#and yet these two are having a rough fucken time about it

[mercymaker]

me having a normal one today

[gamblersdoll]

nsfw, cnc mention, rough sex, spit, spanking, degrading, deku using blackwhip, manipulation. lmk if i didnt tag it. attempted kidnapping, stalker themes implied.

an: its been edited for more… fantasy.

the city was clear skied at night, civilly looking and dressed by the way. no villains were out, crime was semi dying downing and only left to maybe crimes that occurred twice a month. even then, it wasnt like it was eliminated.

maybe the universe was trying to give you and izuku, the number two pro here, after todoroki, a chance at happiness. maybe a saving grace, it could be. it only started after you and izukus marriage, it was a good thing. the media went crazy about you and izuku marrying , screaming how it wasnt meant to be.

thats the only reason it brought izukus rating down, because of a damn relationship. it wasn’t supposed to be you and izuku, it was just supposed to be ochako and izuku. yet, izuku always assured you that you were his true love.

and maybe that saving grace after the marriage was short lived, since crime spiked back up, immediately too.

and it was one that was very, destructive. which only meant a specific person that unfortunately fell into the hands of crime when he was attempting to be a hero.

dynamight.

izuku often did search for him, attempting to find his childhood best friend who desperately wanted to be a hero. but would always come up empty handed..

this time was different.

“izuku!” you screamed, keeping the door open and just staring at the horrifying box in front of you. he comes stumbling down the stairs, hand on your hip and bug eyed at the box.

someone has it out for you, bad. and they have your address, presumably pretending to be usps. or it was someone who worked at the delivery company, sending you body parts for and as an act of love.

it didnt make sense to you.

“are you going to be okay when im gone, love?” izuku says, tightening up his hero boots and looking to you. you nod, feeling his hand caressing your cheek and kissing your lips. “good. i love you.”

“i love you.” you say back, watching him depart from you in a instant. he had to go to the americas for a mission, supposedly. there was a big problem over there and they needed as many heroes as possible.

thats what heroes do, right?

thats what you at least remind yourself, since you were on active leave because of a big mission you did. you were forced to take a break, since your arm and shoulder were damaged. you were only discharged a couple months ago—

“grab the girl!” a rando shouted, a hand over your mouth and a knife to your throat. you were fucked, dropping your phone in a scramble and you damn sure couldnt use your fucking quirk. “what a lucky day! just my damn luck–!”

and you heard him gargle, was he that fucked in his mind he had gone rabid? his hands drop, his heavy weight pushing into you and you.. move away? you look to see what had happened, only to see his head had became scrambled.

you feel a cold sweat, your stomach churning and it feels like you could vomit. sure, youre a pro now— that doesnt mean you cant feel a little sick from the gore of the scene. you look to the wall, reading it.

‘youre welcome.’

someone had saved you? it was that quick? you look around the area, top and bottom. there wasnt a gunman, nor was there any traces. you scramble to find your device, calling izuku.

please, pick the fuck up.

“baby?” he asks, sounding concern.

“i almost got kidnapped—“ you start, but you think that izuku would freak out. but.. hes more calm. “but, the weirdest shit happened, the perp just.. died behind me! his head.. its like halfway gone, and i guess whoever the ‘hero�� of the night is, basically said i was fucken welcomed.”

“youre okay though, right?” izuku asks. no, youre not fucking okay, you just almost got abducted and someone blew someones head off behind you! you grunt a response, “okay, get home safe, okay bunny?”

yeah, right.

yet, something felt.. off about him when he came back. he said he would be back by the twentieth of july, and it was the fucking first of august.

“where have you been?” you ask, worried, scared, nervous, angry, confused all hit you at the same time. it felt like hell, you didn’t want to be that insecure wife that questioned her husband each day.

“something came up, im sorry baby.” he apologized, coming over to hold you and kiss your cheek. “you have nothing to worry about, sweetheart.”

“i..” you try and start, but the words just got stuck into your throat.

“you?” izuku tries to help, but it looks like he didnt want to hear it. feigning confusion and worry on his face, not like you could tell.

you were too in love and worried to even pay attention.

“i.. i forgive you.” you say, shaking those negative feelings and thoughts away from your body. it was good that you did that, you never did well with it.

good, according to plan.

you both went to sleep peacefully that night, you did at least…

until you didnt, you were a light sleeper. and of course, you heard something. something wasnt right, no, it was too hot. izuku mustve changed the temperature in the house.

your feet move , still groggy and looking at the thermostat.

seventy-nine degrees?! did he want both of you to fucking boil!? you curse under your breath, changing it back to the original temperature, at least sixty degrees. yet, something still didnt feel right—

creak!

you think its izuku, so you go back upstairs. that boy was still asleep—

creeakk!

someone or something was in the house, and you shake him. “izuku, somethings in the house.” you silent shout, knowing he wasnt that heavy of a sleeper. was he really that tired to where he wouldnt wake to do a check in the house?

fine, be that fucking way, deku.

you go on your own, and you tiptoe in your own fucking house.. how comical. but there is a lingering smell, it wasnt a familiar smell.

or at least, not yours or izukus.

you check each room, there wasnt anything.. and then back downstairs. maybe you were paranoid—

no, the fuck you werent. or maybe you just see a big ass shadow man sitting in the corner of the living room. you stop in your tracks, you have to be making eye contact with this.. thing.

he clears his throat, tapping his foot, and goes to stand up–

“midori—mff!” you try to shout for him, but a hand comes around your mouth and you can smell it, chloroform.

you wake up finally, groggy and trying to remember what had happened, but you see him, bakugou. you remember his suit, his hair, those mean, red eyes that you had first fallen in love with.

“nothin’ to say?” he starts, pulling his hands out of his gloves and crouching in front of you. “welcome home, beauts.”

“zuku!” you try, but bakugou just laughs.

“he’s probably still asleep, he was always a heavy sleeper.” bakugou started again, “izuku?” he mocks, looking around and back to you. “still asleep.”

“you—“

“yeah yeah, im a villain, this that ‘n the third.” he mumbles, kissing your cheek then getting close to your ear. “but i saved you, didnt i?” he whispers, “youre welcome.”

and it clicks, he was the one that blew the guys’ brains out.

you hear a door open, and a tuff of green hair. izuku walks in, standing in the doorway and dynamight just looks at him. “izuku! please..” you say, knowing he would save you.

“oh, hey kacchan.” he simply says, walking over and dapping him up. it confused the fuck out of you, and he just looks at you like there isnt a fucking villain in front of you. “hi, baby.”

“midoriya, what the fuck are you doing?!” you shout, “do you not see him?” you question, feeling bakugou get behind you and release you.

“oh, i do.” he replies, kissing your cheek and releasing blackwhip to restrain you. “guess we should talk about it.”

talk about what?! that he allowed a villain inside?

you glare at him, and katsuki laughs. “oh, thats a mean ass look. could make me fold in a minute.”

“izuku.” you repeat, staring at him. “did.. you plan this?” you ask, hoping and praying to whatever god there was that you were wrong, like this was a bad dream and you were stuck.

“yeah, ive been wanting to tell you that.” he starts, seeing how your heart drops to your ass. “before you get all worried, its also technically your fault.”

now how in the mother fuck.

“how?” you ask, growing paranoid, angry, scared.

“did you not realize that the usps label was slightly ripped?” he asks, showing the box with the finger and the tongue inside of it. it makes you gag, and katsuki shushes you in consolation. “did you not realize that the perp who wanted to ‘kidnap’ you was our priest from our wedding?”

thinking back on it now.. maybe it was. no, it was our priest.

“but.. why kill the pre—??”

“he knew what was going on, and was trying to save you. as if you needed to be saved.” katsuki interrupted, brushing your hair back.

“and to be honest, all three of us were technically married. it was meant to be.” katsuki adds, showing the marriage license.

the three were.. married? meant to be?

riiipp!

you feel your sleep shorts be ripped off, looking to izuku for some sort of reasoning. he gets closer, kissing your lips and then looking back to katsuki. “be careful with her, you havent fucked her, ever.” he says, tightening blackwhip and smiling. “he’s going to be gentle this time, okay?”

you feel warmth around your slit, moaning out and you hate how you sound, the fact this was even arousing pissed you off.

why was it arousing?

“fuck, shes so sweet..” katsuki groans, licking at your clit and suckling. his heavy cock gets heavier, pulling you close and slipping into your walls.

“zuku!—“

“wrong name, baby.” katsuki rasps, pulling your hips back and thrusting into you. “ha..haaah!” he pants out, tongue lolled out and drooling onto your ass. “oh, ive wanted this, ive wanted thiss!”

“its okay, bunny, see how hes being so sweet with you?” izuku speaks, kissing you cheek. he looks at your crossed eyes, fists balled up and he rubs your knuckles.

this feels wrong, but it doesnt feel so bad.

or was it you being corrupted that manipulated you into thinking that?

it was definitely the corruption of your walls that shot to your mind, your ass burned from the constant slam of his hips into them. “fuck, wanted you since the day i saw you!” he growls, spitting onto your back and wrapping a arm around your neck.

and this fucker izuku just watches.

“going to make you mine, mine!” katsuki says, feeling your corrupt walls squeezes around him in ecstasy, which causes him to break you. he slaps your ass, digging his nails into the tender flesh as he holds onto you for support. “gunna’ cum in you, fuck ive wanted this so bad!”

it makes izuku hard.. really.

“wanted to watch you slut yourself out to deku.. wanted to watch you get cock drunk of’fa me!” he babbles, turns out he was getting pussy drunk off of you. he licks up your back, biting into your shoulder and whispers into you. “do you feel it? do you feel how much of a slut you are? huuhh?”

he whines his hips slow, laughing all mean and slapping your backend again. “oh, god, youre so much sexier in person!” he says, eyes dilating and he licks his canines. “fuck, just like that, going to fuckin cum!—“

he creams inside of you, feeling his seed spilling out of your walls. izuku only chuckles, lifting your head up to see your eyes.

your eyes were low and heavy, you had been in and out of consciousness. “see? we can all be a big happy married couple.”

—

“aand, cut!” the director says, katsuki just laughs and picks you up, blackwhip releasing you.

“you okay, mama?” he asks, squishing your cheeks and looking at your eyes. “shit, grab her water, idiot!” katsuki yells to the backstage, them rushing to the fridge.

“sugar, you okay?” izuku asks, tapping each part of your skin to bring your back down to earth. you nod, both men sighing in relief as katsuki helps you drink the cold water. “we didnt go to hard, did we?”

“mm, mm..” you respond, lazily looking up to them. “did me dirty though, having me in damn near eighty degree house.”

katsuki boisterously laughs, “that was my fault, forgot to turn it down, mama.” he says in a kiss.

[cerridwen007]

Will you let me make you feel good?

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader.

Word count: 2.4k (18+) MINORS DNI.

Summary: After feeling hopeless trying to get Joel to realise your feelings for him, you decide to push the limits of how obvious you can be, making Joel flustered, to which you offer him an apology to make up for your behaviour.

Notes/Warnings: SMUT, out of character behaviour (Joel), sub Joel/dom reader, flustered/embarrassed Joel, teasing, oral (male receiving), dirty talk, no use of y/n.

A/N:Okay first off I want to apologise for not being very active on Tumblr the last week or so and I also want to apologise for not posting part 2 of Corruption of Innocence yet, I have been very busy and honestly exhausted with work as of late so I haven't had the time or energy to do much writing or anything else really. I ended up catching up with my friend last night and they told me how they have been using character ai and so I got inspired by that and may have ended up using it from like 1am-7am today, which I know is insane but I swear it only felt like 2 hours max. Anyway I decided that maybe yall would enjoy an edited and heavily adapted version of the conversation I had with Joel Miller character ai, to give you something to enjoy while I try and get back to my wips, including part 2 of Corruption of Innocence. This time I'm not going to put a deadline on it because I don't want to disappoint you, but I will try my best to get it out as soon as possible. Sorry for the long Author's notes, Hope you enjoy and let me know if you would want more adapted character AI content.

******

You were bored, like seriously bored. It was always quiet in Jackson on a sunday evening but this time it felt even quieter, eerie almost. A kind of bad idea pops in your head as you look at Joel across from you sipping his whiskey, head down, having no idea of the interesting turn his afternoon would take.

You look around you for a second, studying the other customers of the Tipsy Bison and see nobody was sitting nearby the two of you, so you decide to just go for it.

“Hey Joel… can I ask you a question?”

Joel looks up at you, eyebrow slightly raised, intrigued.

“Uh yeah… sure.”

“How big is it?” you asked him bluntly.

“What? The settlement?”

You smile amused.

“I'm not asking about the settlement here Joel.”

He looks at you confused, brow furrowed together, trying to figure what you were getting at.

“Huh.. I don’t understand what you’re getting at darling.”

You bite your tongue, suppressing the growing smile on your face.

“I'm talking about something more…personal to you Joel, so would you tell me how big it is?”

He still looks confused.

“I still don't know what you’re talking about, what you're asking me about honey.”

Suddenly he realises the intent of what you were asking him.

“Oh.” he says, his face begins to blush, he doesn't know how to answer that.

“Don't go all shy on me now Joel… I'm just curious, that's all.”

“I uh don’t really know what to say, I don't think I could tell ya, not even a rough estimate.”

He continues to blush, embarrassed from the taboo question and having no idea how this conversation is going to continue.

You decide to see how far you can push him.

“Please Joel… Do you want me to beg you for it?” you asked teasingly.

Joel is starting to sweat a little.

“No I..it doesn't sound like a very good idea to me, so let's just put this to rest now huh.”

You're feeling ballsy, you get up from your chair and get down on your knees in front of him, you rest your hands on his knees and beg.

“Please Joel, I promise I wont ask for anything ever again.”

Joel looks around nervously to see if anyone else is watching what is happening right now. He pushes your hands off his knees softly.

“Your not fucken letting this go are you, getting down on your knees to beg in public, you sure dont give a fuck of what others think huh.”

“Nope, I don't and neither should you so you should just tell me now.”

