#and now being at front myself there obviously was some form of a break in consciousness for me in between

[chalk-homunculus]

Truly a dissociative moment where we finish talking to a friend while streaming Genshin, then our memory completely just cuts off and I wake up from our bed what, 6 hours later with no memory of what happened or when we even went to bed

[sordidmusings]

Age Gap (Buggy x Reader)

A/N: for @soft-mafia since she wanted more age gap Buggy! Mostly bulleted like a headcanon but has two little drabbles sprinkled in cuz I couldn't help myself. I will be posting a continuation of this actually writing out the scene mentioned at the end, but I wanted to get this out now.

Word count: ~2.6 k

Warnings: obviously an age gap but the younger one is mentioned to be in their 20s, fem!reader, NSFW mentioned at the end, alcohol consumption, probably (hopefully) silly humor, the touch starved shows hardcore for a second there, tried my best to get Buggy right but you know how it be especially because he exists as an amalgam of LA and anime Buggy in my brain

Now come get y'all dopamine

I imagine you joined Buggy’s crew largely looking for that found family goodness then found out how much you’d never been taken care of and how much you craved it

One day while going through the different acts you were learning from the crew trying to find what stuck, you took a decent fall. Not the kind that breaks bones, but the kind where you just gotta lay there a sec and recalibrate how you got to this point

After some laughter (I mean come on it is a crew curated by Buggy and they could tell it wasn’t serious), the nearby crew surrounded you to check on you. While you were breathlessly saying you’re fine from your position on the floor, they parted to reveal the Captain coming to your side:

Buggy bent down to loom over you. The shadow he cast over your face was a welcome break from the bright overhead lights. You just wished that the way they haloed him didn’t make it so hard to see the laughter on his face.

“Good form! I think we could just throw you around to see you flail like that as your act - you’d be our finest comedy routine.” His voice was thick with sarcasm and giggles. However, his detached arms were gentle when they lifted you from the floor. They changed to posing outstretched with his hands on your shoulders and he walked into them to reattach. He looked you up and down before circling around you, all the while his hands were nudging you this way and that for his inspection. Once he was back at your front, he changed to brushing some dirt from your arms and shoulders. You didn’t speak for fear of interrupting this attention you were receiving from him.  He seemed to suddenly snap to clarity anyway.

“RIGHT.” Vocal control? Who is she? Buggy doesn’t know her. “So either get better at what you’re doing or actually fall on purpose. Wouldn’t want you fucking up that money maker.” He was already walking away when one detached hand gave your cheek two brisk pats and he made himself scarce.

It was obvious to you and everyone else how much you ate up his attention. The soft look you were still giving the direction he went in was damn near sickening. It was then you understood your purpose here - becoming Buggy’s spoiled lapdog.

Luckily for you, that was also the moment Buggy realized how his body buzzed when he touched you and how he lit up when you looked up at him with pretty, wide eyes. 

Unluckily, he also decided that being near you would lead down a dangerous route of him needing more and more of you and he was positive that he was just being some old creep over a pretty little thing like you.

This led to a game where Buggy would try to keep you at arm’s length while he battled both his own desire to be around you and your seemingly supernatural ability to just appear next to him at all times.

He wasn’t great at the arms distance thing even when he thought he was nailing it because nailing it to him was being in his natural space as the center of attention and only checking (immediately and desperately) that you were watching and approving of whatever he was doing. The way his head would always snap to you for your reaction was neither subtle nor discouraging to your rapidly growing infatuation.

You decided that orbiting his personal space wasn’t working well enough. Sure, he’d give you a hit of what you wanted with some fleeting touches and mostly disguised compliments but you needed more. Hurting yourself intentionally so that he would take care of you didn’t seem like a sustainable option, so you settled on playing his own game. Time to practice owning a room.

This could be a dangerous game to play. You were certain that blatantly taking the spotlight would just make him upset with you not that you’d mind him taking that out on you. You settled on more subtle things like spreading your attention more through the crew instead of mostly on him, being more focused and daring in your training, participating more in the many games that broke out when the alcohol did, and dressing a bit more intentionally (whether that’s flashier colors, eye-catching accessories, bold makeup, new or intricate hairstyles, etc.) 

The boldest card you played was feeding more into any of the flirting you received.

He has a freak show, yes, but have you ever seen how fine circus performers are?? Full fun costumes are It and also the tasks they have to perform either help them get conventionally attractive bodies and/or the rizz that comes with performing feats (just look at the traction Fryboy has gained with women like damn why he kinda-). Due to that, you’re around attractive people all the time.

While the flirting is for the purpose of pushing Buggy’s buttons, you must admit that it wasn’t a hard habit to keep up and may help inflate your ego.

Your attempts have mixed results. Buggy’s desire to claim you grew but so did his insecurity

In his mind, you look more natural next to one of the younger lookers in his crew while he’s certain the pair of you must look ridiculous together. It’s this very insecurity that’s gonna make it necessary for you to bluntly and shamelessly throw yourself at him both repeatedly and with no room for questions:

You have no clue what else you can do to get through that thick skull of his. You’re on your knees, quite literally at that. You figured that kneeling in front of that circus throne while he’s laid himself all over it would be enough to break the man. Enough to break any man, really, but he’s still finding ways to deflect you.

Buggy nodded his head to a nearby open seat. “You know they made chairs to be comfortable and your dumb ass is on the floor. That drunk already?” he snorted. Maybe choosing to do this during one of the many celebrations (you think this one is for one week of no one pregaming for show runs. ironic.) was a bad idea. You had been banking on some drinks loosening up whatever was holding him back.  It always made you snicker when you entertained the idea of it being from a sense of propriety. Checking in on the situation, you could see how all the chaos going on around you two made it easier for him to keep his eyes off of you and his ears unfocused. Earlier, you had counted it as a plus that working up a buzz would help you bulldoze through his stubbornness. You had forgotten that any alcohol in your system would make for the perfect excuse for him to write you off.

“I’ve barely started my third drink,” you started with a pout, “and I’d be ashamed if that’s enough to get me drunk after all the time spent on your crew.”

“Then you are just being stupid.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes. Okay. Attention didn’t work. Compliments didn’t work. Kneeling didn’t work. Time for some big guns.

You shifted to the side so you’d be sitting towards your left hip with your bent legs beside you. Your drink found its way to your right hand but, most importantly, your chin found its way onto Buggy’s left knee. It brought you so close to where you’d really like to put yourself to work, and, man, was the temptation strong with the way his right leg was slung over the armrest of his seat. How did he expect you to stay away when he was serving himself up on a platter like this?

Buggy was definitely giving you his undivided attention now. His gaze was dark and slightly accusatory. The lighting matched with his makeup made him look more dangerous than usual. The nerves it sent through you might have had you back right off. Instead you held your ground because you saw his pulse hammer against his neck. You saw his throat bob as he swallowed. You saw his pink tongue contrast with red as he licked his lips and gave a shaky exhale.

While you were starting to settle into your bold move, Buggy was becoming more and more antsy. His grip on his glass became white-knuckled under his gloves, and he tried to give himself time to think by taking a huge gulp of his drink. Why did you have to look at him like that? So pleading? The angle from his lap made your lashes darken your eyes and it was impossible for him to keep the image of your hooded gaze about a foot closer to him out of his head. What did you want from him? You’d denied his accusations about money or intel so what the fuck could it be? Was this a game? Get in the pants of the Captain for preferential treatment and go back to whoever else you had in your palm on the crew to laugh about him falling for it?

You noticed his mood turning sour so you decided to interrupt whatever was tumbling around his head. “I think I could get much more comfy right here.” To prove a point, you dragged your chin to his inner thigh, right above his knee, and snuggled your cheek into his leg. His pants weren’t the softest against your skin but he was so addictingly warm through them. Your eyes briefly fluttered shut to enjoy the sensation before you looked back up at him and flirtatiously said, “I’m comfiest next to you.”

His hands itched with the need to grab you by the hair and force your face right where he needed you. Instead he scoffed at you. “Suuuuure. And why’s that, princess?”

“You make me smile,” you admitted immediately. His startled gaze met your lovesick one and you realized what you said and how quickly you said it. Too close to emotionally vulnerable; time to backtrack a touch. You want to get the role as his trophy before you even attempt to approach the title of Love of His Life. “You also said that you take care of your crew and I’m on your crew, right? So you’ll take care of me.”

The cheeky smile you spoke through melted him. An achingly deep sigh left him while his right hand detached from the arm to deposit his drink on the floor next to you. Quickly, it flew back to its limb. Both of your hearts pumped fire through your chests as he reached that hand out towards you. Buggy took his time stroking his fingers from your forehead into your hair. When his palm came down to join the gesture, you were very happy to realize that his hand was just as warm as the thigh still under your cheek. You shuffled closer so your legs squeezed in between his foot and the left leg of his throne. Buggy shuddered when he felt your fingertips graze the back of his calf and spread out like a star so you could grab it. Using your new grip, you snuggled more firmly into his leg and let yourself buzz off of getting this new touch from your Captain.

Ulterior motives be damned, Buggy couldn’t give them any credence when you looked so happy to sit at his feet and receive such a simple touch. He should probably laugh and call you a needy puppy to regain some control over the situation. Instead, he slipped his hand down the side of your head.  He massaged his fingertips into the base of your skull and said, “I’ll take care of you, little star.”

Once he has accepted that you’re serious there will be jokes about the dynamic but do not be fooled - he can only dish it out and WILL spiral if he receives any type of comment about how much older he is (the word geriatric is punishable by death)

Sometimes the joke is him patronizingly treating you like a child (you almost socked him right there at the dinner table when some food came at your face with accompanying airplane noises)

Sometimes it’s calling you a gold digger (“then where’s my allowance, huh?” “OH so my gIFTS AREN’T ENOUGH FOR YOU NOW? YOU were the one ACTUALLY CRYING over me buying you that wonky ass stuffed seal with the lopsided face!!” “HIS NAME IS JERRY AND YOU WILL SHOW HIM SOME RESPECT”)

Sometimes it’s just dumb shit like pointing at the type of girl’s clothing store that has made a contract with God to own all the pinks and pastels the world has to offer before turning to you straight faced and asking if you want to stop in to look. Any way this man can think to goof, he will.

And it’s tooooootally a coping mechanism to process the fact that he’s nearly forty and dating a twenty-something and not at all because joking around with you has become one of his basic survival needs

The dynamic ends up helping both of y’all feel special - you have a hot, boisterous, spotlight-stealing pirate captain pampering (and then making a mess of) you while he gets a beautiful, capable, eye-catching young thing looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky

Nothing goes to Buggy’s head more than when you walk into a room full of people, attractive ones especially, and only see him.

He loves anything that makes it obvious to others that you are his, whether that's him draped over you, you draped over him, red stains on the back of your hands, your shoulders, your cheeks, your forehead, your neck, having his jolly roger on your outfit, having you in his hat or coat

This very much extends to him wanting anyone and everyone to overhear you in the bedroom. Everyone should know you're his and he's the only one who can make you feel so good

Don't worry, they'll also get the message that he's yours from all the moaning and praises

He gives you endless pet names but always comes back to “sweet stuff”, “sweets”, “princess”, “star”, “prima donna” (affectionate), “prima donna” (derogatory), and anything preceded by “little” (“little showstopper”, “little tease”, very rarely “little girl” if he feels especially like exerting power over you)

He prides himself on making you feel cared for and safe. Instead of feeling like a chore he has to do because he’s in the ‘older man’ role, he loves the way you preen under his attention and how you happily return the favor.

When in the Cross Guild Era, Buggy started going to all meetings with you by his side then on his thigh. It was a good defensive strategy because the other two seemed more hesitant to throttle him if you were in the way, but lets be real this man is also clingy and loves showing you off too.

At first he found it offensive that Mihawk and Croc were so disbelieving at the sight of you happily perched on your captain’s lap but then it made him the smuggest motherfucker when he would see their eyes trail over you knowing that they can only look and he can touch however he wants. This leads to him pushing until he hit your boundary at leaving very visible marks on you

One time he fucked you stupid right before a meeting so that you wouldn’t think about the bite mark surrounded by red makeup that kept playing peekaboo with your shirt collar (or the red smears between your thighs that showed whenever you shifted your legs)

[linos-luna]

hihi !! can i request a yandere!felix x reader thats kinda similar to the soobin one where he threw a tantrum and cried when she tried to leave? but with felix his tantrums are more violent for example like throwing stuff and hitting himself? this sounds so weird but i love felix

take your time i love your work !! 🩵

Thank you! 💕

———————————————————————

Tantrum 🔪

Yandere!Felix x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Manipulation, Yandere, self harm

—————————— 🎀 ——————————

Your boyfriend was too much to handle. You do love him but sometimes need a break. He throws fits at random and hates when you don’t give him attention. You decided to spend the weekend at your cousin’s house but you knew he wouldn’t be happy about it…

“Noona, where are you going…?”

“Baby.” You sighed. “I told you. I’m going to my cousin’s house.”

“When are you coming back? Why do you have your backpack?”

“Well I’m spending the night…” you replied while giving him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow okay?”

“No!”

Just as you turned around you heard your boyfriend’s yell and something slam to the floor.

You flip right back around only to see one of the dining chairs on the floor and Felix standing there with his arms crossed.

“Felix! What the hell?!”

“You can’t go!”

“Felix don’t do this.” You sighed.

“Why are you leaving me?!” He said as tears started to form.

“I’m only going for the weekend.”

“Why?!” He blurted out.

You were frustrated. He never lets you leave the house without throwing a fit. He hates when you go anywhere without him. Why cant you just go away for 2 days?!

“Baby…” you sighed. “I need some space.”

“Space?!”

“Yes!” You snapped at him. “Felix I need some space! A little break! Some time to myself!”

His fists balled up and tears started to forming.

“Don’t do this…” you groaned as you started walking to the door. “I’m not falling for it this time…”

“Noona don’t leave!” He called out. “Noona!”

You tried ignoring him while putting on your sneakers, only for him to slam his fist on the table.

Next thing you know, you hear glass shatter.

He must’ve knocked it off the table. He then took the other one and broke it by slamming it into the table. Maybe you should’ve put those wine glasses in the sink when you were done last night. Now he’s making a mess!

“Felix stop it.” You sighed while unlocking the door.

“No!”

As he yells, a glass flies by your head and shatters against the door, making you instantly turn around.

“Felix!”

“Don’t take a step out that door.”

“Your being ridiculous.” You said while crossing your arms. “You can’t control what I can and can’t do!”

Felix slapped his hand on the table, grabbing some glass that was broke from earlier, obviously cutting his hand.

“Baby, you’re going to hurt yourself!”

“You obviously don’t care!” He cried while flinging the shards in your direction. “You don’t even love me!”

“Of course I love you! Stop—”

“Noona hates me!” He interrupted while falling backwards on his bottom. “Noona’s leaving because she hates me!”

“I don’t hate you—!”

As your boyfriend cried, he took more glass shards and threw them towards you. You could see the cuts on his hand and some blood as well.

“Baby you’re hurting yourself!” You put your backpack down and tried going to him before he started throwing more shards at you.

You backed up for a moment, not sure what to do with him. He was definitely throwing a tantrum now.

“Felix—”

“No! No! No!” He screamed while shaking his head, now smacking himself and pulling his own hair.

“Felix stop!”

