#and my dad was like ‘maybe they gave him the glasses to make him less attractive’

[benoits-neckerchieves]

Watched Four Weddings yet again last night just ‘cause it was on, and may i just say that bespectacled Hugh Grant is a delight to behold

[oneforthemunny]

don't fear the reaper |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader| part 7

prompt: your introduction to eddie's ex-wife goes less than ideal.

age gap. reader is 26, Eddie is 42. everything is consensual. if you don't like it, don't read plz.

contains: language, dilf!eddie, older!eddie, age gap, angst, gina is Eddie's ex wife and she's really mean :(

"Can you get that, sweet thing?" Eddie asks, screwdriver in hand, hunched over the little set of drawers that he was assembling, tongue poked out in concentration.

You'd been happily watching him build all morning, a warm and light feeling buzzing through your body. You grinned cheekily to yourself when Eddie slipped on a pair of reading glasses before he had started. He looked over them at you, peering over the black frames with an exaggerated stare, pointing a warning finger playfully in your direction.

"Not a word. Understand, missy?" His tone was stern, playful, pulling a string of giggles from your chest. Your cheeks flush at his tone, tipping your head to the side to admire him. The way the veins in his hand protruded when he tightened something with the screwdriver, his tongue poking out in concentration. 

Eddie had just established the base of the drawers when there was a knock at the door. You stood, setting down your mug on the coffee table. "Should be Brielle. She's always forgettin' her key." Eddie sighed, a firm eye roll.

You opened the door, ready to see the girl who resembled your boyfriend so much- same eyes, dimples, cheeks. She'd been at her mom's all weekend, and you were happy to have her back, now that things were better with you two. You smiled widely, eyes lighting up, a welcome on the tip of your tongue.

Instead, you were greeted with a pair of piercing eyes, narrowed at you from the moment you opened the door, unfamiliar and challenging.

You blinked, looking at the woman in front of you, jarred and a little frightened. You knew her, how could you not? Gina, Eddie's ex-wife, Brielle's mother. You’d seen the photos- maybe, done a stalk on Facebook with your best friend. 

Gina's lips twisted, a scoff falling from them that had you stepping back in the doorway. "I'll be goddammed." She said every word slowly, dripped in venom. Your heart hammered, eyes wide, caught, scared.

Brielle squirmed, eyes sympathetically meeting yours. She was uncomfortable, intimidated too, though you weren’t really sure why. "Mom, I'm here now. You can go back in the car-"

"Nuh-uh." Gina snapped, eyes never leaving yours. You felt exposed under her gaze, vulnerable, wrapping your arms around your middle protectively. "I wanna meet the new girl your dad has you hangin' around. Make sure she's not being a bad influence on my baby." Her words were nearly mocking, your hand gripping the door in a white knuckled grasp.

Eddie's heavy footsteps appeared behind you, shoulders falling when he saw Gina. "For fuckssake, Gina..." He sighed, annoyed, exasperated, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Well, hello to you, too, Edward." Gina spat the name like it was a bad taste in her mouth, lips curling into a snarl. Her teeth barred, like a predator to prey- amused. This was a game to her. One she was very good at, apparently. 

"The fuck are you doin', huh?" Eddie threw his arm out, looking down at Gina, standing at his full height. "You don't have better things to do?"

Gina laughed, humorless, eyes rolling. "Not when it comes to our child." Gina snapped. She paused, lips pursing, icy eyes sliding over your frame, sending shivers down your spine. "Sorry, I guess I should say our daughter, looks like you have another child in your life."

Your heart dropped, stammering lightly. Gina gave you a smug, challenging look. Brielle looked down, shifting on her feet. "Mom, can you stop? It's embarrassing-"

"Oh, I'm embarrassing?" Gina snapped, looking at her daughter. Brielle recoiled slightly, shrinking under her gaze. "But your father prancing around with jail bait isn't-"

"Alright, Gina, that's enough." Eddie growled, stepping in front of you. They glared at each other, so angry, full of hatred. "You wanna say some shit to me? Fine, but leave her out of this. And have some decency to not do this in front of Brie." He bit, glaring down the slope of his nose at her. 

Gina gasped, loud and accusatory. "Don't you dare, Eddie, don't you even fuckin' dare." She pointed a long, manicured nail at him, jabbing it at him. "Don't pull the bad mom card on me when you're dating someone the same age as Brielle!"

"She is not the same age, Gina, what the fuck-"

"Sweetheart," Gina turned to you, the pet name Eddie usually adorned to you was covered in malice, making your blood run cold. "How old are you?" She mocked you, spoke to you like you were a child- like you spoke to your kids at school. 

"Twenty-s-six." You stammered dumbly, heart pounding in your ears. It was nine in the morning, you weren't exactly prepared to be berated and harassed like this, this early.

Gina's lips pressed together, eyebrows shooting up. She scoffed, loud and derisive. "Twenty-six?" She repeated, each syllable rolling off her tongue furiously, looking at Eddie with a glare so cold it made you shiver.

 "So, when I had Brielle, you were what? Nine, ten?" She laughed, but she wasn't amused. It was a mean girl mocking laugh, one that took you back to days in middle school in the locker room at gym. "And Eddie, what were you doing then? Twenty-six years ago? Oh, that's right, you were still selling weed to high-school kids to support the baby-"

"Gina, I'm not doing this shit with you." Eddie seethed, jaw set and eyes hard. He glared at her, eyes flicking over to Brielle, who shrunk into herself, eyes on the steps. You could see the guilt wash over Eddie, jaw ticking and eyes softening. "Get in here, baby girl. I'll be just a second." He guided Brielle in, hand protectively on the back of her head, giving you a small nod before shutting the door.

You and Brielle stood in the doorway, not moving, eyes glued on the wooden door. Your heart was hammering in your throat, stopping and speeding when you would hear the muffled words and screams from the other side. A rollercoaster of emotions, tummy dropping and turning, twisting and seeking further and further into your nerves. 

"She's a fuckin' child, Ed!"

"Gina, are you out of your fuckin' mind? She's an adult, a teacher. A really great teacher-"

"Probably because she's the same age as them! They have so much in common!"

"Oh, fuck off, Gina. Aren't you married? Why the fuck do you care?"

"I don't want someone like that around my daughter! What kind of example is this? Whoring herself with some old guy!"

"She is not-"

"-How would you feel if Brie was doing this, huh? Fucking around with a guy twice her age?"

Your stomach dropped when Eddie didn't reply. You felt the color drain, feeling sick to your stomach. Brielle looked at you carefully, fingers twisting around her overnight bag, wringing them nervously.

"That's what I thought." Gina's voice was firm, smug. "I don't know what you're going through, Eddie, but this is a lot. Even for you."

"Get the fuck outta my house, Gina." Eddie growled, heavy footsteps moving towards the door. You could hear her muffled, biting response, mean and biting even through the door.

You stepped back just as Eddie threw the door open, eyes furious and blazing. He ran a hand over his scruff, free hand balled by his side. He looked at you, eyes drooping gently- tired, defeated.

"'M gonna go outside." Eddie growled, stomping towards the back door. "Need a minute." His hand ran over Brie’s shoulder, comfortingly- an apology. 

You flinched when Eddie slammed the door, shaking the house. Brielle looked at you, eyes wide and cautious, embarrassed. "They... They do this all the time." She offered softly. You didn't reply, eyes still glued on the back door.

"I'm sorry..." Brielle said softly. You looked over at her. "For what my mom said." She added, rubbing her arms awkwardly. "She can be like that sometimes. Don't take it personally."

You nodded, tongue feeling thick and constricted in your mouth.

Brielle hesitated, looking from you back to the window where a stream of smoke could be seen. Eddie. She lifted her bag gently, moving down the hall to her room. You didn't move, you couldn't.

Gina's words hurt you. It made your head rattle with insecurities and racing thoughts, self doubt and humbled truths. Eddie's reaction- or lack thereof- to her final accusation had your stomach twisting, knotting. Why did it hurt you so bad? Was Eddie embarrassed of you?

Eddie came in from the backdoor, shoulders still tense but eyes softened, nicotine induced relaxation. "I'm sorry about that, bunny. She can be a real-" Eddie stopped, looking at you in the doorway.

You didn't move, stilling even at his voice, zoned on the wall in front of you. Eddie called your name softly, hands raised in a slow approach, like you were a frightened animal that might scatter. His brows furrowed, lips pulling into a soft frown. 

Your eyes met his, lip trembling gently. Eddie's face softened. "Baby, what's wrong?" He cooed, stepping towards you so he could rub his hands down your arms. "Don't let her upset you, ok? She just said all of that because wants you to be upset-"

"You didn't answer her." Your eyes flashed at him. His forehead creased in confusion. "When she said that about Brie, you didn't reply."

Eddie exhaled, tired, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, because I'm not arguing with her. It's pointless." He huffed. "All it does is make my blood pressure go up, and she just starts saying crazy shit. She thrives off that kinda attention, and it just gets worse when you give it to her. Trust me, baby." He muttered, eyes pinching shut at the thought. This was routine, a painful routine he was far too used to. 

You huffed, crossing your arms, stepping out of his grasp, anger bristling in your chest. "You answered her every other time, Ed." You bit, jaw clenching to keep your tears from falling.

Eddie threw his hands up. "What do you want me to say here? I wasn't gettin' into that with her-"

"Because you think she's right." You challenged him, brows raised in suspicion. "You think there's something wrong with this? With us?"

"No, fuck," Eddie growled, vein in his neck protruding, angry and prominent against his flushed skin. "I don't think there's anything wrong with us, ok? I wouldn't be doin' this if I did-"

"Then why didn't you say anything?" You shrieked, throwing your hands out. "You made it look like you thought that!" Your heart hammered in your chest, defensive and angry. 

Eddie's eyes bulged, head jutting forward. "Why? I wasn't lettin' her use my daughter against me like that ok? It's fucked up, and she knows what she's doin'! She knows it'll piss me off, and I'll fight with her the way she wants, and I'm not doin' that!" He boomed, voice bouncing off the walls, echoing into your ears.

Your eyes cut down the hall towards Brielle's room. Eddie huffed, shaking his head. You stood in silence, Eddie shaking his head, exhaling a short huff of air.

"I'm sorry, ok? I'm sorry I didn't say anything to her, I just-" Eddie stopped himself. "I was done. Done letting her say shit to you, to me, and she always drags Brie into the middle of it to try and make me feel bad or-or fight with her more."

You looked down at your feet. "I'm sorry." You muttered.

Eddie shook his head. "You don't have nothin' to be sorry for-"

"No, I'm sorry." You said sincerely, eyes lifting to him. "I'm sorry she does that to you. 'S not right."

Eddie's face softened, lines smoothing when you grabbed his hand, holding it gently, pressing kisses into his palm. "I don't think there's anything wrong with us. I was just scared...you did."

Eddie gave a lopsided smile, pulling you into him by your waist. "Nuh-uh," Eddie smirked, lips moving to your cheek, soft feathery kisses pressing against your skin.

"Just like a pretty little thing like you to keep me young." He teased, large hands giving your ass a firm squeeze, smiling as you squealed into his ear. "Nothin' wrong with that."

You smiled, moving his curly tendrils out of his face. He kissed you fully, lips sliding over yours in a passionate kiss that had your cheeks heating. "Don't listen to her, alright?" Eddie muttered against your lips.

You nod, looking over your shoulder, face falling when you look at Brielle's door. Eddie followed your gaze, shoulders dropping. "Was she upset?" He asked.

You shrugged lightly. "She said she did it all the time... Apologized to me for what she said." You muttered.

Eddie cringed gently, air exhaling out his mouth in a loud sigh. "'M just gonna go check on her." He said, eyes softening to look at you. "See where the hell she wants these drawers too." He huffed, motioning to the unfinished project in the living room.

You grinned, smacking his ass playfully in his sweatpants. "Go check on her." You teased, winking at him.Eddie raised his brows, grinning before pointing at you. "You better watch yourself, little girl." He purred, smirking at your blistering flush.

[lemonjestercoffee]

horses! horses! horses! horses!

i redesigned them! with my own hcs and species design quirks. also woe, height chart be upon ye

some notes for everypony:

Twilight Sparkle- i like gold on her design but not the absurd amounts everyone else gives her for some reason, so i made it an accent color. yes her magic is gold now too because of her eyes. her hair was also inspired by Mikan Tsumiki's cause i thought a more orderly version of her choppy mess would look good on Twilight, i was right. also glasses go brr, i think she looks cute in 'em

Apple Jack- while i love the long fetlocks people give her, i can't see her actually doing that because they'd be a pain to keep clean, so i did the opposite and had her shave her feathering off. i also put her hair up to keep it off her neck so she doesn't overheat while working. her cutiemark is my favorite part cause it's that family symbol where two adults and a kid make a heart, but i made it an apple instead, does a better job at showing her emphasis on family ties. no hat cause i like the idea of her hat being from her dad, and she doesn't want to mess it up wearing it daily so she wears it exclusively to special events

Rainbow Dash- i decided to make her less of a living lightening bolt and leaned more into her lazy side, going for the type of butch lesbian look that makes her feel like she wears tank tops and hangs out in the basement getting drunk and listening to rock. i wanted her to look like the only part of her she actually puts effort into maintaining is her wings

Fluttershy- i take great enjoyment in making Flutters a fucking lumbering giant compared to his friends (yes my Flutters is a guy), taking fluttertree and running with it. no notes aside from tall and green patterns and long hair and ooo pretty bronze jewelry. ig also his cutie mark is like- it was suppose to just be a paw and a butterfly but i accidentally made a parasprite with it, and instead of fixing it i just rolled with it and made it look more intentional

Pinkie Pie- THIS HORSE GAVE ME SO MUCH TROUBLE!! every part of my body was like "give her patterns! add things to her hair! it makes sense for her!!" but everything i did looked wrong and i couldn't get it to work. so i bit the bullet and made her really plain... and it worked. i don't know why but she just.... looks so much better with a really simple design, the hair texture does all the heavy lifting really

Rarity- of everyone, she's the one who'd have the long pretty fetlocks, and i decided to double down on that by not only making them so long you can't see her hooves, but also by making her have the longest and softest coat in general. she has the time and dedication to take care of such a high maintenance coat and she's gonna do it. it's even more impressive when you realize ponyville uses exclusively dirt roads. aside from that i think she deserves nice jewelry, and they use leather straps cause i think leather would be a ponyville fashion staple, she shows her hometown pride in her fashion

Spike- i thought it was weird he was so small the whole run, he should have had a growth spurt at some point imo, so i made him a bit bigger and more proportional to the older teen dragons, this is less of a redesign and more of a "make him actually grow up" thing, he's still small but not toddler small. this is the point where Twilight starts complaining about him sitting on her back cause he's getting too heavy. i also don't like how adult Spike ended up looking, but i haven't made a redesign of him yet

i have made an older alicorn Twilight design that i've been referring to as Ethereal Twilight, but i might hold off on sharing that for a while cause i have some funky hc lore ideas for the alicorns that i wanna refine a little before posting her. maybe i'll have older Spike drawn by then too, who knows

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

An (incredibly long) "I want"-style song dedicated to the most unruly of trios: John Lennon, Paul McCartney, and George Harrison.

The setting is the late 50's – it's deliberately a bit of a mish-mash :-)

Lyrics below the cut!