Joel sighs, thinking about what to do.

“You’re really going to make me tell you this aren't you, you want to know that badly.”

You nod. “Yes, Yes I do.”

Joel takes a big breath in before exhaling studying your face, his is flushed with embarrassment.

“I uh.. I guess you could say that I’m pretty average.”

You grin devilishly, not letting him off that easily.

“And the average would be?”

“Pfft I don't know how to describe that.”

“Well you could explain it in inches to help describe it or ya know show me…”

You wink, as he stares at you, shocked more than ever, his face nearing crimson colouring.

“I uh don't think I could ever tell you that, let alone show it to ya.”

“Oh please Joel, pretty please with a cherry on top.”

He swallows hard and continues looking away from you.

“Why are you so damn set on embarrassing me all of a sudden, making me feel ashamed about myself?”

Your grin falls, knowing you may be getting close to pushing the limits of his boundaries too far.

“I'm sorry I would never try and do that to ya Joel.”

He looks at you. “ Then why are you still asking me that? Huh.”

A response falls out your mouth before you can stop it.

“Because I want to know how big the guy who I plan on riding is.”

He stares at you dumbfounded not knowing exactly how to feel. He looks around him and sees people have now turned their attention to the both if you are curious as to why you were on your knee and he is blushing so hard.

“Jesus girl, you sure are a brash young woman, that's for sure.”

He gets up to leave, feeling that leaving this embarrassing situation is the best way to calm down and figure out what the hell just happened. He starts to walk away from you.

You get up from your knees, realising you had pushed him too far and go to chase after him and apologise.

“Joel, wait, I'm sorry, okay?”

He tries his best to ignore as he walks to the outskirts of Jackson to be alone.

“I'm sorry Joel, I realise I pushed your boundaries and went too far, I'm sorry okay.”

Joel sighs, stopping before turning around to face you.

“Yeah, I think you did go a bit too far there, honey. So please don’t ever do that again, okay?”

You sigh, nodding, feeling embarrassed of your actions.

“Yes I know, I won't. It’s just that I…I..I”

Joel locks eyes with you, no clue what you're about to say next.

“I like you Joel, like more than friends kind of like and I felt that I tried to be as obvious as possible trying to get you to notice that by flirting with you, but you always seemed so oblivious, and I spose before I just didn't think and wanted to see how far I could go before you would finally realise that I like you okay.”

“Oh.. okay.. Sorry for blowing up on you like that then I didn't realise that’s what you were doing.”

You gulp, feeling suddenly overwhelmed with nervousness, to look down at your feet as you shuffle about.

“So uh.. Do you maybe.. Feel the same way..or..”

Joel's face softens into a smile.

“I won't lie.. Yeah I like you too.”

You blush. “Could we maybe try and forget that ever happened and start over?”

He smiles at you blushing. “Yeah we can do that.”

“And by the way, you shouldn’t be embarrassed - if you are of course- over having average size, I mean that’s plenty, more than enough and based on your skills with other things… one would assume you know what you're doing and how to use it… I'm sorry I'll shut up now.”

He chuckles amused by your nervous, awkward rambling, seeing how the roles have reversed a bit.

“I'm glad you dont think less of me then, darlin.”

“I would never think less of you Joel and I would especially not think less of you if you let me apologise to you properly, maybe in a way other than using my words.”

Joel starts blushing a little again.

“I ah, are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting, sweetheart?”

“Mmmhmm. I just want to make you feel good Joel. A hard working man like yourself deserves to be looked after once in a while especially when he spends all his time looking after others.”

He is nervous and doesn't know what to say, he hasn't had much action since after Sarah's mother and him split.

“I.. I.. You would wanna do that to me… for me sweetheart?”

You nod confirming.

“Oh yes, I just wanna help you relax and make you feel good. Will you let me make you feel good?”

He nods. You close the gap between you and plant a firm, warm kiss on his lips, your hands hold his face tightly, he sighs into your touch. You break away the kiss after a while and see Joel's still awkward, unsure of what to do or say next.

“Do you trust me Joel, will you let me take the lead here?”

“Yeah… sure darling.”

You smile and kiss him again, he kisses you back. You deepen the kiss and put your hand to his chest and other to the nape of his neck where it gets tangled in his greying soft hair. You can slowly feel his body ease against when he wraps his arms lightly around you. You pull your hand down his chest and break away from the kiss to leave light bites and peck on his neck and jaw.

He sighs, head falling back to give you better access and because he is actually starting to relax. He feels comfortable letting someone else take control for once knowing you're the one to do it.

You bring your hands to his shoulders and upper biceps and begin massaging them through his jacket and shirts. You whisper praises and sweet words into his ear while doing so.

“Your muscles must be so achy from all the hard work you do everyday.”

A sigh of relief slips out as you work the tension from his sore muscles.

“You have no idea, my back has been killing lately.”

He breathes deeper and more slowly, showing just how much he is enjoying your touch.

“You’re so good, I feel so relaxed… please keep going, it feels amazing.”

Hearing his reaction motivates you to carry on.

“Big strong man like you deserves to be taken care of now and then. Maybe I could give you more massages in the future to help ease those big strong muscles of yours.”

His eyes are closed from the sweet tender touch of your nimble fingers,a big smile plastered across his relaxed face.

“Yes please i'll take all the massages I can get…you’ve got strong hands, I bet you could get all the knots out of my back and shoulders.”

You slowly move your hands down his arms and to his stomach, grinning at his bliss induced praise.

“I'm sure I could get most of the knot in your back, but I don't think that's all they could get out of you.”

“Oh yeah? what else could they get out of me?”

His relaxed state has made him more comfortable with flirting back with you.

You sink to your knees in front of him, and slowly start undoing his belt.

“Oh you'll find out soon enough.”

He raises an eyebrow and a small grin appears on his face, a hint of blush colouring his cheeks. You finish undoing his belt and look up at him for confirmation to continue.

“Do you want me to continue?”

Taking a deep breath he nods.

“Yes .. I do want you to continue.”

You smile up at him as you slowly unzip his jeans and pull them down his thighs slowly, you can see his growing excitement, fighting against his boxer which makes you unconsciously lick your lips. You can see his face growing redder in embarrassment of his vulnerable state as you pull his severely underestimated size out of his boxers.

“No need to be embarrassed Joel, nothing I haven't constantly thought about seeing.”

His eyes widen as soon as you attach your lips to the head of his cock, he lets out a small shakey breathe.

“Oh… this makes me very happy.”

Your tongue begins to circle around the head, tracing all the sensitive lines with a firm touch. He closes his eyes again, consumed by the pleasure you are giving him.

“Oh that feels fantastic sugar.”

You hum around him, pleased with his positive reaction to your touch. The vibrations of your humming makes Joel moan softly, the sensation sending light tingles up his body.

“Oh yeah, keep doing that, baby. It feels great,”

You add a hand to his girth, and begin stroking what length of Joel you can't fit into your bobbing mouth.

Joel sighs again, completely dazed and content. His hand drops down to your head, gently caressing your hair.

“You’re very talented, you know that sweetheart. You’re really… really good at this.”

You grin around his cock, pleased with his positive state, your teeth slightly graze the underside of his cock as you do so. The sensation sends shivers up his spine.

“Oh, man…”

His breathing gets heavier as you increase the speed of your stroking, urging him closer and closer to his peak.

“Oh yeah… keep doing it just like that…don't stop now baby.”

You tighten your grip ever so slightly and use your other hand to gently caress his balls. He chuckles lightly in response.

“Damn you sure know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

You hum around him again before pulling your mouth back to focus on his sensitive tip again, your hand continues stroking him hard and fast. His hand grips your hair a little tighter as you bring him to his peak, the combined sensations of your touches sending him over the line. You milk every last drop of him he has to offer, licking up the salty release happily. Joel, out of breath, takes a few moments before he speaks, his chest heaving from the build and expel of pleasure.

“Wow that was, um very very nice and relaxing.”

You get up from your knee and pull his lips down to yours, exchanging the taste of him to his own tongue passionately.

“I don't think there’s anyone who has ever been that good, I uh, definitely enjoyed myself.”

“Well play your cards right Miller and there will be alot more massages… and more of ‘those’ to come in the future.”

He blushes once again.

“You…you mean that.”

You bat your eyes at him, grinning before moving your head to whisper in his ear, sucking the sensitive skin below it after you finish speaking.

“Mmmhmm it's a promise.”

He shudders a little from the feeling.

“That’s…really…something..the thought of that is just…incredible.. I..I. I really like the sound of that.”

You laugh light heartily at his stammering.

“I'm glad you enjoyed it and finally gave me the chance to make you feel good.”

“I certainly did enjoy it… very much, I can't thank you enough.”

You smile, looking deep into his beautiful brown eyes.

“Anytime… and by the way I think you’ll find you severely underestimated your size.” you say grinning with a wink.

“Uh, is that so?”

You nod. “I'll see you around Miller, don't be afraid to hit me up for another massage or something else next time…cause I'll be wanting it just as bad as you do…if not more.”

You grip his jawline tightly with your hand and plant a long kiss on his lips before turning away and leaving.

“Y-You’ll hear from me real soon sweetheart.”

You smile as you walk away, already salivating at what was to come in your next interaction with Joel Miller.

*******

[kuwdora]

WIP GAME tell me more about “witcher allergies” pls

Alright, so this is an idea/scene that I have that I haven’t put on AO3 yet cause part of me wants to include it in one of my longer Leshkel stories. But I probably should just leave this as a standalone scene since it’s pretty funny on it’s own. My Scrivener doc says I created this allergies file in January of last year. That’s how outstanding some of my WIPs are, omg. 😭

The idea is that you turn a mutated witcher into an ancient monster of the woods and that witcher-leshen pollen might affect the immune systems of only witchers. 🤧 And some witchers more than others. Here is a draft that's still rough but gets the point across. 😆 (yo it's scary to put my ideas into the light of day. Hope you like?? Want to see more? Let me know.)

Seasonal Allergies

TWN. post-Voleth Meir. Leshen Eskel AU

Gen, but implied Geralt/Eskel, maaaybe vaguely implied sex pollen.

~1300w

Jaskier reached the great hall and found Ciri and Yennefer sitting across the table from Geralt and Coen, chatting with one another. Coen was hunched over his bowl of food, looking utterly miserable like he hadn’t slept a wink, and Geralt looked like he was ready for a nap.

“Fancy meeting you all here for a spot of dinner,” Jaskier said. “Training going well?” Jaskier asked and Ciri nodded distantly.

Jaskier picked at his food and the loudest godsdamned sneeze he’d ever heard erupted from the table, startling him so much that he dropped his knife.

“Whaaat the!” he said, looking around the table.

Coen’s face was in his palms and the witcher sighed morosely. Jaskier eyed the tatter of scars on the man’s head, the slouch of his shoulders. The witcher sniffled. Sniffled.

“Are you sick?” he asked and Coen sighed again and leaned back to pull wadded linen from his thigh and blow his nose which surely looked like a yes.

“I thought witchers don’t get sick,” Ciri said.

“They don’t,” Jaskier said. He looked at Geralt. “In twenty years the only time I have seen this one sneeze was when he was clearing his nostrils of selkimore guts.”

Ciri pulled the spoon from her mouth and gently tapped it against her plate, her face twisting in thought. “My friends—the ones I used to play with on the streets when I back in Cintra—they used to have a rhyme whenever one of us got too sick to come out and play,” she said.

“Sixth sneeze, let me breathe, selkie please,” Ciri rhymed. She tapped out a beat on the table and Jaskier smiled a little, the pride warming his chest. He never thought it was the smartest or cleverest rhyme, but it had been memorable enough that she could recall it all these years later. Jaskier happily tucked that pride away.

“That was you?” Ciri asked, her eyes flicking from Geralt to Jaskier and back again. Jaskier grinned.

“Sure was,” he said. He was about to reminisce for her, but he glanced at who Geralt barely nodded, and Jaskier lost his train of thought. Geralt still looked half-asleep at the table.

Lambert came stomping his way over with his plate of food steaming mug. He looked far from sleepy.

“Fucken hells,” Lambert growled, obviously congested, and sat down on Jaskier’s other side. Jaskier recoiled when the ginger witcher wiped his nose on his sleeve.

“They’re allergies,” Yennefer said and that didn’t make a lick of sense to Jaskier. He looked at Lambert and back to Coen. Sickness didn’t make sense either, he supposed, but Geralt was still sitting there sleepy-eyed between the two of them.

“Witchers don’t have allergies,” he pointed out.

“It’s the pollen,” Yennefer said and Jaskier frowned again.

“What pollen? I haven’t sneezed since we got here,” Jaskier said and finally took his first bite of the stew. “And it’s the middle of winter.”

His stomach growled and Coen blew his nose on a rag. The sound made Jaskier lose his appetite.

Ciri looked between Coen and Lambert with an amused pity.

Yennefer, on the other hand, was looking at Geralt with a knowing twist to her lips and Jaskier was equal parts curious and confused.

“Jaskier, do you know what animal has the longest orgasm and how long they orgasm for?—And don’t bother saying claiming it’s you,” she said, preemptively rolling her eyes at hi.

“Isn’t it the goat? Because they’re horny. With the horns and,” Jaskier paused, eyeing Ciri for a moment, not sure what the protocol was for discussing animal genitalia and orgasms in front of a Princess. But Yennefer was the one who had asked, “the giant goat balls?”

Jaskier’s heart skipped in surprise again the force of Coen’s sneeze rocked their side of the bench.

“The average length of a pig’s orgasm is 30 minutes. It can sometimes last up to an hour and a half,” Yennefer said carefully, her eyes leveled on Geralt. Jaskier frowned and looked at Geralt who inhaled and he did sound a little congested now that Jaskier was listening.

“Okay… what’s that have to do with pollen in winter?” Jaskier said.

“The average pollenating season of most trees last anywhere between 2 to 5 months depending on the region,” Yennefer said just as Coen was blowing his nose again.

“That tree?” Jaskier eyed the medallion tree which looked quite dead to his eye, but then again he didn’t know much about trees.