“She hates me! She hates me!” He repeated while punching his head then ripping out a tuft of hair. His crying was full of hurt and pain, not only from you leaving but also from the abuse he’s giving himself.

“Baby stop!” You pleaded while kneeling in front of him, trying to take hold of his wrists. “Stop baby! Your hurting yourself!”

Felix resisted grip and tried hitting himself again. He was strong and it was hard to control him.

Tears were forming when hearing him cry again and and you quickly hugged him tight, hoping he’d stop hurting himself.

“Stop it! Lixie don’t hurt yourself! Please stop!”

He struggled a bit before finally calming down, submitting to your tight hold, sobbing quietly into your chest.

“I love you… Noona loves you…” you whispered while rocking lightly.

“You tried leaving…” he said, voice muffled by your chest. “Noona wants to leave me…”

“No baby… I don’t…” you replied with tears rolling down your cheeks.

You let him go for a moment and he looked at you, face stained with tears and eyes puffy.

“I don’t like it when you hurt yourself…” you said while rubbing his head, feeling where he pulled out his hair. “Please don’t do that…”

He shook his head.

“Baby—”

He gasped in pain when you grabbed his hands. You totally forgot that they were cut up.

“Oh my god! Sorry baby! Sorry!” You said frantically while letting go.

He started crying again when you helped him up.

“Please don’t cry…” you said while rubbing his cheeks. “Don’t cry baby…”

“You’re not gonna leave right?”

“No… I’m not going anywhere…” you sighed. “You’re hurt…”

He nodded as you sat him on the couch and gently kissed his lips.

“I’ll take care of it, okay?” You said while looking for the bandages.

Felix smiled to himself when you left. It worked.

[atomicbland]

Just A Mirage

Hello I'm outting myself as the ──★ ˙🍓anon from @ghoulphile. Anyways they've inspired me to fall face first dip my toe back into writing and might as well share the brain rot with the class. This is my first time writing smut or anything relatively like this so any questions comments critques are welcome! I dont bite unless you want me to

pairings: cooper howard x fem!reader rating: 18+ MDNI! warnings: bondage, degradation, pet names, mentions of age gap (obviously), Cooper Howard being a jackass in general, canon typical chem use, smoking AO3 Link

You were tired, thirsty, and hungry. Your rations had been finished earlier that morning though it was not by your hand. The tall ghoul who looked like he had walked right off the set of one of those western movies with his cowboy hat, ragged leather duster, and shotgun strapped to his back had stolen the last of your food and water while you stepped away to relieve yourself. You had come back to him chewing on your stash of jerky while letting his scruffy companion, “Dogmeat”, drink straight from your water flask. You learned quickly that no matter what, he’d treat the dog better than you. He kept you on a leash, his lasso was tied around your waist and tethered to the weapon belt that might as well have been fused into his skin. Anytime you weren’t keeping pace he’d give a rough tug of the rope, causing it to bite into your belly. Argued it’s easier to keep track of you that way. 

While you lamented over the loss of your food and water and debated if hiring the old ghoul was a smart choice something catches your attention stopping you in your tracks. Along the edge of the tree line, you spot the remains of what looked like a house, bigger than any house you’ve come across. The roof and windows were still somewhat intact and something that looked like brick peeked through the vines that had taken over the structure. You felt the bite of the rope at your stomach. 

“Now, I done told you what’ll happen if I gotta tug this damn rope again…” the Ghoul threatened from in front of you.

“I saw someth-”

“You ain’t seen nothin’,” he spat. “A mirage. Just that pretty lil’ head of yours playin’ tricks sweetie.” He tugged the rope again, urging you to move along not even bothering to look in the same direction as you. 

Sweetie. Whenever he called you that you could feel the heat of a thousand rads shoot through your body, making your blood boil. 

“Maybe my mind wouldn’t be playing tricks if I still had my food and water!” You didn’t budge, refusing to play his stupid game. You were in charge, hiring him to escort you to the Old World Wall safely. 

He turned to face you, his eyes hidden by the brim of his hat but his features were twisted into a scowl. “What was that lil lady?” 

He didn’t scare you. You cleared your throat. “I said. I NEED water. You don’t get any caps or vials if I’M dead!” He stays silent, still glaring. A month's supply of vials upon arrival was on the line and he knew it. You point towards the treeline. “I saw a house over there. We're out of rations and it's getting dark. Can we at least set up camp there?” 

His answer is wordless, whistling a command to Dogmeat to run ahead to the house. He gives another tug at the rope, commanding you to follow behind him, a cautious hand at his holster. 

The inside of the house was far nicer than the outside led you to believe. While everything appeared to be overrun by nature the original bones were still there. Holey yet plush couches formed a sitting area around a fire pit that recessed into the tattered wall. The floorboards creaked and moaned under the new weight as the three of you walked around making sure the area was clear. Dusty paintings littered the walls, images nearly impossible to make out in the dim light. 

“Now smoothie,” the Ghoul started, taking a quick break to puff his inhaler, “I’mma take you off yer leash and scope the perimeter ‘fore we hunker down.” 

You nod, happy to have some relief from the scratchy fibers of the rope and to get some sort of break from your freakish travel partner. Not that you didn’t hate him but the way he spoke and stole from you did wear on your nerves. All of the stupid pet names that cowboy gave you did something to you. You couldn’t place it, a warm feeling in the pit of your stomach, a milder feeling of what he did when he’d make a pass at you. And despite how much he annoyed you, you found him strangely attractive. On those sleepless night when you were sure he was sleeping, you’d study his features, imagining his strong hands around you as he pulled your hips down onto his, his cock hitting your core just right making your back arch and pulling the same loud cries of pleasure you had heard him pull from others in the adjacent room of whatever hostel would allow a ghoul and his dog. 

The smell of viscera and tobacco cloud your senses, and you feel a gloved hand around the back of your neck, ripping you back to reality. “And be good for me while I’m gone.” The heat of his breath travels down your neck and straight between your thighs. 

You watch as he slinks away, stopping at the crumbling doorway—a dark shadow masking the top half of his face. “Oh and sweetheart,” he pulls a cigarette from one of the pockets of his duster, lighting it before he continued, “be a doll an’ rangle somethin’ up for dinner. Ain’t much in the mood for ass jerky t’night.” He flashes you a smile from underneath his hat before leaving, Dogmeat happily cantering after him. 

The house is larger than it looks on the inside and despite its current state of ruin, you could see it in all of its glory, like one of those fancy houses you see in the movies. People smiling and laughing around a table piled with food, dressed in the most beautiful clothes that shimmered against the light. Women with beautifully painted faces and clean, perfectly styled hair. Those movies always made you wonder about the world before the bombs, before everyone wanted to kill everyone else, before the fear of radiation. 

You find your way into the kitchen, cracked black and white tiles decorate the floor, dingy teal cabinets matching the Atomic Queen appliances hug the walls. You take care to peek behind every cabinet door checking for any food or water that might have been missed by whoever came through here last. You manage to find some unlabeled booze and canned food tucked behind the remains of some long abandoned animal nest, while it isn’t much at least you’ll be able to eat tonight. In another cabinet you find some Sugar Bombs, the box is dented and beat up but surprisingly unopened, lucky you. 

You move towards the back of the kitchen, finding yourself in a small dark room. The smell of mildew and rot is so strong your stomach would've turned if it wasn't already empty, it's so bad you couldn't bother to examine the shelves that lined the wall. You make a mental note to ask the Ghoul to check for loot, of the two of you, he had the stronger stomach to rifle through damn near anything. Pushing through the door to the other side, fresh air greets you, a welcomed relief to your lungs. The very last dregs of sunlight shine through the windows that made up the roof, tall green trees kiss the glass in a desperate attempt to break free. If it wasn't for the roof you would've sworn you accidentally found your way outside. 

With one hand on the holster of your knife you creep with the brick of the wall at your back, slowly examining the plants in front of you. You recognized a few, Daffodils, Marigolds, even Tato vines. However a majority were new to you;  large flowers the size of your head, and plants that seemed to grow from the roof. You spot some pear and apple trees with the largest fruits you’ve ever seen further into the room. As you found your way to the perpendicular wall, you noticed that it was made of a giant window. You remember seeing building plans for something similar in a pre-war book years ago, a glass house that kept the plants inside at the ideal temperature. For whatever reason the plants in this glass house were thriving on neglect, carrying on with life as if the bombs never dropped. 

BANG! 

The sound makes you drop to the ground, covering your head. Whatever it was you just hope it was coming from the Ghoul. 

Just as you're about to get up, something catches your eye. You crawl towards the brush to get a closer look, little red fruits perched on vines decorated with white flowers cover the dirt by your feet. You pluck one, rolling it between your fingers the skin is rough, yellow dots littering the surface of the red flesh. The sweet scent of the fruit travels to your nose and entices your palate you know better than to put anything in your mouth. Instead, you procure the small tin that you use to store food from your bag and fill it with the mystery fruit. 

BANG! 

Hastily you shove the container back in your bag, whatever was going on outside had you a fair bit more concerned now that you could hear Dogmeat barking wildly. You quickly get up and make your way out of the glass house, through the dark storage room, and past the kitchen. Not stopping until you've collided with a large solid mass, sending a plume of dust into the air as your ass hits the cushion of the couch. 

“You’re ‘sposed to say ‘scuse you after runnin’ into a fella sweetheart.” 

You look up, your eyes meet the dark shadow of the Ghoul's from under his hat. Yellowed teeth show through as he grins wide. You look down to see in his gloved hand are two Rad Rabbits, in the other an unopened can of purified water. Relief washes over you, knowing that your dinner would be more than just Cram and Sugar Bombs. 

“I believe a thank you's in order.” His stupid handsome grin growing even wider. Clearly proud of himself despite him having taken down much harder prey. 

You glare at him before softening, in some way, you feel like this is his way of apologizing for earlier. Any time he pissed you off he would at least make up for it with his actions. Stolen stimpak? Within the next day, you'd find it replaced along with a bag of RadAway. A few bottle caps would find their way into your bag too, when you brought it up to him he'd deny it, telling you to keep a better eye on your shit.

“Thank you,” you pause, it just dawned on you that you didn't know his name. He was the Ghoul, the Cowboy, your escort across the wasteland. But no name to attach to him. You fish for a polite title for him, and if you knew him better you would've punctuated your gratitude with a kiss, yet the older man didn't seem like one for physical contact. “Thank you, Sir.” Is what you land on. 

His smile fades as if your gratitude offends him and he tosses rabbit carcasses into your lap.

“Make sure Dogmeat gets her fair share. She found ‘em after all.” He says, patting the mutt beside him before making his way to the firepit, and lighting another cigarette. 

[sunshine-theseus]

Always The One | Sam Kerr x Reader

word count: 2.6k

summary: you have a huge fight but she’ll always be the one for you.

Warnings: angst, sorta some fluff?

I’m not sure if it was because I was tired from my shift, or the fact I’d waited at the restaurant for over an hour and my girlfriend hadn’t bothered to show, that had my crying in Jessie’s apartment at 9:03pm on a Thursday night.

Jessie Fleming was possibly the sweetest person to ever walk the earth, and my closest friend.

“Still nothing from her?” she asks softly from the kitchen.

I let out a slow hum, indicating Sam had seemingly not noticed her girlfriend of 3 years was missing from their shared apartment on such an important date. Then I quickly check my phone again to make sure I haven’t unknowingly shut it off or somehow just missed a text or call from the woman.

“Well, you still have a spare uniform you left here a couple months ago if you need it for your shift tomorrow. But now, we eat ice cream and watch Fantastic Mr Fox until you fall asleep.” She plops down on the couch next to me with a pitying smile gracing her face.

“Wait. Before we do that.” I grab my purse from beside my feet and pull out two small items.

“Are you kidding me?! You’re fucking joking, you’re pulling my leg. Are you serious!” She rushes out questions before snatching the items to get a closer look.

“These are really real!?”

I chuckle at her, trying to stop the tears that are forming behind my eyes.

Sam and I had begun the IVF process a few months ago after some encouragement from Katrina, Sam’s national teammate, and I’d missed my period a few days ago so I took a test. I thought it would be a nice surprise for our anniversary. That, and the small black band with a simple diamond that sat snug in a red velvet box in my bag for three months now. But obviously she didn’t show, and I wasn’t sure what to do now.

“Yeah… they’re real. I wanted to propose and show her the test tonight. But, well, you know.” I start crying again before I can stop myself, and I’ve fallen asleep not long after Jessie starts playing with my hair.

~~~~~~~~~

Work the next day did not help take my mind off the events of last night. Being a paramedic was obviously a difficult job, but I hadn’t had this amount of bad luck on a shift in a long time, and the calls just seemed to keep getting worse.

Our first call was an elderly lady whose grandson had accidentally pushed her down her front steps, she’d hit her head pretty hard, and her knee was dislocated but it wasn’t anything we couldn’t fix and get her help for at the hospital.

Later in the day we’d gotten called to a collision on the A3 motorway, 2 women and their daughter in one car and a drunk man in a large truck. One of the mums had passed away before we’d gotten there, the other fractured her clavicle and some ribs and had a broken leg. The daughter had been knocked unconscious, a broken nose and arm and a fractured C5 and C6. The man got out with barely a scratch.

That’s when I had to take a break and try to call Sam. Holding the hand of the woman and her daughter became harder when I pictured Sam and our daughter in their place.

She didn’t answer. That call or the 3 others I made before I clocked off at 6pm, uniform stained with blood.

I’d zoned out the whole drive home. I wasn’t even sure I was heading home until I’d pulled into the driveway.

I also didn’t notice the now filled space where Sam’s car sat, or the dirty Airforce 1s by the front door that were missing when I’d left yesterday morning (I’d gone straight from my shift to the restaurant), and I didn’t notice the figure slouched on the couch watching the AFL game she’d clearly missed during training today, a beer already in hand.

I went straight to the shower to wash off the blood and cry. Then I got changed into an oversized jumper and shorts, avoiding any of Sam’s jumpers I’d usually curl up in after a hard day, sat on our bed and cried some more.

I don’t get to cry for too long before the bedroom door slams open and Sam beings to yell.

“When the fuck were you going to tell me!?” I just groan in response and cover my ears with a spare pillow, but she grabs it and stands in front of me, forcing me to look at her and the pregnancy test she held tight in her hands. I’d fucking forgot to throw the other ones out.

“When were you planning on fucking telling me this round had worked hmm? That we’re going to have a baby!?” I look my girlfriend in the eyes for the first time in 2 days.

“Last night. At the restaurant. You know… for our anniversary?” and I know it’s sick, but I found joy in the way her face dropped and realisation appears behind her eyes.

“Fuck Y/N! I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry I forgot. How did I forget??”

“I don’t know how you forgot Sam. I sent you a text after you left for training. And another during my lunch break at work. And right as I was heading to the restaurant. And I called, got Jessie to remind you too, which I know she did. How the fuck did you forget Sam?” I get up from the bed and approach her.

“I don’t know, I got carried away hanging with Mills and Guro, but for fuck’s sake drop the attitude.”

Dro- drop the attitude!? She cannot be serious.

“What was that?”

“Drop the attitude Y/N. I’m sorry I forgot but the condescending tone is unnecessary, you’ve forgotten shit too.”

“Yeah! I have! Like if it’s my turn to cook dinner or if you have a physio appointment. Not a fucking anniversary Sam!”

“And this isn’t just about the anniversary anymore. I called you four times during work today and you didn’t pick up. You didn’t think calling four times during work meant I might really need to speak to you? Because when I held the hands of a little girl who had to say goodbye to one of her mum’s and the other mum who had to say goodbye to her wife all I could think of was you and you didn’t answer once. And then I see you for the first time in nearly 48 hours and the first thing you wanted to do was yell at me instead of calmly asking? It’s too much.”

I start running my hands through my hair and pacing around the room. This can’t be happening. What the fuck is happening here? Before I can think about much more, I grab my work bag and start packing a uniform and some clothes.

“Wh- what are you doing? Oh come on you’re not leaving over a silly argument.” We’d made our way to the front door by now.

“No! I’m not! I’m leaving because you can’t seem to see why I’m so fucking upset over any of this Sam. And the fact you got so ‘carried away hanging with Millie and Guro’ to forget your 3-year anniversary and just ignore all my calls. I was really excited to share the test with you, have a family, I’m not really sure what to do about that now. Oh, and here, was going to give this to you too.” I slam the small velvet box down on the counter by the door before grabbing my work boots and rushing to my car.

I hear the door slam behind me, but no footsteps follow, so I hop in and drive to Jessie’s apartment once again.

