all you would stress about was school and academics due to your parents’ high expectations. “Then I went off to college, got into my dream school, and my parents bragged about that for a looong time. I was a goody-two shoes in high school so I started partying, drinking, doing cocaine in the bathroom, acid and molly when I would go to concerts. The usual. I skipped classes, was pretty much high all day. My parents found out and shipped me back here.” 

“And now?” Pickles asked, smiling in amusement as you recount the similar experiences to him - except for the good grades and overachieving. You paused for a second, thinking it over for some time before sighing, “Honestly, I don’t know. I drank for the first time after a stressful last few months. I definitely drank way more than I should have but I don’t think I have a poison now. Maybe it’s because other than that, I literally have been sober for the past 5 years. Maybe I’m just in denial.” 

Pickles noticed your mood shift to a more somber one and he hopes his next words are helpful in some type of way, “Well, one fuck up doesn’t mean all that hard work is gone, right? You’re only human.” You blink at what he says and end up letting out a laugh in response, “You know, I guess you aren’t wrong. Guess I’ve got a lot to learn from you too, newbie.”

The red-haired drummer can’t help but crack a genuine smile at the sight of your mood being lifted. The two of you finish your meals, stomachs satiated from the fulfilling dinner. As you’re about to pick up your tray, Pickles takes it for you, “I got clean up since you did me a favor hooking me up. You should get some rest. No offense, you’re starting to look like a zombie like the rest of these junkies.”

You rolled your eyes, flipping off the drummer as you got up from your seat, “Whatever. I’ll see you tomorrow in group, don’t get into too much trouble and please stop pissing in the trash cans. The hallways reek of urine.” Your nose crinkles at the memory of the stench. Pickles chuckles, “I’ll try not to. Sometimes the bathrooms get busy and I don’t wanna wait to take a leak. Hey, uh… thanks again.” 

“No problem, thanks for keeping things interesting. G’night!” You say with a grin, waving at the drummer who watches you disappear behind the doors. His gaze lingers to where you once sat in front of him before dumping any remaining food scraps into the trash and placing the tray and plate back. Pickles had any one goal in mind for his stay at the rehab - get the fuck out of here and be back in Dethklok. Something about you was electric, fascinating and you coming in today was a welcome distraction. He created another goal in his head as he walked back to his room - get to know you more. 

-

You headed to the communal showers after a few hours have passed, wanting some privacy and peace and quiet after the eventful day settling back into being in rehab. Towel, toiletries and clothes in hand, you place them down on the counter. Lowering the hood of your hoodie, you assess your reflection in the mirror. The dark circles beneath your eyes are more pronounced, the fatigue from working overtime and keeping up with deadline after deadline apparent. You looked drained of life, weighed down by the responsibilities of life. Your self-care had pretty much gone out the window, not taking care of your skin and appearance, settling for looking passable at work.

You let out a sigh, clapping your cheeks, “Alright, time to get your shit together. Once and for all.” You turn on the shower, letting the steam roll out from behind the curtain before undressing and stepping in. A satisfied sigh escapes your lips as the warmth of the water seems to relax the tension in your shoulders. As the water cascades down your body, you reflect on the day - particularly your fate encounter with the drummer of Dethklok.

In all your stays at rehab, you had never really connected with anyone in programming. Maybe it was just the cycle of people you ended up staying with, maybe it was the fact that you shut yourself off as much as possible, reluctant to share any more of you that wasn’t being exposed in group therapy, staying surface level when interacting with any other patients. Yet somehow things with Pickles seemed like they clicked. It was fascinating to you that despite being sober and probably struggling with cravings, irritability, the works, he still had a fire running through his veins.

You chuckled to yourself, getting preoccupied in your thoughts as your skin began to get pruny from how long you had just been standing in the shower. You quickly scrubbed your hair and body, wanting to get as clean as possible as a reset. Wrapping the towel around your body, you step out of the shower, feeling refreshed. Going through your skincare routine and brushing your teeth, you change into a fresh set of PJs. 

Just as you’re about to head out, you hear the door swing open. You blink in surprise as normally everyone is usually knocked out for the night, an hour passing since you started your shower. You glance over your shoulder as the figure rounds around the corner. You visibly relax at the sight of Pickles, toothbrush in hand and towel draped over his shoulder.