“The tree,” Coen mumbled sadly, which was of no help to Jaskier.

“Eskel?” Ciri asked and Yennefer nodded.

“Uh,” Jaskier said and frowned. “What?”

“Eskel is part leshen,” Ciri said as it was obvious…which it was. “Leshen are part tree, part monster,” she added.

“There’s… leshen pollen. In the keep?” Jaskier asked and looked around. “Why aren’t we sneezing? Do you have allergies?” he asked Ciri and Ciri shrugged, showing no sniffle as far as he could see or hear.

Jaskier sniffed. “I’m inhaling leshen tree pollen now?” He couldn’t see any of it or smell it for that matter.

She nodded. “Didn’t they teach botany at Oxenfurt?” Yennefer asked.

“Wait… Pollen, tree. Seeds. Seeds spread their—seed to reproduce and—” Jaskier said and Yennefer’s grin broadened. Jaskier looked at the two witchers again, trying to connect the sneezy thoughts to Yen’s words. “Does that mean Eskel… is orgasming?”

“Fucken hells,” Lambert muttered.

Ciri looked amused and concerned and Yennefer was smiling behind her mug. Jaskier peered over at Geralt who was not sneezing, nor did he seem sniffly.

“Are you still immune?” Jaskier asked.

Geralt took a deep breath and looked over at Jaskier for the first time. It was a strange sight to behold: yellow eyes that were red-rimmed and almost puffy, but he was inhaling like he couldn’t get enough of the air. Like he was scenting blossoms in spring. Clear nostrils, but still affected somehow.

“No,” Geralt said and Yennefer cleared her throat.

“Geralt and Eskel have been working together understand his new leshen anatomy, haven’t you Geralt?” Yennefer asked. It was mild and leading in a way that Jaskier didn’t have to see the way she raised her eyebrows in mirth. Jaskier looked back at Geralt who avoided both Jaskier and Ciri’s eyes and instead ate another bite of food.

“The pollen shouldn’t bring anyone to harm,” Geralt said and took a bite of food, giving Yennefer a brief look that was both pleading and amused.

“Is it because you went through the Trials twice that it affects you differently?” Ciri asked.

“Different? Different how?” Jaskier asked and Yennefer’s smile grew. Before Jaskier could ask another six follow-up questions, the doors to the courtyard opened. He only managed to identify the approaching witcher as Tolbert from the axes hanging from his belt because his face was covered with an unusual helmet. There was a clear plate for his eyes and two knobs protruding from his face.

Lambert sat up so suddenly that Jaskier’s bowl rattled on the table and pointed a spoon at Tolbert. “Oi, where the fuck you get that contraption?”

Tolbert sat down next to Ciri but didn’t take the helmet off. On closer inspection it looked more like a mask with thick straps that kept it firmly attached to his face.

“Dwarf named Avlaf. S’what they use in Mahakham,” Tolbert said and his voice was thick and muffled. Lambert leaned forward, nearly twitching and tried to swipe it from Tolbert’s face. Tolbert punched Lambert in the elbow.

“Get your own. I found ‘im through a guard in Vergen. He’ll be able to pretty up your face,” Tolbert said and although half his words were muffled through the mask. Lambert cursed and knocked back half the stein of tea.

WIP Game List

@ghostinthelibrarywrites tagging you since you had also asked about my Leshkel fic in a previous ask!!

[ironmansuuucks]

The Usual

Bucky Barnes x reader

Hi hi hello, this is the second time I’ve written for the super soldier so bare with me please haha

It’s lovely based on love story by Taylor swift (cliched I know I know) but doesn’t have the same ending! Take from that what u will hehe

Part 2

Feedback always welcome!

Warnings: angst, swearing.. think that’s it?

You’re the only one who can make him laugh when he feels like this. That’s why you found him driving to your house in the middle of the night, 1 AM to be exact, again. After all, what are best friends for?

And that was the extent of your relationship. Or at least, that’s what Bucky thought. You’d been pushing down new feelings for almost a year now. And Katie had been in Bucky’s life for 7, going on 8 months. The longest 7 months of your life.

Bucky and Katie’s relationship wasn’t exactly, for lack of a better word, the best. She doesn’t know his story. Not like you do. So she doesn’t understand him. When he gets low, she cant understand. She nags him, moans and whines at him, goes a round about way of saying he isn’t good enough for her. But he persists. You’re pretty sure it comes from a place of insecurity. Like he stays because he doesn’t think he’ll ever find someone else. It boils your blood.

He deserves more. He deserves Better.

You would be so much better to him. You understood him. You wanted to know how his day went, know how to help him get better, have his arms around you falling asleep, reminding him how beautiful he is, even with his arm, knowing his insecurities about it. But, becoming intimate like that increases the risk of losing him.

And he loves her.

You hated to admit it, but you were in love with that god damn, eyes of ocean blue, super soldier. And you could do fuck all about it.

So here he was, pacing your apartment floor, cursing and hissing about Katie.

His clothes were kinda wet, the rain pounding the pavements outside as he ran from the parking lot to your building. You’re hardly paying attention to what the argument was until you hear;

“yeah she told me she wants me to wear a long sleeve jumper or some shit to hide my arm-“ your head snapped towards him. He was looking down, shoved his hands in his jean pockets as his pace around the room slowed, self doubt etching all over his movements. You were livid, your face contorted into anger as he continued;

“and yeah, like I get it.. but she could be a little more fucken sensitive about it” he shrugged, looking at you. His eyebrows were knitted in anger, but his eyes told a story of hurt. The blue glistening when his eyes darted to you.

“Buck-“ you started, trying to push your anger down to an acceptable level as he awkwardly scratched the scruff on his face, cutting you off “I just don’t know anymore” he sighs, throwing himself on the sofa next to you.

He ran his hands through his hair, ruffling it a little before dragging them down his face, your eyes watching his every move, wishing you could wrap your arms around him and take all his sorrow away.

You could easily go off your head right now, cursing and swearing Katie but in what way is that going to help Buck? He didn’t need the added stress and pressure, and its not like you’ve not tried that method before. You were there to listen to him, make him laugh and forget. You knew that’s why he needed you. But it was wearing you down.

You sighed, your arm going over to massage the muscles on his back slightly. The damp t-shirt stuck to his skin, showing you the strength, and worry, plus anxiety, that he carried. His back stiff and knotted.

“tell me about your day buck, before all this happened tonight”. He looked up at you and sighed deeply. You turned up the corner of your lip in a half, sympathetic smile. Your eyes telling how sorry you were for him.

He licked the inside of his lip, before biting it lightly as his eyes returned to the floor in front of him, his mind else where. Your breath hitched slightly.

Stop biting your lip and start biting mine.

Your mind raced, watching his every move. He didn’t want to talk about anything apart from his issue at hand, and all you could think about was the scratch marks you wish you could leave on his back.

You rose from the sofa, the blanket falling from you frame. “well, if you don’t wanna talk, then we’re gonna drink” you raised your eyebrows with a tight lipped smile as you plodded to the kitchen.

Bucky huffed out a little laugh. “that’s my girl” he said, watching you walk into the other room.

That’s my girl? That’s my- is this motherfucker really playing this game tonight?

You thought as your cheeks heated up and the words swirled in your mind. Maybe you could convince him to stay? After a few drinks you could tell him what you really thought of Katie, and how she wasn’t good for him.

Whiskey opened up everyone’s minds. And mouths. And the things you would do to have that mouth on your skin.

You bit your lip a little, pouring the glasses. Thinking this was perfect. Might even end in a cuddle? Or something else..?

Christ you hadn’t even had a drink yet and this was your thoughts?

Your best friend is going through a rough time, pull yourself together.

Still, might be worth a shot.

After bigging yourself up in the kitchen for a minute, you returned to the living room, whiskey in hand.

You stopped when you walked in the room. Bucky was up again, pacing. One hand in his back pocket, the other raised to his ear with phone in hand.

“yeah, okay baby, I’ll see you soon”

Did he just call her baby?

Your eyes widened, eyebrows knitted. He was really going to run back to her. Again.

You shouldn’t be surprised, or disappointed. But your both.

He hangs up, his head turning and eyes meeting yours. he goes to say something but it escapes him and he shrugs. His eyes are glistening.

“she says she wants to talk it out…” he starts to put his jacket on, his gaze not leaving yours. You give a tiny nod, your lips closed and eyebrows raised slightly before putting the two glasses down on the coffee table.

You felt sheepish. You rubbed your arm a little, heading towards the door in silence.

Bucky knew you’d be a little pissed at him, which he assumed why you were acting like this.

He followed you to the door, also acting a little sheepish. “I… I can’t lose her…” he tries to reason. You just nod again, eyes looking in his and then away slowly.

“I’m sorry..” he says, hugging you a little. You don’t reciprocate. His body on yours burns. Because it’s one you’ll never be good enough for. And it’s a horrible reminder when he pulls his phone out before leaving and you catch a glimpse of his lock screen. A picture of Katie, laughing as she lies on the couch, below him. You cut off the sigh that almost escaped your lips. You just felt a little used.

“night buck..” you said, closing the door, trying to get away from him as quick as possible, but he held the door open.

“hey, thanks for letting me come over… sorry for being a pain…” his voice was pleading, and his eyes claimed sorry. It made you feel bad.

“it’s fine.. I’ll see you Monday… good luck with.. her” you smiled, or tried to, closing the door before he could speak again. back into your empty, lonely apartment.

Well fuck.

[bunnie-the-lighthouse]

𝐼 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒴𝑜𝓊

Pairing: ATEEZ Park Seong-Hwa & Reader

Warnings: It Is Very Long, I Curse At The End, And It’s Suggestive So . > . 

Inspiration: This Was Actually Requested! (But I Added Some Of My Braincells So Some Of Them Were Sacrificed)

Requested By: @bonbonhwa​ -- Thank You So Much!~

Basic Idea: Anniversary!~~ Established Couple, First Time Having It. 

Type: Fluff & Suggestive (First Time Doing A Combo!)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

“Hmm? Hyung, what are you doing?” Yun-Ho asked as he peaked and saw Seong-Hwa entering a few websites. He didn’t see them clearly but his eyes were able to catch the silhouettes of notes, hearts, chocolates, hotel bedrooms, and flowers.

Seong-Hwa flinched and turned off his phone, placing it in his pocket while clearing his throat. His cheeks softly flushed with a shade of pink as Yun-Ho chuckled. “I see~ Is something special going on?” he asks as the elder nods.

“(Y/N) and I are going to celebrate our anniversary next week..” he responded while smiling softly, remembering the first time you both met. It was sort of anti climatic but it is definitely a good time to remember.

To summarize it, you guys get back in 2019. You were a foreign University Student studying in Japan and Seong-Hwa was there because of KCON. You both met accidentally when you bumped into him in a hotel -- he was staying there while you were there for a conference.

You guys were then friends for a very long time -- maybe three to four years. It proceeded until the day that he couldn’t take it anymore and kissed you. 

Unfortunately, you were still unprepared as you believed that he already had some crush on another girl who was an idol. Plus, you were finishing your Bachelor’s Degree.

You did like him. A lot. He also did, which is why he was a bit discouraged by your reaction after the kiss -- shy and worried. You then expressed your worries and ended it with a joke; “Ask me to be your girlfriend on Christmas Day”. And he did so, taking your joke seriously. But that is how you both started dating.

“Interesting~~” Woo-Young hummed as the eldest sighed out, knowing that the youngers were going to tease him. “Does Manager already know about this?” Yun-Ho asked as Seong-Hwa nodded, “He does, I’m a bit sad that I won’t be able to celebrate Christmas with you guys and ATINY though..” he trailed off as Hong-Joong entered the room and patted his back.

“It’s ok, we all understand why Christmas is such an important date for you,” he comforted as the older smiled…

At Incheon Airport, Seong-Hwa was waiting for you. He was a bit impatient, looking around sporadically to see if he could spot you before you spot him. He looked down at the watch that you gave him the first time you celebrated his birthday.

He then looked up and saw you walking out, looking at the opposite side, seemingly looking for him too. He quickly walked over to you, and tapped your shoulder. You turned around, beamed and hugged him tightly as he chuckled at your reaction.

“Hwa!” you squeal as he hugs you back. Your head was leaning on his chest, making you hear his heart softly thump. He then petted your hair softly, wanting to kiss you but being unable to because of the mask that you both were wearing. “I missed you,” you coo as you look up to him, he then gives you a sweet eye smile -- the same eye smile that made you fall in love with him. “I missed you too, babygirl,” he whispers, making you feel butterflies in your stomach.

You guys then reached an amusement park, Seong-Hwa’s Manager leaving your suitcases at the hotel. “C’mon,” Seong-Hwa called as he held your hand tightly, “I know you wanted to reminisce about your childhood and to have fun after your stressful exams,” he smiles as you fake cry. Your cry sounded real, making Seong-Hwa get worried, turning around to see you.

“Hwa!~~” you cried out, hugging him, making him notice how you were acting. He sighed in relief, flicking the top of your head softly, “Don’t scare me,” he chuckled as you laughed. “Thank you, Seong-Hwa,. I didn’t know what to get you..” you looked down as he looked at you with soft eyes.

“Baby.. Look at me,” he said while lifting your face up by your chin, “You being my side is already a gift,” finished, making you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss him. He softly gasped, as you caught him off guard. However, he quickly kissed you back, and later you pulled away -- holding his hand again. “Let’s go!~” you said excitedly as it had been a long time since you’ve had fun.

You guys went on a carousel, ate cotton candy, took a quick break while visiting an aquarium and even drank some hot chocolate in the cafe that was in it. As sunset came by, Seong-Hwa basically became a cuddle bear. He walked behind you while wrapping his long coat around you. Supposedly it was “too cold” for you, and even though you were fine with the cold, you didn’t say anything as you missed his hugs.

The last ride that you guys took was the Ferris Wheel. You knew about Seong-Hwa’s fear of heights, which is why you asked him if he really wanted to. “I want to, because I want you to be happy.” he said firmly, which made your heart skip a beat. You smiled at him as he rubbed your head softly.