John: Green

Paul: Blue

George: Purple

P&G: Pink

J&P: Red

JP&G: Neutral

Liverpool gave up on me the first day of preschool

Teachers called me unruly cause I don't suffer fools

And my aunt who says she can't believe I’d throw it all away

Quarrybank, that school for cranks suspended me the other day

All those lads who quit this band to learn a proper trade

Think that I don't understand the facts of getting paid

But you both see,

It's them not me, it's us and this here prophecy

Do you see us five years on – well

Maybe three, that's sort of long

As they're writhing for our songs

And “Your group's on now, John "

Earning some preposterous wage

Free of this less-town-more-cage

As we enter center-stage

In our gold disk age

And the birds will have to queue

For a single peck at you

Then, emboldened by the view

Watch them molt on cue

And all we need is not to quit,

They'll call us Great Britain's

Newest stars, brand new guitars, guaranteed not to split

Picture us: the favourite band

With a record deal in hand

Going deaf from screaming fans

As per my new masterplan

Where we going, fellas? Where we going?

Where we going, fellas? Where we going?

(To the topper-most of popper-most of popper, to the topper)

To the toppermost of the poppermost!

I hear music in my head

Wherever I go

It's like it's bursting out my soul

It's something I cannot control

Meanwhile I can't drop this tune

Every night When I get home

I watch dad roll his eyes

"Heard of this thing called a comb? "

I sigh as he implies

That mum would be

So unhappy and so disappointed in me

However inopportune

There's a decade dawning soon

Shooting for the moon

And John may seem unreasonable

But his dream is feasible

Sometimes yes, guess he's a gull

I'll appease him though

And then I see how for we're come

Joined, we're greater than our sum

See, the rhythm's in the strum

Of the guitars and then some

Playing my part in your vision, I'll

Grab a pen, so much to discover

Let's produce another

Lennon-McCartney original

See the day John and me met

And Yes George, I didn't forget!

We become a matching set

Writing tete-a-tete

Where we going, Johnny? Where we going?

Where we going, Johnny? Where we going?

(To the topper-most of popper-most of popper, to the toppermost)

And where do I fit in?

And when do I come in?

Is there a spot for me at the

To the toppermost of the poppermost!

I'm the youngest, there's no day when they let me forget

But the part Paul will not say: I'm their safest bet

See the fact is they don’t practice systematically like me

I know my chord charts, strings, fretboard, parts of my soul, sorted by key.

Still the world is their playground

And I am watching from the fence

I can't yet jump with confidence

But mum taught me about patience

I still feel Julia's arms around me every time I play

What would my mum say? (She tells me)

Anything I set my mind to  (She taught me everything)

The heights I'll climb to (She wanted everything)

My time soon

Anything to prove I'm worth it (Wouldn’t approve)

Move the earth, they'll learn…

I had to learn to be the only one believing in me

And ever since she's gone, I can hardly stand it (Mum says I can stand it)

No one understanding (Don’t quite understand it)

The thing she saw in me

And dad, he just wants me to be practical

She’d call me her rebel without applause and tell me

Just keep making noise, always play in your own key

I will wait patiently

He may believe in me but not my choice

They will have no choice but to love me

Where we going fellas? Where we going?

To the toppermost of the poppermost!

Insert band name here.

Liverpool has no idea what’s coming

Liverpool will never be the same

They’ll put up posters of us

Like on this truck

John, that’s a bus!

Put your glasses on, Jesus!

And dad will be non-plussed when

Walking down the street he’ll see John (John), Paul, George (George) of the…

Johnny and the Moondogs… What! Definitely not. The Shoes!

The Quarrymen… Nononononono, JaPaGe3!

Liverpool has no idea what’s coming

Liverpool will never be the same

When they all see us one as three the blasphemous song trinity.

Everybody’s bitching

Where’s that old ambition

That got you essay prizes and into the institute?

I’m not a delinquent

I’ve just been rethinking

No one realizes I’m still just as resolute

Just keep making noise

Always play in your own key

They will have no choice

But to love me

Anything I set my mind to

The heights I’ll climb to

My time soon

Anything to prove I’m worth it

Move the earth

They’ll learn from me.

Where we going, fellas? Where we going?

Where we going, Johnny?

Where we going, fellas? Where we going?

(To the topper-most of popper-most of popper, to the topper)

And where do I fit in and when do I come in?

Toppermost of the poppermost.

[mazzystar24]

I've been thinkin bout that bt scene. Obviously I might be totally wrong but idk, I feel like T kinda muttered "god I hope so" into his wine glass & not directly at Buck & he was being maybe kinda insecure, like in his head maybe since we assume he's older & more experienced he might think that's why Buck is sticking around?

Like idk, it's a call back somehow to the first date and the closet comment? Like T wants this to work out because he thinks Buck is adorable but you know they aren't really clicking so ya know whatever works? (But eventually it will fully break down)

And the way Buck said "but you think I do?" about the daddy issues is like Buck goin "....wait what?" in his head because his head does tilt a bit to the side like 🤔🤔🤔 And it's showing that they don't fit.

That it was intentionally weird & off putting.

Tho I do think the bit where T says "but your father is alive" wasn't meant to be snarky. Buck then says "Exactly" which I took as Buck being all "exactly, my dad's just THAT shitty and he's not going to change."

Off course then the speech Buck gave Chris is a bit eh, but like two things can be true at the same time. XD

Also I'm def not a bt shipper, Buddie all the way but yeah that's just how it came off to me. Lol.

I hope this makes sense.

I have been swamped with exams and neglected my inbox so 💐💐💐💐💐

Eh I feel like it was definitely more flirty than insecure like I’m tempted to add the gifsets for reference but I don’t want it to show up in the gif makers’ notifications but yeah like as he’s saying it it’s 100% like suggestive vibes rather than self deprecating making a joke about an actual insecurity vibe

Like I think for me this is definitely a horses not zebras moment

I do keep think that maybe the like off putting moments are intentional because so many weird choices have been made with BT

For the your dad is alive I think I wasn’t super clear on my opinion on it but like I don’t mean he said it to be snarky per say more so that the implications behind that line are things like “you’d feel differently if he wasn’t” or “you can fix things before he does” or as if that’s something to be thankful for or recognise when talking about his pseudo father nearly dying

Like the reason I hate this line isn’t that it necessarily has to be cruel intentions on Tommys part but rather that this sorta narrative gets forced down traumatised peoples throats CONSTANTLY (sometimes with good intentions) and it’s such a bullshit rhetoric and it’s even more bullshit to use that line while talking about this found family/pseudo father he has nearly dying

Also yeah that’s definitely what that “exactly” was meant to be like yup a dead dad would at least be less traumatising, a lot easier to explain, and probably easier on my therapist than this clusterfuck but alas

BUCKS SPEECH TO CHRIS- okay lots of thoughts on this because my mom got confused and picked thought daughter:

Do I love that the writers low-key made it sound like he’s comparing Eddie to the Buckley parents? no I hate it but KR was writing for this ep so what did we expect

Do I think a marginally better way to interpret it is that it was more so continuing that theme of paralleling buck and Chris’ issues? Yes

Are the basic and I mean like the very abstract very simple and nothing further parallels there? Yeah like parent not over their grief causes conflict between parent and child

Other than that no not at all Eddie never involved Chris in this, Kim came over with her Shannon cosplay without telling him, Eddie also never intentionally emotionally harmed Chris while the Buckley parents spent bucks entire life intentionally being the absolute worst™️ and emotionally neglectful and were shit parents to Maddie too by forcing her to pretend her brother didn’t exist while she was a child and mourning said brother

But I also think it’s actually very in character for buck to continue to sympathise with them and cut them an impossible amount of slack by trying to draw parallels to this situation like it’s less trying to paint Eddie more like them and more so using Eddie (someone he cares about and loves and sympathises with deeply) as a frame of reference to mentally try to humanise and sympathise with his own parents - idk if I’m making sense but in my head it makes sense

Like it’s actually a pretty common thing you see with traumatised people they’ll sorta draw parallels that aren’t there between themselves or the people they care about and the people who traumatised them because a lot of traumatised people will just constantly seek to understand that perspective more and sympathise with it like hell I’ve seen it with the people in my life doing it and it’s like woah those situations are very different I need you to recognise that

Loved hearing your view of it and it totally made sense!!!

Gonna see if there are any quick asks I can answer before I get back to my revision cos I definitely yapped more than I expected for this

[darling-i-read-it]

Sorry

Phillip Graves x fem!reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: mw2 spoilers, spoilers for the new packs and online campaigns and things, (me knowing NOTHING about the military. I just be googling words. I am very sorry if they are wrong! I also didn’t play the online stuff so I had to read on that too. So much work for u philip), the reader leaving price and ghost behind technically, grief, heavy insinuation to smut, VIOLENCE like a lot. Reader kills people and has a mini extensional crisis about it, let me know if I missed anything! 

Author’s Note: me: i’m so normal about him.  Also me: writes a six thousand word fanfiction about my delusions 

Summary: You and Phil had been together when he ‘died’ in the tank. You’ve been grieving him ever since, not knowing he was still out there. 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

When he was up in the air, sometimes Phil Graves thought about home. He thought about the way the air felt in the south. The heavy humidity of a late night around a fire with family and friends. His childhood home, a two story house with some land. The feeling of flannels over his shoulders, wind against his face when he rode the truck late at night, stupid country songs playing through the radio. He only let himself have these moments briefly. When he was up in the air and everyone was quiet with anticipation. No one wanted to talk about the moments before a descent, the seconds before disaster. 

That was when he let himself think of home. 

He thought of the world he used to call his own. He loved his job and he thought he was doing good with it. But sometimes he wondered what would’ve happened had he stayed back after high school, instead of hoping on the military like it was a moving train. 

Whoever that was, he was gone now. 

Shadow 0-1. Commander. That’s who he was now. That’s who he was always meant to be. That’s who he had been when he betrayed 141’s trust. That’s who he was when he got out of it. That’s who blew up in the tank in South America. That’s who misses you. 

“You good boss?” Phil snapped out of his thoughts. He nodded once. 

“Golden, Sparks. Thinking about dinner when we get back tonight.” 

“You makin barbecue?” 

“I sure am. Got a damn fine steak to cook.” 

“You really oughta have more get-togethers, like old times.” Phil gave his subordinate a thin lipped smile. He fondly remembered the times when he would bring his closer soldiers around, cook for them, listen to shitty music, drink beers. In the back of his eyelids he could see you, handing him the tongs, making a joke about his dad barbeque. He would tease you about children. 

He had stopped having them after the mission where he left some behind. He hadn’t wanted to; the strain in his voice was clear. But he had. 

“Maybe when I’m legally back from the dead,” he countered. Sparks chuckled and Graves stood up. It was far better to be back in the commanding position with his guys, the same ones who would follow him into fire. It distracted him from the rest of it. The house he lost, the home he no longer had. 

He had this. 

-

You brushed your hair out of your face. You messed with the glass in your hand, rolling it around the ring on the wooden table. The ice had melted into the alcohol, making it watery and less effective. It was cold outside, fall finally taking hold. You were wearing a thin jacket that seemed useless. 

This drink was Phil’s regular. You remembered it like the back of your hand, ordering it when he was caught up behind the crowds. It tasted like his lips after a long night out. It was warm, like his breath on your skin. 

“You listinin’?” You lifted your head. You had been staring at your half drank glass. Simon Riley’s eyes met yours. They were objectively beautiful. You would never understand why he kept them mostly covered up. 

“Yeah. Sorry.” He let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry. I just got lost in thought. What were you saying?” 

“I was asking what you thought about Price going back out there so soon.” 

“You of all people know what it’s like to be married to your work.” 

“You aren’t irked he’s going without you?” His accent was thick. It was rare to get him to talk like this but you had known each other so long, it felt ormal now. He seemed unnatural when he clammed up in missions. 

You shook your head. 

“I’ll get back into it,” you told him. You cleared your throat. His eyes narrowed down, staring at you. His long face felt threatening, though you knew better. You stared back at him, tilting your head and raising an eyebrow. “Stop staring at me like that.”

“How many times does Soap have to apologize for you to get over it?” You bit the inside of your cheek, shaking your head. 

“Stuff it Simon.” 

“I won’t. It’s been a year. We’ve given you your time, we’ve apologized, we’ve been nice and cordial about it. You need to realize who Graves was and that what happened to him was warranted. There’s only so many times we can spell it out for you before we stop babying you.” As he spoke, your head continued to shake. It felt like the words were rattling around in your brain, bouncing off your skull. He was right, you knew that. But the words still stung.  

“You don’t understand,” you protested. He cut you off. 

“I know I don’t. You’ve told me.” You leaned back in your chair, your glass landing with a light clang. “Love,” he muttered, leaning forward. “It’s time.” 

You wished you could be done with it. You wished that his words could will all the pain to subside. You wished you didn’t have to suck it up when Soap followed Phil to the tank and blew it up. You wished you could forget about the moment you held your tongue, knowing that if you spoke up you would be a traitor too. You wished everything was different.

You didn’t want it to hurt anymore. You didn’t want to wake up and think he was next to you, even now. It got better as the time passed but it never fully went away. You knew it was never going to subside completely, always stuck to you like a stain you couldn’t get out. 

“I’m trying,” you promised. “I’m trying.” 

“You need to come to the next one.” Everytime you put on a headset you could hear Soap's words. Graves is KIA. How’s Price? He moved past it with such grace you almost missed it the first time. 

“I’ll try.” 

“You need to do more than that.” You swallowed hard. 

“I know.” -

“I’m glad you’re here.” Price's voice was low but gentle. Careful. Like you were an object that would break if he spoke to you the wrong way. 

“Me too,” you said, nodding. Your voice sounded fake and you knew it. You only agreed to this because you knew you had to. You had Price here and Ghost promised he would do all the heavy lifting. It would be nothing. The men you trusted would have your back when you flew out to enemy territory. “You didn’t have to lobby for me, you know.” You had become a liability the second Graves became a traitor. The already rocky relationship with the Shadows was broken clean in half. You were a problem now. 

“I wanted to. You’re one of my best shooters.” 

“Did Simon tell you to?” 

“He gently nudged me.” He had his helmet on, the strap under his chin. It had been a while since you saw him in uniform. 

“Where are we going again?”

“You should really read the debriefs.” You shrugged. You used to, religiously. You would tell Phil classified information like it was pillow talk. He would give it back to you after coffee in the morning. You cleared your throat. 

“I do. I just trust you more than the papers,” you joked halfheartedly. 

“Don’t worry too much. It’s all scouting, no shooting.” 

“Why’re you bringing me and Ghost then?” 

“I like hanging out with you guys.” You laughed, this time for real. He gestured forward. “Let’s head out.” 

-

You could only see the blocks of land below you in the plane. You wondered who was living in the little houses the size of dots. You wondered if they were happy. You could feel the sweat piling in your uniform. 

“There’s some guns held in a storage facility. They shouldn’t be heavily guarded but will be servilenced,” Price said. He spoke above the noise in the plane, loud and rumbling. “Ghost, you’ll go ahead. I’ll be down there outside the building, watching your six. Y/L/N, you’re up here on guns.” 

“It’s boring up here,” you complained. “Can’t I come with you guys?” 

“We need you on your A game to be on the ground,” Ghost said, coldly. You gave him a look but couldn’t read his expression with the mask. Price was avoiding your eyeline on purpose, you could feel it. It almost felt like a fake mission, something to get you back out there without putting you in real danger. Though you were vaguely insulted, it was nice to know they cared. You tried to shove your feelings aside. 

“Alright,” you said finally. “Fine.” 

“You’re good on guns,” Price said. “An Eagle eye will ensure everyone's safety.” 

“I already said alright Price,” you said as gently as you could manage. The plane started to slow down to a hover. Price stood up, using the railing above to steady himself. 