~~~~~

I’m laying between Jessie and Erin, the latter of whom Jessie had begged to come over to try and make me smile after I’d been crying non-stop, when there’s a banging on the door.

“Jessss! I know Y/n’s there please let me talk to her.” The familiar Australian accent makes me tear up again.

Erin gets up instead of Jessie and tells us she’ll handle Sam, send her away somehow.

3rd pov

Erin opens the door to a very dishevelled Sam Kerr, who’s eyes are red, hair a mess, having finally been let out of the low ponytail so she could run hands through it in a panic.

“Ez. What are you doing here? Where’s Jessie, and Y/n?”

“Sorry Sam, Y/n isn’t here. Jess ‘n’ I decided to have a sleepover so she can take me to training tomorrow because my car’s in the shop.”

“Erin come on I’m serious, she wouldn’t go anywhere else except here.”

“I’m sorry mate I haven’t heard from or seen her since our game against Man City when she had the day off.” Sam let’s out an angered sigh but accepts the idea that maybe her girlfriend had run off to one of the other girls, seeing as most of her friends were Sam’s teammates, either from Chelsea or The Matildas.

“Yeah ok, um, let me know if you hear anything yeah? I really need to talk to her.” Sam’s hand shakes as she pats Erin’s shoulder before turning away, getting back into her car to try Kyra’s or Ann-Katrin and Jess’, both friendships that seemed so unlikely to Sam, yet were some of her girlfriend’s closest friends.

1st pov

I let out a breath of relief when Erin returns to us without a certain striker trailing behind her.

“Maybe you should talk to her. She might fucking crash in the state she’s in.” the thought makes me feel bad for a moment, but she shouldn’t be allowed off that easily.