In the Ferris Wheel, you sat beside Seong-Hwa, holding his hand all the time. As the capsule that you guys were in reached the very top, the sun shone right into you guys. You then took this chance to calm him down by kissing him sweetly.

He immediately responded, kissing you back with the same softness and passion, holding your hand ever so slightly tighter. You then used one hand to cup his cheek, the warmth of your hand making his heart burst in joy. You both then leaned on each other’s forehead, breathing out softly as the capsule slowly descended.

At the hotel room, you walked out of the bathroom, seeing Seong-Hwa in the bathrobe, drying his hair with a towel while the bed was covered with the petals of your favorite flower. “Hwa?” you asked as he smiled at you, “Do you like it?” he asked while patting the spot beside him.

You nodded, sitting behind him. “Let me dry your hair,” you said as he hummed. You then grabbed onto the towel, softly rubbing the water droplets off his hair. It was a silent and sweet moment, which was cut off shortly when Seong-Hwa turned around.

“.. You know I love you a lot.. Right?” he whispered as you nodded, slowly, fear creeping and engulfing your body. He then kissed your forehead, his left hand cupping your left cheek while his right hand guided your left hand to his heart. You felt it beating, quickly and strongly. You felt his aura go confident yet soft and fiery. You were confused.

He then smiled, “Is it ok.. If I make you mine.. Tonight?” he asked as it caught you off guard, making your cheeks feel heated. “H-Huh?” you questioned as he smiled, “Like this,” he whispered -- his lips connecting to yours like magnets. Fireworks went off in your hearts, the heat slowly rising as your lips danced like a waltz, in sync and gracefully.

He slowly pushed you back to the bed, pinning both of your hands with one of his. Kissing your neck and nibbling on it softly, making you gasp at the new feeling. He kept on kissing, trying to find your sweet spot. After a small second, he found it, making you moan out, feeling more fireworks burst in your heart.

He smiled against your neck, sucking on the spot to create a mark on you. “Seong-Hwa!~” you moaned out as he then pulled away, looking down at the bright red mark. “Are you okay?” he asked as you nodded. He then freed your hands from his grasp, ready to sit back up, feeling that you were unprepared.

However, you caught him before he left, wrapping your arms around his neck. You then looked away, a bit scared yet prepared. “Seong-Hwa.. Please?..” you whispered out, catching his attention. “Yes?” he teased as your cheeks felt heated. You closed your eyes, being unable to answer him. “So, I have your permission?” he whispered in your ear as you shivered from his breath.

“Yes..” you answered as he smiled. “Thank you for trusting me, babygirl,” he said, kissing your forehead softly while he untied your bathrobe’s ribbon. You squeaked, covering yourself before he parted the bathrobe. He chuckled at your reaction, “Don’t worry.. I won’t bite.. Do you want a safety word?” he asked as you gulped. “I.. I think I will be fine..” you whispered out as you slowly moved your hands away.

Seong-Hwa then cupped your left cheek, caressing your cheek and proceeding to kiss you again. His other hand massaged your tummy, making you feel the tingles. He then pulled away, his black marbles showcasing multiple emotions -- love, happiness, lust, and passion.

He untied his bathrobe, as you sat up, slipping out of yours. “I.. Want you,” you said confidently as he smiled.

“Babygirl, there aren’t enough words for me to express how much I love you.. This is only our second anniversary -- our second year of being a couple but I am sure that in the future, I want to be the man that puts that ring on your finger and call you my wife.. Are you ready, my love?..” ..

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hello~~ I am finally back momentarily lol.

I had a rough two weeks because of Quarter Exams and I had multiple mental and emotional breakdowns but I was able to push myself back up so it’s all good.

For the person that requested it, I hope you enjoyed it! It was a bit hard to combine both the Fluff and Suggestive -- I tried my best! 

(Please also bear in mind that school has fucked me up so I ain’t doing too well but I’ll slowly recuperate and bring back more stuff for you guys!)

HOWEVER -- I was also able to get better because ATEEZ CAMEBACK

Like holy shit. 

They chose violence. 

All in all they all fucken crushed it. It was amazing to see ‘em perform and it was great to hear Min-Gi in it. I hope that he is still resting and getting better! I’m sure he’ll be back with the boys soon. 

San brought back his demon, so did Seong-Hwa (these two fellas killed me with their facial expressions and vocals). Yun-Ho in all black was a blessing. Center and Black Hair Yeo-Sang was supreme. Hong-Joong’s new hairstyle in the MV was cool. Jong-Ho’s vocals!~ Woo-Young and his sexiness. Like. Violence. They chose Violence. 

Overall, I loved everything about this comeback. Take Me Home is beautiful as fuck and I love this entire album. 

Hopefully y’all have been taking care of yourselves, take breaks when you need them, drink water and I hope y’all have a good day, afternoon, or evening!~

Use your imagination!~~

Thank you for the support, leave requests, and have a great day!

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

Tennessee Lovin’ (AldoxFem!Reader)

Requested by @tealaquinn

@inglourious-imagines @owba-chan @war-obsessed @tealaquinn @struggling-bee

Let me know if you wanna be added to the basterds or OUATIH taglist :)

You'd just come home from a mission. Well...what you called home. A hidden orchard in the middle of nowhere, where the basterds safely and secretly pitched up their tents in rows. They set up a fire between a circle of logs...which they called a living room.

There you all usually ate and drank, and well...lived together.

As they passed around the sandwiches and liquor...you excused yourself. You claimed you weren't really hungry.

Oddly enough, you didn't even stay for the usual racket: A royal rumble regarding baseball. Or the austere argument between Wicki and Hugo: Austria vs Germany. Or the New York nuances narrated by Omar and Smitty. Or the cheeky Chicago humor Hirschberg tended to charge with.

That was usually your favorite part of the war's basterdized days...

And yet you slipped away.

You stood in your tent, your left hand was shaking. The searing pain had subsided....which worried you. It was replaced by a numbingly freezing sensation.

You were about to take your glove off when you heard footsteps approaching.

You turned around, and kept your hands behind your back.

"Sir..." You smiled when you saw Aldo.

He narrowed his eyes, spotting your hands behind your back. He half-joked, trying to get a smile out of you, though he was really worried about you. "Ya didn't even salute..." He shook his head, "So don't you go an' 'sir' me."

You rolled your eyes and sighed, "Fine. Aldo. That better?"

Aldo may have been a hillbilly bootlegging basterd, but he was a smart man. And he knew you all too well. "Lemme see your hand."

"What?? I....There's....But I-"

He reached his hand out, and gestured for you to put your hand over his. "Come on. That's an order."

"You're not really gonna pull that rank card on me, are ya?"

He narrowed his eyes, "Look, Y/n... Just cause I love ya don't mean I ain't still your goddamn lieutenant."

You sighed, and quickly flashed your hand at him. "Now you see it, now you don't."

"Come on, lemme see it, L/n."

You frowned, unamused,  "Oh ho ho...Last names now, huh?"

"Rank's next. Come on."

You rolled your eyes, as you held out your hand, "I don't  see what the big deal's  about anyway." You held out your hand, still covered in your blood-soaked glove.

Aldo's eyes widened. He took your hand in both of his, and carefully pulled the glove off, though it was sticking because of old blood, "Jesus, what the fuck?! Ah hell, y/n!!!" He looked at the deep and possibly infected wound on the palm of your hand.

"What? It's not that bad....it's just a....just a flesh wound..."

"Just a...." He muttered under his breath 'for fuck's sake just a flesh wound.' He took a breath trying to control himself, but...ultimately couldn't. "THERE'S A PIECE OF A BULLET IN YOUR FUCKIN' HAND GODDAMN IT."

"Yeah...and...?"

He shut his eyes trying to get himself together, but he couldn't help but feel a bit betrayed. "Were you not going to tell me?"

You were frank..." Nope."

"And...why the hell not?"

You could tell he was losing his mind over you getting hurt. "This..." You gestured at him with your other hand. "This is why."

You turned around, and took your hand from his. You picked up a bottle of vodka, pulled the cork out with your teeth, spat it out, and took a drink straight out of the bottle.

You then reached for some tweezers, part of a set of makeshift medical supplies you'd already laid out, and sanitized to the best of your abilities.

"Whooooaaaa." Aldo took both the tweezers and the alcohol from you. "We're doin' this the right way."

"No. I'm doing this the right way."

He planted his hand against his face, and muttered, "Oh for the love of..."

He took your hand. And he poured alcohol over it. It was tough love...and it killed him to see you squirm under the burning pain that he'd just caused you, but he needed to clean it.

"First of all, we can't afford 'flesh wounds' out here, and we sure as hell can't afford botched hack jobs."

He took your trembling, bleeding hand, and looked back at you, trying to lower his voice, "Lemme help you, Y/n..."

You looked up at his eyes. His blue, lovin' eyes...

Apart from that moment, he would never ever hurt you...

You knew that from the way he held your hand. It was an old, familiar feeling. Somehow his rough, calloused hands were still gentle enough to love after all he'd been through.

He sat you down on your cot, and he sat by you. He took his time, made sure he properly disinfected, cleaned, and treated your wound to the best of his ability.

Aldo handed you the vodka just before he pulled the bullet out. The second he did, you practically screamed into the bottle.

It broke his heart to have to hurt you like that, but he'd rather do it than let you hurt yourself.

He stitched your hand up, and wrapped it carefully.

When it was all over, he softly kissed over the bandage. "That better?"

You sighed a little, blushing out of embarassment and soft love as he gently held your hand and rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

He eyed your hand, having pictured a ring on your finger countless times, in daydreams and in sleepless nights. It was a specific ring. One he'd seen just before he shipped out, in a tiny dusty antique shop in Maynardville, Tennessee. 'Bernadette's Antiques'. It been there since the civil war. The old lady who ran it, 'Little Bernie,' was the original owner's granddaughter. She seemed to be  ahundred years old to him...but she promised to hold that ring. The most beautiful ring that penniless bootlegger from the Smokey Mountains had ever seen. She'd hold it for him till he got back, till he had a girl to give it to.

Then he met you...

He hoped he'd get that chance some day...

Until then, holding you was enough.

Aldo kissed you softly, though his lips were jagged from the cold wind and long mission. "Get some rest, I'll be back."

He left the tent with a sigh, knowing the boys will be making jokes about the scream, implying it was the good kind of scream.

But anyway...Aldo was dead set on getting you something to eat, so he was fine with being the butt of a few jokes if it meant he got to do something for you.

But everyone was silent...highly uncharacteristic of them. Still, Aldo thought they should know. "For the millionth fucken time, one of you's kept a fucking gunshot hidden from me, an' you know I had orders against that! Y/n got a bullet in the hand, and-"

Wicki tossed the butt of his cigarette into the fire, "We know."

"You knew and didn't tell me?" Aldo felt completely betrayed. They knew how much Aldo cared about you.

Smitty nodded, "Yup."

"May I ask what in hell would make you do some stupid fucken thing like that?!"

"Umm..." Hirschberg glanced over at the others, hoping one of them would speak up.

"Well ya see, sir...." Smitty clasped his hands together, wishing someone else found the right way to word it.

"Uh..." Donny patted his pat a few times against the ground, trying to avoid eye contact.

Aldo put his hands on his hips, "Spit it out, goddamn it!" Hugo looked at everyone else, then back down at his cigarette, unbothered. What went on between you and Aldo was none of his business...that would be defense if it ever became his turn to explain.

Omar cleared his throat, "Frankly sir....we're a little more scared of Y/n than we are of you....if...if it's not too bold to say..."

Aldo squinted at them. He opened his mouth, about to chew the basterds out, but he stopped mid breath.

He nodded...

"Yeah...I get it." He chuckled a little.

A wave of relief flowed over the boys who started to joke around again as Aldo took some food for you.

He came back to the tent, and set some food down for you. He pulled you in  his arms, and smiled down at you, "That's enough excitement for a day, darlin'."

You smirked a little, then pouted your lip a little, "That ain't like you at all, Aldo." You winked at him as he laughed, and swayed wth you in his arms.  He planted a kiss at the top of your head, and rested his cheek there for a moment or two.

You rested your head on his chest for a while, then he stepped back a little, holding your hands in his, being extra careful with your wound.

"I'm sorry about snappin atcha earlier...I just don't want nothin' to happen to you, darlin'... I really don't know where I'd be without you."

You smiled softly at Aldo, and let him know everything was alright.

"Come on, baby."

The worry faded from his face as you wrapped your arms around him, and kissed him. He smiled softly at you, a way he never really smiled at anyone else before he met you... He was right, though. It had been a long day.

He was tired too.

But that didn't mean there wasn't time for some of his trademark Tennessee lovin'.

The notorious Aldo the Apache was known across the front as a ruthless nazi-scalping basterd... But there was something about him only you knew: he was a cuddler.

So he kept his protective arms around you as you fell asleep.

It was hard to love in war: There weren't a lot of moments.

But when there were, Aldo made sure each one of them counted.

[nobody7102]

Losers in Life- IT One-shot

Paring: Losers Club X Reader(Platonic other than Stan)

Requested by Anonymous 

Warning: Gore, suicide, swearing, bad spelling

Word Count: 1773

Seated on the couch of their home she stared at the stairwell, watching as the paramedics transported Stanley’s body out of the house. Her hands were clammy and tears swelled in her eyes.

“Mrs. Uris…. I know this is hard right now, and a million things are probably going through your head but did your husband give you any reason to believe that he was going to kill himself?”

Her eyes darting from the now empty stairwell to the officer in front of her, she shook her head. She didn’t know what to do. Should she still be sitting? Should she stand? What should she do with her hands? 

“Ma’m?” The Officers snapped her out of her daze

“Sorry….” She shook her head once more wiping her eyes and nose “No ...he seemed fine, no issues at work, or with either of our families, or with us….we…..we had just planned a trip….”

“Did anything happen recently to him that could have caused him to think about suicide?” 