“You ready?” Simon questioned, coming up behind you as you stood up. You nodded once. Muscle memory would kick in before your panic would. Everything would be fine. 

“As I’ll ever be.” 

“You’ll be fine.”

“I know.” 

Ghost gave you one last pat on the back before he walked towards the back of the plane. You watched him go, his hand on his side, looped around his belt. Price followed behind. He turned back to look at you, the wind rushing towards the front. You tried to keep your face neutral, professional. Your bones ached with familiarity. This was okay. This would be okay. 

You turned towards the guns. The plane had a designated corner for them, buttons lining the walls. You zoomed in on the house that was holding the guns, turning it to infrared. You sat down at the chair, leaning over it. You didn’t need to put on all your gear to push some buttons but you refrained from complaining. 

“You hear me clear up there?” Ghost’s voice came through your ear piece. 

“Yes sir. Loud and clear.” You could see Ghost’s little figure as he landed. “I’m seeing two hostels outside of the building. On either side of the doors, they both have guns.” “Roger,” Ghost said. You followed his heat signature. Price had also made his way to the ground.

“What’s the house looking like?” he asked. You moved your camera along, narrowing in on the building. You could see men walking. Patrolling. You couldn’t help but wonder how many guns were being held there. The building was larger than Price made it seem. Were they in the heart of the building, with the clump of men? 

“Lots,” you admitted. 

“Give me a ballpark,” Price responded. You could see Ghost down there, taking out the men. He was always quick with it. Sometimes you forgot that the man you shared drinks with was a cold blooded murderer. You would not want to be at the other end of his knife. 

“Ten upstairs. Can’t tell how many downstairs. Probably 20?”

“That’s quite a few people for some guns,” Ghost chimed in. 

“No kidding,” you muttered. “I can see some on the balcony. I’m ready to hit whenever Cap.” 

“Roger,” Price responded. You went to hone in, aiming just in case Ghost needed back up quicker than you could aim.

The plane jerked right, causing you to lose focus. You cursed, shutting one eye to get a clearer view. You painlessly lined it back up. Just as you had it, the plane jerked again. 

“Hey man!” you called to the front. “Steady!”

“You seein this?” the pilot called. You turned back towards the infrared. Ghost hadn’t made it inside yet. You got out of your chair and pushed aside the door to the cockpit. Through the large window you could see another plane making its way towards you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. How could someone know you were here? 

“Enemy plane?” you asked. 

“Not on any paths,” he admitted. “I’m willing to bet.” You quickly pivoted back towards the infrared. 

“Hey boys, we got some company up here.” 

“We need to secure this area,” Price said. His voice had gone rough. Professional now.

“If they’ve got more men, we aren’t securing shit,” you told him. 

“I’m going through the downstairs,” Ghost added. With his voice you could hear gunshots and commotion. You cursed and sat back down. 

“Do I have permission to shoot Price?” 

“Yes,” he responded, quickly. You pushed down on the trigger, taking out the men on the balcony. They fell with ease. You looked back towards the cockpit. The plane was only getting closer. You could hear the pilot trying to contact it, like it was a civilian plane. The menacing figure loomed in the air. 

“How much longer?” you asked. 

“Five minutes,” Ghost responded. 

“Fuck,” you muttered. “We don’t have five minutes.” 

“Make five minutes.” You stood back up and went back to the cockpit. You put your hand on the chairs. 

“It’s an AC-130,” the pilot called. “Military.” 

“I’m going down,” you yelled. “Get me down there.” There was little protest from the pilot. You grabbed your gun off the chair. The back hatch lowered. The wind rushed towards you. The air was threatening with how fast it blew. It was like the whole world was going to be sucked into the plane. 

You took a deep breath. Life or death. Your friends would die if you didn’t do something. 

You turned back towards your safe spot in the plane. It looked more dangerous by the second. Each moment you hesitated was a moment wasted. 

You turned back towards the entrance. You grabbed the leftover parachute and buckled it tightly. 

And you jumped. 

There was a moment of sheer panic. You forgot the reason you were in the air, you just knew you were freefalling. You were rushing towards the hard ground, towards the sound of gunfire. Everything felt fake for about ten seconds. 

Then you pulled on the parachute line and drifted towards the ground. 

“What’re you doing down here?!” Ghost said in your ear. You wondered if he could see you through the window. 

“Helping!” you called back. Price was right. You were one of his best shooters, handicapped or not. You rushed forward, shielding yourself with a large rock. You looked down at the gun, the familiar feeling in your hand. You took a deep breath, checking to make sure it was loaded and ready. Then you turned around and started to shoot. 

There was so much going on that it was almost simple. You couldn't focus on one thing so you tried to just breathe. Each shot was a breath. You didn’t think about how that was a person's life. Each shot a family member, a father, a sister. You forgot all of that as you focused on your breathing and your aiming. 

“They’re deploying from the plane!” Price said in your ear. You still had no idea where he had gone. 

“We should call for backup!” you said back. “Gaz’ll be here in twenty minutes!” 

“Soap is closer,” Ghost said. He was in the house. You could tell by the amount of silence around him. He must have cleared the floor. 

“Call someone!” you yelled. Price’s voice started to drone on but you didn’t pay much attention. You moved closer to the house, sticking close to cover. Blood was smearing your clothes now. How many people were here? How many people would come? 

You looked up at the enemy plane. There had been a constant train of people but now they were slowly diminishing. 

You came to a startled stop beside a body that had landed next to cover. You reloaded, your back against the wood, your eyes looking towards the body without thinking. Your head snapped back up but when it registered something familiar, it looked back at the body. 

You kneeled all the way down. Your fingers brushed a Shadows patch, engraved on the lifeless soldiers' clothing. Your head started to blur. You hadn’t seen that symbol in months. Its patchwork was now smeared with blood, likely your doing. You ripped off the soldier's helmet. 

You recognized him. 

Sparks. He had come over for a barbecue. He helped Phil cook. The taste of brisket hit your tongue. The smell of a campfire. 

You scampered onto the ground, almost falling over to get away from him. The sounds of gunfire started to muffle. Your breathing grew ragged. Was someone speaking? You held your gun tightly, like it was the only thing holding you to the ground. Was that Price’s voice? You looked around, the sun suddenly blaring. You should’ve come at night. There were clouds. How dare there be clouds when people were dying? You wanted Simon. You wanted Phil. 

Someone came around your cover. You raised your gun, a fumble really. You raised it to the soldier in front of you, finger on the trigger, fully intending to shoot. The man in front of you had halted completely. His gun stayed on you, capable of killing you easily, but it remained. He had a helmet on. The glare of the sun covered his face. 

Your hands were still shaking. 

Suddenly things felt very quiet. A subtle movement of the soldier revealed a glimpse of his face. A face you knew very well. 

It all flashed in your mind. His morning snoring, the shitty dad jokes, his guttural laughter. The sound of his truck starting. His mom’s phone number. The first thing you bought for your shared apartment. The taste of his lips. The feeling of his hands on your skin. HIs eyes in the moonlight. The feeling that you could never shake when he died. 

He turned and ran. You stood up. You gathered your bearings and followed him, almost slipping on yourself to do so. He couldn’t get very far. People were shooting at you but you had him as a cover. You shoved him down and disarmed him. It usually wouldn’t have been easy to do. Maybe he let it happen. You pulled his collar so you could land behind a discarded car. He struggled against you as you ripped off his helmet completely, disconnecting whatever comm he was using. 

His hands reached forward for yours and he took it off, not even bothering to unbuckle your chin strap. His touch felt like a ghosts. The same calloused hands that promised you the world. Your eyebrows furrowed, recognition in your eyes. You reached forward, not thinking. You cupped his face, your fingers sprawled on his cheek and neck. 

“Phil?” you whispered. He couldn’t hear you over the commotion but he could read your lips. He knew what his name looked like coming from your mouth. 

He didn’t know you were going to be here. If he had, he never would have come. He can’t do this, he can’t blow his cover like this. He had been told maybe Price would make an appearance but you had been out of the field since his death. He was breathing heavily. He couldn’t come near you because he would cave. It was hard enough being without you, checking his phone like you would text him. 

“Y/L/N?! Y/N!” Your comm was going insane. It was on the ground though, forgotten. 

He was alive. Phillip was alive. His face was there and it was moving, all flesh and blood. You never thought you would see him again except in pictures and videos, ones where you had memorized all his movements. 

“Phillip Graves?”

“Yeah baby. Yeah.” His voice was quiet, like he was in disbelief too. You fought the tears rising to your eyes.

“How..how are you here?”

“Long story. “

“I wanna hear it.” 

“Your men are shooting my men right now,” he said, like it was a minor inconvenience. 

You snapped back into reality. Suddenly all the sounds became crystal clear again. Time resumed. You grabbed your comm and put it to your ear. 

“I’m okay! I’m okay!” you said. 

“Come back with me,” Phil said quickly. 

“What?” He grabbed your comm, putting it in his back pocket.. You reached for it like a child, even letting out a gentle unintentional whimper. 

“Come back with me,” he repeated. “Get in my plane.”

“You’re dead. You died in a tank in South America!” 

“You should know MacTavish couldn’t take me out.” He cupped your face with both his hands. You had never felt something so good. “Quickly. Yes or no.” 

He dreaded a no. He knew Shepherd would have you killed or kidnapped. You couldn’t go back to your friends, knowing what you now knew. They could come up with a retaliation before Graves had even gotten on his feet again. 

You had been waiting months for him to come back to you. The answer, despite your morals and your stress, seemed to slip off your tongue easily. 

“Yes. Yes I’ll go with you.” He smiled, a genuine smile, covered in dirt and grime. 

“C’mon baby. Follow me.” He put his comm back in his ear and grabbed your hand. He held it tightly, like you would slip away. “I’m going back up. How’re we lookin?”

“Significant casualties. The shooter on the edge is killing us.”

“I got her,” he responded. He looked back towards you and you both stood up. He nodded towards the plane, which still had the latter hanging down. “The guns?” 

“The house is being defended. We haven’t been able to break through.” 

“We can’t afford to lose those. Do what you have to.” He held your hand tightly, dragging you through the battlefield. You passed those that had died in the rubble. You wondered if you had been the cause. Your head was spinning, looking towards the house. You couldn’t even think yet, things were going so fast. All you knew was Phil and his hand in yours. 

He grabbed your hips, helping you onto the first step of the ladder. 

“I’m comin back up,” he said into his comm. “Someones ahead of me, foreign. Do not shoot. I repeat, do not shoot.” There was a muffled reply. He climbed all the way to the top with you, helping you up onto the plane floor. You pulled yourself up and stood in the middle of the hanger. There was barely anyone left up there. You looked towards the window. 

Price. Simon. 

You had left them. You hadnt’ meant to. You hadn’t even thought for longer than a moment about it. You put your hand flush against the glass, looking down. You wanted them to make it out okay. They would surely think you had died. 

You hadn’t thought this through. 

Your favorite ghost had returned and asked you to go to hell with him. You hadn’t even thought.

“Price. Ghost,” you said, quickly. You turned to Graves, panicked. “Let them go. Don’t hurt them.” 

“I need those guns.” You had heard his work voice before, the slur between charming and serious. At that moment, his voice was all game. He was giving you an order. 

“I need them to live.” 

“They shouldn’t have come.”

“I came.” Phil pursed his lips, chewed the inside of his cheek. He looked towards the pilot and the men still in the plane. Your eyes were back out the front window, seeing the plane you had just come out of. You had just been there, standing in that cockpit. The feeling was eerie, tingling in the back of your neck. “Phil please.” 

Graves thought for a moment. He looked towards you, your pleading puppy dog eyes. He could see you in the morning, when he said goodbye before work. He could see your back in the bathroom mirror, foggy from a shower. Your favorite cereal on his taste buds. The way you had your coffee. 

“We’re losing numbers down here!” a voice came in his ear. He looked back down towards the house. Ghost was taking his men out one by one. Price was likely sneaking behind them, sniping from somewhere. 

But Phil was a proud man. He wasn’t going to let those people die for no reason. 

“Those men are dead down there,” he said, evenly. He approached you. His hand gripped your arm. “They can’t have died for nothing.” 

“Let me call them off. Give me something to call them off,” you pleaded. He groaned in retaliation but gave you your comm back. You put it in your ear.

“I’m getting overwhelmed here!” Ghost exclaimed. 

“Get out of there! Get out of there!” you said, desperately. You turned back to the window. “There’s too many of them. They keep coming.” 

“She’s right,” Price said, voice gruff. “We need an exit. Soap is on his way.”

“To help?” 

“Not enough manpower right now. We have to take this loss.” You could practically hear Ghost’s annoyance. He had done all this and it would’ve been for nothing? He groaned. You stood there, deathly still. “Get to the southside of the building,” Price demanded. “Both of you.” You looked back at Phil, who was staring eagerly. You nodded once. He patted your back, turning back to the pilot. 

“Set up post.” 

-

Some men made their way back up to the plane. Others stayed down below to hold down the fort. The ones you recognized starred as they passed you, sitting in the front seat, just behind Graves. He made no comment on you being there. Didn’t talk on the way back to base. 

He knew he would have to face Shepherd about it. He just happened to figure he would win. Shepherd couldn't do shit with the Shadows until Graves got back. He was useful and he was a good soldier. Breaking this rule would be okay, he was sure of it. 

You followed him onto the tarmac, your body close to him. The plane landed unceremoniously. People gently spoke about their win. Most mourned their losses. No one had managed to get it in their head that you had probably killed their best friend. Most everyone just ogled you in confusion. 

“We’re going back to my room,” he explained. You wanted an explanation. You wanted to yell at him. You wanted to scream. 

“Okay.” 

He led you through the twisting turns of the facility. You had never been in the Shadows main buildings before. They were high tech and likely dangerous. 

Graves opened the door to his room. It was larger than the others, for being the Commander. He didn’t have to sleep in bunks or share a room when he was on base. He had called you from this room dozens of times. The phone he used had been crushed, unable to receive anything. He missed it. It had all the pictures of the two of you. 

The door clicked shut behind you. You wanted to fight him but in the moment, you could only melt. You wrapped your arms around him and he held onto you for dear life. His touch was fiery and aggressive. He was digging his fingers into your sides, breathing in the scent of your hair. He had missed you so much. More than he had been able to let on. He never wanted to live without you again. 

“I thought you were dead,” you whispered. You hadn’t realized the tears had steadily made their way back until you felt them on your cheeks. Graves had his face buried deep into your neck. “I mourned you.” 

“I know baby,” he muttered against your skin. “I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” 

He was crying. When was the last time you had seen him cry? He sniffled, though he tried to make it subtle. He pulled back, turning away to rub his eyes. You grabbed his shoulders, not letting him. 

“What happened?” you asked quietly. Speaking any louder than a whisper seemed like a crime. 

“Shepherd.” 

“You weren’t in the tank?” He shook his head. You let out a sigh of relief, despite the horrors you had been through over the months you had believed he was in there. He grabbed your hand. 

“I never wanted to leave you,” he promised. His eyes were red, stuffy. He wasn’t sobbing but there were clearly tears forcing their way through his hard exterior. “I did it because I thought it would keep you safe. It would keep you out of the way.” 

“You’ve just been out there?” you asked, voice hinting of betrayal. It broke his heart. 

“Missing you every second of every day.” 

“Did you know where I was?” 

“I wasn’t allowed on missions with you confirmed to be in it. It was supposed to be Price, maybe Ghost, maybe Soap today. It wasn’t supposed to be you.”

“I was a last minute addition.” 

“And thank God for that.” His hands were staying on you, lingering. “Bringing you back was selfish,” he admitted. “But I couldn’t leave you again.” 