“No, she’s stupid but not that stupid. And she deserves to worry for a moment.” It was probably really mean, but I refuse to believe she doesn’t deserve a taste of her own medicine.

~~~~~

It takes me 2 more days of her calling before I start to really miss Sam, and decide to head back to our apartment just to see if she’s there, because Jessie told me how she hadn’t shown up to training on Yesterday and she wasn’t on the pitch as I watch Chelsea verse West Ham on Jessie’s tv.

As I walk through the door, the only thing I hear are the tiny meows of our cat Helen, who runs up to me to rub against my legs. I missed her.

But then I start to look around and realise what a mess the place is. Beer bottles are spread across every room and there are takeout containers that clearly hadn’t been put away since they arrived, sitting on the coffee table in the lounge room. I walk further down the hall but trip of some random pair of sneakers. No more than two steps after that, glass crunches under my boots and I frown when I see a photo of Sam with the FA Cup I had taken after their win last season. It was my favourite picture of her in her Chelsea kit.

“Sammy?! Where are you?” my voice echoes throughout the space as I creep towards the bedroom.

As I pry open the door, I’m met with a sight that both warms and squeezes my heart. Sam is covered in blankets, snoring softly. Her eyes are puffy and there are both fresh and old tear stains running down her cheeks. She looked strangely angelic, peaceful. Like the girl I’m in love with.

When I pull the blankets back, I see her hugging the teddy I got for her to take on international breaks when I couldn’t make it, doused in my perfume. I’d got it for her on our 6-month anniversary, and it didn’t take her long to buy me one for when she went away. The same one that is currently sitting on our windowsill, seeming very lonely.

She’s dressed in only a sports bra and some checkered boxers she’s been obsessed with sleeping in, but doesn’t seem to have changed in the past 2 days.

Her eyes blink open as I softly shake her away, but once she catches sight of me, she bolts up-right and scrambles to hug me.

“Hey Sammy.” I’m too tired to be angry at her anymore. I just miss her.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so so sorry I was so horrible to you. I don’t deserve to be forgiven but I’ll do anything to prove how sorry I am and how much I love you and this baby.” I then catch a glimpse of a ring, the ring, that is placed perfectly on her ring finger.

“Y- you’re wearing the ring?” and she doesn’t get a chance to reply before I’m kissing her.

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you! I’m still mad at how you treated me.” I pull back to tell her before she can reciprocate the kiss.

She doesn’t meet my eyes but nods. “I’m so sorry, I love you so much and I want to show you that and show you how sorry I am.”

“I expect you to get me every single thing I crave in the next nine months and give me cuddles whenever I ask.”

Before she can I agree I add. “And that’s only for not letting me give me whole speech about how much I love you before I propose. There’s a lot more ground to cover for the other shit.” But I smile and kiss her again.

“I would have said yes before you could talk any way. Oh! And I have a surprise for you too. I was going to give it to you on our anniversary too.”

Sam gets up and rushes to the drawers, pulling out a familiar box.

“No fucking way were you going to propose on the same day.” She simply pulls out the ring and holds it out to me.

“Will you be my wife? If you say no I might actually drop dead.” I cry before anything else. But then I catch her looking at me expectantly and I just nod before hugging her tight.

“I can’t wait to have a family with you.” I whisper in her ear.

“I bags being the fun mumma!”

“Nooo way!”

“Yuh huh! You’re going to be the safety conscious one. You literally make me renew my first aid with you every single year. I’m definitely the fun one.” I groan but hug her tight. I don’t know what I’d do without her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“SAM I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU ONCE THIS THING IS OUT OF ME HOW DID YOU CONVINCE ME TO DO THIS!?” I couldn’t tell you how long I’ve been in labour by now, but I’m sure Sam’s hand was about to break and everyone in the building could hear me swearing my head off.

“You’re almost there chickee, just a few more pushes I promse.”

“You said that last time and it was not just a few more pushes!”

Before either of us can say anything else I’m pushing again, and 6 minutes later, a baby’s cries fill the room, and Maeve Wren Kerr-Y/l/n joined her twin sister Charlie May Kerr/Y/l/n in their mothers arms.

When I look over at Sam, she’s smiling adoringly down at Charlie, and I see a tear run down her face.

“You’re so beautiful.” I reach to grab her hand while Maeve sleeps in my arms.

I don’t think I could love anyone, or anything more than I love Sam. In 8 months when we get married, I’ll look her in the eyes as we say ‘I do’ and I’ll know she was always going to be it for me. She’ll always be the one.

[persesphonestears]

Another tattoo

(Gif not mine :>)

A/N: So I have to make this a more than one part series because I wrote like way too much and I’m gonna die if I don’t post this already. Also so sorry it’s only Ghost in this post, but promise the second part will have the others!! I actually had so much fun writing this like omfg, I don’t have any piercings or tats for myself thanks to money problems atm but like actually I don’t know where I was going with that- uh anyway enjoy! I’m very tired. (looking at the amount now seems rlly small so sorry :/) ALSO I FUCKIN HATE THE NAME TOO LEAVE ME ALONE.

CW: He/they pronouns used for reader(? I might have ended up just using they/them), Reader has tattoos and piercings, I DONT THINK I USED Y/N LES GOO, I call ghost Simon when he isn't at work, Probably incorrect tattoo health procedures, Reader may be a little bland when first meeting Ghost(?), small mentions of gods(?)

Word count: 1342

Simon was finally let off for a break, given it’s only because Price knew he wasn’t keeping himself healthy or sleeping, so being the ‘dad’ boss he is, Simon was forced to take time off. While Simon wasn’t even close to being happy about having to not stay at base and having to make himself food and all the other human necessities, he’d been wanting a new tattoo for some time now. While maybe some of the privates would simply tattoo each other with pen ink, he’d rather die on the field than die from an infection from a more than likely shitty tattoo.

Walking through the somewhat dodgy looking part of his hometown, looking for a seemingly decent tattoo shop. While walking his eye was caught by the small little tattoo shop that looked clean and not all that dodgy. A small bell as the door opened rang as Simon stepped through, looking around at the walls he was impressed with the artwork that was displayed. He could hear faint 2000s rock music in the background of the shop, standing awkwardly waiting to see if anyone was actually here.

Turning around to walk out, he heard a small crash and a string of curses that followed.

Simon stopped and turned to see a short tattooed and pierced person walking out from the back of the shop. “Hi, sorry I was uh..” their talking trailed off as he looked down to see a fresh and unfinished tattoo on their leg. Unknown to Simon, the person in front of him was just very very happy that they weren’t able to be seen from the back, preferring not to be caught staring at the huge 6’4 man in their shop. 

“Uh anyway, I’m guessing you don’t have an appointment cause I don’t have any till later tonight, but I take walk in’s, both for tats and piercings'' They rambled off as they walked around to the front desk checking through their computer, Simon watched them, surprised by the feeling of fluttering in his stomach. Pushing it away he cleared his throat “Uh yeah walk in, are you able to tat up my other forearm?” he was wearing a t-shirt under his hoodie, happy he wasn’t going to be taking his shirt off. “Mhm sure, I just need to ask a few questions and then get you to sign some consent forms, that cool?” He asked walking back around and sitting on one of the couch chairs at the front, taking a seat after them, Simon sat and agreed to the others' request.

“Cool, alright so first is which arm you want it on obviously and if you have any tattoos on your forearm already?” Simon answered with short and gruff answers “My right arm and no, my left is already tattooed(I think I can’t remember which arm of his is tatted).” “Right cool okay so I’m not gonna bother asking if you're of age because it's pretty obvious because holy shit you are probably the biggest and hottest man I’ve ever seen, but just read through these quick and sign ‘em” Thanking whatever gods there were for people not being able to read minds. Handing the forms to Simon he grabbed them and the pen from your hands, giving a quick read through signing where he had to. Putting them back on the desk, you grabbed them right back and skimmed through them, “Okay Simon, well what do you want?”.

—tiny time skip–

After setting everything up and placing the stencil of the sketch that you drew up (That Simon wouldn’t admit but absolutely adored) onto the gruff military man that was sitting in your chair. “Okay, you ready?” A simple nod was what you received in response. Instead of pushing you continued to go ahead and start his tattoo, not once deciding to ask about some of the many scars that graced his arms. Them seemingly adding onto your attraction for the stranger in your shop as he sat still and silent. Becoming; as you do when tattooing, engrossed in the soft buzzing, the hushed music of your playlist and the ink going into skin at your hand.

“How many do you ‘got?” The gruff voice from above me spoke as I continued to stab his skin. “Tats or piercings?” Responding with another question as I kept my focus on the shading, trying to not let the fact that this absolute 10/10 was asking you about yourself. Sure it was most likely to just make conversation but you could dream. “Both?” The voice behind the black surgical mask didn’t sound overly confident but even when peeking up at the man he was still only looking forward. “I stopped counting how many tats I got a while ago. As for my piercings uh..” cutting myself off to count in my head. “I’d say about 9, not counting my ears.” Feeling a cold gaze turn towards me I stiffen slightly. 

“You only have 6 on your face.” (I chose to give reader a vertical labret, septum, both sides of the nose(like so you could use a chain), bridge, eyebrow :D) His voice replies, stifling my laugh “yeah I know I just don’t normally let people see my chest or just randomly show my stomach.” Giggling, I look up to see his ears turning a slight pink. “R-right sorry.” Trying not to laugh at a client, we continued to talk for a bit more before I suggested to put a movie on more to make it less uncomfortable for me with the awkward conversation. After picking a movie, he seemed to relax just a tad more, getting myself comfortable. I continued to finish up the art piece I was adding to someone's skin.

—another time skip because Ghost would get something edgy and big and I can’t keep writing silly awkwardness—

By the time you had finished and made sure to add some disinfectant and soothing cream to the skin before wrapping it up. You pat his shoulder smiling softly “you’re all done big guy”. Rising from the seat, he walked somehow (even though this man is huge) silently towards the front desk. Scanning his card and giving him the papers that explained how to look after his tattoo. “Thank you. You’re uhm. Very handsome- or uh pretty? I don’t know, can I just get your number?” Stumbling over his words brought a smile to your face. “Sure, I’d uh I’d actually really like it if you took my number” you ramble as you grab some scrap paper, quickly writing your personal number you hand it to him.

Seeing his eyes scrunch slightly, let you know he was smiling at you, and god almighty if the fact that this huge, scary, masked, stoic, man giving you a smile, that you couldn’t even see, wouldn’t make you swoon. Giving you a quick nod he walked out, the small bell above your door ringing in your ears as you watched him leave. 

Giggling to yourself as you stupidly fist pumped the air and twirled around happily, not registering the sound of the bell being rung, indicating the opening of a door. What you did register was the once again gruff voice, clearing their throat as you turned back to look at the man who just left back in your shop. “Forgot ma’ cap.” Swiftly grabbing his hat back with what you could only assume was the smuggest look ever he turned back around. This time leaving you with a curt “Bye now, doll”

Leaving you red faced, in the middle of your own shop. Snapping out of it you groaned loudly before retreating to the floor, hidden by the desk. Cursing yourself for your stupid victory jig you did before even making sure that he wouldn’t come back for a bit. A buzz in your pocket distracted you from your internal dread, pulling out your phone and opening it to see a message from an unknown number. “That lil’ dance was very cute btw”.

A/N: *twerks cutely* ANYWAY

[nono-bunny]

Having ADHD is so weird because the expected experience is for you to have a very short attention span, which is why as a kid my parents were initally very unsure about me having it. I used to spend literal hours in front of the TV, on the computer, or reading books- if anything, it was getting me to stop and take a break that was the issue! They did not, however, see me in school, where since everything was really easy to me I would just find ways of otherwise occupying myself (I actually don't? Remember those days before I was medicated too well, it was YEARS ago, but I know that I for sure got multiple books confiscated for reading in class lol)

It obviously turned out to be me having some real intense hyper-focus and a difficulty telling the passage of time, which evidently is still an issue to this day because I just spent like literally six, maybe seven hours lurking on the Obey Me tag before I even noticed and now it's 5 a.m. but my sleep schedule is already fucked because this keeps happening so it's no problem /s

Anyway. I actually can't get down with short form content, I literally never downloaded TikTok to this day because it holds no appeal to me even though I KNOW I'm missing out, just because my idea of a good time involves watching a multiple hours long video essay on some remote fandom I may or may not have ever been a part of, and to me shorts are like... So boring in comparison? Which ngl makes me feel like an old lady because there's this whole thing about zoomers having short attention spans, which... I do, I still cannot learn anything that doesn't interest me to save my life (and in the past, my grades) but then I go on to spend hours learning about just completely meaningless stuff like it's the most important thing in the world, because at the moment, it is to me, to the point where I literally forget/don't realize I need to eat, sleep, and use the bathroom.

Like!! I only learned that this is even an ADHD/neurodivergence thing in the last couple of years, I just spent my entire life up to that point absolutely baffling my parents and being baffled by how other people don't become so invested in stuff that they could literally starve by accident without even noticing!! Like, truly, no one told me hyper-focus (and hyperfixation by extention) is such a big part of ADHD and I? Kinda wish I knew that earlier, even if it was just so I could have a name to the thing I do all of the time

[rebelwrites]

Twenty Three: Don’t Make A Scene

Charles Leclerc x Nova Teller (OC)

Till the wheels fall off Masterlist

Small town meets the fast lane. What happens when two souls meet? Will it end in happiness or will they both crash and burn?

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

“How is everyone doing back home?” I hummed, leaning against the wall of the Ferrari hospitality area, a smoke hanging from my lips as I squinted at my phone screen trying to block out the Italian sun, even with the raybans shielding my eyes it wasn’t enough. Everything was different here, I had never really traveled outside of Charming, well apart from the occasional run with Jax back in my teenage years. But this was different, the warmth of the sun beating down against my skin felt like I was being wrapped in a fluffy blanket. There was something comforting about it and I couldn’t help but smile.

Everything so far had been somewhat of a culture shock, I had tried foods that I would have never dreamt of trying, and even though I was still trying to adjust to the time difference I was living my best life.

“Everyone is good, in fact everything is perfect,” Jax smiled back, there was something about it that didn’t sit right with me. Not only wasn’t it as bright as normal but he had a haunted look on his blue eyes.

“Tell that to your face,” I scoffed, taking a long drag of the cigarette. “You look like someone just took a shit on your Harley.”

I stared intently at my device, watching as my older brother ran his hands over his face. “I’m just tired, that’s all,” he paused, obviously trying to think of what lie to spin. “There is nothing for you to worry about, I’ve got everything under control. Now enough about me, Squirt, how is Monza treating you?”

“It’s amazing, Jax,” I beamed. I finally felt free from the weight of the world that always seemed like it was crushing me into the dirt. Part of me felt bad for feeling like this, but I had quickly realized that taking care of Pops and the club had taken a toll on my mental health, so it was nice to have a break from it all. Although that didn’t stop me from missing everyone. “Everyone is amazing, and they are already treating me like family. Fred has taken the role of my body guard which is highly amusing,” pushing myself off the wall I decided it was time to head back into the garage, not wanting to miss the start of free practice.

“As in team principal, Fred Vassuer?”

“That’s the one, being the new kid on the block the press are trying to get the latest gossip but anytime they try and get too close to me whilst Fred is around he gets all protective of me. It’s kinda cute, reminds me of Pops.” I grinned, glancing over I noticed that the pit crew had formed what looked to be a human wall at the front of the garage. There was some sort of commotion going on, I wasn’t quite close enough to hear what was happening but the moment I heard my name being screamed I felt my blood boil. It had been years since I heard that scratchy voice, the sound alone sent a cold shiver down my spine.

“Squirt, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost, you have gone white as a sheet.” Jax asked, causing me to shift my attention back to him.

“I think I fucking have,” I mumbled, trying to stop the anger brewing deep inside me from bubbling over, causing me to explode, this was not the place, “that bitch has a fucking death wish.” I growled, flicking my gaze between my brother’s face and the opening of the garage.

“I can fucking see her, let me speak to my daughter.”

“There is no way,” Charles growled, venom dripping from his words. This was the first time I had seen this side of him but I wasn’t scared, in fact my heart skipped a beat at how protective he was being. “Sur mon putain de cadavre. Over my fucking dead body.”

I could feel the anger radiating through the phone screen from my brother, from the look on his face I was adamant he was going to jump on a plane to personally take care of the waste of space that was my birth mother.

“I am gonna fucking kill her,” Jax seethed, “She has no right crawling back into your life now, god I am so fucking angry right now!”

Taking a deep breath I knew I was going to have to take control of this situation, this was not the type of press coverage the team needed.

“Jax, I gotta go, don’t worry about me, I can handle this bitch,” I said, not taking my eyes off Charles. I could feel the anger radiating off him from the other side of the garage. “Charles is gonna snap and that isn’t good for him or the team.”

“Don’t make too much of a scene Squirt,” he hummed, cocking his brow at me.

“No promises.” I shrugged, before quickly saying bye.

Slipping my phone into the back pocket of my jeans I let out a shaky breath, I hadn’t seen this bitch since she last tried to make contact with me and Pops and the club chased her out of town.

“Kiddo, you okay?” Fred asked, appearing at my side.

“Je le serai, une fois que j'aurai mis cette salope à terre. I will be, once I put that bitch down.” I growled, clenching my fist by my side. She had no right trying to worm her way back into my life, I didn’t need her, she was dead to me.

“Il suffit de ne pas salir le sol et des blocs de glace se trouvent dans le réfrigérateur si vous en avez besoin. Just don't dirty the floor, and there are ice packs in the fridge if you need them.” Fred chuckled, taking my shaking fist in his hands squeezing softly. “Don’t let her get to you, kiddo.”