“Guess we think alike, it’s already a pain in the ass to share a bathroom with my fucking bandmates, now I gotta do it with 15  other dildos.” Pickles commented, his green eyes trailing up and down your figure. You looked visibly relaxed and refreshed, grinning to himself as he noted your pajama pants - black with cartoon skulls dotted across the fabric.

“Well, I’ll get out of your hair then, I was just heading out. Have a good shower.” You say, walking past him. “Hey Y/N,” Pickles calls out your name.  You turn your head, eyebrow raising as the handsome drummer smirks, “Cute pajamas, by the way.”

Your eyes gaze down, your cheeks flushing as you realize he’s referring to your pants. You huff, your lips pouting as he gets a rise out of your flustered reaction, “Hey, they’re comfy, asshole! Hope I used up all the hot water and you have to take a cold shower!” You stomp out of the bathroom, causing Pickles to snicker.

"Well, at least I got some form of entertainment for the rest of my stay," Pickles comments to himself, actually excited for tomorrow to tease and mess with you so more.

[itsseohannbin]

• Like A Volcano | Part Two | •

Han Jisung Mini Series

© itshannjisung, 2024

♡ itsseohannbins masterlist ♡

Series Masterlist

Chapter Genre: Fluff 💕Angst⚡️Crack💥

-Bestfriends to Lovers Trope-

Summary: being best friends with the kings of kpop always has its ups and downs, and when you're offered a spot on the next European-American book tour to promote the publishing of your new book, there's one kpop king in particular who just doesn't want you to go.

Pairing: Idol!Han Jisung x Female Reader x Bestfriend Skz

** Includes two of my own original female characters, both whom are romantically involved with two of the members. Chan x Jo / Minho x Ash **

Warnings: angst. hurt. swearing. mentions of alcohol. mentions of marijuana use. implied intoxicated han jisung. harsh/vulgar language. yn's friends (jokingly) plot Han's death (i.e. homicide, staged accidental death, death by carbon monoxide, death by chloroform, premeditated murder). the boys do not use honorifics. best friend skz.

I think that's it. If I missed any, lmk!!

Word Count: 5.4k

**this chapter is unchanged**

Enjoy!

Walking out of Jisungs room that night was the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. Not only were you turning your back on your one shot with the man you’ve been in love with for years, silently breaking his and your heart in the process, but you also now had to face the reality of what the hell had just happened as you returned to the living room where your friends were.

It seemed the rest of the party stragglers had all gone home and it was just your friends left, all of them now helping clean. Changbin and Jeongin were collecting empty cans and bottles and storing them back into the original boxes for easier discarding, Hyunjin, Seungmin and Ash were sweeping and mopping the floors clean of dumped food and spilled drinks, and Chan and Jo were tackling the mass amounts of red cups that littered the room. Minho was most likely cleaning his kitchen domain, as he got pretty upset any time the kitchen turned into a mess.

Felix’s spider-senses must’ve been going off because he was at the bottom of the stairs as soon as you had appeared, staring up at you in concern. You had done your best to wipe the mascara off your face as you rushed from Jisung's room, but based on the look Felix had, you knew you hadn’t done the greatest job of hiding your sadness.

“Bunny, what’s wrong?” he asked not so quietly, causing everyone to stop what they were doing and turn to look your way. You felt heat rush to your cheeks and you tried to swallow back the lump that still sat idly in your throat. 

How the hell were you supposed to explain what had just happened when you were still processing the events that had taken place in the last thirty minutes or so?

“Nothing Felix. I’m just really tired. I think I’m going to call it a night.” You settled with a tiny white lie.

Felix looked at you unconvincingly, but you paid him no mind as your eyes went searching for Jo. As soon as your eyes found hers, you sent her a look she knew all too well from the years of friendship you two had shared; one that practically screamed ‘get me the hell out of here’.

Instantly, she dropped her bag of garbage and discarded a stack of red cups onto the coffee table.

“I’ll drive you home!” She said, feigning cheerfulness. She knew something was wrong but none of the guys needed to know that. They didn’t need to know anything until the wheels of your plane left the ground the following day.

Ash, being the ever-observant friend she was, set her broom and dustpan aside and skipped over to you almost as cheerfully.

“Ou, She-Racha car ride? Count me in!”

Together, Jo and Ash gathered their things and slipped on their shoes when Minho suddenly appeared through the kitchen doorway with a half-eaten pudding cup in his hands. He glanced at his fiancée and Jo, confused as to what was going on.