“When they told me you were dead,” you started, swallowing your emotions. “I couldn’t eat for a week. Simon had to come force me. I had to pack up all your clothes in the closet, give them to your mother. I had to go to your funeral, the funeral of a federal traitor. I had to see the man who killed you everyday in the hallway,” you spilled. Your voice felt fluid. “I had to..I had to tell Price I was getting better when I wasn’t. I had your drink every time I went to the bar. I haven’t had barbeque in months. I had to go on shitty first dates with people Soap set me up with. I slept in your flannel. I..all my plants died.” 

Phil’s voice was quiet. He was pleading, lips wet. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He tried to grab your hands. Ground you. You let him. You stared at him, breathing heavily, reliving every moment you had without him. “I’m sorry.” 

“I can’t…I can’t do that again.”

“Me neither. Trust me.” You both were still covered in blood and dirt. You could feel the grime between your fingers. You could see the muck on his face, his perfect face. You put your hand on his cheek. 

“Promise me.” 

“I promise. I swear to God,” he whispered. 

And you kissed him. 

And things had never felt so right. 

His lips were frenzied, desperate. He had never tasted something so good in his life. You were all he had been craving, every moment of every day. His hands were practically shaking as he touched you. Long lost was his Commander front. He was just Phil. 

You hadn’t been so desperate for him since you first had him. Your anguish pushed forward onto his skin, holding him as close as you could get him. He tasted like beer and cologne and dirt. 

Phil turned you on your heels so he could sit down on the bed. You straddled him, hands cupping his face, running through his hair. You were both too bulky for this kind of making out. You hadn’t stripped of any gear, still wearing weapons of mass destruction. You pulled away, to verbalize this, but he spoke first. 

“Baby I need you. I need you,” he breathed. He kissed you chastly. “Please don’t stop.”

He used to hold back his pleading. He thought it made him look weak in front of you, unattractive. But he couldn’t do it now, when his defenses had been long shattered. 

“We need to take all this off,” you said. You looked down into his eyes. They were so beautiful and needy that it hurt your chest. You kissed his lips again, as a promise. “We gotta take off the grenades at least.” He chuckled. He had forgotten all about that. You brushed his hair back, out of his face. “Phil,” you muttered. “Philllip Graves,” you mumbled, a borderline moan. He groaned in need. 

“Quickly. Quicker than that.” You laughed. It was the first time you had heard your laugh in months. It was genuine and filled with life. It felt good. You slid off him and started to strip. 

He studied you with such intense eyes it felt like you were the most beautiful woman in the world. 

-

You almost couldn’t fall asleep. You traced his features with your gaze, even with his closed eyes. The scar on his cheek. You traced it lightly with your finger. His hair was still wet from the shower. You had both slipped and slid around the bathroom, limbs remaining intertwined. He had made it a point to always be starring or always be touching. You were his. You would never be anyone else's. 

He had an arm lazily around your side. You had so much to worry about, so much to do. Were you technically behind enemy lines? What would happen when you woke up in the morning?

Phillip groaned and pulled you closer, smushing you against his chest. 

“Woah there cowboy,” you whispered. He smiled, eyes still closed. 

“You remember when you used to take my hat?” he asked fondly. You did. The cowboy hat rule. If you wear his hat, you ride the cowboy. You giggled, nodding against the pillow.

“I do.”

“We should do that again.”

“We can do whatever you want,” you told him. “Whatever you want.” He nodded. 

“Go to sleep. I’ll figure it out in the mornin.” He put his chin on your head. “I got you.” You believed him. 

You hadn’t had such a good sleep since he died, exhaustion over taking your body and forcing you into darkness. 

[aupermittymeowmeow]

Yandere Sim Redesign-Rivals 6-7

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Another ooooonnneee yayyy! This time it's Muja Kina and Mida Rana!

First is Muja Kina! I gave her scrubs since it's more 'professional'(My dad wore scrubs during his time in nursing school so I went off of that). She is a mom who is going through nursing school! Her daughter is Kaguya(1980s) and her sister is the Lingerie Shop Owner(20xx). THE WEEK: During her week, a flu virus will break out into the school! Many students will wear masks(I like to think that if you don't wear one your reputation will go down). Many students will also occupy the nurses office! Since she is an assistant nurse, she will be by the head nurse most of the time. Taeko will heavily like her because of her personality and kindness(I tried to make it less gross, like when you develop a crush on a teacher but grow out of it?). ELIMINATIONS:

Fired-A fun one! Alex said he wanted the faculty to have a different meter than the students for expulsion and such. During her week, you can report her to the guidance counselor about bad things(Like giving kids the wrong pills, not tending to them, an unhealthy environment, ect.). Pills-Since she tends to forget stuff, you can use this to your advantage. When she isn't looking(and if you have the keys), you can grab the pills from the cabinet and switch them for something else(Lethal or non-lethal). This will result in her getting either fired or arrested

Cotton Candy-Since her favorite food is cotton candy, maybe you can use that as well! Taeko will gift her candy on a specific day, so you can switch it out for fiber glass! This will kill her Rejection-You can make Muja reject Taeko, causing her to become more distant from her. After her week, Muja will see Taeko as a prankster who is trying to make a fool of her Needles-I thought of this during the Rival Intro Video! She will have an event where she will run while carrying a tray of needles. You can make her trip using a wire, then you can put acid or chemicals from the lab in the needles. If she falls on them, she will melt from the acid

CANON ELIMINATION: Fired! Fits better I think

Next is Mida Rana! Ew-I tried to make her outfit more appropriate since we can't have her bazongas out at school. THE WEEK: During her week, the school will have exams! That also means after school study sessions! She will be subbing for Senpai's class since the actual teacher got sick from the flu last week. Mida, like the other teachers, has had immense training for protection, so it will be hard to kill her. I want this week to be a little more serious, so after Mida sexually harasses and assaults Taeko, the high schooler will fall into a deep state of depression and kill herself on Friday after school. This won't happen unless you take a peaceful route... ELIMINATIONS: Arrested-Since she is a pedo, you will need to get evidence of her acting inappropriately with students at school. On Friday, Genka will fire Mida and report her to the police. Matchmaking-For this, you gotta use Toga(poor boy-). You will need to make Mida more interested in him, drawing her attention away from Taeko, but this will cause Toga to be more paranoid and antisocial Tripping-Since she wears heals, it can be used to her disadvantage. You'll need to pour water on her, so'll she'll go the the teacher's locker room and change. Steal her heels, chip them(with like a saw or axe) and put them back. As she walks up the stairs to class, her heel can break and she'll fall, busting her head open and killing her

CANON ELIMINATION: Jail, jail, JAIIIILLLLLLL!!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Another one finished!! Here is the list: Kokona-Posted

Amai-Posted

Kizana-Posted

Oka-Posted

Asu-Posted

Muja-Posted

Mida-Posted

Osana-Waiting

Osoro-Waiting

Hanako-Waiting

Megami-Waiting

[bluescribble]

(kinda a long post)

JOHN : He's the kid who has lived the most "normal" life out of all the beta kids. I like to think he looks like a relatively average boy, and that his dad took good care of his son. I'm willing to bet Dadbert only bought him clothes that fit him well, so he nevers looks frumpy or whatever, but he doesn't look fancy. He isn't too thin or big, although maybe he has bit of baby chub here and there (he's still growing up :P) but overall he's healthy. I like to think he looks like a more masculine Jane Crocker, so he has Jake's features but looks softer ? you get what i mean. I also like to think he has thinner and straighter eyebrows, just to get that "innocent" hero look.

ROSE : To be quite honest I think people should point out how similar she's to Dirk sometimes. Like, I think she inherited his"vanity" to keep up appearances, esp about his hair. I like to imagine she keeps extra care of it, but doesn't quite know how to. I doubt she'd ask her mom how to do it, so her bangs become all dry and stringy in an attempt to have them pefect. I gave her lots of volume cuz I think it makes her look dramatic tbh. She looks masculine in the sense that I think she might have a little more muscle definition than Dave. I'm not talking body builder but like, you know how some people look a bit toned without doing anything ? That's that. Her face is more angled, her eyebrows are a little more filled in (like alpha Strider) but her sprite still shows she kept those enigmatic Lalonde eyes. Though I'd still like an aloof Rose Lalonde lol. She looks healthy enough, but not as she should be I think. Also she looks like an octopus.

DAVE : Same thing, I prefer to compare him to Roxy. Out of all the betas in my head he looks very soft. I don't personally draw his hair all rough like John's, for him it's more soft strokes and the like, to give the same impression as Roxy's little twirl thingy in her hair. His eyebrows are a little rounded too, not straight like Egbert's but definitely less harsh. As seen by Hussie's sketch of the Striders without glasses, he has big ol' eyes. So I'd imagine he has a more sultry shape than Rose. He's got a bit of a baby face. He's very skinny though, since Bro doesn't feed him properly. Physical activity + no food = bad tbh.

JADE : In terms of looks, she looks so bubbly. I haven't drawn all the alphas yet but I think she'd have Jake's "wonder" aura or wtv and Jane's big lashes, which gives her large anime eyes haha. She just has so much energy and wit. I tried to make her face look like Jane but with Jake's more "masculine" face shape, as in square. English just gave the "slightly square face shape" gene to his ecto-family lmao. So I tried to round the edges of her face abit, but it distinctly looks a little square. She probably has straight-ish eyebrows, but with a stern look overall ? Jane's skepticism about stuff comes to mind with that. Also I wanted to give the effect that if you shortened her hair she'd look like Jane and Jake at the same time (I haven't drawn the alphas ik but shh). She's probably healthy enough, I mean she has all the veggies and game she needs on her islands, and gadjets and whatnot. She might look the most normal with John, but her upbringing is left to be desired :(

i don't believe in artstyles personally, but that's what comes to mind usually

[mayisgoingnuts]

“ Healthy way to calm down “

-> ROSIE TICKLE FIC

Summary: Roy's solution to relieve stress is... quite aggressive, to say the bare minimum. But now that he got a conscious girlfriend, he's practically forced to let go of such habit and find a better one, seeing that it only causes MORE damage. In the end, Susie's idea can be pretty "dumb"... but works surprisingly well.

———————

Disclaimers: Angry Roy (duh), Brief "Teenagers of opposite sex alone in a room" kind of talk/vent, fluffy tickles, A LOT OF TEASES /silly ;; nothing else :]

Author's Note: Holy shit it's been so long since I've written a tickle fic kwhdjshdw LET'S SEE HOW IT GOES!!! Hope you guys enjoy!!

Tagging my dearest pookies for criticism/silly /hj @clownazon @merwynsartblog

“ What the hell are you doing?! ”

Susie yelled, pulling Roy back almost as instinct. He leaved for a moment, A MOMENT to go talk to his parents because they called... and he's already like this. Pissed, almost throwing a glass (that is inside his bedroom for God-knows-how-long) on the floor.

The boy just groaned, holding the glass tight and turning his head towards her with a louder tone.

“ Let go of me!! ”

“ Then answer my question, dammit! ”

Roy scowled, rolling his eyes and finally letting his grasp loose slightly. “ TRYING to calm myself down! Are you blind?! ”

Susie just stood there for less than ten seconds, sighing and taking the cup out of his hand, now showing more worry than before, although not letting it too explicit. She placed it on the bedside table again.

They just stayed quiet, Roy with his arms crossed as he looked away. Susie fidgeted her fingers, giving him some time before speaking up.

“ ..they said some messed up bullshit, didn't they? ”

She asked. Roy just looked down, frowning even harder.

“ It's not even that damn serious.. my dad just complained again about staying alone with you and all that... old people talk. ” He huffed. “ That's getting fucking annoying. ”

In a way, she's glad that it's not anything too deep... but if it's enough to get him like this, then looks like reason enough to not just laugh it off.

“ Yeah, that really sucks. Kinda makes me feel like some sort of wild animal or something. ”

“ Hmph. I can control myself... actually, it's not like I even want anything! ” Despite being glad that he's being understood, the anger is slowly building again. “ Just because those old ass people didn't had TV and had kids like if it was a sport, it doesn't mean I will! ”

“ Mhm! ”

“ Just... UGH!! I can't do ONE thing without them complaining about it! Letting you come by was already a pain, now I got another whole ass problem! ”

“ Mhm... ” She's slowly noticing his voice getting stronger.

“ What's next? Making me stay with you in the living room? Because THEY WOULD! ”

“ Mm..? Roy? ”

“ Can't have one fucking thing inside this damn house, never fucking ever! ”

“ Roy. ”

“ I'M NOT EVEN SURE HOW THEY LET ME HAVE A GIRLFRIEND STILL-! ”

As Roy began to pull his own hair, Susie stopped decided not to just agree with a nod anymore, grabbing his wrists and approaching his face to hers.

“ ROY! ”

The boy finally woke up to reality, having his eyes widened for a few seconds before frowning again.

“ You have to calm down, at this rate you'll try to break something else- ”

“ That's how I calm down, dammit. ”

The comment caught her off-guard, raising an eyebrow. “ ..by breaking things? ”

“ Meh. Or like, hitting my pillow until my hands get tired or start to hurt. Whatever shit that works. ”

This is definitely not a good sign, and now just more than ever she's up to change that. She looks around, trying to find something that could help.

“ Maybe we can play some games? ”

“ I'll lose. And then I'll just get even more pissed. ”

“ Uh... then what about watching TV? ”

“ No. ”

She thinks a little more, visibly struggling. All the options she gave didn't received any positive reactions, but giving up is definitely not happening either. Tired, Susie decided to just jump to the old, clingy options.

“ ..cuddles? ” She muttered, not used to saying it outloud just yet. They're not the type of being explicitly lovely.

Roy's eyes finally show any interest, but hiding it right afterwards. “ What, are you that desperate to make me shut up? ”

“ Yes or no, idiot. ”

He just stared in silence for some more seconds, now blushing lightly. “ ..yeah, dumbass. ”

The both of them just quietly moved to the bed, laying down as Susie decides to be the big spoon this time, hugging Roy with his back turned at her. However, despite being comfortable, she could still see some annoyance on his face. Not that it was bad, but his mind is still thinking about it regardless.

“ Can't stop thinking about them? ”

Roy clenched his fists. “ Mhm. ”

The girl sighed, squeezing him once as an attempt to be more affectionate. This isn't working... sure, he's not aggressive anymore, but that's just not enough. She wanted him in a good mood, not just... quiet. If she just wanted him to stay quiet, she would've just told him to shut up or smacked his head, which is definitely not the case.

This is all too complicated... nothing comes to her mind, at all. All she can do to express support is leave a soft kiss on the back of his neck, pulling down the collar of his sweater to do so.

For some odd reason, his head went back slightly along with a low hum, trying to intervene her peck.

“ Hm? ”

Roy slowly returned to the old position, resting his arms on Susie's once again, not paying much attention to it. Which is the opposite of Susie's case.

Just to check it again, her lips once again touched his skin. It sent a shiver down his spine, and his knees discreetly moved up, already prepared to just curl up onto a ball.

“ Quit it. It tickles. ”

He finally revealed, not even looking back at her. Those words sounded like a click to her brain. Of course! That's the same technique she uses with Pump when he's upset! Well, kinda... either way, she could easily try that!

If he doesn't get annoyed with tickling, that is...

And once again, Susie repeated the same movement as before, this time not letting go immediately, but still not doing it so consecutively. It can be considered a test.

“ H-Hey, I said it tickles. ”

Susie simply hugged him tighter, and it was enough for him to get the message: she's more than aware of such fact. Roy bends his neck backwards once again, trying to frown even harder to contain the reactions she's trying to force out of him.