Slowly nodding at the Frenchman standing in front of me, I took a deep breath trying to steady my heart rate. I knew I needed to confront her otherwise she would never leave and reporters were already gathering around the garage trying to get the best shot of the disruption to the weekend. Within a few short strides across the room I found myself standing next to Charles, my hand instantly finding his, not caring if I outed our relationship at this moment. I needed his touch to keep me grounded and calm because I did not want my face plastered all over the gossip sites.

“The fuck do you want?” I said keeping my voice low and emotionless.

“I want to make amends, you are my daughter at the end of the day,” she pleaded. “I’ve changed, I went through rehab, I’m clean just for you baby.”

Rolling my eyes at the confession, did she think I was stupid? Her pupils were the size of dinner plates, she couldn’t stand still to save her life and was excessively sweating. I knew what her game was here and she wasn’t going to succeed in creeping her way back into my life, using me to get money.

“You ain’t clean,” I scoffed, leaning further into Charles. “Do you really think I would believe you? I ain’t that vulnerable five year old you left living in squalor just so you could get your next fix.”

“Fred, il faut la faire sortir d'ici. Fred, we've got to get her out of here.” Charles said, turning to his team principal.

I was moments away from lunging forward tackling the person who abandoned me, the main cause of my trust issues, the reason I carried demons on my back, but before I could step forward Charles wrapped his arms around my shaking body, holding me tight as he managed to guide me through the garage back to his driver room.

Once the door was shut I felt my resolve crumble, my fingers went into my roots as I slumped on the floor letting out a strangled scream. “Who the fuck does she think she is, coming here trying to act like the caring mother.” I growled, “you should have let me rip her apart.”

“Sunshine,” Charles whispered, crouching in front of me, placing a hand on my knee. “You need these right now,” he said softly, handing me a pack of cigarettes.

“I don’t,” I whispered, resting my hand on his cheek. “I just need you.”

“Je suis là, bébé, je ne vais nulle part. I'm here, baby, I ain't going nowhere.” he hummed, wrapping his arms around me, pressing small kisses against the top of my head. “Why would she come here now?”

“Because you have money and she is a gold digger, she must have seen the posts about us and thought she could get a massive pay day,” I breathed, gripping onto Charles’ fireproofs like my life depended on it, “and she knew if she tried to step foot in Charming, Pops would kill her with his bare fists.”

“Well, if she tries to come near you again I will drive over her with my car at 200 miles an hour.”

“Char, that would cause too much damage to the car,” I said with a slight laugh. Letting out a shaky breath I looked over his shoulder to the clock on the wall. “Five minutes till FP1 you better get going.”

“I can’t leave you, not like this.”

“I will be fine, promise,” I nodded, resting my forehead against his, “I’m gonna go chill with Fred, we might even make a list of different ways to kill her, you know just some light bonding nothing major.”

I knew Fred would make me feel better, there was something about him that reminded me of Pops, he happily took me under his wing in Zandvoort making me feel right at home within the team. I knew Charles had told him everything he needed to know about me and my past, which was the reason he was so protective over me when the devil made her appearance in the garage.

“Just don’t go all psycho killer on me now baby,” he chuckled, pressing a soft kiss against my lips.

“Don’t spoil all my fun, Mr,” I hummed, a small smile appearing back on my face. “Now go kick some ass out there.”

I found myself staring blankly at my boyfriend, trying to process the words that had just casually fallen out of his mouth.

“Hold on a second, you want me to drive that?” I stated, pointing at the SF-23 that was currently sitting in the middle of the garage.

“Were you not listening to me, Sunshine,” he chuckled, wrapping his arm around my shoulders, pressing a kiss against my temple.

“I was listening, but you do realize how crazy you sound right now? I don’t even have a super license, we would get into a shit load of trouble if anyone knows I took her on the track. She aint set up for me Char,” I rambled, not taking my eyes off the car, “there is no way. Aint happening, I will kill myself do you know how fast that thing is.”

The sound of Charles laughing caused me to tear my gaze away from the middle of the garage, cocking my brow at him, it was official he had completely lost his mind.

“Babygirl, it’s fine, we are all good, no one will know, trust me. Plus we aren’t in parc ferme conditions yet,” he smirked, slowly guiding me towards the car. “All I ask is don’t crash, I kinda need her for quali tomorrow.”

“You are fucking crazy, Leclerc.” I shot back, refusing to believe he was being serious. “We shouldn’t even be here, everyone has gone home.”

“Thought you loved driving fast?” he hummed, that cocky smirk still firmly planted on his face.

“Yeah in my beater of a truck, that if I am lucky will hit 70 miles an hour, or Jax’s Dyna, not a beast of a machine that is built for speeds of 200 miles an hour plus.”

“Fine, if you won’t drive this, what about this?” he said, fishing his car keys out of his pocket, placing them in the palm of my hand.

Dropping my gaze I ran my fingers over the bead keyring Elenor had made for him, my heart fluttering at the fact he had this on his keys, “wait, isn't this your Pista?”

“You talk too much,” he winked, moving so his arms were wrapped firmly around my waist, in one quick motion I had been thrown over his shoulder and was staring at his ass.

“Well, this is the best view ever,” I giggled, praying that he didn’t lose his grip as he carried me out to the track. “You drop me and I will kill you.”

“Quoi, comme ça ? What, like this?” he said, jolting his body causing me to cling onto him for dear life.

“Fucking asshole.”

@withmyteeth @chibsytelford @stillbreathin @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie @burningcupcakefire @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @angywritesstuff @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @buendiabebeta @ferrarifwendvale @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @queenslife @panicforspec @justme2042 @liv67 @derpinathebrave @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @raaaaabzzz @mehrmonga @sbgal @fangirl-lb @pitconfirmbutton @oslokij @tall-tanned-tattoo @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @pumpkin-spice-hate @talicat713 @band--psycho @little-diable @i-love-scott-mccall @fourthwallhateclub @theysayitscrazy @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @meteora-fc @beeroses @darklydeliciousdesires @the-jer-bear @extraneousred @youflickedtooharddamnit @babypink224221

[andie-platonically]

Fantasy High characters as songs by The Mountain Goats

1. Kristen Applebees - Before I Got There

“And the tapestry above / Torn down, trampled then re-hung / Now illegible forever / An oracle with no tongue/ All of this, all of this / All of this before I got there”

I think this song so perfectly mirrors Kristen’s relationship with both Cassandra and Ankarna. Like, both of them had been corrupted and used to further other people’s evil plans with no regard to their original followers’ intent. Until Kristen arrived. Until she lovingly restored them to their original forms with such respect to why they were created, and her compassion is one of my favorite things about her character.

2. Riz Gukgak - Ground Level

“You can light a cigarette / against the cooktop if you need to / feel the heat against your forehead / let it bleed through / you’re never gonna get by / on three hours of sleep a night / unless you absolutely have to / and then you get by alright.”

I almost picked Bones Don’t Rust, which you should also add to your Riz character playlist but I went with this one instead. We see Riz take up smoking in Junior Year, we see him not sleeping and overworking himself throughout the series, and I think a lot of that does come from a place of going beyond his breaking point, steadfastly refusing to break, and thinking that means he’s okay.

3. Fabian Seacaster - Wage Wars Get Rich Die Handsome / Great Pirates

I’m cheating and giving Fabian two songs because he changes so much throughout the series. Here’s the first one:

“Stay independent, make adjustments as needed / it’s losers all the way down, you stay undefeated / wage wars, get rich, die handsome.”

I think this song is peak Fabian from Freshman Year. It references motorcycle riding, the narrator genuinely thinks he’s such hot shit, and I mean like, come on. Wage wars, get rich, die handsome. It’s literally perfect. But Fabian grows. He changes. So here’s the second song I picked for him:

“On the morning when I stop looking back / I’ll be up to see the sunrise in deep, bruise black / And bright, blood red / And pale desert rose / And several other colors like those / great pirates, testing the waves.”

Okay, so obviously it was fun to use a Mountain Goats song with pirates in it, but also, I interpret this song as being about moving on from your past and looking towards an uncertain future. So much of Fabian’s arc has been him figuring out who he is beyond his dad’s legacy, and so I think this song works really well with that. (I probably could have picked any Jenny from Thebes song and it would have a lot of those themes, but come on, pirates!)

4. Fig Faeth - Cry for Judas

“Speed up to the precipice / and then slam on the breaks / some people crash two or three times / And then learn from their mistakes / But we are the ones who don’t slow down at all / and there’s nobody there to catch us when we fall.”

I think Fig’s self destructive tendencies are more evident early on in the series (see: all her affairs with middle-aged men) but honestly, the way she puts herself on the front lines again and again for her friends is just as destructive imo. Also, this song gives such difficult child-energy, and I think sometimes this is how Sandralynn sees her. This kid who didn’t deal with her curse because it didn’t seem important when her friends had other things going on. This kid who skips her classes, is straight-edge except for drugs. This kid who was knocked unconscious in her first combat and wanted everyone to think she spent the whole time fighting.

5. Adaine Abernant - Up the Wolves

“I’m gonna get myself in fighting trim / scope out every angle of unfair advantage / I’m gonna bribe the officials, I’m gonna kill all the judges / It’s gonna take you people years to recover from all of the damage.”

Trigger warning to those who need it: Sunset Tree is about abuse, which is obviously quite prevalent in Adaine’s arc Freshman/Sophomore Year. It was between this and Lion’s Teeth. What I like about this song for Adaine is that it is tragic, of course it’s tragic, but it also shows her rage, not just for herself but for Aelwyn too. This is a girl who took what her parents did to her and said that’s not fair and punched her dad so hard in the face that he died. I also think that given how Adaine’s relationship with her mother is so much more complicated, the other parts of this song work well with that.

6. Gorgug Thistlespring - The Slow Parts on Death Metal Albums

“Drive home alone and listen to the slow parts / In a new universe / trying to find the mask that still fits me / shaking the curse.”

I’m gonna be so real, I really struggled with this one because I just don’t relate to Gorgug as much, but I’m so infatuated with the idea that he listens to the slow parts of death metal albums, and I do think that this song, to me, fits the fact that Gorgug doesn’t really fit the roles anyone expects from him. He’s not just a mindless raging half-orc, he’s also kind and shy and gentle and loving. But he does have a lot of rage and he reacts violently at times and his parents love him but they don’t always know what to do with that.

Bonus song! Jawbone - Midland

“Come and stay with me as long as you like / I live outside of town where the straight highway curves / three years I lived next door to the airport / so nothing you can say to me can get on my nerves.”

Jawbone collects fucked up teens like pokemon cards, so I every time I hear this song I think of him. Also, the way the narrator of this song gives the subject time and space to go through things and assures them that yeah, I’ll still be here, is so very Jawbone-coded imo. Also, later in the song, he says “stay till you can grieve like normal people do / I’ve got room, room in my house for you.” Like, every line of this song is just so Jawbone I need y’all to understand.

Bonus song #2! The Bad Kids - When a Powerful Animal Comes

“Speak in gestures only we can understand / we’ve made mistakes / everyone spots their own mess / when the dawn breaks / we get so exhausted / lost kids, just wasted / sleep in short shifts then rise to our feet / life is short and life is hard and life is sweet.”

This song is the most Bad Kids shit I’ve ever heard in my life. If it’s not in your Bad Kids playlist, you gotta add it now and Weary Adventures by Skull Puppies haha anyway It’s just literally so perfect. It’s just these kids with the weight of the world on their shoulders, so fucking tired of saving the world. It’s literally the overall arc of Junior Year!

[front-facing-pokemon]

Yes, Honedge!

Something i'd like to point out about its face:

It doesn't have a goofy face, the holes in the scabbard just make it look that way. In reality, it just has a single eye.

With that in mind, could you please do a version without the scabbard?

iiii figured this was common knowledge enough to not warrant an additional form, but alright:

some of the guard disappeared but it's okay. i never even saw that part of the scabbard as a face—the blue eye is very obviously an eye. i don't know if anyone actually thought that was its face. however, i do find it interesting that even after removing the scabbard textures, it still has textures for that "face" remaining:

which implies it's a face more than anything i've seen of the matter before this point

anyway there's so many asks in the box right now so let's just go through all of them:

in order from oldest to newest, here we go:

this is true. most of the models are shiny, unless they have a "colladamax" variant

ahh it's fine. i considered it might have been a request but i also doubted it considering pangoro was literally next so i assumed you were just excited. me complaining about requests was unrelated—another ask i got around the same time

well then maybe it's not a bad thing. you certainly phrased it like one, it seems, but that might just be unfortunate connotations with the way you said it? glad we could clear up the confusion i guess

we do need more snakes, but i also like the bipedal pokémon, as a furry. back when everyone was begging sprigatito not to stand up, i saw through their thinly-veiled furry hate and was begging sprigatito to go against the grain and stand up anyway. and then they did and now meowscarada is one of my favorite pokémon. get fucked, normies (i am sorry for saying this)

↑ i didn't know this until i looked it up! this is interesting. stuff like the male version learning misty terrain but the female version learning more type coverage. this is very strange but i like it. only girls can use magical leaf and charge beam sorry boys

thank you! i can explain it. it is because pokémon are getting very close and staring at you as for the inspiration for this blog, it was mostly snivy. i remember one day thinking that snivy's big nose would make it look very silly from the front, and being like "damn. someone should compile a list of what every pokémon looks like from the front. damn. that would make a good tumblr blog bc some of those would be really funny. damn. i should do that" and then i did. but that was back in 2020—pretty soon after i ended up starting college which didn't allot me a lot of time for updating this blog, and although i kept swearing i'd go back, somewhat soon after that i went through a breakup and just wanted to take a while for myself. a bit after that, tumblr user sewatari reblogged one of the posts on this blog again (the weedle post, i believe?) and singlehandedly revived this blog by reminding me that they still cared about it. and that's fucking awesome?? tbh?? so thank them for this blog's continued existence. if you scroll waaaayyyy back far enough in the archive, you'll probably see that miniature saga. the images back from the first gen and onwards were a little bit icky as i got grips on how to actually go about this blog and manipulate the models in the right way to get them to work, which is why i can never really recommend folks scroll all the way back in the blog, but it's a look back into my own personal history, i suppose

apologies for breaking the magic, although i don't think anyone keeps up with the "i am a pokémon taking real live pictures of other pokémon with the camera right in their face" lore because no one pays attention to the backgrounds of the images (which used to change much more than they do now, but that's just because no one ever noticed or pointed them out. the background is not the focus of the image—it's the pokémon itself; thus, why look at the background? staging the pokémon in a setting used to be important to me, but now i don't worry about it and cycle between the same few backgrounds) or the asks, really. it's the commentary in the tags everyone comes here for, of course

she's a fully-grown woman with a house

then you'll love the top of this post

they probably wouldn't think it looks like anything because they aren't familiar with what honedge looks like so they would just picture nothing in their head. or they would just make up what they Think honedge might look like based on its name, or something, and then imagine that front-facing

i don't know which one of these is the real one. but we have some discrepancy here. also apparently this is a wider-spread belief than i thought

OKAY. i think that's all of them. if you read all the way here to the end, that's. powerful. for those of you who stuck around this long, i'm live right now with a test stream having some breakfast and playing pokémon. come join in, if you're bored this morning!

edit: it's over but i'll probably do it again some time, more likely at a more reasonable hour next time. considering the idea of doing a fully voiced pmd series—perhaps that'll be the next stream. or i'll leave another test one for it. who knows!

[imliketheiceifreeze]

Human Miles Quaritch x Original character

American dream

She is a Polish girl in America Tall, tan, hot blonde called Anya I asked her 'Why would you wanna be a Hollywood wife?' "Because I don't wanna end up living in a dive on Vine A dive on Vine"

Warnings: Smut (and I mean pure filth), swearing, abuse of power, age gap, minors DNI

Short story (porn without plot)

4,841 words

It was late one evening in the RDA base, almost everyone had rotated back to earth by now, all of my squamates had been so cheerful as they wished me goodbye, talking of the parents, children, husbands that were waiting for them back home. That thought made me sigh as I took another generous gulp of my beer, it tasted like shit but was one of the only drinks at the bar and I wasn't planning on being sober tonight. The bar was almost empty aside from one other person who I noticed had also chosen to stay on pandora-my Colonel, Colonel Quaritch.

I wondered what his reasons were for staying, I knew my own, but the thought of him having no-one to go home to spiked an unusual feeling in my chest. I couldn't deny I had always been sweet on the Colonel-probably on account of my copious daddy issues-though, knowing this didn't make my feelings for him lessen any.

The room was already beginning to sway a little, to my delight, and as I looked around I noticed the Colonel getting to his feet- returning to his quarters most likely-meaning that I would be left completely alone, without even something to occupy my eyes. However, catching me off guard, his feet did not turn towards the door and instead moved him in close proximity with my table.

"Evening Anja."

It struck me that he hadn't addressed me with my title, I wasn't even aware that he knew my name.

"Colonel,"

I replied nodding as he took a seat in front of me, spreading his legs out in a dominant display as he leaned back, seeming surprisingly relaxed for the normally uptight man. He laughed a little at my use of his honorifics as he responded,

"you can call me Miles, we're off duty aren't we?"

His question had no real answer, yet I felt the need to reply to him, his presence still making me jumpy from the endless punishments he'd forced me and my comrades to endure.

"Yeah, I suppose so,"