“Are we going somewhere?” His gaze then landed on you and his face softened once he got a good look at you. “Y/n what’s going on? Where’s Jisung?”

Before you could open your mouth and feed Minho the same lie you told Felix, Jisung's voice echoed off the walls as he whipped his bedroom door open and shouted loudly down the hallway.

“Y/n wait!”

Upon hearing the desperation and anger in Jisung's voice, everyone’s eyes went from you to the top of the stairs where they expected Jisung to appear. You immediately hurried to the door where Jo and Ash were waiting, turning back to address Minho as you grabbed your things.

“Minho, please, do not let him come after me.”

Minho gave you a worried and confused look, but nodded nonetheless, knowing exactly what it was you needed from him. You only ever called him by his full name if it was urgent, and he picked up on that quirk of yours quickly. Ever since he and Ash had gotten together he’d become a lot more in tune with female emotions, and even though Jisung was one of his best friends, he obeyed you without hesitation.

Jisung appeared at the top of the stairs then, his hair messy as if he’d been pulling at it, his eyes angry but still drenched in tears. He saw you and immediately began descending the staircase two at a time, desperate for one last attempt to get you to stay, but Minho was quick to block his path. Without needing an explanation, Chan and Changbin instinctively jumped in and went to help as Minho struggled against Jisung's flailing figure.

Together, the three men managed to stop Jisung from reaching the bottom of the stairs while the remaining four stayed rooted in place, looking as freaked out and bewildered as anyone else in their position would’ve been.

You barely spared anyone a second glance before following Jo and Ash out of the house, slamming the door behind you.

And that was the last time you saw Jisung.

Even now, with all seven of the boys alongside Jo and Ash gathered around you at the airport to bid you one last farewell, Jisung didn’t show. You had laid awake practically all night, replaying the entire fight over and over again in your brain. A small part of you hoped against hope that he would show up despite it all and say goodbye, but he didn’t. 

You knew he wouldn’t. Not after you walked out on him the way you had.

Chan was furious at Jisung’s absence. He was currently standing a little ways away from the group, his phone pressed to his ear as he angrily left yet another voice message on Jisung's answering machine. 

According to the boys, after you and the girls left abruptly last night, and after the three older men fought Jisung's advances off, Jisung returned to his room as if he were a bull seeing red. He had quickly packed a bag of essentials and, before anyone could stop him, he left the house, swearing and cursing his members into hell for helping you escape. 

No one had seen him since, and based on the several messages each member had left on Jisung's phone, urging him to get to the airport before you had to board your plane, they hadn’t heard from him either. Felix and Hyunjin were worried about his lack of response, but the others were just pissed off at his behavior. 

“I swear to God Ji, if you don’t get to the airport in the next thirty minutes, I will personally disown you as my first child and then I’ll kick your ass. Call me back when you get this.” you heard Chan growl into his cell.

Jo was standing with you, her arms wrapped around your waist while yours slung around her shoulder in a half hug, your head resting on hers. She was smiling and laughing with Ash and the boys, but you could tell by the tension in her body that she was also listening in on Chan. No one had ever seen him this upset before, and it was unsettling for all of you.

A moment later, Chan hung up his phone again and returned to the rest of the group, scratching the back of his head in annoyance as he shoved his phone into his pocket.

“Based on the look on your face, I’m assuming he’s not coming?” Jo asked as Chan pushed his way through the circle to resume his spot behind her. He shook his head angrily, opening his mouth to begin the irate rant you all knew was coming, but Seungmin beat him to the punch, trying his best to brighten the mood with his usual level of sarcasm.

“Incredible!” he shouted as he began clapping obnoxiously, bringing everyone's attention to him. “Detective Jo has once again solved the case! The evidence was beyond us and yet, she somehow figured it out! I’m in awe.” 

You watched in amusement as Jo's eyes squinted as she glared at Seungmin with a smile on her face.

“I will fuck you up, Puppy.” Jo threatened as she detached herself from your side and stepped into Chan's embrace once more. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and rested his chin on her head, the anger in his features dissipating quickly.

Seungmin crossed his arms over his chest and flashed Jo a menacing grin. He loved being the only one brave enough to challenge Chan’s rules. Jo was off limits, but it didn’t seem to stop Seungmin from his relentless flirting. It’s like he was fueled by mischief.

“Good luck reaching me from down there, Little Miss Four-Foot Nothing.” He bantered. Jo’s eyes closed impossibly more as she tried to fight off a smirk that sat at her mouth.