“ Are you serious? I thought y-you... wanted to help me- ”

“ And I do. ”

“ Well, t-this is not helping! ”

And for his own unluck, his body decided to betray him. Roy's words were contradicted as soon as that same smile slowly revealed itself, along with a quick 'pfft' noise.

“ What? I didn't got it. ”

Roy innocently tried to repeat. “ I said- ”

Before the realization could even hit, he's already feeling her kisses back to his neck, this time a bit quicker than before.

“ Motherfuhucker! ”

Is the first thing that comes out, now hearing his own chuckles starting to be more and more frequent.

“ Don't be so whiny, I'm calming you down! ” The girl teased, now having to keep him closer to not let him escape.

There's nothing he could do but giggle, trying to push his body away and failing miserably in the process. But it's not like he's actually trying.

“ Lehehet go of mehehe! ”

“ Mwah! ”

“ Dohon't 'm-mwah' me, yohou jerk! ”

Susie gave a brief pause on her little talk for the dramatic purposes, only to say it outloud again. “ Mmmwah! ”

His breathing hitched for a moment, finally managing to atleast turn his body towards her. It made it easier for him to push her ticklish kisses away, putting his hands on her mouth to get that pause he's been craving for (?) ever since she started.

“ Hehehe.. you suck... ”

Now that he's finally facing her, the smile glued on Roy's expression is way more visible. How did he expected her to let go or stop so quickly while looking like this? So adorable and, specially, happy? Yeah, definitely not happening.

“ Ooh, I do? ” Asked, her voice slightly muffled because of the palms covering her own mouth.

He smirked cockily. “ Y-Yeah, you d- EEK! ”

If the boy was planning to return to his previous state, he can already give up on it. A hand suddenly crawled to under his shirt, making him arch his back as the same mentioned spot now had Susie's fingers taking care of it.

“ Suhuhusie!! ”

“ You're too ungrateful. I help you, and then you say that I suck! You're an ass! ”

He tried to pay attention to her playful words, but her nails softly going up and down made it way more difficult than it should be. “ Shuhuhut up! ”

“ AND tells me to shut up! ”

“ You're sohoho lucky thahat you're my girlfriehehend, you fuhu- ” Any words afterwards just turned into a bunch of gibberish, covering his face as an awful attempt to hide.

It just made him notice how hot his own cheeks were getting, what not only didn't helped with the embarassment, but also worsened it.

“ Uh-huh... it's more like the opposite. You are lucky that you're my boyfriend. ”

“ And whahat being yohohour boyfriend hehehelps here?? ”

Susie's fake composture broke slightly, but she kept trying to look angry or unbothered. It's still pretty obvious what her true intentions are, but this is way funnier regardless.

“ I mean, if you weren't, I would've just done... this! ”

For demonstration, Susie's fingers suddenly jumped from his back to his ribs. It was more than enough to get him to absolutely lose it, laughing and wiggling his legs around as they sometimes kick the air out of instinct.

“ NOHOHO!! SUHUHUSIEEE! ”

“ See? Then I would be a bastard. ”

A few snorts began to escape Roy's lips. Should he be muffling his own laughter to not let it get too loud? Trying to stop her? Pushing her? Keeping her close? At the same time that he had a lot of options and thoughts, he also didn't had anything going on there. Just... tickles, and laughter. And Susie's face.

“ I GET IT, I GEHEHET IT! ”

“ And I would also say stuff like- ”

“ DOHON'T YOU DARE! ” Susie did nothing but giggle and keeping on.

“ Wow, you're so ticklish! Or: Wow, you can't even take a few kisses on your neck! ”

Gosh, it only worsened his situation. His face soon is turning crimson red, she can hear his stupid ass laugh loud and clear, and probably anyone close to the door could too. Roy just continued to hug himself, trying to lessen the sensations.

“ STOHOP TALKIHIHING! ”

“ Oor maybeeee... wow, how stupidly cute your laugh is right now! ”

Without even thinking, Roy covered his mouth, now being nothing but a bunch of muffled noises. This only turned into more fuel to Susie's teasing.

“ How red your face iiis... ”

And just like expected, Roy buried his hot face onto Susie's chest. Her fingers didn't got any slower, her body didn't got any more distant, the damn tickling didn't got any less effective.

And if you think that returning her fingers to his back would solve the last 'problem'... it didn't. He may be back to the giggling and weak kicks, but it still had the exact same impact.

“ I- hmphh- hehehehe- ”

Roy had to wait a little before finally speaking again, unable to not hold anything. He wanted to squirm, but it'd end up pushing her away. As a solution, he just grabbed the collar of his sweater and pulled it up, hiding most part his mouth still and with his grasp so tight that he already felt his own nails through the clothing.

“ I hate yohohou so damn much..! ”

Said the same boy who willingly stayed on her arms, not doing anything about it while his precious girlfriend continued to tickle and help her boyfriend in need.

[barclaysangel]

If Junior was at Lochmoor with Nica AU

Well well well…another Junior AU. I know, I have a problem. But watching Nurse Ratched gave me the idea of 10 year old Junior being at Lochmoor with Nica. Does it make sense logically? Most likely not. Did I write it in less than two days? …definitely.

This AU just wasn’t leaving my mind at all so I had to write it and here it is! It’s a bit long but I’m quite proud of how it turned out. I’m not sure if this is gonna be an actual fic, most likely not, but maybe I’ll write a series of oneshots for this AU. I do have a few ideas so if you guys like this, including on how to bring Andy in and how Junior and Nica get out of Lochmoor, so please let me know if that’s something y’all are interested in! I thrive off comments, they fuel my motivation!

Thank you and enjoy :)

Word count: 3K

Tags: @nicascurls @fairchilds-glasses @high-functioning-fang1rl @streets-in-paradise @zelinksupporter

Junior got used to the hospital. 

It was often cold and many of the patients there were scary, but he knew how to keep quiet and sit alone in a corner, drawing whatever came to mind to keep himself occupied until the next round of medicine and shocks. 

He didn’t know if he deserved all of that, deserved to be the only child in a big and terrifying hospital. But those patients committed crimes and he, in a way, did too. 

It just felt like Junior’s life fell apart. Maybe it always was falling apart. His dad was strict with him, forcing him into doing cross-country, forcing him to eat less, always forcing and controlling him. But his mom was there, trying to keep him safe the most she could. 

Then she died. And he was so painfully alone. Junior wishes he could remember what happened during the time of her death to ending up at the hospital, but it was like a blur. He remembered just bits and pieces of everything. 

The funeral, everyone dressed in black. 

His bedroom, perfect and clean before being destroyed and broken from a fit of rage that he didn’t remember. 

His trophies from cross-country shattered. 

The biggest trophy with specks of blood. 

Blood on the back and side of his father’s head. 

The doctors say that Junior had “psychosis”. That he was experiencing “manic and depressive episodes” despite his very young age, the tragic death of his mother triggering those “episodes”. 

His father said that he was a dangerous “psychopath” who tried to kill him. 

Junior hardly knew what any of those words meant. To him, it just meant that he was crazy and a monster who could hurt anyone at any given moment, so he had to be sent away. 

Sent away to Lochmoor at barely ten years old. 

It was hard at first. He hated the way the “vitamins” made him feel, not to mention the shocks they would put in his head. It would leave marks on his temples and make him feel overall terrible. The nurses had to put Junior on his side after each shock session since he would vomit in his sleep, he apparently almost choked to death before when he threw up while lying flat on his back after the very first time he got shocked. 

Some days he wished he did die, then he wouldn’t need to keep being in such a scary place. 

Then other days, it wasn’t too bad. He could be left somewhat alone, drawing with some paper and crayons they would allow him to have. Junior was never the best at drawing, all the art skills belonged to his cousin, Jake. But the more he drew, almost every single day, the better he started getting at it. 

I guess Jake was right. Practice does make perfect. Junior thought to himself and then got sad to remember that he wasn’t going to be able to tell Jake that and deal with his cousin annoying him about how he was right. 

He hardly spoke to anyone there, mainly only a couple of his doctors. They wanted to know what made him “snap”. He told them what he remembered, how controlling his father was and how he was even afraid of him. 

But Junior could tell that they didn’t believe him. That his father was a good and smart man, that he would never do those things or that his “mania and depression” misinterpreted the things his father did. 

Maybe they were right. His brain was sick after all, maybe his father wasn’t as bad as he thought he was. 

Junior didn’t know anything and for the next three months, he kept to himself. He minded his own business, drew whenever he could, took his vitamins, but still cried and tried to run whenever it was time for the shock sessions. Not to mention how he cries himself to sleep every single night, wishing he was dead and buried beside his mom, staying with her instead forever and ever. 

But this was his life now. At least until the doctors finally tell him he’s better. But he doesn’t know when that will ever happen. So for now, he stays still. 

Then a new patient arrived, a woman with dark curly hair in a wheelchair. Junior recognized a new face easily, growing more and more observant the longer he stayed in Lochmoor. It wasn’t anything too new for him, even when she stared at him like she was confused as to why he would be there. 

He got that look a lot, because of his age. He still feels like he should get some kind of award for being the youngest patient at Lochmoor. 

But she would always smile and wave at him, even at times where she looked afraid or upset. For the first few days, Junior didn’t return the smiles or waves. He would keep drawing and try to ignore her stares. But something about her felt warm and kind, a feeling he had forgotten about after so long of not feeling it. 

Eventually, he would wave back at her. And then, after nearly two weeks, he did something else. Junior got up, walked toward the woman, sat down on the floor near her wheelchair, and continued his drawing. He did all of this silently, not knowing what to say since he was so used to just not talking. 

It didn’t take long for her to take the initiative. 

“Hi.” The woman said, her voice gentle and light, as if she was being cautious. 

Junior didn’t say anything for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Hi.” 

“What’s your name?” She asked him next. 

The entire time, he was keeping his eyes on his drawing, grabbing a black crayon. “Junior.” 

“Nice to meet you, Junior. I’m Nica.” 

Junior finally looked at her, the corners of his lips turning upwards, the most he could smile nowadays. “Nice to meet you too, Nica.”

The woman–Nica–smiled at him, that sweet and soft smile he had seen her send to him before. The more he looked at her, the more he noticed the scar on her forehead, angry and red, but healing. He didn’t say anything though, he went back to coloring and figured he would be doing it in silence. 

“How old are you?” Nica asked after a few seconds, making Junior think for a moment. 

It was getting harder for him to remember the days and the months, sometimes it felt like his brain was getting fuzzy and foggy. 

“Ten. Ten in September. That was…last year, I think. I’ll be eleven this year.” He finally responded, adjusting his position so he was sitting in a more criss cross position. 

“You’re a child…” She said, sounding shocked and almost confused. Or horrified? He couldn’t quite tell. 

Junior looked at her and merely shrugged his shoulders. “I know. But I can handle it.” He said simply and began coloring in his drawing, scrunching his eyebrows together in concentration. 

“Can I ask what you’re drawing?” Normally, he would be annoyed that someone kept interrupting him. But she spoke lightly to him, so it didn’t make him as upset as he would usually get. 

Maybe the treatments were actually working afterall. 

“My mom.” Junior said softly, finishing off coloring her black hair before putting the crayon down and grabbing the magenta crayon. 

“She looks pretty.” Nica said, noticing her peering down to look at the drawing. It wasn’t perfect, far from it. Again, he wasn’t an artist. But he tried to draw her the most, almost everyday, so he wouldn’t forget what she looked like. 

“Yeah…yeah, she was…” He replied, his voice sad as he stared at the picture. Junior took a deep breath, not wanting to start crying in front of someone. He tried to think of his father’s words instead. 

Don’t be such a pussy, you’re a man! Act like it! It seemed to work for the time being, clearing his throat and began using the magenta crayon to color in his mom’s dress. 

Junior figures that Nica was going to ask him next what happened to his mom, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t say a word. Maybe she already knows somehow, just by that small bit of reaction that he had. 

Whatever it was, he was grateful that she didn’t say anything. 

He was quiet still, his movement slowing down before looking up at Nica. “Do you…wanna draw too?” 

She looked a little surprised at his request before smiling again, nodding. “I would like that, thanks.” 

Junior nodded and passed her one of his other pieces of paper and other crayons that he had. They spent the next few minutes doing that, silently drawing by one another’s side. It was kind of strange to Junior but not enough to make him want to leave. For some reason, it was almost…nice. Nice and comforting and peaceful. 

It was almost like he had a friend he’s known his whole life. 

“Your drawing is really good.” Junior said after a moment, looking up to see the different types of flowers she drew. 

“Thank you, I’ve had years of practice.” Nica said with a smile as Junior began drawing a sun in the corner of his paper. 

He drew suns a lot since it feels like it’s been years since he got to feel the sun hitting his face. 

“Junior…can I ask you something?” She asked him hesitantly. 

“Mhm.” He mumbled simply, already suspecting what she was planning to ask him, the same as some of the other patients. 

“Why are you here? You don’t seem dangerous at all to need maximum security. You’re just a kid.” 

And because Junior expected the question, he answered as honestly as he would with the others. 

“Because I tried to kill my father.” 

The silence was loud enough to hear a pin drop. But since Nica wasn’t leaving him yet, Junior decided to continue. 

“That’s what they said I did. I don’t remember. Something about a ‘psychotic breakdown’. Whatever that means. I think it’s just a fancy way of saying I went crazy after mom died from cancer and tried to kill my father but he was able to stop me. I didn’t mean to try and kill him. I think I just wanted him to stop controlling me. I wanted to be free. But now I’m here for…I don’t know how long. It’s been some months now. I guess we’ll see.”

Now this is the part where Nica leaves. Where she’ll come up with some excuse and then never get next to him or talk to him ever again. Because who would trust a kid who tried to murder their own father? No one, that’s who. And she was going to be one of them. 

But almost a full minute had passed and Nica was still there. Maybe she was waiting for him to leave? That must be why, so Junior started gathering the rest of his crayons so he could get up and move away from her. 

“I don’t think you’re crazy.” Nica suddenly said, making him stop and pause, looking at her in confusion. 

“...what?” 

“You’re not crazy. You’re just a little boy who lost his mother. Took out his pain on his father. Did you get help after your mom died? Before you ended up here?” She asked him and Junior shook his head. “You should’ve gotten help. If your father cared, he would’ve done that. You don’t deserve to be here.” 

Yes I do. I’m a psychopath. He wanted to say but decided not to. 

He didn’t know why. Maybe deep down, he didn’t believe he was that crazy. That he was dangerous and wanted to hurt people. He didn’t know and would probably never find out anyway. 

“Why are you here then?” Junior decided to ask her this time. “You seem nice. I don’t know why you would end up being here.” 

Nica looked sad for a moment, looking away as she fidgeted with her sleeves before looking back at him. “They said that I killed my family. But I didn’t. It wasn’t me, I swear.”

Junior looked at her, trying to read her. She seemed to believe it, and seemed saddened by whatever happened to her family. She seemed to be convinced that she really didn’t do it. 

Or maybe Nica was crazy. But so was Junior, so he didn’t care either way. 

And if she decided to snap and kill him? Then he would just end up with his mother, something he’s been wanting anyway, so he didn’t care. 

“I believe you.” Junior said simply, putting down the rest of his crayons down and settling back into his original position. 

Nica looked a little surprised but almost relieved. “You do?”

He smiled just a tiny bit and nodded. “Uh huh. I do. You don’t seem mean enough to do something like that. So…do you pinkie promise that you didn’t do it?” He asked, holding up his pinkie to her. 

She smiled kindly at him, nodding before holding up her own pinkie and wrapping it around his. “I promise.” 