I murmured thoughtfully, taking another sip of my drink as my eyes flitted over him much more shamelessly than I'd ever dare without some liquid courage. He seemed to mirror my movements, his lips quirked up at the sides ever so slightly.

"So, why are you still on Pandora Anja?"

My name slipped off his lips like honey, making me blush and turn away from his gaze, the steely blue eyes boring into mine much too intently for my liking.

"Don't have too much at home for me sir, no point wasting the trip to come straight back anyway,"

I spoke truthfully, feeling comfort in the fact that he was obviously in the same predicament. He hummed, eyes narrowing as he thought.

"what about you sir?"

I asked to break the silence that had fallen on us both, heart lurching a little when I met his eyes, suddenly realising how intimate the situation was.

"I thought I told you to call me Miles huh sweetcheeks, you don't need to be shy around me you know."

He chuckled, watching me curl into myself like a shrinking violet at his words.

"But to answer your question, there's no-one waiting for me at home either Anja."

An answer that should've been brimming with as much shame as my own, somehow seemed sultry when he said it, all kinds of implications swimming in his eyes as they scanned my blushing form.

"I'm sorry sir, you just make me nervous, you're a scary man you know."

I smiled shyly up at him with red tinged cheeks as I fiddled with the rim of my bottle, earning me a hiss as he drew in a quick breath.

"Don't give me those eyes darling,"

He scolded, eyes narrowed with an emotion I couldn't place, yet it caused my stomach to dive in fear....or excitement? I wasn't sure, but I found it impossible now to remove my eyes from his handsome face as I felt my body lean in.

"What do you mean sir?

I stuttered, taken aback by his words which were causing heat to spread through my body like wildfire.

"I think you know exactly what I mean Anja, don't think I don't notice the way you look at me in training as well. You think it's appropriate for you to be looking at a 50 year old man like that?"

He interrogated me with a harsh glare, the feeling of all my cards being ripped away from my chest causing my throat to close. I had thought I was more subtle with my feelings, but I couldn't help the way my eyes would drag along his toned arms, bulging chest, strong legs, especially when he was drenched in sweat and panting. Images flashed into my mind of all such situations he was referring to and I couldn't contain the small smile that graced my features. Unable to answer his question, I had unintentionally left him room to continue my humiliation.

"You know if you don't stop calling me sir I'm gonna start thinking it turns you on."

My breath hitched at his words as I watched him lean back, pleased with my reaction, spreading his legs further and taking another swig of his beer. I wondered if he was drunk, I'd never heard him speak like this before; however, I couldn't help but enjoy the attention, as heat crawled up my thighs, unable to meet his stare.

"I-I don't know what you mean sir, I look at you the same as anyone else,"

I spoke slowly, struggling to get any words out with my quickened breathing and dry throat.

"Oh really? Is that so, you look like that at Fike, Lyle, Mansk, Zdinarsk?"

He drawled, eyes glimmering with enjoyment, moving one foot forward he allowed his cargo-pant covered leg to brush against my own. It was only a small action but it elicited a shiver from my body, the heat from his thigh seeping into my own delightfully and doing nothing to quell the heat searing between my legs.

"No sir,"

I breathed in admission, finally deciding to meet his predatory gaze which didn't falter, showing me he didn't even need it, he already knew.

"Good girl,"

he rasped out, almost having me mewling like a bitch in heat at the nickname.

"Now, tell me, what's a pretty, young thing like you want with a man like me? Want me to hold your hand, give you special treatment, make you corporal someday?"

He asked intently, face too difficult to read for me to decipher if he was joking or not. Nevertheless, I humoured him with a response, although, somewhat offended that he thought I wanted to climb the ranks that way.

"No sir, that's not what I want."

My reply was harsh, causing him to chuckle at my intensity, however, this time he did not bite back, only staring with eyebrows quirked as he dared me to challenge him, fully utilising his interrogation abilities to play with me. Eventually, having weighed up the possibilities in my head, I decided to be truthful. He was still my Colonel after all and I knew he valued honesty. Taking one long breath, deep into my chest, I closed my eyes momentarily, praying to god that he wasn't about to kick me out of the corps for good before speaking boldly for once.

"I want you to fuck me Colonel."

It was his turn for his front to drop, choking on his beer with a laugh as surprise flashed across his face, quickly being replaced by a sultry gaze; he bit his lip harshly, letting it bounce out from between his lips as he looked me up and down, clearly envisioning my words.

"don't play with me girl,"

he growled, leaving the bemused façade behind, the effect I was having on him finally showing, and to my shock, he almost seemed to want me as much as I did him.

Not bothering to entertain the suggestion, I walked slowly to his side and leaned down to place one knee in the space between his legs, dubiously close to his crotch, before placing my hand against his rough cheek. My actions appeared to take him by surprise, still he wrapped his hands around my waist to steady me, eyes locked on mine in curiosity. Leaning down hurriedly, I pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, revelling in the sensation of his mouth against my own, feeling his breath on my cheek as I pulled away with a shudder.

"I'm not playing about Colonel, I'm being serious. If you don't feel the same then just tell me and stop letting me make a fool out of myself."

I whispered nervously, eyes flicking between his own, heart beating harder out of my chest with each passing second.

Out of the blue, I felt myself being tugged forward, crashing into his hard chest and giving my legs no choice but to spread out to a kneel on either side of his thighs, hands grabbing onto his shoulders to steady me.

"Fuck, you're so damn irresistible,"

he groaned, taking heavy breaths through his nose and dipping his head down to kiss and suck at my neck, nipping occasionally. The sensations overwhelmed me, causing me to whine in his hold whilst my fingers dug into his shoulders, pressing myself impossibly closer to his body, wanting so much to move my hips rhythmically against his own.

"That's it baby, let me know how good it feels,"

he mumbled against my skin, which I was sure was littered with marks by now. I couldn't take it anymore, his words causing a wave of desire to crash over me and I was ashamed to admit, the excitement of the situation almost made me cum there and then on his thigh.

"Miles,"

I released another, higher pitched whine as I gave into my wishes, rolling my hips almost frantically over his, I felt as good as feral in that moment, knowing I would've let him lay me out on that table and fuck me then and there in the bar if he wanted to. I only stilled when he seized my hips in an iron grip, and I was actually able to get a good look at him. He looked just as dishevelled as I was sure I did, eyebrows furrowed, eyes almost pleading as he swallowed hard, closing them as if in pain,

"don't,"

he growled, slapping my arse hard enough to sting, making me yelp and jolt forward, surprised at myself for enjoying the feeling as much as I did.

"Don't do that,"

he reiterated, the low timbre of his voice making me moan shamelessly, glad to be alone in the bar because if anyone could see my desperate state, my reputation would never recover.

"I'm sorry sir,"

I whimpered, nuzzling my face into his neck, pressing my own kisses to his jugular needily.

"Look at you, such a whore for your Colonel. what would your comrades think if they could see you now Anja, all needy for my cock."

His words were turning me on more than I'd ever been in my life, making me so wet I thought it might have seeped through my pants as I choked down another moan.

"I wouldn't care, just please please,"

I virtually cried out, shivering pitifully in his arms. Having mercy on me, he hooked one finger under my chin, a grin plastered on his face as he cooed mockingly

"It's ok baby, is this what you need?"

thrusting his hips against mine, forcing my own hips to roll against him with his other hands, he surveyed my blissed out expression with dark eyes. Leaning in, he lead my head towards him, allowing me to connect my mouth with his and kissing me heatedly, one hand moving to my scalp, pulling lightly at the strands, seeming to have picked up on my masochistic tendencies. As I moaned into his mouth I gave him an opening to slip his tongue between my lips, moving it surprisingly sweetly against me.

Regrettably, he was a great kisser, gripping and touching me just right as his warm muscle massaged my mouth, letting my tongue explore him however I liked, it was only making it more difficult not to fall for him, imagining where else he could kiss to elicit even greater pleasure from me.

He was the one to pull away first, eyes blown wide as we watched the string of saliva connecting us snap at the distance.

"Sweetheart, I'm so close to bending you over this table right now,"

He grunted, shuffling his hips against me once more, I guessed his trousers were getting uncomfortable by now and I could feel his hardness straining against my ass every time he moved.

"that's okay, I don't mind, I'll do whatever you want sir,"

I replied, smiling up gently at the man through my lashes, hoping to crack his resolve enough for him to give in because I couldn't take his teasing any longer. His only response was another groan, head tilting back in frustration before I felt myself being picked up with one arm as Miles stood from his bench. I had no choice but to wrap my legs tightly around his waist, the stimulation of his broad chest bouncing against my clit with each step making me gasp. He walked fast, how he did when called to important meetings or to give someone a piece of his mind, this time however, his motivations were of an entirely different variety.

"Hang on tight darling,"

he teased in his gruff tone, releasing me with one arm to grapple with his door, unlocking it as swiftly as humanly possible, desperate to get me into his bed. And once we were both in, he marched me over to the neatly made bed in the middle of his room, lowering me onto it with a grunt, still keeping his body close to mine and crawling over me, until I was trapped with his arms either side of my head. I felt so powerless below him, below my colonel like this, it made me burn, my slick thighs only getting wetter as his hooded eyes pinned me.

"Is this what you wanted hmm? Laying tits up in my bed?"

He emphasised his point by massaging my breast in his hand as leant down to capture my lips again.

"Wait!"

I suddenly exclaimed, pushing him away by his broad shoulders, causing worry to spread across his face.

"I'm a virgin..."

I confessed shamefully, turning my head away so as not to meet his expression, I knew being a virgin at 25 was embarrassing and I didn't need him to tell me that.

"Anja,"

he breathed, moving my head with a firm grip on my jaw.

"Shit, I can't believe you've never been fucked by anyone, not ever? Not even Wainfleet? I see the way he follows you around like a lost puppy."

This made me giggle, pushing at his chest gently but only really as a ploy to feel the hard muscle beneath his shirt.

"Lyle doesn't want to have sex with me he's my friend,"

I replied humorously, Lyle called me an annoying, whiny child on far too many occasions to be accused of wanting to stick his dick inside of me.

"Oh baby, you're so naïve, I bet you don't even notice the way the rest of the squad looks at you, especially when you do all those fucking stretches in those tight little shorts."

He ground his hips against me as he talked and I could tell he enjoyed teasing me just a little too much.

"But I guess it doesn't matter does it sweetheart, cos this is all for me and I don't want you fucking any of them, understood?"

His grip on my jaw tightened as he waited for my reply, his words causing a fluttering feeling to well up in my stomach, the vaguely possessive sentiment untangling a kink I wasn't aware I had.

"Ah yes sir!"

I cried at the force of the slap he delivered to my upper thigh in the silence.

"Such a good girl isn't that right,"

he mumbled, attacking my neck as he slipped his hands underneath my shirt, lifting it gently over my head before reaching around me for the clasp of my bra, murmuring against my ear between kisses,

"Can I take this off?"

I nodded eagerly, and he ripped it off like a man starved, pawing at my breasts, flicking at my nipples to harden them, making me arch my back and moan in delight; even more so when he leaned his head down to take one into his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking with expertise. I had never expected him to be such a passionate man, more of a quickie in a cupboard kind of guy, but he most certainly proved me wrong, seeming to love pushing me to the edge as much during sex as when he had me running laps in the field.

I moved my own hands under the shoulders of his tank top, quickly sending him the message that I wanted it off, to which he obliged. He was gorgeous underneath, muscular body showing years of hard work and dedication, littered with scars and a masculine dusting of hair on his chest. He was such a man, my body couldn't help but react to him, want him inside of me when I saw those bulging muscles and scars. I thought as I ran my hands up and down his beautiful form, luckily he was too engrossed with my tits to notice my dazed staring.

Eventually, his hands travelled down my stomach, tickling my skin with his fingertips, until he reached my belt, pulling blindly at the buckle as he kissed my lips once more. Frustrated with waiting, my hands joined his, yanking off my own belt and lifting my hips, almost begging him to rip off my trousers.

"So needy,"

he whispered against my lips before removing his body from mine, leaning back to sit on his heels making me sigh sadly at the loss of warmth. Soon enough though, he got to work removing my cargos, leaving me laying there in only my little lacy white panties, completely transparent with my juices. He sucked in a whistling breath at the sight of them.

"Jesus darling, almost a whole lake in there,"

chuckling darkly, he leaned down to run a finger over my core, as if in awe,

"I really turn you on that much?"

His words made my hole flutter as he hooked his thumbs in the band on my underwear, looking into my eyes as he pulled them down,

"You still ok?"

He asked urgently, wanting nothing more than to drive his fingers into my eager cunt, but knowing he had to restrain himself, especially since it was my first time, after all, he was my Colonel and he looked after his own.

"Yes, please Colonel, hurry up,"

I insisted, grabbing at one of his hands to bring it closer to me.

"Fuck, don't even need to make you beg,"

he mumbled, bringing his fingers to my dripping folds, parting my lower lips to expose the fluttering rim muscle.

"Just like a flower,"

he said smirking at me as he began to circle my clit with one finger, making me mewl, arching as I tried to grab at the pillows by my head. I almost choked on my own tongue when he finally, deliciously, slipped in his thick finger. Low, satisfied moans tumbled from my lips with every pump, feeling as though I may have expired if I had been left any longer without being filled. Adding a second, then a third, he hammered into me at a vigorous pace, the same I could imagine he would use with his cock, curling them up to hit that magical spot that had me seeing stars.

Looking up at him, I could see his expression, lip firmly between his teeth as he flicked between watching my reactions and my obscenely squelching pussy closely. I spied a wet patch on his cargos, that and the large tent giving away his excitement.

"Anja, I can't wait,"

he rushed out, letting me become privy to the distinct sounds of the clanking of a metal buckle along with a zipper dragging down. Before I could comprehend, he had his cock in his hand, fisting it vigorously, lining it up with my entrance and pushing the spongy head against me, slowly breaking into my warm cavern. The intrusion stung, but I somewhat enjoyed the feeling, especially with the vulgar faces the Colonel was giving me at the feeling of my insides.

"You're so tight sweetheart,"

he moaned, head falling backwards with jaw slack, pushing in little by little so as not to break me. He was so thick, I'd never had anything that size in me before, none of my dildos amounted to his length let alone thickness. But above all, the sensation that got me the most, was the pulsing heat spreading from his member through my walls, making me clench, my body already deciding to keep him inside.

With one last push he bottomed out, balls slapping my ass and he buckled forward, leaning on his elbows as he kissed at my jaw, waiting for my signal to move. I could feel all of him, his hard body above me, in me, it was overwhelming and I bucked up my hips aching for some friction to relieve the pressure.

"You ready sweetheart huh? ready for me to fuck you just like you wanted?"

He asked, leaving no room for answer, already having begun thrusting into me with swift, powerful strokes, having him hit that spot inside me with every collision, causing tears to brim in my eyes as I chanted his name like a mantra.

"Oh fuck baby, so fucking wet I can feel you dripping, you gonna gush on my cock angel?"

Nonsense streamed from his lips, speeding up with every word, making my mind go numb, only focused on the way he filled me to the brim, legs clenched around his waist, fingers dug into his hair, clinging on for dear life as he brought me closer and closer towards my petite mort.

"Colonel, please, make me cum,"

I sobbed, biting at his shoulder, but he didn't seem to mind, revelling in how he was ruining me more and more with each stroke.

"Always thought you were so polite and cute huh, but this is what you imagined every time you called me sir, that's fucking filthy baby."

He growled, balls slapping my cunt with increasing power, even without our voices, anyone walking past his quarters would easily be able to tell what the two of us were doing with only the sounds of our bodies.

"I know, I'm sorry sir, please punish me."

I wasn't sure where this side of me was coming from but the words flowed out of my mouth like lava, burning hot in my throat.

At this he stopped all together, pulling out completely as I lamented, although the view of his engorged cock, glistening with my slick was almost enough to make up for it.

"Turn around and get on your hands and knees,"

His gravelly voice commanded, causing my hairs to stand on end. I presented myself to him, a little shy at this new, exposed position, until I felt a slap on my ass, hard enough to leave a handprint. It had me arching my back and wailing euphoniously, leaving the Colonel almost no choice but to plunge into my weeping pussy, setting an equally merciless pace that caught me off guard, pushing my face into the bed below as he abused my twitching hole in time with harsh slaps delivered to either cheek. The mix of pleasure and pain caused the coil in my stomach to tighten tremendously, bringing me to the edge much faster than anticipated.

"Cumming,"

was all I managed to shout out before my walls were milking the Colonel. Yet the pressure still had not dissipated, not until he reached down to rub at my clit, causing an unfamiliar feeling, almost like the need to piss, flow over me, causing me to try to grab at his had to stop him. But to no avail because he was a man out of control, his only mission to bring us both to completion.

"That's it baby, I know you can do it, give me another one."

"augh-ah-ahhh,"

a choking moan, trailing off into a high pitched whine forced its way out of my body as the waves of pleasure finally came crashing down, making me go limp against the pillows as I felt my muscles contract violently, realising in horror that I was currently squirting all over my Colonel's chest, unable to stop, and forced to watch as more clear liquid shot out of me, all over him. I was thankful that he fucked me through it without hesitation, slapping my ass again as he murmured something unintelligible to my blissed out ears. I just lay there useless as he took his pleasure, one hand in my hair, the other against my spine, forcing me to arch against him before his hips finally stuttered.

"Such a good girl aren't you Anja, Colonel's good girl, yeah that's it, keep clenching that pretty pussy around my cock like you didn't already squirt all over it."