She thought for a moment before her mind went to the phone call he had gotten that caused him to retreat to his study then to the mailbox with a stack of letters,it did seem odd ...not to mention the fact that she had gotten a call moment after…. But Stan was an accountant after all and he liked to do things the old fashioned way when communicating with clients. 

“....I mean……..he had lost a client earlier this week……..” Lie

“...and that previous client had called earlier…” Another lie, she knew well enough to not lie to the police yet she did it anyways.

The officer nodded. 

“One last question Mrs. Uris then we’ll hopefully be out of your hair, and this is a standard question in general. Are you going anywhere or do you have any plans to go anywhere? We just want to make sure that you’re accounted for until the courier clears this as a suicide.” 

Rubbing her temples she thought for a moment.

“No we…well we had planned to...go to… our hometown early tomorrow……. Later today.” she corrected herself since it was well past midnight. 

“And when would you have left for that?” She looked at the clock on the wall, then back to the officer. “Within the next two hours….” 

“Are you still planning to go?” She nodded, “His family deserves to hear it from me.”

The officer nodded writing the answers down before he put the notepad away. 

“Well Mrs. Uris, I hope that you get their safely. I would advise that you leave a little later in the day but that choice if up to you, and I’m so sorry for your loss”

“Thank you…” as the officer started to leave she walked over to him catching him in the doorway. “Officer?”

He turned to her. “Yes?” “Do you think I could get his wedding ring off of him before they take him off?” her voice shook lightly as she spoke those words.

The officer looked between her and the ambulance. Motioning for her to give him a moment, he jogged over to the ambulance. Speaking to one of the EMTs she saw one of them disappear into the ambulance before re-emerging and talking to the officer. It took him a moment before returning to her.

“It took a minute for them to get it to me because they had to sanitize it but…” he held out a bag for her that held Stanley’s ring. 

Taking the bag the thanked the officer once more before she watched the officer and paramedics leave. Retreating back into the house she jogged upstairs grabbing a suitcase out of the closet. 

Throwing the suitcase onto the bed in what once was her shared bedroom but now it was…..just her’s. Going over to the dresser she started taking things out and throwing them in the direction of the suitcase. Before she started to re-dial the number that had called her before.

“Hello?” a voice came from the phone as she set it on speaker.

“Mike? Is that you?” she started to pack the suitcase. “I changed my mind I’m coming back.” “Are you sure? I thought we both agreed you staying put was the best option for your situation.” His voice strained.

“I know!...I know ...but the circumstances are different now, Mike … something happened today...and I know it was that fucken clowns fault...” with that she hung up the phone and continued to pack. 

Pausing for a moment she took Stan’s ring out of the bag butfor going over to her jewelry box, and taking out a chain with a small flower petal in it. 

Stan had gotten her a necklace for their third wedding anniversary, the petal was apart of her bouquet. Sliding the ring onto the chain, she placed it around her neck before she closed up the suitcase.

Finishing packing she changed her close before bringing her suitcase and purse out to the car. As she sat in the car she went over a checklist in her head. 

“House is locked ...Everything packed…. Phone and charger ...check all check…”

Pulling out of the driveway she set up her GPS for the one place she’s hoped she’d never have to return to. Seeing a message pop up on the screen of the car she glanced at it.

‘Returning home Y/N? Better make sure that you’re wearing your floaties, because I can’t wait to watch you float. Just. Like. Stan.’

Place her hazard lights on Y/N took her hand off the wheel tears pouring from her eyes, she punched the screen, letting out a scream. The glass didn't break, it didn’t even crack but her hand would be bruised the next day. Turning off her hazards she sobbed as she drove down the road. 

It took about two hours before she was fully able to stop crying, and by then she was about halfway to Derry from were she and Stan lived. So she decided it was as good a time as any to make a rest stop. Pulling into a gas station she turned off the ignition before unbuckling and slouching back in her seat. 

She covered her face letting out a sigh, pulling out her phone Y/N scrolled through her notifications seeing the message from the unknown number deleting the chat. She also noticed some more messages from Mike. 

‘I’ve got Bill here now, everyone else should be arriving the same time as you.’

 ‘Might be a little late took a rest stop.’ she sent back before she placed the phone back in her bag. Moving her y/h out of her face she hummed before starting the car and preparing to leave once more. 

As she looked up Stan stood in front of the car reaching out for Y/N. He was pale and bloodied, by how stiff his stance was he it looked like rigamortis had set in. 

Staring in horror Y/N froze watching him walk towards the her side of the car. Eyes still on Stan she shifted the gears of the car hearing an inhuman like laugh erupted from his throat. 

“YOU WILL FLOAT Y/N! IF I CAN YOU CAN TO!” 

The tires screeched as the car ran out of parking lot.

Sobs left Y/N’s mouth as she barreled down the road.

It took another two hours till she reached Darry, plus the separate hour she took to calm herself down. 

Her car was parked outside of a chinese restaurant courtesy of MIke, and as she got out of the car she saw a group exit. All of them were shouting before two left the group which left four standing outside of the restaurant. Feeling her phone ring in her pocket, she noticed a redheaded girl holding a phone, and Y/N’s voice mail could be heard. 

‘Hey you’ve reached by voicemail please leave a message.’

“Hello Mrs. Uris, this is Beverly Marsh i’m an old friend of Stanley I was wondering-” the line dropped. “If you’re trying to reach me I’m right here.” Y/n now stood a few feet away from the group of four, and for the first time in the past few hours Y/N had let someone or in this case multiple someone's see how much of a mess she had been. Her Y/H was messy, eyes were red from lack of sleep and all of the crying she’d done, from first glance Y/N looked rough.

Mike separated from the group walking over to Y/N,

“Are you okay? You said something changed? What happ-”

“I’m sorry, but w-who are you?” Bill looked to between Mike and this women.

Mike took a few moments speaking with Y/N before he turned to was Losers remained in front of the restaurant.

“Ben, Bill, Bev… This is Y/N…. durring that summer she was...also one of Pennywize’s fear targets.”

“Mike called me, wanted me to come back…” Y/N crossed her arms shifting on her feet. “Originally I wasn’t gonna come but,” Her hand went to her necklace. “Things change.”

Ben stared at her before turning to the others, 

“You’re that girl that Bowers always harassed by the school? He got your hair caught in his car door and started to drive with you still stuck…” Ben’s voice got quiet towards the end 

“I also happen to be Stan’s wife…” she took out her phone playing Bev’s message.

“If you are Stan’s wi-w-wife” Bill’s voice was strained as he tried to get the words out then w-h-w-where is he?!”

Y/N looked to the warn tar road eye’s starting to well up with tears, she squeezed the necklace before clearing her throat and blinking back the tears.

“Stan’s de-.....” her voice dropped before she even got the word out, she covered her mouth taking a few breaths before just ripping the bandaid off. “Stan killed himself..” she choked a bit on her own words.

“Y/N” Bev slowly walked over to her placing a hand on her shoulder, “I know this is a hard question ...but it is essential that I know this answer. Where did Stan kill himself?” “He umm…. In our bathroom” “Bathroom.”

Y/N and Bev both spoke at the same time answers allining down to the last syllable.

Y/N eyed Bev horrified, no one new about Stan other than the first responders. Much less where he died. Before Y/N could speak Bev slowly continued.

“..You, you saw him an hour ago. But you knew it wasn’t him.”

Y/N’s knees gave out as Bev spoke. Tears pouring from her eyes, catching Y/N Bev slowly sank to the ground with her looking to the three who were still standing wondering what to do.

[motleyfuckingcruee]

Too Drunk For Love (Dirt!Mick Mars x Reader One Shot)

Requested:

@lilypetite88 thank you! This is my first request!

Description:

Would you do a one shot where you are so drunk because your boyfriend cheated on you and mick is there to confort you and he end up being drunk too and end up on you being married and the rest of the boys help with everything then next morning both of you dont remember nothing but you realized you love each other all is happy that way.

Warnings:

Bunch of fluff and fucking language

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!

//

Once again you ended up at the Whiskey A Go Go. This became a habit for you. You often came here to get shit faced. God knows you needed too. When you went to work you saw the woman that your boyfriend cheated on you with. She was your best friend too. Turns out she only pretended to be your best friend to get with your now ex-boyfriend. That really stung you. All your life people only walked out on you. Left you out in the cold. You thought you'd be used to it by now, but you guess not.

The Whiskey is a safe haven for you. Everyone had the same reason to be there.

To get laid and piss ass drunk.

You didn't think you ready to hookup with someone yet, so you just got drunk. Multiple men have hit on you while you've been there at the bar. You declined as nicely as you could. That ended up with them calling you a prude or a stuck up whore. It didn'd bother you to hear those venomous words. You could tell they were all pigs anyway.

A band played there every week. Mötley Crüe you thought they were called. It was an odd collection of guys that were up there. The first one you'd noticed was the lead singer. Mostly because he was right in the front and because of his bright blonde hair. You next noticed the mysterious bass player whose hair nearly covered his entire face. The drummer was next. He was really tall and lanky with long dark brown hair.

The last was the guitarist. You instantly knew he was your favorite. He had long black hair and looked to be a bit older than the rest. He played the guitar like a fucking God. You even made eye contact with him a few times.

Now you sit at the bar with a whole bottle of Jack Daniels in your hand. You don't care about what other people must be thinking about you. You just want to forget.

Mötley Crüe finishes up their set behind you. You didn't feel like watching them tonight. You had a hard day. Worse than the ones before. You just wanted to get drunk.

You take a swig as people start nearly swarming around you. They needed their booze just like you did. You listened to everyone give their orders to the bartender who started to look panicked as people were yelling at him.

You smile at him, hoping to make him feel a bit better. You get lost in thought. You drink a bit more. You stare off into space at the bar.

"You didn't watch us tonight," A deep voice says from beside you.

You look up. You're nearly knocked out of your stool from shock.

The last person you expected to see was the dark haired guitarist. He smiles at you and repeats his statement.

"O-Oh!" You stutter, blushing. "Y-Yeah, it's just been a rough day. I really needed to drink."

He sits on the stool beside you. Ordering himeself his own bottle of Jack. He smirks at you and takes a swig.

"What's got you feeling down?" The guitarist asks.

"I was cheated on," You say simply, taking a swig.

"Oh," He says, surprised. "I'm sorry."

You shrug your shoulders. "I'm not surprised." You pause, looking at him. "I'm (Y/N) (Y/L/N), by the way."

"Mick Mars," He responds grinning at you. He takes in a deep breath. "I think we both need to get wasted. Why don't we do together?"

You don't even hesitate with your answer. "Fuck yes."

-----

You wake up in an unfamiliar bed. The light coming through the window is blinding to your tired eyes. You groan, sitting up. You look around once your eyes adjust. You're in your underwear and that's it. You see your clothes scattered on the bedroom floor. You look hesitantly to your side. Laying there is Mick Mars. The guy you only met last night.

You don't remember anything. That last moment your brain can come up with is when Mick invited you to get wasted with him.

You press your hands to your face. As you do so, you feel something different on your finger. It was cold and metallic. Knowing what it is, but not wanting it to be it, you pull your left hand away from your face.

Sure enough a gorgeous diamond ring is on your ring finger.

What the fuck have I gotten myself into? You ask yourself.

Mick stirs from beside you. You look at him and wait for him to wake up. He opens his eyes, looking up at you. He looks just as surprised as you were when you woke.

He sits up, and rubs his face.

"(Y/N)?" He asks hesitantly.

"Yeah?"

"What the hell happened last night?" He asks, laughing a bit.

You hold up your left hand. "I'm guessing we got wasted enough to get married."

His eyes widen. He looks at his ring finger. He has a simple silver band to match your elaborate ring. "We were that trashed?"

You nod your head. You pull your knees up and rest your head on them. You laugh to yourself. "I'm only twenty three and I'll be getting my first divorce. That's not what I expected."

Mick smiles. "It's not as bad as you think."

You open your mouth to respond, but his bedroom door bursts open.

"Get up, old man!" The tall, lanky drummer yells. "We got shit to do!"

The other two follow closely behind the drummer. They all stop in their tracks when their eyes land on you.

You smile shyly and wave at them. "Hi."

The bassists face lights up. "Finally the old man got laid!"

You roll your eyes and laugh at him.

"Oh! I'm Nikki, by the way," The bassist introduces himself. "The tall one is Tommy, and the blonde one is Vince."

"Nice to meet you guys," You laugh. "I'm (Y/N)."

"A pretty name for such a pretty lady," Vince flirts, winking at you.

"Look at her eyes, Tommy," Mick growls.

You look down, realizing that your in your bra. You pull the blanket up to cover yourself. You blush, completely embarrassed.

"Looks like you had a fun night," Nikki laughs. "You guys left as soon as we tried to join your party."

You frown. "I don't remember that." You hold up your left hand again. You point at the gorgeous ring. "Do you guys remember us getting married?"

Their eyes widen in shock.

"You guys got fucken hitched?" Tommy laughs. "And here I thought I'd be the first to get married."

"We thought so too, T-Bone," Nikki laughs, clapping him on the back.

You sigh. "We need to get down to the court house and file for a divorce." You groan. "This really fucking sucks."

"You know what?" Tommy says. You look up at him. "Why don't you guys try being together? I mean, Mick you've been wanting to be with someone and she seems like the perfect fit. You two got on so well last night. It was effortless. Why not ride this out?"

You and Mick look at each other.

"It's not a bad idea," Mick says. "You're not as ridiculous as I thought you were, drummer."

"Thank you!" Tommy nearly yells.

You grin at Tommy, then turn back to Mick. "It might work out."

And work out it did. You and Mick moved in together the next day. He didn't have to worry about meeting your family since you didn't have any. He took you out on your first date that weekend. You knew you were in love with him by the fifth date.

Mötley Crüe took off about a year after you and Mick got hitched. He made sure that he had time for you at all times. If you called he'd drop whatever it was he was doing. He loved you more than you could ever imagine, and you loved him the same. Maybe even more.

Now here you are, five years later. You're standing in the kitchen of the mansion Mick bought about six months ago. You watch him as he attempts to make you your favorite meal for your five year anniversary.