Junior started to relax, genuinely trusting her, but he was pulled out of his thoughts by one of the orderlies. “Wheeler. Come on, it’s time for your treatment.”

His eyes widened, knowing what the treatments actually meant. 

Shocks. 

It was time for him to get shocked. 

Junior whimpered quietly and started to slowly move away. “Please, please, I-I’ve been good! I’ve been good, I don’t wanna be shocked, please…” But the orderlies started to move closer so he put his cross-country skills to use. 

He sprung up and bolted. 

He knew it was futile but he had to try, screaming loudly when he felt one of the orderlies grab him before Junior was able to get out of the room, now scratching and biting at the orderly wherever he could. Through his screaming, he could vaguely hear Nica’s voice, telling them to stop and to not hurt him, but Junior knew how they were. They weren’t going to stop. Not until there was a needle in his arm and his body started to shut down. He tried to hold on, tried so hard, but he knew it was better to be asleep than awake when he was shocked. And his world went black. 

Unfortunately, just because he was asleep, doesn't mean he couldn’t feel anything. He felt each painful shock, making his entire body jolt, even sometimes waking him up midway only to be put back to sleep after he started screaming. 

Please, make it stop. Please, please, please, I can’t take this anymore. It hurts too much, I don’t want to keep feeling this! Just kill me! Kill me! Please, please, please, please, ple–

Junior doesn’t know when it stopped. He doesn’t remember much after that. He remembered throwing up when he was back in his bed before falling back asleep, his arms and legs still twitching and jolting. It felt like he was fading away, slipping in and out, in and out, in and…

Junior didn’t know what time it was, but it had to have been getting late. 

He needed to get up and go for a run. 

Try to see if he could run an extra mile. 

That would make his dad happy. 

Yes, he would be happy. 

And then maybe he could eat a little more for breakfast if his dad was happy. 

It’s a good idea. 

He just needed to get up right now. 

“Junior?”

What was that?

It was probably nothing, just his imagination again. 

“Junior, can you hear me?” 

Wait, there it was again. 

The voice was soft and warm, so warm…it sounded like mom’s…

“Come on, baby, I need you to wake up. You need to snap out of it, okay?”

Snap out of it? Snap out of what?

The voice did sound like mom’s but it was different. 

But still familiar. 

She sounded like…

“Junior? Honey?”

Junior woke up. 

He blinked a few times, realizing that he wasn’t in his room, back at his father’s house. There were gray walls all around him and a certain chill to it, something that always frightened him. He was at Lochmoor. He’s always been in Lochmoor. Sitting in the very corner of the main room, his knees pulled into his chest. 

How did he get there? 

Did they put him there or did he walk there on his own?

He couldn’t even remember. 

But he did recognize the woman’s voice, it was–

“Ni…ca…” Junior spoke slowly, struggling to find his voice, his words. 

Right. He got the shocks. He remembered now. That’s why his brain was fuzzy and in pain, his insides still twisting and churning. 

This was where he was now. 

“Oh, honey, what did they do to you…?” Nica murmured to herself, but he knew that she knew the answer. He realized that her hands were on his cheeks, gentle and light, looking at the side of his head. 

He had burn marks again, that much he knew. He had seen them before, the small burns and discoloration on his temples. They would go away in a few days, but he hated just knowing they were there. 

“Hurts…it hurts…” Junior managed to mumble out and one of Nica’s hands went through his hair, soothing back the dark strands so gently. 

“I know, baby, I know. Just take some deep breaths, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” She told him softly and he started to tear up. 

Normally he could try to stop it, but he couldn’t now. He accepted defeat, accepted the pain he was in, but leaned forward and pressed his cheek against her knee while clinging onto her leg. 

Nica didn’t move him, continuing to stroke his hair in light and soothing notions, whispering to him but Junior didn’t know what she was saying. It didn’t matter though because despite the pain, he realized something. 

He wasn’t alone. 

For the first time in so long, he wasn’t alone. 

Junior finally had a friend and maybe he was going to be okay.

[0-amateur-writer-0]

With Gratitude

Characters: Stan Pines, Ford Pines.

Tags: Post-finale, Hurt-Comfort, Mostly Fluff

Wordcount: 823

Summary:

“Do ya still want me around if I didn’t save the world. If I wasn’t--…y’know, a hero?”

#

“Do ya still want me around if I didn’t save the world. If I wasn’t--…y’know, a hero?”

Ford looks up from where he was tending to Stan’s arm. Stan was looking down at his bandaged arm, though it was clear that his mind was someplace far away.

So, it was one of those days.

He had picked up the signs quickly enough. This happens whenever a recently recounted memory was deeply affecting his brother. It’s a bad one. The bad memories always illicit this sort of reaction. Though, previous incidents weren’t quite this bad.

Ford gently, yet firmly tightens the bandages on Stan’s arm. Closely inspecting his handiwork once more, before finally allowing Stan to tuck his injured arm closer to himself.

Ford chuckles. “I think that’s where you’re mistaken; you were always a hero, Stan.”

The look Stan threw him in return, were equal parts skeptical as it was confused. By all means, what he just said probably came off as absurd; calling his brother who lies and cheats as constantly as he breathes. Who has a criminal record a mile long—a hero, will no doubt come off as such.

But it doesn’t make it any less true.

“Always?” Stan questioned.

“At least to me.” Ford adds with a lopsided smile. “Remember how you gave me your glasses when those mean kids from the playground broke mine?”

Stan stares at him in confusion over the sudden change of topic, before nodding carefully; letting himself be led along the conversation.

“Once we got home, Dad yelled at you for 10 straight minutes; even grounded you for a whole month because of it. But you never told him what really happened. Or how about that time--…er, I suppose the several times you punched Crampelter in the face for calling me a freak. Or all the other times you—"

“I remember; why’d ya ask?” Stan’ eyes are getting more, and more focused now. The fog was lifting, and his brother was slowly coming back to himself.

Ford smiles sadly. “I seemed to have forgotten all that. I was only reminded of all those things you did for me, because of…recent events.” His smile drops. “…I should be the one asking you that: why do you still want me around after everything I’ve done?”

Stan opens his mouth to answer, but Ford shook his head. “It was rhetorical; I know why.”

“And to answer your question: you were a hero even before you went ahead and saved the world. And I couldn’t think of anyone I’d be lucky enough to get to spend my time with.” A pause. “Well, apart from the children, our friends, and our immediate family but…you know.”

“I ought to say this more often, but…thank you; for having been there when nobody else was.”

…

Thank you.

Stan blinks. Out of all the recent changes that happened in his life, this is definitely one he still wasn’t used to. It still somehow felt weird to hear Ford say that; maybe it’s due to how hard he had to work just to get one in the first place. But now, Ford just…kept giving it away to him so freely. Things that don’t require thanks, and even the smallest gestures that should’ve been paid no mind, were met with an almost unreasonable amount of gratitude.

Thank you for making breakfast.

Thank you for playing D, D, and more D with me.

And then,

Thank you for remembering.

Thank you for being here…

The last one really threw him for a loop. Because where else would he be besides here: on the Stan O’ War, sailing around the world on the adventure of a lifetime? It was just unnecessary, especially at the rate of which Ford’s doing it. Often times, they would be doing something mundane like fishing, or cleaning when Ford would all of a sudden turn to him, and then thank him for…simply existing it seems.

A sap, that’s what his brother is. He’d made it a point to say so whenever Ford gets like this. This time was no exception; because Ford really just dropped a whole speech on him about how he was totally his hero this entire time. Sure, like he’s supposed to believe that.

It was a good speech at least.

He was about to call Ford out on his sap-like behavior yet again, but then he stops. Ford was looking at him, not only that, Ford was looking at him the same way he often does whenever he looks at the kids—warm eyes, and tender smiles.

Stan absentmindedly rubs his bandaged arm. “…Anytime, Sixer.”

Looks like Ford’s not the only sap in this damn boat.

…

"Stanley Pines was the man who saved the world, not me. ... If I'm totally honest, I must admit that he's a hero and I'm...a hero's brother. And I'm OK with that."

--From the Journal of Stanford Pines.

[kjs-s]

A party we will always remember

Pairing: Yelena Belova x reader

Summary: Yelena meets the reader at Clint’s daughter’s birthday party

 Word Count: 1422

Warnings: none I can think of

Prompts: “My friend thinks you’re cute.”

“I used to babysit his kids.”

A/N This is my first entry for @caplanbuckybarnes's  foreverwriting challenge.

Normally you would loathe being invited to a birthday party in the middle of the day. Especially on a Saturday in April considering everyone there would stay for a long time. However, you couldn't say no to neither Lila nor Clint. She had made you a thoughtful and sweet hand-written paper invitation and they had delivered it themselves to Lila’s ''favorite neighbor and babysitter''. You live just a five-minute walk from their farm and you used to spend a lot of time in the Barton household when the kids were younger. They adored you and considered you a part of the family. Those were the reasons you found yourself walking towards their house holding three bags. You wanted to give gifts to all the kids to make them happy.

Upon arriving at the farm you noticed Laura had gone all out with the decorations and activities. She had set up a table where the kids could make crafts to take home with them after the party; she organized a place where anyone could play card games and a little treasure hunt for when most people would have arrived.

''(Y/N) you made it. ''Nathaniel ran over to you and almost knocked you over making you protect the gifts from falling down.

''Of course, I made it cookie monster.'' You laughed at his expression when he remembered the reason you had given him that nickname. Laura had barred him from the kitchen for two weeks following that disaster.

''I wouldn't miss Lila's birthday, nor the chance to see you all again. Your dad promised me I can team up with him for the treasure hunt.'' He seemed upset by it so you immediately came up with something to cheer him up ''But I prefer you as a partner, clearly. We will decide on that later. Why don't you show me where to put these?'' You raised the bag towards him.

He took you to the kitchen where Laura and Lila were still making some sweets and you put the gifts on a table.

''Hi everyone, the two small ones are for the boys. I had put cards on them. What can I do to help here?'' The two women greeted you.

''Come here to help me. I am just putting sprinkles on those.'' Lila showed you the chocolate pops she had made. You gave her a hug and helped her with everything she needed.

After everything was set Clint came over with two young girls in tow. Both of them were gorgeous, the brunette was smiling at you and the blonde seemed like she was studying you. Clint thanked you for your help and introduced you to Kate and Yelena. Kate was friendly to you but Yelena remained a little cold towards you. You hoped she was just like that to all new people and not just to you. Despite that, you planned to try talking to her later on.

After a while, you were catching up with Lila on a TV show you were both watching when Kate interrupted you.

'''So (Y/N) it was nice to finally meet you. Clint has told me a lot of things about you.''

''Same here, I loved the story of how you adopted the adorable dog I saw earlier. Is it ok if I go and pet him and the other one afterward?'' You wanted to ask permission from the moment you spotted them in the backyard.

''Of course, the girl who is keeping an eye on them wouldn't mind. Mine is Lucky and the other is Fanny. She's my friend's who by the way is the reason I'm here right now. She thinks you're cute and hopes you like girls. Your face turned hot with embarrassment and you looked over at her.

''Then maybe I should go and talk to her. I will take her a drink. Does she prefer orange or cranberry?'' You looked around the makeshift bar for two glasses to put juice in.

''Either is fine. Go ahead.'' You took a while to decide while trying to make yourself less nervous about striking up a conversation with someone as pretty as Yelena.

''Hi, I'm (Y/N), Clint introduced us earlier. You're Yelena right?'' You put down both drinks in front of her so she would pick the one she wanted.

''Yes, that's right. One of those for me?'' She pointed to the glasses.

''Take which one you want. So how do you know Clint?''

She thought for a second before replying.

''Through my sister. What about you?''

''I used to babysit his kids. I live close by so they were over every time Laura needed some help...Wait, your sister? You are Natasha's sister?''

''I am. Did you know her?'' She felt a little sad talking about Natasha with someone she just met but she managed to hide it from you.

''I met her the first time when the whole team was here. And then a few more times after that. She was always lovely to me. You must be proud of her for saving the world.''

''She did and I am. Thank you for saying that.'' She drank from the orange juice you had brought over.

 ''Sorry for ruining your mood. That wasn't a good conversation topic for the first time talking to someone.

''It's fine. I didn't mind it. So you mentioned living close. Do you by any chance mean the little house I drove by with the swings and the tree house up front?''

''Exactly, the one west from here.'' You pointed the wrong way. That made Yelena smile but she didn't correct you about your house actually being in the east.

''It came with those so I left them there for Lila and Cooper when they were over. And for myself when I need to clear my head.''

''It's a cute house. It reminds me of the first house I lived in, in Ohio. I used to have a swing just like that one.''

''I always wanted one as a kid but we lived in a house with no yard. So now, I am using it to remind me of one of my childhood dreams.''

''I like that. Maybe I will use it too next time I visit. If you let me that is. ''Yelena smiled at you and realized that she probably never felt more anxious than when she asked permission for something.

''Any time you want to.'' You tried to think of something else to say but thankfully you were interrupted by Lila announcing the start of the treasure hunt. You suggested teaming up with Yelena and you went to Lila to receive the first clue.

Teaming up with a black widow was the right decision because you managed to find the hidden box with party favors in no time. You and Yelena took some of the candy and gave the rest away to some of the kids.

''Why don't we walk around for a little while we wait for Lila to blow out her candles?'' Yelena suggested but you had a better idea.

''We can go and play with the dogs instead. Kate already gave me permission to play with Lucky.''

''I would love that. Let's go.''

You two spent almost half an hour with the dogs before Kate called you over to attend the cake-cutting. And after having your pieces of the cake you went back to playing. When you noticed everyone else had left you sadly started saying goodbye to Yelena.

You exchanged numbers and promised to stay in touch.

You told your goodbyes to the family and thanked them for the invite. Yelena then insisted on driving you home to not let you walk back so late at night and to spend some more time with you.

''Thank you for driving me. I had a great time today.''

''So did I. I'm glad Kate made me come along with her. But don't let her know that.''

''I have a feeling she can already tell. But don't worry, your secret is safe with me.''

''I appreciate that.'' She smiled and put her hand on your arm. You both felt your hearts racing knowing that you would see each other again soon. Neither wanted to be more forward just yet. She gave you a quick hug and left after promising to call you to arrange a date.

You stayed in front of your house for a while after she drove away trying to contemplate meeting someone that amazing and imagining what your first date would be like.

[billthedrake]

DYNASTY

This story was inspired by A4F Tales' (@talesfromunderthemattress ) story Parental Unit. Consider this an unofficial sequel of sorts.

Kevin was driving. He almost always insisted on driving if it was the both of us. Now as I looked over at my older brother, I was glad he was behind the wheel since it gave me a chance to scope him out. Even now, after 8 years of being married, at least in our minds, I never got sick of looking at him. His hairline was receding but if anything that made his solid coach bod even better looking, kind of the best of both worlds, being a 31 year old dude starting to rock the daddy look a little.

"You think Dad hit the bars tonight?" I asked. Still feeling the glow of date night and the buzz of the extra glass of wine I had because I wasn't driving.

Kevin's normally serious expression turned into a slight laugh of a grin. "Probably bro. You know how he's alwasy going on about not getting enough pussy."

I chuckled and puffed out my chest like Dad as I imitated him. "What you boys have going on is great and all... but I'm 50/50, you know," I said in my best Craig Stansell baritone.

Kevin laughed. "Whatever it takes, babe," he said, looking away from the road quickly to flash me a grin. "Besides, the old man's almost 60. Let him have his pride."

"58 and a very fine 58," I chimed in. "You think we ever push him too much?"