His words made me blush in the post orgasmic haze, suddenly realising how dirty he really was, not that it made me want him any less. Turning my head I looked into his eyes lazily,

"cum inside me Miles,"

it felt intimate to say, in spite of the fact that he could see everything from my asshole to my calloused feet from his position. It seemed to push him over the edge though, shouting my name as he came, giving me three hard thrusts before I felt it. Like a volcanic eruption, hot and pulsing inside me, god I wanted him to cum in me every day like this for the rest of my life, his breathing laboured, moaning softly as he did it, his face so scrunched with pleasure, he looked beautiful.

It took a few minutes for the fountain to cease, eventually able to open his eyes he took in my wrecked form below him, causing a chuckle to rise in his chest at the sight of what he'd done to me. He stroked my spine with one rough hand as he caught his breath, not having fucked that hard in years, he needed a few minutes to recover.

"You okay sweetheart?"

He asked, uncharacteristically sweetly, as he caressed my rib cage at the same time as he pulled his softening cock from my heat.

"I'm good Miles, thank you."

I wasn't sure why I was thanking him really, for fucking me? that seemed stupid, yet I was the one saying the words. It made him chuckle again, I was still so polite after everything.

Crashing down next to me, he pulled me into his chest with strong arms, seeming to want to bask in the afterglow as much as I did. And I took the opportunity to kiss his chest tenderly, running my fingers up and down through the light hair there, still a little in awe of his presence.

"Can I use your toilet?"

I broke the silence with my question, expecting a harsh glare or mocking remark, but receiving neither, only a soft gaze and nod of a head in the direction of the ensuite. Wriggling out of his hold, that he apparently didn't want to let me out of, I attempted to walk on shaky legs, almost falling multiple times as I hobbled to the toilet weakly, much to Miles' amusement.

Once I had finished, I wondered if he'd want me to leave, this was only a one night stand after all....

"Should I go then?"

I asked quietly, leaning on the doorframe for support, feeling the full weight of my nakedness under his stare.

"After all that you think I'm gonna kick you out? Come here before I change my mind"

He rolled his eyes in annoyance, pulling up the covers as an invitation, one which I accepted happily, snuggling into him for warmth, I told myself, as he wrapped his arms around me from behind, stroking at the skin of my stomach with his thumb, the feeling of his deep breathing and steady heartbeat helping to lull me to sleep.

I knew, deep down that I had fucked up, this man would be leading my squad on the next mission and many more to come. Yet in this moment I couldn't bring myself to care, focusing only on the feeling of his skin against mine as I hoped this wouldn't be the last time.

Taglist:

@ab-haya

@isabellekenway

@mechformers 

@lvangel98

@htnw004

@jayedillon

@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

[brandyschillace]

It’s 3:30pm, and I’m having a coffee break. So how about some story time regarding one of the most embarrassing moments of my young life… which was revelatory about my character overall, if not exactly formative. it begins on a school bus. The afternoon school bus taking me, 7th grader, home.

Now, the high school and junior high were near one another, and took in students from the wide rural area surrounding. that means junior high kids rode the bus with high school kids. This is important for the story. I should also mention that my friend Tanya was also on this bus. And she had an idea.

The captain of the football team, junior, lived near her house. She had been watching him all her young life, and had developed a very serious pining crush. Now, three or four years, doesn’t make much difference to adults, but to said high school junior, she was a little kid. Hopes dashed. And yet:

When you are 13, hope springs eternal. Beyond that, there is a delicious almost tangible high that comes from being proximately near the beloved. An acknowledgement is heaven. What might help the strapping lad see and acknowledge young Tanya? Because obviously that is all that true love requires… Her brilliant plan: when her crush walks to the front of the bus for his stop, I should ‘accidentally’ bump into him, causing him to fall/sit into Tanya’s seat. (And acknowledge her in some love misted way that apparently worked in the movies she’s seen.) simple. Would I be a friend and so do?

I am also 13. I am not interested in boys. I am not at all sure about this plan. But Tanya knows my weakness. In the hallowed foyer of our school was a magical machine—a VENDING machine. It was new. It was the first one I’d ever seen. (Did I mention it was rural?) And the machine sold brownies. —Fudge-y, terrible, iced brownies with nuts, and I freaking LOVED them, but rarely had a spare 50 cents. Tanya pulls one of these bad boys out of her bag. NOW would I shove the football crush into her seat?

Oh yeah. You bet.

And here is where I begin to learn a thing about me:

1. Will work for food

2. When I commit… I COMMIT. Time is wasting, and bus slows. Here he comes from the back, jansport tossed over one shoulder, books in hand. My moment has come. I’d moved to the opposite seat along the aisle. Tanya gives me a sage nod. DO IT. Hee crush enters optimal shove zone. And I go for it.

Problem. Her crush is a junior. AND captain of the football team. There is no slight bump from a twiggy 13 year old strong enough to be noticed much less effective. The mission should have failed and I should have mumbled an apology.

BUT I DO NOT.

BECAUSE I AIN’T NO QUITTER.

So… Honestly, some of this is sort of a blank. At some point, it seemed using my entire body like a line backer would be the better option. Maybe I was influenced by his football jersey. The rest is like movie scene where all the drama / action suddenly stops and you get a freeze frame in total silence.

When I ‘come to’ as it were… I’m on the floor of the aisle. Sort of. I am straddling a man’s leg and sitting on his foot. I have been shoving (or sort of clawing at?) his rather broad torso. I *may* have been saying SIT! But I hope just in my head, as it’s weird enough. And the boy looks TERRIFIED.

The bus has stopped. Kids are staring. The driver is staring. I can mainly see upward, so take in the full view of a junior footballer holding his bag and books over his head as though I’m a rabid dog. And I can see Tanya. She has gone seven shades of WTF and is trying to disappear into her purse.

Now, there are only so many ways you can extricate yourself from a situation like this one. (Note: it is still totally silent). I scramble backward into the nearest seat, which — yes— means unwrapping myself from his leg. And then I look him full in the eye and say: “oh, excuse me” just as planned.

He says *nothing*. Just very quickly gets off the bus. Now I’m sitting next to Tanya, and the full force of what I just did washes over me so hard that I still feel it. Tanya, now squeezed so low in her seat as to be near invisible: ‘what the hell was THAT?’ I don’t know, so I say ‘you told me to!’

She very much did not tell me to squid attack a footballer. But in principle…

She tells me she will never be able to face him again. I don’t know why, I’m the one he’ll have nightmares about. Some threats about never being my friend again ensue, but ultimately end in exasperation. But—BUT:

I did a days work, dammit, I want a days wage. “You still want the stupid brownie??”

The look of surprise mixed with confusion and maybe disgust doesn’t phase me as it ought; she hands over the prize and then gets off the bus. I’m subjected to sniggering. I’m blushing.

But I ATE my brownie.

… I think there are life lessons. At least one is that I am WAY autistic. But hey. I commit. I mean, I WILL do the thing.

[cozyenigma]

Twist of Fate

Word Count- 1319

Request?- Nope!

Summary- An alternate retelling around a certain party, minus one guest

Tag List- @cookielover0001010, @swag-droid , @watchoutforfrostbite

Warnings- None

At the end of the day what saved Damien's life wasn't some miracle or heroic intervention.

It was a child sneezing in his face at a party. The counselman, damned if Damien could remember his name now, just laughed and said something about kids being kids. Ever professional Damien waved it off, managing to joke right back while going for a handkerchief.

And then he woke up with a sore throat two days later.

Of course it didn't stay at just that. Voice rough as sandpaper, Damien had to phone his secretary that he wouldn't be in. If how he felt right now was anything to go by he'd be out for a few days at least. It wasn't in his nature to sit still. Not since he was a child. Especially not since he injured his leg. The time immediately after the accident was one of the worst periods in his life not only for the pain and the limitations he suddenly found on himself but for the immobility. Waiting for his body to repair itself was as painful as the torn muscles and ligaments.

Damien signed, pinching the bridge of his nose. While his colleagues convinced him to stay out of the office he could at least make some headway with these forms. Or try anyways. The constant pounding behind his eyes seemed to have other ideas.

There was a light knock on the door. "Come in," he called, voice catching against his irritated throat and sending him into a coughing fit. It was only when he recovered that he saw who it actually was.

"My friend what're you doing here?" He asked, more of a croak than anything.

The district attorney huffed. It was a fond, exasperated noise as they crossed the room. "I was told you had one foot in the grave, Dames. With that cough I don't think they were exaggerating."

Damien waved a hand, setting aside the paper he was trying and failing to parse. "You know better than to listen to their dramatics. I'm fine, just a head cold. These things-"

Damien's voice abruptly choked off in his throat as he turned, seeing the attorney's hand reach out. The back of their hand against his forehead was blissfully cool. The motion hadn't even registered until they were touching him.

"...happen," he finished lamely.

They clicked their tongue, obviously not satisfied with that answer. "You're warm. Probably been feverish all morning and ignoring your body in favor of..." Their eyes drift over the documents in front of him, "meeting minutes."

Over the years he knew well enough he was on the wrong side of this debate.

Still, he cleared his rough throat and tried to defend himself. "It's just so I can be kept up to date."

"It's because you don't know how to sit still."

They ignore Damien's squawk of protest as they snatch his papers away. "You get these back when you don't look like you'll get toppled by a stiff breeze," they wave the bundle as if to extenuate. Damien scowled. "You really don't need the patronizing."

They rolled up the meeting minutes and bopped him on the head like one would a disobedient dog. He batted their hand away as they settled down in a chair opposite his desk. The amusement in their eyes dulled some of his annoyance. Slightly.

"Really, Dames, you gotta take better care of yourself. You look absolutely miserable. If I left right now you'd be asleep at your desk within the hour."

He huffs, fiddling with other bits and bobs on his desk, putting them into place so he'd have something to do with his hands. Normally he had enough discipline to mask the habit but he chalked that up to the illness. "I'm not going to drop dead from a cold, you know. I'm a grown man. I can handle myself."

Something in their gaze softened. "I never said you couldn't. Just that there are people who would prefer to keep you around a little longer? It's alright to take a break and heal every now and then, Dames."

"I- I know that," he fidgets in his seat. Later he'd blame the fever for how much their words flustered him. They shake their head, knowing this was a well worn pattern for him at this point. Instead, they change the subject. "I'm assuming you'll be tapping out on Mark's big party then?"

"That was this weekend wasn't it," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Though that was still a couple days away, he certainly didn't feel up to that kind of get together right now. "I haven't called yet. I had hoped I'd be over this by now."

"He'll mourn your absence with his usual drama. Not to mention sharing your portion of the alcohol." They leaned back in the chair. "I'm sure he'll just use it as an excuse to throw another one later."

"He hasn't had us all in the same room for years," Damien sighed. "Honestly? I was surprised he even planned this- considering. I had wanted to check in on everyone at least."

Hell, he hadn't heard from his sister in some time either. Though that wasn't entirely out of character for her, Damien couldn't help the concern. The tabloids had, unfortunately, left little to the imagination. Whenever Damien reached out he was met with silence.

"I just hope Will doesn't bring any guns," they frowned at the thought. "It'll be awkward enough before mixing in booze and firearms."

"They're not going to shoot each other. Give them some more credit."

The district attorney held up their hands. "I'm just saying they're both hotheads at times. I'll be sure to give you an update on the property damage afterwards."

Seeing his disappointment, they moved their chair closer. Reaching out to clasp his hand, they gave him a reassuring smile. "It won't be the last time we're all together, Dames. I promise. I bet I could get Mark to monologue you a toast too."

A laugh bubbled up out of him and it was all he could do to avoid coughing in their face. His eyes darted to their joined hands and then away again. "I'm sure. Just- be careful? We're not in our college days anymore, old friend."

A gentle squeeze and then the contact was gone. Settled back in their chair like nothing happened.

"I'm always careful," the rueful smile said otherwise. "I'll be back with stories and a hangover and hopefully you'll be able to keep your lungs on the inside by then."

With a roll of his eyes the conversation turned to work related matters. Cases on their desk and how Damien was handling the planning for re-election. In hindsight he'd wished desperately that they had talked about something of more substance. Something more meaningful than debates and fundraising.

But they didn't.

Since they didn't, he bade them a gravely farewell and only coughed once through it. They smiled, said they would bring him soup when they came by next time. The district attorney didn't say anything as they stood to leave. He didn't say anything as he watched them go.

He wishes he did when he didn't hear from them later. He wishes he did when he's pulled into an interview with police officers after the fact. He wishes he did when he first saw the newspapers and tabloids about the scandal, the party, the murders. Damien desperately wishes he could go back and tell them not to go as he views the mansion from the road. Seemingly abandoned if not for the police tape and cordon surrounding the property. Too many uniforms coming and going. Too many questions unanswered.

Everyone was gone. If not for a child sneezing on him he would have been gone along with them. He was the last one left. Damien didn't know which was fate was worse.

[lazypanartist]

Chapter 2

---

A Rose By Any Other Name

Would Feel As Frigid

-

Warnings: mentions of violence, other questionable activities, theft, and the American school system

Notes: a little over half of you said to name Reader, so that's what we'll do!

-

Previous

-

Previously, we were introduced to Casey and their fellow delinquents, so here's the rundown:

Jack - jock. Interviewing Blockbuster

Will - Poor guy.. Interviewing Icicle Sr.

Dan - Another jock. Interviewing unknown

Lainey - dealer of some form. Interviewing Devastation

Rachel - got caught carrying drinks to Jack and Dan. Interviewing Shimmer

Olive - hotboxed a school bathroom 🙄 Interviewing Psimon

Adam - yearbook guy. Doesn't like Casey/POV

---

I was handed a checklist of questions to ask Jr. during session one. Things like his name, age, family, hobbies. Y'know, icebreakers.

Bob escorted me to the visitation room I'd be using. He'd called a few more guards over to get everyone else settled, but I was obviously his favorite.

"Nice place you guys have here," I offered, breaking the silence. "I've heard it's the best protected prison in the country."

"Not th' country. The world." Bob scoffed pridefully. "Not even Superman can break down the defenses."

"Really?" Of course I'd heard that one before, but hey, might as well try and get the guards to not hate you, especially with his earlier comments. "How'd that get managed?"

He gave me what was probably a wary side eye, but with his perpetual scowl it seemed more like a glare. Still, he seemed to be in a good mood.

"Lead re'nforced titanium. Tensill and brute strength? Unmatched. 'S not the only stuff, but those're the main bits."

Before I could ask more questions (probably for the better) we made it to the interview room. Bob stopped me outside the door, his hand resting on the handle.

"'Member what I said, how 'e's potentially violent?"

I nodded, now wary.

How could I forget?

"Well, 'e's typically better 'ith other kids than when adults are nearby. Now, because'a that, you're goin' in alone."

He must have seen the apprehension on my face, because he smiled. Still mocking, but it was there.

"Here's yer panic button." He handed me a small block, a red button in the middle. "It takes a lil' force ta press, 'n alerts the guard station. There always someone in th' hall here, so you'll get help soon."

He clapped my shoulder, hand moving from the doorknob. "Get to it."

And he left.

Great.

Steeling myself, I entered the room.

Junior was already there, hands cuffed in front of him, feet kicked up onto the table. When I stepped in he grinned, cuffs jangling as he pulled his feet off the only 'true' piece of furniture in the tiny, cold room.

"Hey."

I blinked. "Hey."

He gestured to the chair opposite himself, and I took a seat.

"I heard I'd be getting some company. What'd they call it.. future inmate prevention?"

"I.." I certainly hadn't planned for him to start the conversation, and with his growing smile, I could tell he already knew.

"Oh, come on! I won't bite, I promise! It'd really ruin this whole thing for both of us."

I sighed. "Yeah.. yeah. Sorry. I have a few icebreakers."

He snorted, and I could feel a smile of my own start to form.

"Icebreakers? Is that really appropriate?"

"According to the staff, apparently."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. Hit me."

"Okay. Number one, what's your name?"

"Cameron Mahkent."

"Okay.." I scribbled it onto my sheet, the chipping graphite being the only sound for a moment. "Okay. Question two - how old are you?"

He hummed quietly. "Seventeen."

"Oh!" I couldn't stop the quiet exclamation. "So you'd be a junior, too."

"Yeah? I'm a December baby."

"So you'd be sixteen at the start of the school year.." I had already put the number down, but if the goal was socialization.. "How long did you go to public school? If at all."

"Off and on until.. sixth grade, I think?" He glanced to my right before focusing back on me. "Then dad pulled me completely for training."

"Oh." I blinked before glancing back to the sheet. "Brings us to question three - what's your family dynamic?"

"Mom.. left. When I was about nine. She was going to take me with her, but dad wouldn't allow it." He shrugged, cuffs clinking again as he shifted in his chair. "He's harsh, but hey, tough love."

I didn't really believe him, but it wasn't my place to ask. Not yet.

Instead, I must have frowned, because he paused.

"He's typically in charge here at Belle Reve. The Capo. He rules the Pen with an iron fist."

"Oh.." My eyes widened. "So does that give you any special privileges compared to the other detainees?"

He laughed this time. Not a scoff or snort, but full-on cackling, like I had told the funniest joke in the world.

"Are you kidding?! I don't get treated any better than anyone else - in fact, if people try to overtake dad as Cappo, they shoot for me first.

I blinked and, almost instinctively, pulled my clipboard up.

"Question four.."

I left about thirty minutes later, scribbling the tail-ends of answers onto my paper. A guard had come through the back to pull Cameron aside, and told me it was time to leave.

When I made it back to the check-in area, most people looked traumatized. Jack started off immediately about Blockbuster - he'd been flanked by two guards the entire time.

Will was even worse. Apparently Cameron's dad - Icicle Senior - had been allowed to have one of his personal guards - Mammoth. There were four guards between them - which is why Bob had been so nice as to leave Cameron and I alone together.

Laine had liked Devastation, and Rachel was okay with Shimmer - didn't like her cultist attitude much, with Will saying Mammoth had been the same.