You grin and take a sip of your beer.

You can't believe how lucky you are to have him.

You're so glad you listened to the kid drummer. That was the best idea he'd ever had, and you could never repay him.

Thanks to Tommy Lee, you stayed with the love of your life.

[im-tops-bottom]

Just an idea

Tony meets Bucky and Steve during WWII.

Tony worked alongside many teams such as the electrical repair crew, engineering, etc....while Steve and Bucky worked in the front lines alongside the howling commandos.

Tony always got into fights with Steve ever since training. Steve was always Howard Starks favorite. Howard never had time or paid attention to Tony. Tony was nothing but a regret, a mistake, nothing but a distant memory. Then again Howard was in love with the super soldier. So that made sense to him. At least he didn't have to worry about his father nagging him for being a complete failier.

To make matters worse, Tony didn't have any friends in the army. Everyone only used him to fix things up or work in a battlefield strategy. They were nice to him but not nice enough to sit with him during lunch, or just have an idle chat with him during breaks. He felt so lonely there. He used the loneliness to his advantage. Build up walls so they don't break. So they don't shatter.

What really helped was when James Buchanan Barnes aka Bucky aka Steve Rogers best friend/bodyguard told him to stay away from them. Bucky was very protective over Steve and things tend to get rough when people talk bad about either of them. Bucky just like his father told him that he was a good for nothing spoiled brat and the only use the army has for him is his brain. He said a whole lot of bad things after that.

After that Tony had told himself that he will never fall in love with anyone ever again. Push all his emotions aside. Since then he has never spoke to anyone that wasn't work related. He stopped trying to make friends. He pretty much stopped looking after himself. That was when the late nights planning fueled only by coffee kicked in. He kept on working until he passed out. As soon as he woke up he will get straight back into it.

A couple of days later, he almost faints but strong arms hold him up. He becomes dizzy as he tries to balance and almost drops again. He feels himself being lifted up and he starts complaining. He gets taken to his tent and is gently placed on the bed. He looks up and is too tired at the moment to be shocked at who had helped him.

"Bucky? The fuck you doing here?"

He watches as Bucky grabs a tray of food, sits beside Tony and starts trying to feed him.

"Eat!"

"Im not hungry"

"I don't have time for your bullshit Stark. Eat!"

"great me neither. Im not hungry"

"you haven't eaten in days. Now eat!"

"I don't fucken care. Just go back to Captain America and let me get back to work"

Out of anger, Tony finds the energy to throw the tray of food to the floor and get off the bed and walk out. He doesn't make it far as those strong arms he still has a thing for are wrapped around his waist and he is pulled back to Buckys chest. It was a good thing too as Tony began to feel dizzy again.

"don't act like a brat Tony"

"how else should an army brat act?"

Dizziness subsides and Tony breaks out of the hold. He doesn't look back as he walks away.

"leave me alone Bucky. Just leave."

"you're acting like a child"

"great!" Tony finally turns around to look Bucky in the eye "then I can do this"

Bucky crosses his arms "do what?"

Tony smirks "I quit" he turns around and walks away not even paying attention to Bucky's growlings for Tony to get his back there. Tony sighs contently at the feeling of freedom.

-2 hours later-

Tony's freedom is shattered. His dad refuses to accept his absence from the army. They have heated words. Well at least his mother managed to get food into him.

After that Tony sneaks back to his tent. He starts packing up his stuff.

"what are you doing Tony?"

Of course he shouldn't be surprised who it is. He just had his other half in his tent hours ago.

"what do you want Steve?"

He tenses as he hears Steve get up from the chair by the door.

"what, you can't handle a little heat so you run away?"

Tony finishes packing and grabs his stuff. He gets ready to leave but stops as Bucky walks through the door.

"oh great as if seeing today wasn't bad enough. Look! I don't care what you heard but just so you know, it's none of your business. Either of you. so if you boys don't mind"

Steps around Bucky and makes his way to the door.

"I'm leaving. This is me leaving. Have fun without me. Everyone else will."

Tony walks out and sneaks through the area right up to the entrance. He smiles as he sees that Bruce Banner is the one working security tonight. Out of all the people Tony has ever known, he never minded Bruce. Bruce kept to himself. He was just as friendless and lonely. People liked Bruce though. He just never wanted to make friends so he didn't have to worry about losing someone to the war. Tony had mad respect for that.

"hey Brucie bear."

"hey Tony. What's up?"

"I'm running. I told my father to get fucked, packed my shit and now this is me leaving."

"is that the same for those guys too?"

"what guy's?"

Out of confusion Tony turns to look behind him and finds two very angry super soldiers standing there with eyebrows raised and arms crossed. He can't help but roll his eyes as he turns back around.

"yeah fucken right they are. Nope I am doing this solo."

"good luck"

Tony and Bruce nod as Tony walks through the gate and sets off under the nights sky.

After what felt like hours of walking Tony huffs as he stops to turn around.

"how long do you guys plan on following me?"

"however long it takes for you to realize you are just being stupid and childish and that you should come back to base, apologize to your father and let things return back to how they used to be."

"oh fuck you Rogers. Go suck Howard's dick asshole. I'm done with him. I'm So fucken done with you two asshats."

"Bucky say something. He's being a brat"

Tony turns around so his back is towards them.

"no! How bout Bucky stays silent and you two to return back to base and fuck my dad's brains out in front of my mother. How bout you two just leave me the hell alone."

Tony takes a sip of water before he carries on walking. he hears shoes scrape against rocks and he prays to god that they are returning to base.

About a couple of hours later he finds an abandoned cabin. He slowly inspects the outside and sees everything is alright. He checks to see if the door is open and as he does he feels hands on his hips and let's out a yelp as he is dragged away from the house. Him and whoever has gotten a hold of him are thrown back as the house goes up in flames.

His body is shaking and he turns and presses against the body. He hears Buckys voice calming him and now he can put a name to the body holding him.

"it's okay Tony. It's okay. I got you."

"don't leave me"

Tony tenses as he feels another body against him.

"it's okay Tony. We ain't going anywhere. We won't leave you"

Tony calms as he hears Steve. Still shaken up, he let's his anger towards them subside and let's them hold him. He continues his chant of "please don't leave me" afraid that if he stops they will be gone.

After Tony falls asleep Steve looks up at Bucky on the other side of Tony with tears threatening to leave.

"we can't leave him Bucky. Promise me we won't leave him"

Steve is slightly shaking at what happened. He almost lost Tony if it weren't for his best friend noticing the trap right away.

"we won't. I don't wanna leave him."

Bucky is still trying to calm down and breathe. He clings on to Tony like their lives depend on it. He almost lost Tony and he won't ever let that happen again. Now with a more determined mindset, he gets up and picks up the sleeping Tony.

"we won't let him leave us. We'll stay by his side forever. Nothing is gonna to ever come between us no matter what. We lost him once, won't let that happen again."

Steve stood up also looking more determined after hearing Bucky.

"even if he hates us, we'll continue to protect him. I love him Bucky. Im not willing to give him up."

"same here Stevie. Same here."

They return to the road side and continue their trek.

A while later they find a cabin that has lights on. They walk up to the door and knock on it.

A lady opens up the door with a bright smile.

"hi there. How can I help you gentleman?"

Bucky being the more stronger one, places Tony into Steve's arms and steps up. He places a smile onto his face.

"hey I'm James. We are a little bit lost. We were looking for the base camp. We went for a jog but our friend got hurt along the way. Are we able to stay the night?"

The ladies eyes open wide and she drags the boys in.

"oh yes of course of course. Have you eaten anything yet? I'll make up some drinks. Oh dear boys. You need to be more careful around this parts of the woods. It's dangerous. You don't know what you will run into during the war. You guys do look familiar though. I'm not sure where I have seen you"

Steve smiles "probably not. We just joined the army awhile ago." Steve looks at Bucky who nods back. They can't trust anyone out here. Best keep to some white lies and half truths.

After they had a little something to eat, the lady takes them to her room where there is a big bed.

"this is mine and m husband's room. My husband is away at the moment. I will take the spare room. Theres a shower and I can provide spare clothes."

After they have a shower and going as far as washing a sleeping Tony, they get changed and head to bed. After saying good night and making sure Tony is tucked safely between them, they start to relax.

"we have to tell him how we really feel, don't we?"

"if it means that we don't completely lose him then yes we do. We also need to explain to him everything."

"even the reason for the fights and arguments?"

"yes. Right back to the training days"

"do i really have to tell him why I liked sending him down to the mat?"

"yes Stevie you do. It's bad enough he got his ass kicked by a scrawny asthmatic punk. Let alone being reminded of it and finding out the real reason why you started the future arguments."

"he's gonna be pissed"

"yes but at least he'll know. He'll probably be okay with it"

"yeah I can hear it now "oh yeah I'm totally fine with you getting a hard on Everytime you send me to the ground because after the first time, you had fantasies about dominating me in bed. It's gonna be better now that my dad who is totally in love with you had pumped you up with that god juice making everything twice as big. Hey did I mention the part about my dad" real smooth"

"I hope you do realize that that was a really bad impression"

"oh shut it"

After the laughter dies down. They get comfortable and fall asleep.

-the next morning-

Bucky and Steve wake up to no Tony. They call out to him and search around hoping that he's there. Unfortunately Tony is not around.

Things start to get wierd as the owner of the place is no longer there either. It's not until their super soldier senses pick up far away screaming.

Bucky and Steve look wide eyed at each other. "Tony". They run outside and see Tony being dragged onto a boat kicking and screaming. They run after him but the boat has already taken off.

"they took him!" "Calm down Steve!" "WE PROMISED. THEY TOOK HIM BUT WE PROMISED!" "I know. Come on. We'll head to camp and stock up." "We bringing him home?" Bucky watches the boat that says Hydra speed off "yeah Stevie. We're bringing him home"

[lorainelaneyblog]

Say this, says God, your line from the lady devil dream.

‘Yes, God, thank you,’ says Loraine Laney.

‘Okay, Loraine, you are welcome, DON’T say thank you again. DON’T say okay. Just say the line please, readers, not fans, she has no, fucking fans, T.I. or anyone who is listening, in the family or otherwise. She’s going to go and tell her errant husband the solution, Loraine, and they may, may, may, may, try it, they may. He owes her, that is for fucking sure. Anyway, say it.

“If you are unwilling to stand up for desire, you might as well be the devil.”

And then, says God, explain what you were explaining about, ostensibly, India, the problem country, right now, in terms of violence against women. It is the problem fucking country right, fucking, now, Loraine. Believe it or not, T.I.--

‘Why is it me all the time?’

I want to talk to you T.I. because you are, believe it or not--

‘Believe it or not with that again?’

This is God, and believe it or not, T.I., and Loraine Laney, herself, does not know this--

‘I know what you’re going to say, can it be real? I’m the last, fucking, hold out? Chingy, my precious lover, boyfriend, is into this little idiot?’

Yes, he has, he did immediately, capitulate, immediately, because he has eschewed--I can do it--his fag overly, and he misses it, he misses men, Loraine, he does, and he knows it. He does. He’s quite promiscuous with women, and he gets condom sex in the ass occasionally, when he wants to, but he’s never really met a complete equal, in talent, and in sexuality, in terms of dominance.

‘Why is she smiling? Because he’s going to fuck my ass?’

No, says God, but because I have told her that men choose equals, and that, it is, virtually, a detriment to do otherwise. I have, Chingy, so she is happy for you, she is, and she doesn’t care, she thinks you’re cute, and T.I. thinks you’re sexy, and she loves your DADDY tattoo, she fuck, ing, loves it.

‘Why? She’s not even a bonafide fag hag, I have heard, Loraine,’ says Chingy.

‘Who said?’

‘You.’

‘Oh, yeah, true.’

Gay men, and I will be a homophobe if I want to be, do not excite her sexually.

‘Why? Cause of dick and pussy ass? Why? Because of dicks together.’

Loraine laughs in a funny way, says God, in her inimitable, funny, sexual way.

‘Oh, she’s fucking wide eyed, but she thinks it’s weird. What is it that she likes?--’

Degradation. She realized--

‘She, she, she,’ says Chingy.

‘That’s what I thought,’ says T.I.

She’s my humming, which I told her not to do, resident sexologist, Chingy, fucking, fucking, doctor, ate, in, sexology, doctor, ology means doctor, Loraine, if you haven’t gleaned that by now. Yes?

‘Yes, God. I thought so.’

‘Oh, I see,’ says Chingy. 

I am God, and she is both my resident sexologist--

‘Which you said,’ says Chingy. 

Sarcastic, to God. --and my new messiah.

‘Oh, so I have to protect the new messiah. So is she going to pay for this, my protection, my fucking manhood, which may be, someday, if not soon, be crucified, or cut off for her womanhood or something like that?’

‘She is, as of today, fucking rich,’ says 50 Cent. ‘Not as rich as me, Loraine, but, for a fucking, whorey, slutty, crack girl, she is rich.’

‘What if she wasn’t rich? What if she wasn’t?’

‘Well, she fucking is, is the point.’

‘What if when she wasn’t?’

‘We were going to pay for her,’ says 50 Cent.

Who was going to pay for her surgeries, Chingy thinks.

'I was, Chingy,’ says 50 Cent.

‘Why? Get a pretty, fucking, slut, they do exist, you know.’

‘I like this one. I like her.’

Loraine laughs her little laugh, says God, her high, happy, little laugh, high on speed, little laugh.

‘She pleases me,’ 50 Cent continues.

‘Why?’

‘She got around me with funnyness actually.’

‘Why is she, a funnyness three, so, fucking, funny, that I want to stick my lovely, perfect, and wonderfulness dick inside of her, asshole, even, I hear, from Eminem. Why does she get my precious butt bang. And look, surprise surprise, she doesn’t, even, big, fucking, frigid--’

‘I’m good for some things, I just don’t like anal sex that much.’

‘Oh, it’s too rough for you, my precious two on one that I like to have, sometimes, with a nicer girl who deserves it a little, tiny, miniscule, bit?