“I’m 5’4, asshole.”

“Yikes. That’s still higher than your IQ, Seung.” Minho piped in, joining in on the fun. He had his arm protectively wrapped around Ash’s shoulders, but when Seungmin moved to kick him in the shin, Minho slid behind her in an attempt to hide, laughing maniacally.  

“I can’t fucking stand either of you.” Seungmin hid his laugh behind an annoyed exhale.

“Then kneel, dumbass.”

“Then kneel, dumbass.”

Both Jo and Minho spoke at the same time, resulting in everyone breaking out into laughter as the two of them high-fived each other in approval.

The stress that seemed to hang in the air at Jisung's clear absence was slowly being washed away with each chuckle, and you found yourself feeling so incredibly grateful for your friends.

“Why are you guys so mean to me?” Seungmin then fake pouted. Jo reached her hand up and ruffled his fluffy hair, pushing it out of his eyes.

“Cause I’m that much closer to hell than you are, Seung.” She responded sweetly. Everyone let out another laugh at her comment while Seungmin ducked out of her reach and playfully elbowed her in the ribs.

Ever since everyone arrived at the airport merely an hour ago, minus Jisung, you felt like your heart was just minutes away from stopping. Anxiety clawed through your insides like a feral cat trapped in a cage. Whether it was because of the obvious missing presence or simply just pre-tour jitters, you weren’t sure, but you expected the uneasiness to sink its teeth into you any second now, forcing an anxiety attack from your body. 

Thankfully, being surrounded by your friends, laughing and joking as if all was well helped ease some of the tightness in your chest, though only little by little.

That was until Minho’s phone began to ring noisily from his pocket, causing the tension to return to you in full force.

“Fucking finally,” Minho whispered once he caught a glance at the screen.

Everyone fell silent, the stress once again clouding the air like smoke.

“Is that him?” Felix questioned, a hopeful look in his eyes. Minho ignored him and swiped his thumb across the screen before shoving his phone to his ear.

“Jisung, where the fuck are you?”

Jisung could practically taste the fury that rolled off of Minho's tongue and into his ear. It made his chest tighten slightly, but he took a deep breath and willed himself to relax.

“I’m sorry Min. I’m not coming.”

“What do you mean you’re not coming?”

“I mean I’m not coming.”

An irritated breath left Minho’s mouth.

“Fuck off Jisung. I don’t know what the hell happened between you and y/n last night, and at this point, I don’t really care, but you need to get your ass here, now. Y/n’s plane leaves in no less than two hours. Put in your fucking tampon and come say goodbye.” Minho growled.

Jisung let out a sigh as he glanced around the hotel room he was staying in. His laptop sat open on the bed beside him, his anime currently paused. He made a point not to acknowledge the empty soju bottles that decorated the tabletop, or the bag of marijuana that sat half-opened on the nightstand beside him.

Why did his friends, his family, have to make this so difficult for him? 

All he wanted to do was forget.

Forget you. Forget your name. Forget your face. 

He wanted to forget the way your lips felt against his, even for that brief but magical moment you two shared; the way you whimpered and melted into his touch seconds before you ripped his heart out and stomped it into the carpet of his bedroom. 

He wanted to forget all of it. The kiss you shared, the fight that ensued, the look you gave him before you slammed the front door and left.

He wanted to forget, but more than anything else, he hoped to God that when he’d wake up from his intoxicated sleep, he’d remember.

He wanted to remember the way you smiled in awe as you listened to the song he made for you, eyes full of tears as they fluttered closed as if you could feel the emotion and love he poured into each lyric. He wanted to remember the way your body automatically responded to him when he leaned in to kiss you, as if kissing him was as natural to you as breathing. He wanted to remember how absolutely beautiful you looked as you yelled at him with mascara-stained tears.

He wanted to remember it all and he wanted to forget it all.

Jisung took a second to chug back the soju from his shot glass, setting the empty soju bottle next to the others before he responded to Minho, trying to ignore the sting of his friend's words.

“I’m sorry Min.” was all he could say. 

There was a second of silence before Ash’s calm and collected voice suddenly came through the phone. 

“Jisung, what’s going on?” she asked, her voice soft. Jisung nearly started to cry just from how warm and concerned she sounded. She always had been like an older sister to him, and her serene and tender attitude hit him like a bucket of ice-cold water. He loved the boys so much, but listening to the dozens of harsh messages they’d left him when he didn’t show up at the airport hurt him more than he cared to admit.