My husband seemed to think that over a second. "Not really, no. If anything, maybe not enough." He patted my thigh. "If he found another woman, you know, settled down again... would you be upset, Kyle?"

I didn't have to think of my answer. "Selfishly, yes. But I want him to be happy bro, you know that."

"I do too, of course," Kevin continued, thinking out loud as he turned into our subdivision, where we'd been shacking up as brothers ever since I moved down to Florida to work under him in the college football program he coached. "I just think, you know, he's kind of what makes our relationship work so well."

I'd thought of that too. Kevin and I had both given up our asses to each other, many times, and would gladly continue to do so. But we both preferred topping and all around loved the rush of fucking a man. "We'd make it work regardless, Kevin," I objected. "But I know what you mean."

He nodded and held up his left hand after he turned toward our street. "It was fun wearing our bands when we go out."

"Fun's an understatement," I growled softly. It had been a nice romantic evening, but my big brother was gonna get me hard, fast. "Wish we could do it more."

"It's risky," Kevin said, lust in his voice. "But we'll have to find a way."

The Florida air was warm and muggy. That's the one thing I'd never get used to, but beyond that this was paradise. Maybe because it's a place Dad could take an early retirement to and not bat an eye, living in an in-law addition behind our place.

"Hey guys," our father said, peeling his eyes off a Ravens-Steelers game on TV. Ever since coaching college ball, Kev and I relished our Sunday days off, and had grown less interested in following the NFL religiously. But Dad was still sports obsessed and maybe missed his own coaching days, more than a little. "How was date night?"

Kevin casually patted Dad's meaty shoulder through the man's T-shirt. It still blew my mind how casually our father had sussed out me and Kevin's sexual relationship, early on and how he not only didn't seem to mind but actually covered for us. Only later did I discover he'd fooled around with our Uncle Rick growing up.

"Great," my older brother said, looking over at me with a wink. "Nice to have some one-on-one time with my special man."

Dad grumbled. "You boys should take your special time any goddamn time you want. Forget I'm here if you have to. You guys are married, and just because you asked me..."

"All right, Dad," Kevin laughed, holding up his hands like he was 17 and being delivered another lecture. "Me and me husband are gonna go to our bedroom and have hot date night sex, OK?"

Dad got a big grin on his gruffly handsome mug. Unlike Kevin he still had his full head of hair though it was almost entirely gray now and maybe not as thick as it once was. "That's more like it."

Kevin patted his shoulder and turned to walk back to our room. I knew he was horny from our conversation, and since yesterday was game day and as usual we didn't usually get around to sex, my brother was undoubtedly feeling as backed up as I was. "Good night, Dad," he said.

"Good night," I said to my father, only leaning in for a quick peck of a kiss. On the lips. "You OK on your own tonight, Dad?" I asked.

"Son... if you don't get back there quick, your brother's gonna have some major blue balls," he joked.

I about asked about his blue balls, but instead just took the hint. "All right, Dad. Have a good one."

Kevin was already naked when I got to the master bedroom. I liked stripping for him as he watched and stroked his fat brother bone. "Jack is doing a great job with you," he said, referring to the strength and conditioning coach for the team. Even if I wasn't a player, I took advantage of the man's expertise and encouragement. While Kevin had a naturally medium-build coach bod, I was getting more jacked, almost like a tight end. The more I did, the more my husband loved it.

"Remind me to thank him," I grinned, stepping forward naked to the bed.

We were both horny but we also loved the physicality of making out before swapping blow jobs.

I took my big brother's dick into my mouth, slowly working him up. "Damn, suck me KS," he urged, using my initials as a pet name ever since we first fooled around, back in the day. "Suck your big brother." Those words never failed to turn me on. I blew him with longer deeper mouth strokes, using my hands to feel his hairy balls and hold his prick. Kevin was in shape, but that coach-bod padding felt real nice and softly furred against my forehead as I managed a deep throat.

"FUCK!" my husband grunted, holding me down playfully on to his hairier crotch. "You're too good to me, man." He let up on his grip and I started bobbing again, trying to work him to a good, heavy cum.

Only as Kev was getting too close, he pulled me off, gently pushing my head back once his thick prick cleared my wet lips. "Let me return the favor, bro."

I nodded and I knelt on the bed, letting my older brother lean forward and start licking me. "God, I love date night," he hissed before he bagan taking me into his mouth."

It was hot, very hot, watching my successful head coach of a brother go down on me, his masculine face getting an intent look as he did his best to blow me. It had taken a few years actually to convince my cocky brother to actually go down on me. Now, he took oral service as a serious job, as much dedicated work as studying game tape. You'd think that approach would be a turn off, but instead it drove me wild to see Kevin treat my pleasure like his biggest mission in life.

I could have let him get me off, but something was on my mind.

"Think we should invite Dad back, bro?"

I thought Kevin might be pissed off or at least bark his usual reminder that it was date night. Instead he pulled off my hard dick and slurped back the excess spit before he nodded, "Go get him."

I leapt up like an excited puppy and strutted into the living room, naked and hard. Dad was still watching the game, and I startled him when I put both hands on his shoulders and gave a gentle squeeze. "Feel like joining us?" I asked simply.

He looked up and his eyes went wide when he realized my nakedness. Kevin wasn't the only one into my new jacked-up body. "Don't want to spoil your date night, Kyle," he said softly.

"When did you ever spoil anything, Dad?" I asked. "But it's up to you. We'd love to have you with us tonight."

He nodded, and god I could tell he was horny for it. "If you're sure."

"Sure I'm sure," I said. I gave a reminder. "But it's the master bedroom."

We had a ritual about this. Turns out Dad was on board, as always. "I want that," he said quietly but confidently.

I appeared first, and Kevin was already lubing up his cock, confident Dad would come in too.

"Hey Dad."

It wasn't Kevin who said that but our father, who was stepping out from behind me and peeling off his T-shirt. His 58 year old frame had always been muscular, an ex-jock's build, but since moving to join us in Florida, he'd kept at the weights hard to stay solid. He was very much a silver muscle daddy, tanned and buff, though with the telltale roughness in his skin from a man that age.

"Pop says you guys want me to join you," our father added, getting into the psychodrama we'd honed over the years. One that played out not every night but at least once a week.

"Come on, son," Kevin said, patting the mattress and scooting to make a spare spot. "We love having you in our bed."

Dad never played favorites, but when we did role reversal like this, Kevin was Dad and I was Pop and that just intensified the bond he had with his eldest. I watched as Dad scooted next to my brother-husband, letting Kevin take the lead to claim a kiss as Dad's furry muscle daddy body almost arched like a cat in Kevin's greedy embrace.

I never got sick of watching those two men kiss. It was romantic and sexual at the same time, in equal parts.

It turned me on to see how much our father loved it. His old man had been a legendary football coach, and after a number of threesomes Kevin and I sussed out that Dad had some giant-sized Daddy Issues of his own. A little role play and pushing the envelope and we settled in on this.

Dad was our son only when joining us in the master bedroom, but we embraced it so heavily that for that time it felt real to us. Real to Kevin, real to me, and real to our dad.

For his part, Kevin outright loved playing Dad to our father. As hot as the sex was between me and my brother, this brought out his more assertive side.

Already he was making his way down Dad's silver-furred body, kissing down that mature muscle and nudging our father's legs up and back. Dad complied. "Oh yes, Dad," he hissed. "Eat out my son hole."

He got into it, into that intimate connection between my brother's tongue and his sphincter, gently loosened from Kev's and my regular fucks. "God, Pop, I love you guys," he hissed as I lay next to him. And like that, me and my father were kissing. Deep, tongues battling, sucking the air from one another.

We got lost in that incest kiss. Me being daddy for my father and both of us loving that head-fuck. Either we made out longer than I expected, or Kevin was real impatient that night. Before I knew it, Dad pulled back and turned to look at Kevin who was holding our father's legs and entering him with that heavy brother cock of his.

"God, yeah," Dad said. "Dick me, Dad. I need it so bad, sir."

The S word was like poppers to Kevin. He growled and plowed right in. The first time he'd taken Dad like that I was pissed off and a little worried. But turns out Dad loved it. Even if that ex-NFL-er cock softened at the rough intrusion, Dad was always back to full hardness quickly.

That's how it played out now. I watched excitedly as the dick that made me steadily got its lead hardness again. I slicked my father's prick up with lube and slowly stroked while Kevin pounded him with harder faster stokes.

"Fuck, son," my coach brother hissed, throwing that beefy body into an athletic performance. Even if I preferred to top more than bottom these days, just watching my husband in rut made my vers side rare up and crave Kevin inside me. We'd have to see how long I'd go before making that a reality.

"Fuck me Dad!" our father bellowed, getting real into it, his hips bucking a little to work his cock in my lubed fist and to meet the fantasy patriarch's thrusts. "Use my hole, sir."

Kevin's face scrunched up and I knew immediately he was coming. One of those sudden, no warning orgasm. His normally confident voice became a succession of whimpers as he ejaculated deep and heavy inside our father.

"Hell yes," our dad his, excited to be bred.

I was horny as hell now. Impatiently, I got up and practically pushed Kevin out of the way. "Fuck 'im babe," he growled, placing his meaty paw on my strong shoulder. I looked down and saw his amazing prick wet with fresh cum. The view of Dad's asshole was better. Legs spread wide, our father showed off the now fucked-open hole and the incestuous creampie oozing out.

I'd never done this before, though it had been on my mind. At that moment, horniness overcame any hesitation I had. I leaned down and started licking Dad's pucker.

"Oh SHIT, Bro!" Kevin exclaimed. I didn't have to see to know my brother's softening prick surged right back into a hard watching me felch on his load. It was evident in my brother's voice.

Dad actually chuckled at how nasty I was being. But didn't care. I licked deeper now, rooting for a stronger taste of Kev's cum. I figured if I was gonna have my first felch experience, I'd go all the way.

Dad helped me out, by pushing out a good bit of Kevin's load. That familiar brother-husband flavor filled my mouth, and it drove me wild to realize just how much he'd cum.

"Oh fuck!" I growled as I pulled back, my throat half clogged with that assload. I rushed as I got into the saddle. I hoped to god Kev's fuck was foreplay enough for Dad, because I was coming in. My entry was rougher and more sudden than Kevin's had been.

"Yeah, Pop," Dad hissed. No softening cock this time, my father's meat twitched in its hardness as I boned him.

The dad-son mating was fevered. Dad clenching at my body and me doing my best Kevin Stansell topping imitation. As I fucked Dad and as Dad called me Pop with every other stroke, I imagined doing this to my father over the years, as the man entered his 60s, and even his 70s...

The idea almost tripped my trigger but I held off so Dad could cum. I didn't want to leave the old man high and dry. So I slowed my strokes and tried to work his butt nut. "Yes," he hissed, getting into the new rhythm. It wasn't a Kevin imitation, but a Kyle Stansell fuck.

My brother had actually gone to piss, like he always does after a good fuck. I guess I'd forgotten about him, because I was surprised to feel his hands on my mind and his kiss along my neck. "You're beautiful to watch Babe," he whispered. Instinctively I leaned back into that kiss and embrace, even as I had to slow my fuck down to a slow hump.

It took me a second to register how greasy Kevin's lubed cock was and how adeptly it was rooting in between my tight-end-worthy ass cheeks. "Whaddya say, bro?" he grunted, licking and nibbling at my ear lobe.

I wanted it. God, I wanted. "Yeah," I replied, and all of a sudden I was the center of attention. Dad's eyes on me, hungry but amused at watching me take my brother's cock. Kevin feeling me up to coax me to relax.

My man knew he had to take his time. And it had been a solid four months since he'd fucked me. I was tight as fuck.

But something about that situation was opening me up. Slowly, then more steadily I felt Kevin's thick tool plowing in. Challenging me to accept all of him.

"He's big isn't he, Pop?" Dad asked.

I looked down in my father's brown eyes. "Feels even bigger going in," I answered.

"It's gonna make you feel amazing, Pop," Dad said with sincerity. "Always does."

Kevin loved being talked up like that, and he now thrust more excitedly into me. It was intense but in a good way. Particularly once Dad's ass started clenching down on my own cock, buried deep inside him. My father was stroking his meat once more and sending shock waves to my bone in the process.

I wouldn't saw we had a practiced rhythm doing a fuck sandwich, but we alternated between Kevin driving things and me being the one to move my hips between these two men.

Dad came first. The excitement of watching his two sons fuck combined with the stimulation in his ass.

"Fuck son!" Kevin exclaimed, watching over my shoulder as heavy spurts of semen spurted from our father's reddened cock. "Give it up, stud."

Just hearing those role play words in my ear got me off. I grunted in orgasm, wordlessly but my body tensing and revealing that I'd crossed the line in a major way.

Kevin's hips were now bucking faster, almost frantic in the guy's realization he had a brief window to get off in me before I lost the sex-fueled openness in my ass.

He made it, barely. My brother-husband's strong hands gripped my waist as he powered his second cum of the night inside me. Making up for no-sex Game Day. I accepted his seed, proud that I'd done this, put out for my man.

My brother gave a soft kiss to the back of my neck and slowly pulled out.

This was always the hardest part of the role play. Not going back to our real-life family roles. But we'd learned to keep it going. Wordlessly, we showered off, first me and Dad in the shower, before I stepped out and let Kevin join him.

"You going to sleep with us tonight, Son?" I asked as I toweled off and watched them rinse under the spray.

Dad looked over at Kevin, maybe expectantly but mostly trying to read his reaction. Kev patted Dad's ass. "Up you, son, but your dads would love to have you join us."

It was wild to see the mature man, a pro-ball veteran and a coaching legend in his own right, act like a deferential college kid with us. He smiled and his dick chubbed out a little as he nodded.

I thought I was spent, but my own prick firmed up at the sight. All the way to full erection. Kevin laughed. He'd cum twice and his beautifully thick prick hung soft, water dripping off.

"Gotta warn ya, Son," my brother said. "Us coaches can be real horny bastards sometimes."

Dad chuckled and I watched as he slipped out of Kevin's embrace and dripping wet, stepped onto the bath mat before crouching in front of me in that classic blow job kneeling position.

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Dad.... Pop..." Then looking up at me he took my son-prick into my mouth.

[pluckysidekick]

We’re heading into the home stretch! Good news - we’re getting a 20 second trailer for the finale! Thank you to the CW18 Milwaukee for promoting Nancy Drew while corporate was busy cancelling failed imports and promoting golf.

Now, I know some folks have been spoiled *ahem* by the leaked transcript for 412. I have not and will not be partaking - I like my spoilers vague, and I prefer to watch the episode in whole with actors and sets and special effects and music and all the things. But I did spend some time this weekend thinking about what would happen next - and debating it with @likestosolvethepuzzle (whose latest fic you must read), who encouraged me to post this analysis that I primarily wrote over weekend before the transcript leaked.

So read on if you’re interested in my unspoiled take (well except for the usual BTS photos I’ve hoarded from filming, the trailers, and hints on social media from the fine professionals who made the show).

Rewinding back to Episode 8, Nancy sends Ace on his way with the curse jar to go fishing with his father. He complains, but she tells him to go make “messy” memories with Thom (clearly she’s thinking of how she wished she could have more with Kate). Thom apologizes that the captain canceled, Ace drops the jar which lights up and sets off a little wave, and they get wet but no other harm is done. Ace calls Nancy from the Marina - note the establishing shot is Horseshoe Bay, not the Yacht Club or the Claw, so he’s sitting in the parking lot of a different marina, presumably where the fishing boat is docked.