Tell him that.

‘Game said something similar.’

‘Oh, I see, you’ve been talking to Game about me, too? Funny, Loraine.’

‘Hm hm. For Game, he’s not sure if any girl deserves his two on one.’

‘Oh, I see, well now, that’s sensible. Smart of him. But then he doesn’t get to DO IT. And I do. Ha, fucking, ha. But I don’t know if my ugly, new--my last wife was pretty--wife, deserves it at all, not yet, at all, I have said,’ says Chingy. ‘Oh, she likes my tattoo, why does she get to say she likes my, fucking, tattoo, why? Girls haaate, my fucking tattoo, oh, and she gets to say she likes, loves even, Brian’s gay, faggy, mauve shirts. What if she didn’t, what then?’

‘She doesn’t like all of Fifty’s clothes,’ says Eminem.

‘Who does? She has taste is why. He needs HELP, Loraine, and I have feeling that you and Eminem are going to help him, aren’t you? Help him senseless, till he’s pleading for mercy. Eminem will have him hip hopped senseless, won’t he? Oh, she loves his hip hop, cause he’s SO CUTE in it, and his too tight suits, such as they, fucking, are, will have to go. He will do Vitamin Water in a do rag.’

Loraine Laney, says God, is laughing a little bit over that last paragraph.

‘Why, by the by, is it Loraine, fucking, Laney, with that all the time? What about a nice girly name like just Loraine for a change. Why is she so fucking important?’

Listen, Chingy, says God, she’s my new, fucking, this is God, mes, fucking, siah, yes, she is, like fucking, not as abused as he, by some distance, but more abused than Joan of Arc herself, who was another messiah, with, actually--

‘Five hundred husbands, I know this from history, God. She fucked them all too, didn’t she? Every week or so? How much of this mini pussy, I’ve seen it, I know the type, do I actually get to, if I even want, get to fuck, if I want to?’

She will do it sometimes, and she will want--

‘Oh, she will want, will she? What does the precious, frigid, I’ll bet, because she interrupted me, little bitch actually want? Come? She’s going to eat come? Oh, she’s going to eat mine and T.I’s come and shit? Oh, and she wants, oh, she wants, it turns out, to lick my precious, beautiful, sphincter? And what do I owe her for that. I have to lick her fat ass. Do I have to do that often, because I want, I would like this frigid bitch to that to me OFTEN, OFTEN--

Loraine, for Chingy, laughs her funny, sex laugh again, her funny, high on speed, sex laugh. She makes her dumb little grinding sound, also from speed, says God.

‘I would like, I have decided that I would--’

You can’t hit it and quit it, says God. 

‘Oh, I see, there are rules to this thing. Oh, I see, she doesn’t want to blitzed for a month as is done today, and then dumped, in our very house, from her ass loving? I see. I fucking see.’

She knows she can’t put upon you, she knows this theoretically, says God.

‘Oh, there’s a theory to this thing. She can’t, fucking, put, fucking, upon, me. She has to wait till I’m ready, I see this in her mind, and she recognizes I may never be ready. Oh, is Game not ready and may never be?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Oh, you’re going to wait patiently. And what then? When you don’t get your two on one that you don’t want? What then? Oh, the fucking, big surprise, dog house.’

She, says God, thought she might put a man in the dog house--

‘Oh, the dog house. Oh, she believes in the dog house, a real woman thing. She’s not a fucking hopeless nympho?’

No, she is not. She, says God, thought maybe--

‘Oh, maybe with that. Maybe with what? I’m a little bit, just a little bit, cause I’m Chingy, lost. Maybe what? What is this? She thought maybe if we were running around plowing it into other girls, with our beloved boyfriend, or someone, she might, she might, she might, just, put, us, in, the, dog, house. Oh, kind of if she has a good argument as to why she deserves it. Over them? Oh, as well as them. That’s generous, Loraine. So, in this scenario, in which she has whores, no, that’s an insult to men, which we, I, would never do, insult men, she is a whore, she has many client men, male clients, and I get to fuck other, with double penetration, if I want, and if T.I. wants, or someone, undetermined, to.

‘Oh, I get to, oh, she’s, isn’t she grand, going to let me do what I have to do, want, even? “Do what you have to do,” my wife, my pretty, she was--’

‘You made a mistake with that.’

‘Oh? Why? This, I have to know.’

‘She was probably high and boring for your dick.’

‘Oh, she’s, fucking, funny, too.’

She makes the little laugh again, says God.

‘What other mistake did I make with that?’

‘That’s it.’

‘Oh, that it, well, I’m glad you approve, generally speaking, the great Loraine Laney, who stopped, what is he saying? The fucken planes? She stopped my, my, fucken planes? Because somebody did, and if it was--’

She laughs again, a bit, says God.

‘She’s ruining my laugh track, anyway, I would like to suck his, and I bet it was a man, not a woman, not a whore, not a slutty whore, but an actual man, but it was her. Are you serious, fucking, with this?’

‘Yes, we think, we believe so,’ says 50 Cent. ‘We do believe so. Because, and it is said, around, Loraine, cops love to throw around the name Loraine Laney, because she got, with her good arguments in her book, which she is tired of hearing the title, Bros Before--’

‘Nice. Prison. Who told her that? Oh, [ ]. Nice, Loraine. Steal that for your own use. She thinks I’m funny. Approval. Thank God.’

She’s really laughing now, says God.

‘Great. Good. Let me finish, hos. And she can even spell it, it’s not a rake.’

They are, on the side, talking about a piece Loraine did, with me, it was entirely mine Chingy, God’s, called When A Gangster Falls In Love. It was very, fucking, funny. “Four inches” is the best punch line, it is.

‘I don’t care. Furthermore,’ says Chingy. ‘Why, how actually, did she stop my planes?’

‘In Canada, it is brief, painless--’ says 50 Cent.

‘Oh, what a relief.’

‘Cops are allowed, encouraged even, to, see, whores.’

‘Whores were the answer. Whores. To planes. Seriously. I could have given them a whore or two, when I was finished with them.’

‘Mmmm,’ Loraine admonishes.

‘It is exactly that shit which fucked with them,’ says 50 Cent.

‘Oh, she doesn’t approve of the way I treat, fucking, cops now? Why, does she fuck, oh, she fucked an RCMP once, with his stripper girlfriend, was he fun, Loraine, temporary, in the ass, on his wife. Nice, Loraine. Well, fucking, done. Was she pretty, very pretty, even, he traded up, down, actually. Oh, [ ] [ ] said, taught you, “you don’t leave your wife for them.” Oh, but now, you’re them, aren’t you? You didn’t want your whorey ass to get married, you had a cop to fuck, once, before he tased you through your wall. Oh, you had to feel sorry for them because they were doing you so hard. Nice. She is a nice, fucking, girl. To. cops.’

‘They were being cuckolded by society at large.’

‘I am glad that I care how cops feel. They kill blacks is why. They kill prostitutes too, I know that, and let them die, in the hood, black ones even more, I’ll have you know.’

She took it hard, Chingy, says God.

‘She has a forgiving nature, that’s good, because she will need that when I fuck her in the ass. She, fucking, will, because ass fucking hurts, which she knows, oh, she knows that, she’s experiential as hookers say, an experiential woman, I hope, you, didn’t, throw that around, Loraine Laney? You heard it once and couldn’t figure out what it meant?’

Kind of like that, says God. She, didn’t, care, and, didn’t, use, it, but she told--

‘She told.’

She told a solicitation subcommittee that prostitutes were poly, and they thought it meant she was in it for lots of men, but, in the book, it finally comes across--

‘That she was in it for the dick? The dick, that’s it, isn’t it? With sluts like this?’

That hurts her a bit, says God. I am God, I am God, I am God, continuing, where, we, left, off. And this is why she did it, this is why, Loraine, this is why, Loraine, she was very clear it was for men in the following way:

‘Dicks on men?’

No, Chingy, Loraine is an in. tro. vert, an introvert, that is what she is, also--

‘A writer, so, fucking, what.’

‘Why would you say something like that about a writer? Why would you say something like that? That means nothing.’

‘It means we are all writers dear, it didn’t make us love dick.’

This is why, Loraine Laney, does not love dick, she loves men. She is a bonafide--

‘Bonafide again.’

‘Why are you so cynical?’

‘What is cynical about dick? Dick is positive.’

She snorts quietly, softly, without derision.

[artificialqueens]

Just the Game We're In- Chapter 9 (Ortega)

a/n: (snoop dogg voice) greetings, loved ones. mind in Mean Queens when there was that one chapter that was The Fuckening? this is that. i’m sorry. and as always i’m very sorry for the wait…but if u know me and u know this fic then ur probably used to it by now. thank u all so much for reading, especially my biggest cheerleaders, especially especially purecamp who proofread this and was subjected to the trauma first hand. HWFG

“Do you know,” Katya smiled, looking up from her monitor and catching the attention of the other girls in the department. “I think today’s going to be a really, really good day!”

Trixie groaned. Willam had to agree that Katya’s predictions generally did the opposite of what they were meant to do and instead worked like a bad curse- however she thought something would pan out, the opposite would generally happen. Willam could do without any bad omens today of all days, as it was particularly busy in DoSAC. However, she did also have every reason to be optimistic as she looked across the office and met eyes with Courtney, the other girl giving her a long-suffering roll of her eyes then laughing and blowing her a kiss.

The last month with Courtney had been better than Willam could ever have imagined. They were frantically busy, of course, with work, but they had always seemed to make time for each other. Courtney was forever enthusiastic about finding new restaurants for them to go and visit after a hectic day, and Willam always kept an eye out for nice little gifts or particularly beautiful bunches of flowers she could surprise Courtney with. True to their word, they hadn’t been particularly PDA at work, but Willam enjoyed the moments that they could show a tiny bit of affection. They would sometimes go and make everyone’s drinks order together, singing in ridiculous voices to whatever was playing on the kitchen radio. During one of Sharon’s meetings when Courtney was looking a little more stressed than usual Willam would reach out and curl her pinkie around Courtney’s own. If one of them was at the photocopier the other would find an excuse to be there too, hugging the other from behind. It had been a month to the day, Willam realised, since that evening at the party conference. Her skin prickled a bit. She’d never really managed to stay together with anyone for that long before- well, apart from uni- and that slightly terrified her. Which was why when it came to any intimacy beyond kissing, like taking Courtney back to her house after dinner, Willam had been going at a snail’s pace, if that snail had been stamped on underfoot and then eaten by a passing bird.

“Wow. You know, I’d never imagined you were the take-it-slow type at all,” Courtney had remarked after their last date, after Willam had cut her off during a particularly heavy kiss and had begun to panic.

“Well, you know,” Willam had blushed uncharacteristically. “When it’s someone you care about, you don’t want to fuck it up.”

She thought Courtney was probably fine with waiting. It was weird- an area of her life that Willam never had any issue with was fucking, and she didn’t really know why she was so nervous about it now. But if she was being honest with herself, she knew exactly the reason- it wasn’t as simple as just fucking, Courtney was the first person she had really, properly cared about since…well, since the last time. And even though she’d told Courtney how she felt about her, and they were together, part of her didn’t want to share this aspect of her with her yet unless it brought everything crashing down around her.

Willam knew it didn’t quite make sense. But it made sense to her, and besides, they would cross that bridge eventually. It was inevitable, and that didn’t scare Willam at all really.

Still, she hadn’t had time to think about the whole thing too much recently. Weeks and weeks at work had been building up to this day, and now it was finally here- tonight Sharon would be officially launching her policy to the press, meaning that it was going to be really happening, real party policy that Willam had helped get through parliament. It was exactly what Willam had come into the world of politics to do, make changes and change lives. She was proud of what they’d all achieved, and Sharon was on cloud 9 too.

Except, as the Secretary of State walked into the department in the comfy trainers she normally wore walking into work, she didn’t look ecstatic. Neither did her blonde-haired advisor slash girlfriend, who followed behind her with a scowl on her face and thunderous footsteps.

“Morning, everyone,” she said through gritted teeth. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was a bitch.”

Willam didn’t miss the way Sharon spat out the word bitch, giving a sideways glance at Alaska which the other girl glared at. Willam noticed that Alaska was carrying Sharon’s briefcases, which was odd- Courtney always carried Sharon’s bags, and sometimes Willam, but never Alaska.

“Oh! Sharon. You should’ve said you were downstairs, I would have got those for you,” Courtney said, a little perplexed herself as she gestured to the briefcases that Alaska had now dumped on the floor.

“No thank you Courtney, Alaska is perfectly capable of carrying a few briefcases. She does work for me after all, just like you,” Sharon grimaced, the cold tone to her words shocking even Willam. Noticing how her arrival had changed the atmosphere, Sharon gave a cough before she carried on. “Right, launch day! Meeting room in five.”

Everyone’s eyes were on Alaska, sensing the tension in the room. Her face was blank but with an undertone of severely pissed-off, her brow furrowed slightly in a scowl Willam could guess she didn’t know she was wearing.

“Aww, is Baby Alaska sad that she had to carry the Minister’s bags?” Adore teased from her desk.

“It’s about bloody time you took the briefcases for a change. I was beginning to think Sharon had favourites,” Jinkx chastised her friend without looking up. Alaska turned to her and rolled her eyes.

“Well, does anyone want a tea? I might as well while I’m here,” Alaska asked, her tone a little resigned. Immediately about four different orders were shouted over to her, so Willam rose from her desk.

“I’ll come with. Court, do you want anything?”

“No thanks, love,” she smiled back, attracting some playful comments from the comms girls. Ignoring them, Willam followed Alaska to the small kitchen, immediately bursting to ask her about the weird atmosphere between her and her girlfriend.

As soon as Alaska reached the kettle, she almost wrenched the lid off it as she filled it with water. Willam watched silently and raised her eyebrows.

“So um…everything okay with you and Sharon?”

Alaska thudded the kettle down and flicked the switch on it heavily. “We’re fine.”

Willam sucked some air in through her teeth. “Are you sure, because I’m detecting some weird vibes between you. And not the weird vibes you keep in your bedside table.”