“I’m sorry Ash. I can’t.” Jisung didn’t think he had any tears left in him, but his eyes began to water as if he hadn’t cried in years. “I love her too much. I can’t let her go.”

Ash let out a sigh as she stepped away from the group of eyes staring expectantly at her, trying to get some privacy when she realized Jisung was crying.

“Ji, I know what happened last night.” She reassured him with a whisper. “Y/n told me everything. And I know it’s hard saying goodbye, but I don’t want you to regret this.”

“I can’t just let her run off with another man.” he scoffed.

“Ji, you know nobody wants you two together more than we do. Chan stopped trying to set her up with other guys years ago because he knows now that you two were absolutely made for each other. We all know that. Just because she’s going on tour with Seojun doesn’t mean she isn’t going to come home to you in a year and a half. You’re the one she loves, not him. You just have to let her figure it out for herself. And she will. She’ll always come home to you.”

“I don’t think so, Ash. Not this time. I fucked up.”

Ash let out a sigh at his words, running a hand through her hair.

“Come and say goodbye and you’ll see that you haven’t.” she tried.

The other end of the line was silent for a moment and she swore she got through to him. Jisung carefully absorbed her words, and for a second, he hoped she was right. But that thought was washed away just as quickly when the image of you walking out the door without a single regret flashed through his brain, causing him to let out an unexpected sob.

“I’m sorry,” Jisung whispered, his voice defeated and tired. “I can’t. Please, please don’t be mad at me.”

Another sigh left Ash's mouth and Jisung braced himself for the words he knew would come next.

“I’m not mad at you Ji. I’m disappointed. Despite everything that happened, we’re still a family, and this isn’t how we treat our family.” 

Even though he expected her answer almost word for word, it still hurt to hear her say. Being mad at him was one thing, but being disappointed in him and his actions made his heart ache impossibly more. 

He spent so much time trying to make everyone around him proud of everything he did and hearing Ash say those words did nothing but knock him down a few dozen pegs on his scale of confidence.

He pushed away another round of tears and took a deep breath before responding to her. 

“I’m sorry. I’m not coming.” 

And that was final.

Ash sensed the certainty in his tone and let out yet another heavy sigh, the disappointment more evident now than before. As much as they respected each other and understood each other, she knew better than to try and sway his decisions. He was a stubborn man, and when his heart was set on something, it was nearly impossible to change his mind.

Oh, the irony.

“Okay, I’ll let the gang know,” she whispered.

“Thank you.” Jisung breathed a sigh of relief, thankful she gave in so easily. He hated fighting against her.

“Don’t thank me,” Ash spoke up again, her voice now firm and authoritative, just like a scolding mother. “You’re not out of the woods yet Jisung. Just because I’m saying ‘okay’ doesn’t mean I’m happy about this. You still have to face Jo whenever you decide to come home.”

He wasn’t planning on coming home any time soon, but he didn’t say it, lest he let her down even more than he already seemed to have.

“I’m sorry.” he choked out one last time.

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”

She was right, and he knew it, but he couldn’t bring himself to contact you. He wanted so badly to call you and say goodbye, to hear your voice one last time, but he knew it would only cause him more heartbreak if he did. Even though he swore to himself the day he met you that he would do absolutely anything for you, he couldn’t bring himself to do this.

Instead, he let Ash's words hang in the air for a few moments longer before another sob escaped his throat, causing him to say goodbye and hang up.

Ash shook her head and willed herself to breathe as the dial tone rang in her eardrums. 

“So?” Hyunjin prodded as she returned to the group. Everyone looked at her expectantly while she slid Minho’s phone back into the pocket of his jeans, but you already knew based on the way her shoulders slumped that her attempts to convince Jisung to come were helpless. “Is he on his way?”

Ash shook her head at Hyunjin and gave you a sad, guilty look.

“I’m sorry, Babe,” she whispered. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and plastered a smile on your face, trying to mask the hurt you felt. If anyone would’ve been able to convince him, it was her. You were thankful that she at least gave it a try. “S’okay. I didn’t really expect him to come after everything that happened. Thank you though for trying.”

“I’m gonna’ fucking kill him.” Jo then growled from beside you, her sudden outburst causing you to jump. Her eyebrows furrowed in anger as she shook her head in disgust. 