Olivia had hated Psimon from the get-go, but from what she said, it sounded mutual. I felt more sorry for Psimon than I did for Olive, honestly.

Dan..

"Who did you even pull?"

He flashed me a grin. "Poison Ivy."

"And?"

He held his paper up proudly. "She shared her thoughts."

I glanced over it. "Except for family life."

He shrugged, wincing when Bob grabbed the paper from him. "Oh well."

I handed mine to him as well, and he raised an eyebrow.

"It looks like Casey here is th' only one who got answers for everything - family life, criminal history, childhood. Congrats."

I shrugged, glancing at everyone else.

"Really?"

Olive rolled her eyes. "My guy didn't want to answer anything - just kept asking his own questions."

"And Blockbuster didn't want to talk about ANYTHING before his transformation," Will piped in.

"Devastation didn't actually give me another name for her." Lainey shrugged.

I glanced back in the direction of the visitation hall.

"Huh."

---

Next

[endlessbittersweetdreams]

"Broken & Beautiful" Chapter 21

     Jake falls silent after his revelation, and the room is filled with the sound of him biting into his toast. I’m still leaning against the counter, staring at him, trying to work out what I should say to him. There are no words. There is nothing I can say to him. Nothing that he’d listen to, anyway. I want to tell him that whatever Simone said to him, it was nothing but another ploy to keep him where he is: chained to her and unable to break free. But I have a feeling, deep in my gut, that he won’t listen to me.

     This is the woman who raised him; cared for him since he was 8-years-old. She is, for all intents and purposes, a second mother to him. And, in some ways, she’s also like his sister and best friend. I don’t know much about their childhood. Only what Jake has disclosed to me during our late-night conversations in bed. But ever since he was taken in by the Hughes family, Simone has had him convinced that he should think of her as a source of security. Going by what I’ve witnessed, Jake doesn’t see what is right in front of him. He only sees what she has programmed him to. And I am now convinced that no amount of reasoning will help him to take off his rose-colored glasses and see her for what she is.

     I’m scared to death. Not only could she destroy Jake and demolish what we’ve built, but she could drag me down as well. I don’t know what to do anymore. Her actions are creating a ripple effect. No. That’s not right. It’s more like an avalanche, and I feel like I’m being crushed and suffocated. I pride myself on being a strong, capable woman who’s able to take on more than people think. I’ve had to be. But my strength is failing me, and I just don’t know how much more of this I can take.

     I’m vaguely aware of Jake’s presence as he puts his dishes in the sink, and it’s only when he touches me on the shoulder that I snap out of my daze. Without really thinking about it, I turn to him and wrap my arms around his waist. His arms instantly encircle my body, and I scrunch my eyes shut when I feel the sting of tears forming in my eyes. I snuggle into him, breathing in his scent and finding comfort in the warmth of his body.

     Jake rubs my back, and his voice is soothing as he says “Hey. You okay?”

     I nod against him, my voice muffled against his chest. “Yeah. Can you hold me tighter, please?”

     “Sure.” He tightens his grip a little, embracing me in a bear hug. “What’s going on with you? Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

     I wish that were true; that I could plead with him to see what Simone is doing, without fear of him lashing out at me because he’s been brainwashed. But I can’t.

     My eyes are still shut tight. I will not cry. Not now. Not in front of him. And so, I resort to telling him a half-truth. “Just wanted a hug. That’s all.”

     We stay like this for a few more minutes, parting only when I feel safe enough to do so. Jake cups my face in his hands and studies me for a few seconds, and I give him a smile to reassure him.

     “I’m okay, Jake. Sometimes a girl just needs a hug.”

     I don’t know if he believes me, or if he’s just easing up for my own benefit. Either way, he nods in acceptance. Then he leans down and rests his forehead against mine, letting me know he’s with me and he’s got my back.

     “I’d better go.” I follow him to the door, where we share a kiss. It’s brief, but sweet nonetheless. “See you at work,” he says.

     I nod and then give him a wave, watching as he leaves my building. I close the door and lean against it, letting out a weary sigh. I no longer feel like crying, but I still feel like I’m carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. I need to talk to someone. Jake is out of the question, obviously. So are my friends. I love them to death, but they have a tendency to gossip. It’s like an addiction to them. Maggie isn’t much of an option. Even though our radio silence has ended, she has her own problems to deal with. I don’t want to burden her with mine. And so, I’m left with only one choice.

     I turn to the table by the door and unplug my phone from its charger, scrolling through my list of contacts. It’s been a while since I’ve talked to this person, and I was hoping I wouldn’t have to see her again. But I can’t keep this to myself any longer. And so, I decide to reach out to her.

     The phone rings twice, and then I hear a voice say “Hello. This is Veronica. You’ve reached the office of Dr. Olivia Wright. How may I help you?”

     “Hi, Veronica. This is Lilah Kincaid. I’m a patient of Dr. Wright. I, umm ... I need to come see her as soon as possible.”

     When I arrive for work and see Scott in the kitchen, I pause for a moment. Usually, we exchange pleasantries before I make my way up to the locker room. But that was before things turned sour between Scott and Jake. Now I feel like I have to walk on egg shells around Scott, even though I really have nothing to do with their argument. And so, while Scott’s back is turned, I go into “avoidance mode,” and begin to make my way up the stairs. I’m not even halfway up when Scott turns around and notices me.

     “You’re not even going to say ‘Hi’?”

     I give him a little wave and a small smile. “Hi, Scott.” I make it up two more steps before Scott speaks to me again.

     “That guy you’re seeing is a real asshole.”

     I roll my eyes and clench my jaw. I refuse to be sucked into the middle of this. Jake and Scott are two grown men. They’re perfectly capable of settling things without dragging me into the middle of it. “I have to get ready for work, Scott. I really don’t want to get sucked into this.”

     “But you already are. Aren’t you? What the hell is his problem?”

     I square my shoulders and take in a deep breath, letting it out slowly before I turn to face him. “Scott, I wish I could tell you. He’s going through something, and it really has nothing to do with you. You two need to man up and settle it between yourselves. Just leave me out of it. I have my own problems.”

     Without giving Scott the chance to respond, I finish ascending the stairs. I enter the locker room, stopping short when I see Simone. Ugh. Speaking of “my own problems.” Without saying a word to her, I open my locker and hang up my purse. Because my back is turned to her, I don’t have to hide my grimace when she speaks to me.

     “Hello, Lilah. How was your night?”

     I roll my eyes at her tone. Does she realize that instead of sounding cheerful and pleasant, she comes across as fake and condescending? “It was a long one,” I answer tiredly, hanging up my coat and scarf.

     “Jake told me that there was an incident with Scott.”

     I turn around to face her, watching as she puts on that same old, tired shade of lipstick she’s been wearing for years. I lean against the lockers, folding my arms across my chest. I know I should keep my mouth shut, but I just can’t. “Yeah. There was. Did he tell you that he’s not starting that business with Scott?”

     Simone blots her lipstick. “He did,” she answers, her tone even.

     “Did he tell you why?”

     She turns to face me. “He said that it was a bad idea.”

     “That’s weird. Because all the times he talked about it with me, he seemed excited. And then, you pulled him aside last night and ... suddenly, he’s changed his mind.” I narrow my eyes at her. I know this is a stupid thing to do, but my desire to stand up for Jake has kicked into overdrive. “Not only that, but he was a wreck. What did you say to him? I know you said something to him, Simone. Something that triggered him. He may not see what you’re doing because he’s beholden to you, but I do.”

     She remains frighteningly calm as she takes a few steps toward me. “And what do you think I’m doing, exactly?”

     “You’re keeping him exactly where you want him.”

     “Why would I do that?”

     “Because you enjoy the fact that he still needs you,” I answer, my voice even.

     A smirk crosses her features, and I brace myself. I’m going to be ready this time. She’s not going to catch me off-guard. Not again.

     “First of all, Jake is a grown man. If he decides to stay here, it’s his choice. No one can talk him into anything. Least of all me. And even if he does need me, that shouldn’t be a threat to you. There’s enough room in his life for the both of us.”

     I shake my head. “This isn’t about me, Simone. This is about Jake. I don’t know what you said to him, but it led him to give up on his plans. And as much as I tried to keep the peace between us, for his sake ... I can’t just sit back and keep silent when you do or say something that costs him.”

     “We’re alike, you and I.” I want to throw up at this. I’m nothing like her. “We both want to protect Jake. That’s one of the things I like about you, Lilah: your protective nature. It’s admirable. But it can also be exhausting. Can't it? Especially where Jake is concerned."

     I blink at her. I’ll give her this: she does have a point. As much as I hate to admit it, I am feeling worn down. I spend so much time walking on egg shells, afraid that I could do or say something that will send Jake straight to Simone, that I sometimes forget to take care of myself. At first, I could take it. But now, I feel drained. I’m not willing to step away from him and what we have, but I can’t keep pushing myself like this.

     “There’s no reason why we have to be at odds with each other,” Simone says. “Perhaps one day, we’ll be able to put this all behind us.”

     She gives me one of her fake smiles - the kind that never quite reaches her eyes - and then leaves the room. Needing to blow off some steam, I flop down on the couch and grab one of the pillows. Then I take in a deep breath and scream into the pillow as hard as I can.

     My Thursday morning appointment with Dr. Wright can’t come soon enough.

     Thanks to an anxiety pill and a few breathing exercises, I manage to make it through the rest of the day without wanting to scream, cry, or stab someone. I decide to skip Shift Drinks, wanting nothing more than to have a little “me time,” before Jake comes over. He seems to accept this, but I can still see the concern in the blue depths of his eyes. After assuring him that I’ll be okay and that I’ll be waiting for him, I make my way home and jump straight to Relaxation Tactic #5: take a bubble bath.

     Deciding against lavender, I choose to light some new incense before I sink into the soapy depths of my tub. I decide against playing music this time, just wanting to enjoy a few moments of silence before Jake arrives. I lean back and close my eyes, breathing in the delicious scent of vanilla and focusing on my breathing.

     I don’t know how long I’ve been in the tub when I hear Jake call out to me. Only that the water is still warm. Guess he decided to skip Home Bar after all. To be honest, I was hoping to have a little more time by myself. But at least I’m in a better state that I was before. “I’m in here!” I yell.

     “Take your time.”

     “I’m just taking a bath. You can come in if you want.”

     I quietly chuckle to myself when Jake actually knocks on the door before opening it, poking his head inside. “Everything okay in here?”

     “Yes! Come in and shut the door! You’re letting out all the heat!”

     He enters the room, having discarded his jacket, hoodie and shoes. He takes one look at me, covered by bubbles with my hair pinned up, and gives me an appreciative glance. “Nice.” I roll my eyes at him, watching as he approaches me. He leans down to give me a kiss before sitting down next to the tub. He reaches for my hand, entwining his fingers with mine as he asks “Everything okay?”

     “I’m fine. I just needed a little mental health break. That’s all.”

     “Want me to go?”

     I shake my head at him. “No. You can join me, if you want. I mean, if you don’t mind the bubbles.”

     He gives me a quiet laugh. “You sure there’s enough room?”

     “I think I can make room.”

     Jake looks like he’s considering it for a moment, his eyes scanning the length of the tub. Then he scrunches up his nose and shakes his head. “Nah. I’m good.”

     “Okay. If you say so.”

     “Seriously, though. What’s going on with you? You’ve seemed off all day.” He pauses for a moment before he adds “Does it have something to do with last night?”

     I sigh. “Yeah. That’s part of it, anyway.”

     “I’m sorry I worried you. But I’m fine. I mean, Scott’s still pissed at me. But ... I’m okay.”

     I lift a brow at him. “Are you?”

     He gives me a smile and a laugh. “Yes.” He looks down at our interlocked hands, avoiding my gaze. “It was just a stupid pipe dream, anyway. What do I know about starting up a business?”

     I stare at him, not knowing what to say. It seems he has his mind made up, and I know how stubborn he can be. Sometimes, it’s just best to take a step back and let him work it out for himself. Sensing that a change in subject is in order, I tell him “I’m going to see my psychiatrist tomorrow.”

     He looks at me in surprise. “You see a psychiatrist?”

     “Yeah. Sometimes. Not often. Just when I need someone to talk to.”

     Jake seems genuinely confused. Even insulted. “But ... why pay someone a hundred bucks an hour to listen to you, when you have me?”

     I reach out to run a hand through his hair. “Jake, that’s sweet. But I can’t run to you every time I have a problem. It wouldn’t be fair to you. And I want you to look forward to being with me. I don’t want you to dread seeing me.”

     He still doesn’t look at me when he comments “I don’t know. I don’t think I could pay a total stranger to listen to my problems. Not again, anyway.”

     I look at him in surprise. “You mean, you’ve tried it?”

     “Yeah. For a while. It was a few years ago. Back when Simone was still in France.”

     “And you felt it didn’t help?”

     He shakes his head. “No. Not really. Just felt weird, sitting there and answering questions while some stranger wrote stuff on his notepad. I don’t know. I guess I felt ... judged.” He looks up at me, giving me a small smile. “But hey! If you think this shrink can help you, go for it.”

     I cringe a little at his usage of the word “shrink,” but let it pass. “Thank you for understanding.”

     He nods his head once. “You’re welcome.” As he begins to get up, he says “I’ll leave you alone to finish your bath.”

     I look up at him. “You sure you won’t join me?”

     “I’m sure. There’s no way I could wedge myself in there.” He pauses for a moment and then adds “That came out wrong. Didn’t it?”

     “Yeah. A little.”

     “Anyway, I’m gonna go,” he says, pointing his thumb at the door. Then he leans down and kisses me on the top of the head. “Enjoy your bath. See you in a few.”

@anastacia-lynn

@mypsychoticlove

[galactic-star-bruiser]

Fear pt. 2

Mando x f!reader

Fluff and angst ;)

Pt.2 readers POV

The small cabin we stayed in on Hoth came as glorious respite from the freezing cold winds that continued to roar outside... even if the home seem to be coming apart at the hinges. 

The Mandalorian used his flame thrower to start a modest fire within the dilapidated fire place before I could warn him not to. 

Within seconds the small cabin was engulfed by soot and smoke, I was rushed to the ground by its force and was now scanning for any sign of the Mandalorian within the black plumes of smoke. 

 “Mando” I called out, choking on the smoke “Where are you...”

It wasn’t until I saw the glint of beskar armor shining against a flame emitting from his wrist that I was sure he was still there. 

Following the flame as a beacon, I walked slowly over to where he was, swatting at the falling soot, and found him sitting in a chair that was engulfed by his large frame. 

“I didn’t know that would happen..” He said sheepishly.

I gave him a reassuring pat on the back, “Its okay, I was going to warn you but I was too late. I don’t think you saw that the chimney was crumbling inwards when we walked in.”

////// 

Embarrassment was coursing through my veins... how could I be so stupid? I was a Mandalorian and I prided myself on being hyperaware and assessing my surroundings. It didn’t help that there was a gnawing feeling that replaced where my heart usually sat, reminding me of how I couldn’t help but want to impress the woman I had been traveling with. 

“ Dank Farrik ” I cursed, listening to the way the words came out even deeper under my helmet.

If I was feeling the wind chills, I knew my partner must’ve been feeling it tenfold. I watched her shiver as she began shoving furniture into a makeshift bed. 

“You can have this” she stated, pointing at a couch and chair that she had put together “I’ll take the floor.”

My heart started pounding... I didn’t understand it. Her gentle nature was juxtaposed by her scars and her background; I knew she was dangerous and the only reason I had originally went up to her was because she fit the description of the bounty I was after. In earnest I believed her to be a man as all the other legends surrounding her work had believed.

I moved towards her, watching her soot stained face, “No.” Was all I could muster without breaking my stoic front. 

“No” she repeated back to me, obviously confused, “why not? I know it’s not a real bed... but damn I tried.”

I couldn’t swallow back the chuckle that erupted from my lips, “No, I meant that I’ll take the floor... you will take the... ‘bed’.”

“Oh”

I was entranced by the blush that crept its way to her cheeks, and I watched her climb awkwardly into the bed she had made.

“Aren’t you going to sleep?” She asked. I could tell her battle mentality made her wary of sleeping unguarded around a stranger. She thought I didn’t see the blaster she held close to her chest.

“I’ll be sitting here, I have some work to complete.” I stated, matter of factly.

In reality, I had absolutely nothing to do. I could feel sleep consuming me and beckoning me... but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from her small form. I traced the outlines of her body, now completely lax with sleep, and I turned off anything on my helmet that would impede or change the way she looked. No heat signature or anything... just her.

//////////////

I slept for a few minutes at a time, though tired, I could feel the cold seeping into my bones. 

I glanced around the room, blaster held close to my chest. Sure, I liked the guy, but I wasn’t stupid and I knew just how much danger I could get myself in by letting my guard down. 

There was was. on the floor next to me. Snoring softly with his arms crossed, the snoring being the only sign that he truly was asleep as his helmet gave no indication otherwise.

I took one of the old blankets I had found and laid it across his sleeping form, and I couldn’t help but smile at how he looked.

I hated how this man, a man who wouldn’t even reciprocate my attempts at conversation, made me feel weak. While I looked forward to capturing the bounty I was after... my mind screamed at me that this might be the last chance I get to stare at the beskar clad man.

I didn’t like the accept that thought.

I watched all three moons dip behind the horizon, and admired the way that the mornings soft sunlight hit the snow and made it shine like crushed ur-diamond. I was grateful for the blankets, cowl, and gloves I had, but the clothes I wore in order to hunt on Tatooine... they just weren’t cutting it. 

I lifted my sore body, feet dangling off the side of my makeshift bed, and forgot about the man who laid beneath me. 

I let out a high pitched squeal as my feet grazed his cold beskar armor, which lead him to sit up, startled and pointing his blaster at nothing. 

I laughed “Sorry Mando, I forgot you were there”

“Are you hurt?”

I laughed softy again, “no, no, you just gave me a fright, thats all.”

He nodded his head, understanding, and lowered his blaster. He also took a moment to inspect the blanket I had laid over him. 

“Sorry” I mumbled, “I thought maybe you were cold.”

//////// 

I laughed silently to myself... she thought I might be cold. My face was a deep red, hinting that her gentle actions affected my greatly. Thank the goddess for this damn helmet.