Ace and Nancy have their phone call, and we now know Nancy goes to erase a sin 26 minutes later. The only think she knows is that she saw flames before Ryan rescued her from Jonas Glass, but she believes she and Ace were responsible for Jane Doe’s death.

A few other tidbits that could be clues or red herrings - when Jane Doe was found charred beyond recognition, it was noted that it was in the woods near the coastline. When the ghost tells Ace that she stayed because he said he didn’t want to leave her, she then says no one had ever talked to her or about her that way before. The ghost is also insistent that no one ask her how she died.

OK. A few weird things. The captain canceling but Ace and Thom still going ahead is weird. Why would the captain allow it? Who’s piloting that sort of large-ish boat? And why did the jar make any kind of blip at all, and yet the wave was small enough they only got wet?

We have BTS of what appears to be Thom in the water:

And we had a video from applebanannapear (Ace’s stand-in) of a marina/boat yard with Florence parked nearby, and he’s standing next to someone who looks like she could be Nancy’s stand-in:

These to me look like scenes of the forgotten events of that night, erased by the Sin Eater.

So what I think could have gone down (speculation ahead):

What if the captain of the fishing boat didn’t cancel and was on the boat with Ace and Thom? And Jane Doe could be the captain? She could be lonely and even flirted with Ace, who we know is also lonely - they may even have a moment.

When Ace drops the curse jar, it actually flames up and breaks, and causes a much bigger commotion - maybe even a whirlpool not unlike the ghost’s whirlwind from 411. Then the boat catches on fire. They all jump or are thrown into the water. Ace is able to fish Thom out, but the captain is lost - she gets caught in the flames before drowning.

Ace and Thom eventually make it back to shore. Ace calls Nancy in a panic. She comes immediately. They fight, but Nancy insists on going to the Black Door. Ace may have dropped the curse jar, but Nancy gave it to him and pushed him to go fishing with his dad. The death was accidental but Ace feels guilty - he’s completely torn up with grief. This is the person who would rather die than let Nancy give Daniel West the list.

Thom’s part - I am less certain (and of course all of this is speculation). He’s a semi-retired cop, so he’d want to call it in. Ace would probably be charged with setting the boat on fire - he did drop the jar that caused the boat to catch on fire. Thom might have even fought with him about the jar when he finds out what Ace is doing, causing it to break.

Nancy takes matters into her own hands and goes to the Black Door - she loves Ace, and feels responsible- she won’t let him suffer. She’s miserable, doing something she never thought she’d do - but she does it for Ace. They may even have an angry almost love confession - but it falls short of triggering the curse, because the Sin Eater only erases the memories of everyone involved. It doesn’t negate the sin itself, and Ace is still alive.

And why is the ghost drawn to Ace? They actually made a connection before she died, and her charred body washed up on shore near the woods. He may have made her feel safe on that boat before the accident. He may have “caught” the curse (as many have theorized), and that’s why he can hear and see and even touch her. And her claim of her hair wrapping around her mouth, feeling cold, and the sky disappearing are consistent with burning and then drowning. And she doesn’t want Ace or Nancy to ask her how she died because it’s too painful, and perhaps because she doesn’t want Ace to suffer with the knowledge.

I believe the Drew Crew will find out what really happened in this episode - Henry Zaga posted photos and reels from Capilano Lake. I believe this is the reservoir location, and they are able to use the poisoned water to help Nancy remember the sin and reverse the memory wipe.

Speaking of Henry, Tristan is certainly back in this episode. He posted from the woods and a few locations. I was leaning toward this being him as well in director Kristin Lehman’s monitor - although it could also be Ace.

So we know from the two stills we got for this episode that we’ll see Ace and Nancy together plenty. But boy Ace does not look happy - he doesn’t want to give up his ghost I suspect. I know we all expect them to break the curse, but from Ace’s POV he and Nancy are separated forever. Cannot wait to see it all unfold (pain and all). Celine, the writer of this episode, reminded us that there will be heartbreak and there will be truth. She also shared a devastating playlist I’ve had on repeat - “Bigger Than the Whole Sky” is killing me. As much as we all want Nace together and loving, I’m expecting a journey through fire here (literally) before we get our HEA next week (cause we will).

I’m super intrigued by how Nancy and Tristan will interact - are they still romantically inclined? Or was Tristan almost biting her as the Sin Eater a mood killer? And what did Nashua mean about them walking the path many times before? Reincarnation seems to be a theme this season. @flythesail and @reviewdiaries have written excellent analyses about what it could mean.

We’ll also get a Spring Festival on the beach (which they filmed in the snow), and the return of Red and Birdie (according to IMDB). I don’t have room to post it, but one of our favorite crew members Sangalicious had an IG story at the time that referred to the festival. Geraldine Chu also posted from the snowy location - looking forward to Birdie and Jesse together again. The beach they filmed at is the same one from the bucket ceremony - is there a supernatural confrontation, or perhaps something between the believers and non-believers of the supernatural?

From the trailer, we see Nancy waking up (perhaps with her memories returning?), and the Crew recoiling in horror in the Yacht Club basement:

We also glimpsed who most of us think is Tristan confronting the figurehead of the Endeavor in the same location (yes I analyzed Henry and Alex’s cheekbones):

Are Tristan and the figurehead connected - and is Nancy too (read @flythesail’s analysis for more on that)?

Finally, I’ve been debating if the Claw baby shower Riley shared a glimpse of is actually in this episode and not the finale as we see George and Nick in the wardrobe from this (412) episode’s stills. Jen Vestuto said it’s not what we think it is - of course we all assume it’s Carson and Jean’s baby since her awkward confession. Could it be Ryan and Red’s instead? Or did she mean it wasn’t for a Nace baby? Is there something timey whimey going on since not that much time has elapsed (or has it?) and it really is in the finale? Is Jean’s unborn child a potential next Sin Eater (yikes!)? We’ll find out soon! See you on the other side.

[luvliewriting]

Could you write a Josh Washington x reader where reader likes to do trippy paintings and they made one that reminds them of Josh and were making it for him but he found it 💖💖

Please and thank you? 🦇💘

❦❦❦

A Paint Stroke For My Heart

❦❦❦

Pairing: Josh Washington x GN!Reader

Warnings: slight hallucinations, mental health, but mainly fluff

Note: this is in the year between Hannah and Beth's disappearance and the night I did my best to respresent the grief Josh was going through along with his schizophrenia by using my own boyfriend's experiences to the best of my ability. If how I wrote this is harmful or inaccurate at all, please tell me and I will do my best to correct it or just take it down in general.

If you are having any issues with schizophrenia or any other mental illness; my inbox or dms are always open :)

❦❦❦

❦❦❦

Gifts weren't something that Josh usually found coming back at him, he usually had to give first to get anything in return. No one ever just gave him something just to give him something, there always had to be this extra layer to it. When he was younger he was used to the piles of birthday/christmas gifts he would get along with his sisters; but the older they all got, the less and less their parents seemed to care to go above and beyond. Probably didn't help that they were always busy, the Washington children usually sharing the large home alone most days except on weekends when their dad would get off work but he would just tuck himself away to his office, still busy like a bee.

Maybe Josh missed when he was younger, playing baseball with his dad and Beth. Hannah and his mom always watching from the side and cheering him on when he would hit the ball and run from Beth to get to the base. Usually ending him getting tackled down to the ground by his younger sister as Beth would always mock him, saying how much stronger she was then him. But he never complained, he liked seeing his sister be so proud of herself for tackling down her brother.

Of course now, he didn't have that company through the week. He was a college drop out that just spent his time at home everyday, a large home yet so alone. His sisters weren't coming back, Chris spent all his time with Ashley, the only people that ever really visited were Sam and well you. You visited more than Sam, you spent more nights over with him than anything, making sure he didn't stay alone since he didn't trust himself to be alone. He was fragile, he couldn't deny that, and being alone in that giant home definitely didn't help in his favour of hating being alone.

On the occasion he would pass Hannah's or Beth's rooms, which was rare, he found himself just staring into the room. Memories of his sisters' smiling faces and laughs after they would pull a prank on him or overhearing the two gossiping in Hannah's room with Sam and you. It was worse when he found one of Hannah's spare change of glasses on the bedside table and he picked them up, just a flood coming back to him that he couldn't stop making him collapse to the ground and cry.

"I never wanted you to die."

He forgot how many times he's said that same sentence over and over to himself. Sometimes to his hallucinations of his sisters, who constantly blamed them for their disappearance/death. He wanted to crawl up in a ball and ignore the fact that he existed, no amount of drugs could help himself.

"Hey Josh can you hand me the blue?" Josh's attention left the corner of the room where a painting of his sisters was on the wall towards you where you sat at the kitchen table. Multiple different paints around you and a canvas in the middle. He looked over at the bottom of the table where the little cup of blue paint was. He nodded kneeling down to grab the blue for you.

Before he could peak at your painting, you covered his view from the canvas, shaking your head, "It's a surprise, be patient." Josh nodded sitting down at the kitchen table with you, slumping his face into his crossed arms like a pillow as he glanced over at you. You looked at him, a small smile on your lips, "are you okay?"

He shook his head, he never was okay. Even if he wanted to be okay, he knew he wasn't. Dr Hill didn't help, his parents barely acknowledged him, someone who was supposed to be his bestfriend only wanted to hang out with his crush, you were truly all he had.

You felt his palm against the back of your hand, stopping your brush strokes as you looked over at him, watching him raise your hand up to his lips and feeling him leave a soft kiss to the back of your hand and continuing to hold it close to him. You smiled softly at him, rubbing his hand with your thumb as you whispered, "did you take your medication today?"

"Yeah," Josh's face was covered by his arms as he nuzzled his face away and grumbled, "not that they help."

"Hey," he felt your comforting hand on his head as he peaked up at you from his enclosed arms, "you don't have to suffer through this alone, you know I'm here and you're never alone, I'll never leave you alone."

He shrugged to himself, covering his face back into his arms. Sure hiding away was bad and didn't make the voices go away, but at least he didn't have to see them with their constant reminder of how much of a failure of a brother he was that night. Even if you tried to tell him as much as you could, he always knew that he was right; he was truly one huge failure.

"You wanna see it?" Josh peaked his eye out once more over to you, holding the painting to your ches with a cheeky smile on your lips.

He only nodded, still deep in his grief, as you turned the painting around to face him. His eyes blinked at the canvas trying to look it over and understand.

It looked like him, in the corner of the canvas with a skull beside him with eyes and all other kinds of things that he liked. Cameras, novels, all kind of things that he usually hid from people that were his interests. Josh's smile was small but definitely still there as he looked over the trippy painting, you made it for him. It was for him, it was confusing. Did you want somehting in return for this? Most people usually did when they gave him stuff but as he looked into your genuine eyes, he knew that you did this out of the kindness of your heart.

All he did was smile, his index finger stroking the painting feeling the dry paint strokes against his finger. His eyes were fixated on it, something that was actually his without consquence. It was his. This painting was his. You were his.

"You like it?" you asked softly, leaned down on your arms and trying to look into Josh's eyes as his eyes met yours.

"I love it," Josh smiled, a genuine one, not his fake one he usually put on for people so they would stop giving him those stupid pity looks. He hated hearing "sorry" or having to look into someone's face and just seeing the pity. He didn't want it. He wanted his sisters back. All he had was you now, even if that was enough for him, he still missed Hannah and Beth more than anything. And he would always miss them, he understood that even though it was hard.

You truly were his saving grace. Something as simple as watching you paint made his heart swell. You truly were found a way to turn his cold black heart into just a little bit of a rainbow by being there.

❦❦❦

Thank you for reading, please like and please reblog as it really does help me out <3

Taglist: @margowritesthings

❦❦❦

[sharkneto]

God, one day I'm going to finish my Five And Allison Talk Post-S3 fic. I go back and just look at it every few weeks. Wish someone would finish it (me, I'm the someone).

Snip because maybe getting more of it out in the world will kickstart something for me. A continuation of the snip shared HERE --

-

Softer, Allison says, “I still don’t understand why you voted against it. It doesn’t make any sense. You spend your whole life fighting the apocalypse to just give up?”

Five knocks back the rest of his drink and considers the empty glass. He then stands to cross the room to pour himself another. She watches him. It’s not until he’s finishing the pour that he says, “It seemed like the better option.”

“In what world, Five?”

“In the one where, when we do follow Dad’s special little plan, it ends with me dying alone in the basement of the Commission as a one-armed centenarian.”

She swallows. In the harried few days before the end in Oblivion, a few details about Five meeting himself yet again and then watching him die had made it to her. She hadn’t given them much stock around everything else going on.

“He told me to not save the world,” Five continues. “And the only scenario I can think of that ends with me in a box in the basement of the Commission for a hundred years is one where you’re all dead. Again. And if that’s the situation, I’d rather be dead with you. I’m not doing that again, not if it was never going to work.” He swallows thickly before continuing, “Assuming that version of me thought like me, I figured that’s what his warning was. Add in that it was Dad’s plan and into a fucked alternate dimension… The math seemed bad.” He splays his hands, the dark alcohol sloshing in his glass.

Allison stares at him.

She should have paid more attention to those passing comments about Five meeting himself.

She blinks before shaking her head. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

He shrugs. “You asked.”

Slowly, she says, “So… your math wasn’t actually about saving the world or stopping anything. It was just… how you’d rather die?”

“That’s a rather inelegant way to put it but… yes.”

Allison studies her brother’s young face, working to slot this into her understanding of how everything went down at the Hotel. This whole time, she’d been assuming—what? That Five gave up? That he’d hated their dad more than he loved them? That he cared about her less than the others to have thrown away her life and happiness for a few good hours with the rest of them?

Instead, he was facing what he assumed was a no-win scenario that only he made it out of. The world already gone, and whatever they chose the rest of them would go too. The only difference was whether or not he was still standing on the other side of it.

And he voted to not be. He voted to be done.

It brings her to a single conclusion: “That’s so selfish.”

His expression twists, incredulous and hurt as her words sink in. “Excuse me?”

“It worked, Five. We’re here, right now, with everyone. It worked. And it almost didn’t because you voted to stay. Because you wanted to give up.”

“That’s not how time works, Allison.”

“We ended up in Oblivion anyway! And that worked, in a messy way, but it worked. If you’d just agreed to go to begin with, we wouldn’t have lost Luther. Or Klaus!”

“As I seem to recall, I wasn’t the only one who voted no! I was just lucky enough to be the deciding vote. And it’s probably because I voted no that it worked!"

Allison lets out a noisy sigh. “Explain that to me, how that makes any sense.”

“Because if I hadn’t talked to my future self and watched him die pathetic and alone, I would have voted yes. A chance to fix everything? Hit the undo, reset it all? Of course I want that! But easy fixes—”

“Easy!?”

“—easy fixes like that always have a catch! And if I hadn’t known what this one’s catch was, that it outweighed its solution, I would have gone for it.”

“So you voting no and then still doing it anyway changed that how?”

“Ripples, Allison.” He sighs. “Me voting yes would have meant we all marched in right then and probably were either killed by the guardians or got used up by the machine, even more than we were anyway. Think about it. We didn’t march straight in, so what happened instead? The kugelblitz advanced to our toes. Dad killed Luther. Dad left Klaus behind and he died, too, or, at least went to his Void or whatever he calls it. Which meant we had eyes on Dad when Klaus popped back. We had a ghost form of Luther to stop the last guardian, all his strength with none of his vulnerabilities of having a physical form.”

“Are you saying it’s a good thing now that Luther and Klaus died?”

“Obviously not! That’s no one’s ideal way for that to have worked! But it’s those differences that are what’s important, what skewed things to make us end up here instead of me back there.”