“Not if I kill him first.” Changbin piped in then, his jaw clenched in disbelief at his friend's behavior. He had his phone out in front of him and he was tapping relentlessly against the screen, no doubt sending yet another message to Jisung.

“I’m gonna’ help.” I.N decided, his tongue prodding his cheeks as he tried to hold back his frustration. “Binnie and I have watched enough true crime shows to know how to get away with homicide.”

“Don't you mean homie-side” Chan laughed, earning a glare from everybody else while he chuckled at his own joke. The pause was quick before everyone began plotting again, ignoring him and his old-man puns.

“Guys,” you rubbed the bridge of your nose as Jo and the boys began organizing what you hoped was nothing more than a hypothetical crime. With Jo, there was always the possibility of it being not-so. “Can we please just forget about it? We’re supposed to be saying goodbye, not plotting a murder.”

Your friends ignored you completely.

“You’re right." Jo then continued with a nod, her eyes burning holes into the floor as you saw the wheels practically spinning wildly in her mind. "We have to make it look like an accident.”

You sent Chan a look of desperation, to which he shrugged his shoulders and gave you a helpless look in return.

“Why are you looking at me? You know I have no control over them.” He tried to hide his smile behind a pathetic cough, no doubt reveling in the fact that for once in his life, he was not at the butt end of all the jokes.

You rolled your eyes and clenched your jaw in irritation as you glared at him before attempting to calm your friends down again.

“Guys, I think we’re overreacting a bit, yeah?” you tried.

“I’m thinking Carbon Monoxide in his sleep,” Seungmin stated, nodding his head in approval. The lack of emotion on his face had the hairs on your arms standing upright.

“I’m thinking we just chloroform the little bastard,” Minho suggested, his hands up, pretending like he was holding onto someone's head while he shoved an imaginary cloth into their non-existent face.

With that, you let out another sigh, louder this time, and rubbed at your temple. You gave Chan another look and winced when you saw his amused smile growing wider.

Traitor.

Thankfully, Ash caught on to your distress and spoke up quickly on your behalf.

“Guys!”

Immediately, like little ducklings, everyone stopped talking and turned to look at her. She always stepped into the parental role when Chan couldn’t be bothered to, it was part of the platonic partnership they came up with when they were deemed as Mom and Dad of the group. The boys may not have always respected Chan, but they never failed to listen to and respect Ash.

“Can we please wait and discuss our premeditated murders until after y/n’s gone? I don’t think she wants to spend the last of her time with us being reminded of he who shall not be named.”

The boys and Jo muttered their apologies before they dove into other conversations with one another. You mouthed a ‘thank you’ Ash’s way before being roped into the conversation with them.

*****

It didn’t take long for the time to fly by. One minute you were thanking Ash for stepping in and calming the kids down, and the next, the time had come. The boys were currently held up in a heated debate about Jo and her nickname for Innie when you reluctantly glanced up at the clock.

A sigh left your mouth. 

It was time to go through security and find your gate.

“Only Jo gets to call me Daddy Toast, you know that!” 

“I know it, but I’ll never understand it.”

“What does that even mean anyway?”

“See Hyune. This is why you’re the leader of Paboracha.”

“It means she thinks I’m hot!”

“I do not, Innie!”

“Okay, I do not approve of this conversation anymore.”

You let out a giggle as Chan let out his signature disappointed dad sigh, a hand running down his face as the kids began arguing again. He turned to look at you, his face now pleading.

“Please don’t leave me with these idiots.”

“You’ll be fine,” you reassured him with a smirk. The smirk quickly turned into a sad smile as you let out a breath. “I have to go now.”

Chan nodded before he clapped his hands to grab everyone's attention. He received a little more resistance than Ash had, but everyone was quick to shut up and listen. “Alright you heathens, it’s time to say goodbye to Bunny.” 

One by one, each of your friends stepped forward to give you one last hug goodbye. Hyunjin and Felix squished you into a HyunLix sandwich while planting friendly kisses all across your face, causing you to giggle and squeeze them against you. Changbin then impatiently pulled you from their arms and literally swept you off your feet, spinning you around easily as he crushed you with his biceps.

I.N and Minho both settled for ruffling your hair and patting your head before wrapping you in a half hug and squeezing you gently to show their affection. You were surprised to find Chan tear-free as he stepped from Jo’s side, a complete one-eighty from his drunken speech the night before. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your head, smiling proudly.

“Go kick some worldwide ass,” he whispered as he rubbed his hands up your back soothingly, no doubt trying to help ease the tension he probably felt in your shoulders. The tears that were threatening to pool in your eyes suddenly appeared at the sound of his words, and you purposely wiped your tears on the fabric of his shirt. The sigh that left Chan’s mouth at your actions was funny enough to make you laugh but not enough to stop the sudden flow of water pouring from your eyes like a faucet.

“I’m going to miss you guys so much,” you whispered back as he planted a kiss on the top of your head and then let you go.

Seungmin was last, a giant pout on his lips as he stepped into your open arms.

“Please don’t forget about us, okay?” he asked dramatically, as if you weren't set to return to his side eighteen months from now. He sulked into your embrace, willing himself not to cry. You smiled through your own tears. 

“I could never forget about you, Pup.”

At that, a single tear fell down Seungmin's cheek. He quickly wiped it away with the sleeve of his oversized hoodie before flashing you a playful grin.

“I know that you’re with Seojun now and the old man gave me strict instructions not to kiss you anymore but-”

Before you could even protest, Seungmin dipped his head and kissed your cheek mischievously before folding you in his arms.

“- I don’t care what grandpa says. You know I live to break the rules, and if Seojun fucks up, I’ll break him.”

You nuzzled your face into his shoulder. Unlike Chan, Seungmin didn’t seem to mind the tears (and snot) that were staining his sweater. He just ran his hand through your messy hair and shushed you as you hiccupped.

“You’re a menace to society,” you whispered lovingly at him.

“I love you too Bunny,” Seungmin laughed before pulling away from you and holding you at arm's length. “No more crying okay? We don’t want the resident trash panda making a return before she’s due overseas.” His hands cupped your face, thumbs wiping at your cheeks softly as he bent and gave you his best smile. 

You snorted at his joke and smacked him lightly, trying to pull your face from his grasp while he laughed at your reaction. 

“I’m kidding Bunny. You are going to kill it out there. Seriously. You have all of us behind you. If you need us, call. Any time.”

You nodded and gave him one last tight bear hug in return before you took a deep breath and turned to face the two you were dreading saying goodbye to the most.

When you turned to the girls, the waterworks went into overdrive. Together, Ash and Jo came forward to hug you, their chins resting on each of your shoulders as your arms wrapped around them tightly.

“I’m so proud of you,” Jo whispered, hiccuping through her words.

“We’re so proud of you.” Ash corrected her, her hand running up and down your back. You gave both of them a gentle squeeze and willed yourself to stay like that for several moments as reality sunk in.

This was it. 

You were really doing this.

Never in a million years did you think you’d be saying goodbye to your friends and heading out on your own tour without them, yet here you were. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous as hell, thinking about every possible thing that could go wrong and then some. 

Who were you going to go to when you needed someone to proofread your next chapter if you couldn’t sneak into Ash’s or Seungmin's room and bother them? Who were you going to bribe into late-night ice cream dates when your mind turned to mush after staring at the screen all day if you couldn’t ask Changbin and Jisung? Who was going to sprawl out on the couch with you on your off days and watch K-dramas if it wasn’t Felix, I.N, or Minho? Who was going to talk trash about reality television with you if it wasn’t Hyunjin, Jo, and Chan? 

Your heart felt heavy.

Jo must’ve sensed it cause her hand came up to hold the back of your head as she pulled away and looked at you, tears washing down her face.

“We’ll facetime every chance we get, okay?”

You let out an unattractive snort.

“You don’t even use Apple, Jo.”

She rolled her eyes at you.

“Binnie and I stand by what we said about Samsung being superior.”

“Superior, my ass!” Felix called out from somewhere behind her. Jo twisted her head around and gave him a glare.

“Oi. You’re lucky I love you Lixie or I’d kick you off of The Freckled Friends Baking Show and have Binnie replace your apple-loving ass.”

Felix’s lip jutted out at Jo’s threat. 

“Binnie doesn’t even have freckles! You wouldn’t dare!”

Jo flipped him off with a smirk. “Watch me, bitch.”

Another round of arguing ensued then, this one about which cell phone brand was better, and you resisted the urge to join them. As much as you loved your friends and their chaotic antics, you needed to leave, no matter how badly you didn’t want to at that moment.

“I’ll keep you updated on Ji,” Ash whispered as she pulled away from you. You thanked her and finally stepped away from the group. With your carry-on in one hand and your purse in the other, you gave your friends one last nod, one last smile, one last awkward wave before you turned your back on them and headed towards the security line.

You couldn’t help but turn your head back every couple of minutes as you waited in line patiently. Every time you glanced back at your group, they were smiling and waving and cheering you on. You were surprised the lot of you hadn’t been kicked out of the airport already for causing such a commotion. 

You waved again when you reached the front of the line, the security guard taking your ticket and I.D. and instructing you to unload your belongings into the bins to go through the machine, which you did.

It took you no less than a couple minutes to get through security unscathed and gather your belongings on the other side. 

When you retrieved your phone from the basket you saw you had a couple unread messages from Felix. You smiled widely when you opened the messages to find Felix had sent you a handful of photos. A couple were of you heading towards the security line, while the rest of them were pictures of the group waving and blowing kisses goodbye.

You grinned and ran your hand through your hair as you stopped and glanced back up through the security gate. You had your hand raised and were bidding one final farewell to your group when a familiar figure caught your eye.

Lo and behold, standing a few feet in front of your group of friends, staring at you through the line of people was the man you were waiting for. Dressed in dark sweatpants, a darker hoodie, and a white backward cap, Han Jisung frowned at you as he waved goodbye.

Part Two is here!!!!

God, I forgot how much I adored this mini-series! Re-reading now is making me so emotional and nostalgic.

Thank you all for returning for Part Two!!!

Prepare yourselves for Part Three, cause it's a sad one!!

See you all soon!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @sungshineworld @collisvng @ihrtlix

If you want to be added to the taglist, lmk!!!

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[fumifooms]

My take on why Falin saw the Winged Lion

(chap 97 spoilers)

I have one main theory, and its central point is that Falin wouldn’t have been successfully revived if she hadn’t, without him.

After all, we’re told that the only reason revivals are possible is that the dungeon’s mana ecosystem makes it so that souls are bound to the body even after death. But when reviving her, they’re out of the dungeon and mana is fading. Marcille was assisted by elves and I seriously doubt they used ancient magic, which can bypass some of these rules and issues to an unknown extent. By those standards, it’s a miracle that reviving Falin could even possibly work.

And what is ancient magic, really? It’s mentioned that ancient magic is a magic that comes from another dimension of infinite magical energy, which is Marcille’s field of study. The same dimension the Winged Lion comes from. As the demon said himself, he is Power. He’s not a finite entity, he himself talks about his intangible and even abstract nature. He changes appearances, he can be anywhere and have as many bodies as he wants acting simultaneously without problem (as shown with his multiplying as Laios, and the ambiguous way and timeline that he hops from dungeon to dungeon), he cannot be killed. He does not exist on the same plane, in the same way, as everyone else. Ancient magic uses his energy, and though the dungeon Lord is the one that orders and shapes things to their wants, it’s the Power’s magic that actually get things done. It’s the Power’s magic that creates the creatures in the dungeon, the dungeon’s ecosystem and mana is the demon. The Power is a being of magic, he is ancient magic and ancient magic is him.

It’s not only how Falin is fused to the soul of a dragon that the Power birthed, it’s also that Falin was revived through ancient magic by Marcille. Falin owes her life to ancient magic, it’s this magic that regrew her body and bound her soul long after her body was too damaged to keep the soul bond. I think that means that there’s remain of that ancient magic in her, wether it’s in her flesh or her soul or in the very fabric of her being, and I think it’s that sliver of ancient magic in her that allowed her to come back and be revived.

The Winged Lion went back to his dimension, and who the hell knows where souls go after they leave their body and don’t become ghosts, since the Winged Lion has this "exists somewhat everywhere at once in many dimensions" thing, I could see the space where she saw him be some purgatory, but personally I see it more as an inner space thing. I think there’s a small part of the Winged Lion in every creature it materialized into life, and maybe even in everyone that he gave himself as food to like in his backstory story. And in a space as abstract as the place between life and death, that tiny presence of his can manifest itself. Wether that spark of ancient magic got used when reviving her or simply allowed her to be brought back and continues to live in her, I think it could go either way. She’s part of the dungeon forevermore, even if only in infinitesimal way.

I lean a bit more towards the former option in that last bit. But I don’t really remember wether in the worldbuilding, mana is used up and disappears or is simply transformed and moved, law of energy conservation and whatnot. Welp, I should reread it again