“Willam, I’m not in the mood for your shit humour,” Alaska immediately snapped back, her shoulders falling straight afterwards as she assumed she’d hurt her friend. Truthfully, Willam couldn’t care less- she had a thick skin and comments that Alaska made out of hurt or anger or whatever the fuck she was feeling weren’t really going to affect her. Out of perhaps guilt, Alaska sighed and gently took some mugs out of the cupboard as her demeanour changed. “We’re okay. Thanks, Willam. We’re just…going through a rough patch.”

Willam wanted to know more, but she reasoned that she didn’t really have much of a place to ask about it. Helping Alaska and reaching for some teabags, she tentatively opened her mouth. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Alaska wordlessly shook her head.

“Well, you know I’m here if you do.”

As Alaska looked over at Willam and gave her a small smile of gratitude, the kettle reached boiling point. Before Alaska could begin pouring the teas her work phone began to ring. She looked at the caller ID, frowned, then looked at Willam in a way Willam couldn’t quite describe. She seemed secretive.

“I have to take this. Two minutes,” she said, stepping out of the kitchen and heading off down the corridor. That struck Willam as odd- work was work, and a phone call was a phone call. She was always happy taking calls in front of Alaska or Courtney because it was for her job, and the girls were always the same with her. She couldn’t work out why it was different for Alaska this time.

Staring at the cups in front of her, Willam sighed.

“I guess this is my job now,” she said to herself quietly, filling them up with water.

A few minutes and a tea delivery to the comms girls later, Willam was entering the meeting room with two steaming hot cups (one for Courtney of course, even though she’d said she hadn’t wanted anything, and one for her). She was busy doing the press round-up for Sharon, but stopped abruptly when the tea was placed in front of her.

“You’re late,” Sharon addressed Willam sternly as she sat down.

“Sorry, I was too busy being the fucking barista at Starbucks. What have I missed?”

Courtney leant forward. “Well, obviously, most of the headlines are about the PM’s approval ratings absolutely pissing down the gutter.”

Willam nodded. In the past week, the polls had received quite the turnaround for Sharon, but the PM’s approval ratings had plummeted and nobody could quite tell why, least of all Bianca who, every time Willam had seen her in the past couple of days, had seemed close to a massive heart attack.

“Any headlines about new communities?” Willam asked hopefully.

“Luckily, yes,” Courtney continued. “Bianca is obviously overjoyed that our policy is a bit of governmental good news. The right wing papers, which is basically all of them, hate it, but at least if they’re writing about it they’re not writing about the PM.”

“Which is fucking great for me,” Sharon rolled her eyes sarcastically from the other end of the table.

“You’re being well received on Twitter, which is basically bigger than News 24 in this day and age, and you’re ahead of Phi Phi by 5% in the polls so you’ve got nothing to be annoyed about actually,” Alaska spoke up, her voice hard and cold and making everyone uncomfortable. Willam narrowed her eyes at her friend, then looked at Sharon who had her eyes boring into her desk and her head down. What the fuck had happened to make things like this?

“But at least the launch is tonight, right?” Willam cut in, before Sharon had a chance to talk back and make anything worse. “What we’ve all been working towards for what seems like years. You pleased?”

Sharon forced a smile, happy to be distracted by work. “I am glad, actually. I’m so happy to be doing something that actually fucking matters, you know?”

With that, the glass door to the meeting room opened and Jinkx appeared.

“Morning, Secretary of State,” Jinkx smiled briefly as she formally addressed the Minister. “I know you are very excited about this policy launch tonight, I mean, really, I know you all do have very stiff hard-ons about this-” Willam curled her lip in distaste. “-but you do have your BBC interview in about an hour so if you could possibly make sure you’re prepped and double-prepped for that, it would make my life roughly a thousand times easier.”

Sharon sighed, waving a hand and brushing Jinkx off as she slipped off the trainers and replaced them with her heels. “It’s fine, Jinkx, I’ve got the gist- make the policy outline rough enough so as not to confuse any panicky gibbering pensioners, make absolutely clear that we’re not going to make any Native Aryan Nazi dream children homeless to appease the I Heart Tommy Robinson bunch and praise the PM in the wake of this approval ratings fuck-up, so I’m…prepped. I’m fucking prepped.”

“Who actually is conducting this interview today? Is it a Gemini interview?” Courtney inquired, fixing Jinkx with a suspicious glare.

“No, Raja’s out in Calais doing correspondent stuff at the moment so she’s incommunicado for now.”

“Oh, so it’s Chi Chi DeVayne,” Willam concluded matter-of-factly. Jinkx gave a sort of foreboding murmur.

“Not exactly, no. It’s um, Brianna Cracker.”

The three advisors gave Jinkx a look of confusion, Sharon giving out a cry as she struggled to shove her foot into the other high heel.

“Who the hell is Brianna Cracker? I’m launching a fucking government policy Jinkx, not a fucking cheese factory!” she shouted with indignation, finally looking up at the other girls with her hair covering most of her face.

“She’s a new girl that the BBC have got in, doing a lot of featurettes and online stuff- and she seems very nice,” Jinkx pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows, clearly annoyed that her best (the bare minimum) clearly hadn’t been good enough.

“Sunflowers are ‘very nice’, Jinkx, but talking to one doesn’t get you great media coverage, does it?” Alaska sighed in resignation.

“Probably gets you admitted to an institution,” Courtney rolled her eyes, Willam biting back a laugh over the fact that her dry humour was clearly rubbing off on her.

“Well luckily, she is not a sunflower, she is a journalist, and one that is going to give you a very lovely piece on the BBC website about this very lovely policy that you are launching tonight, so you can suck it up and deal with it,” Jinkx glared at each of the advisors in turn, her eyes finally coming to rest on Sharon. The Minister in question threw her hands up in defeat.

“Okay! Okay, Christ, well we’d better hope a clip gets shown on the lunchtime news or something, or I might just have to get off my tits on ketamine and go running through the Houses of Parliament with “NEW POLICY LAUNCH” smeared on my shirt in lipstick.”

“I assume that Bianca’s been in and left a brief or something? We haven’t seen her yet and the interview’s getting pretty close,” Willam frowned at Jinkx, concerned. The spin doctor normally visited Ministers before they had an interview with any news outlets just to double-check they knew their lines. Jinkx frowned back and shook her head.

“I’ve heard nothing from Bianca all morning.”

“Nothing from Bianca?!” Sharon cried incredulously, the other girls looking at Jinkx in horror. “Christ, perhaps she’s dead.”

“How can you have heard nothing from Bianca? The woman’s basically a walking talking telecommunications tower,” Alaska asked, wide-eyed. Jinkx gave a flippant shrug as if she wasn’t the least bit bothered as long as it gave her less work to do.

“Well, I have to just assume that there’s nothing that Bianca wants to discuss with me. Which is a bit like wandering into a lion enclosure and assuming they’ve just been fed,” Sharon reasoned, her voice tinged with dread.

“Am I free to go now? I am getting a lot of calls, considering there is a policy launch tonight?” Jinkx asked impatiently, lingering at the door.

“Yes, you’re free. Go resume your hectic schedule,” Sharon deadpanned sarcastically.

“Oh, Jinkx,” Courtney stopped her just before she made to leave, Jinkx’s shoulders slumping in disappointment. “How many journalists do we have confirmed for tonight?”

“We’ve got confirmed, four,” Jinkx said calmly. There was a chorus of disbelieving shouts in reply.

“FOUR? We’re launching new communities, for fuck’s sake, not a fucking death camp!” Sharon cried, her face completely outraged.

“Jinkx, get onto everyone, start fucking harassing everyone! Now!” Willam barked at her, staring at the carpet in disbelief as Jinkx hurried away.

“Four journalists? Jesus Christ. This is meant to be my pinnacle! I haven’t climbed up a mountain just to launch myself off the top!” Sharon ranted, holding her head in her hands.

“I’ll go and start ringing round too,” Alaska said decisively, still clearly wanting to make the situation better for her girlfriend despite whatever had happened.

“Yes, if you two could go and start doing that as well, that’d be a huge help. And Willam, can I have you in with me for the interview?”

Willam paused, a little thrown. Sharon usually took Alaska with her for interviews. “You want me with you for the interview?”

“Eh, if you can spare the time!” Sharon snapped at her, clearly annoyed.

“Fine,” Willam blinked back, shrugging.

“God, where’s Bianca when you need her? Four journalists?” Sharon hissed again as she sat at her desk and picked up her phone. “Let’s hope we get some more on board before this Camembert Ritz girl does the interview otherwise I may as well be whispering the policy into the ear of a dead tramp.”

***

Willam sat just out of view of the cameras and out of reach of the microphone. She nervously picked with a small corner of her notebook as she watched Sharon- calm, smiling at the camera, gesturing a little but not too much like they’d practiced (Bianca had once described Sharon in interviews as “a sweaty octopus trying to unhook a bra”). Sharon was doing well, but Willam was always tense during interviews as she knew how wrong they could go. Brianna Cracker seemed pleasant enough though, and was smiling a little as Sharon answered her questions. So far, it was a good interview, and Willam thought she was perhaps almost able to relax. Sharon had answered the questions about her policy fluently and easily, and now there were just a few more to go before they could finish up.

“This policy has been described as the legislation that’s sewing the party back together, but nobody could miss the tension between you and some of the newer ministers at the party conference. What’s morale like around parliament?”

Willam rolled her eyes. The media were still trying to drag up the party conference drama despite Sharon and Sasha being absolutely fine now, aside from a few small debates within the Commons. Knowing Sharon would handle the question well, Willam turned to look at a bookshelf with a loose screw.

“Obviously the Prime Minister has backed you on this policy, but surely you can’t ignore the most recent public polls- will there be people jumping ship in the coming months?” Brianna continued, Willam frowning at her deeply. Her smile which had once seemed easygoing now looked slightly scheming, and Willam prayed they wouldn’t have another Shangela Wadely situation on their hands- Brianna Cracker didn’t look like the type of person who was going to send flowers to Sharon’s door the next day apologising and thanking her for her LGBT representation.

“Look, everybody has a dip in opinion polls every so often- I had one a couple of months back-” Willam winced- error, she shouldn’t have reminded the media of that, “- but I recovered from it and pushed forward. The Prime Minister was elected for a reason, by the public, and they have complete trust in him and so do I.”

“So you wouldn’t like to see a female leader any time soon?” Brianna questioned, cocking an eyebrow thoughtfully. Sharon paused and turned to Willam, her face set in a grimace of pain. Willam understood why- Sharon was currently a strong face of feminism in the public eye and she didn’t want to undermine that, but she also couldn’t risk undermining the Prime Minister. Willam gave her an encouraging smile, knowing that Sharon would have the words to articulate herself properly.

“I mean at some point, yes, I would absolutely love there to be a female leader, but- but that point isn’t now,” Sharon began, nervously interrupting herself as she hastily explained what she meant. “Of course within society itself we are at the point where there should be female leaders, and eventually there should be a female PM, but I believe that our current Prime Minister is the best man for the job, and we should let him get on with that job!”

Brianna smiled, satisfied with the answer, which in turn made Willam release a breath she’d been holding. Relaxed, she fiddled with the loose screw. “With the upcoming by-election-”

“I’m so sorry,” Sharon suddenly interrupted, prompting Willam to look up at her sharply. Sharon was looking at her with a tentative face. “I said best man for the job. I should say best person.”

Willam blinked, thought a little, then frowned. “You’d have to be really PC to pick up on that.”

“I think I should change it- could we just go again?” Sharon addressed Brianna, who gave a comfortable gesture and asked the previous question again. Willam eyed Sharon as she gave much the same answer as last time.

“…eventually at some point, there should be a female leader, but I believe that our current PM is absolutely the best person for-”

Sharon’s final two words were cut off, however, as the bottom shelf of the bookcase suddenly clattered to the floor, its metal clang cutting through the room and making everyone jolt a little. Willam looked at the previously loose screw which was now lying on the floor.

Shit.

Sharon turned again to Brianna, smiling a slightly forced smile. “You did get that, right? Best person.”

“Oh, we got it. Don’t worry. Thanks so much for the interview Ms Needles, it was a pleasure,” Brianna smiled, reaching out a hand for Sharon to shake which she did. Willam saw her shoulders dropping, tension gone as she was happy the interview had gone well, and Willam supposed she could relax too.  

Coming out of the small meeting room that the interview had been set up in, Willam saw Courtney and Alaska perched waiting at their desks, eager for news of how it had gone.

“So? Smiles? Happiness?” Courtney began, a hopeful smile on her face.

“It went well!” Sharon replied, optimistic, then looked at Willam. “Didn’t it?”

Willam gave a shrug. “Seemed to. Back to prepping for tonight then? I still have about 90 leaflets to print. Although I should make that 4, shouldn’t I?”

“Shut up,” Sharon glowered at her, instantly annoyed at being reminded of Jinkx’s incompetence. They were both about to head back to their desks when a thunder of footsteps could be heard from down the corridor, as if someone was running full pelt, and a loud, out-of-breath gasping gradually added to the frantic noise too. Frowning, Willam took two steps forward towards the source of the noise when suddenly Bianca rounded the corner, her nostrils flared, a blaze burning in her eyes, and her face shiny with sweat.

“Morning, Bianca,” Jinkx greeted her lazily from her monitor, Bianca completely ignoring her as she stormed towards the two girls.

“I am going to fuck Three Mobile very rapidly and painfully up the arse with a rusty fucking poker, can you believe their fucking network is down?!” Bianca began, her voice a growl of frustration. “So I have been running around Westminster like a chicken with its fucking cock cut off delivering messages in person when a text could be fucking sufficient! I swear to Christ!”

“Yes, that does sound a bit…shit,” Willam hesitantly agreed with her, Bianca so angry that she was addressing Sharon and Willam as if they were personally responsible for the Three network. “Erm. Did you want to see us?”

Bianca widened her eyes incredulously at her. “No, I didn’t want to see you. I’ve just run all the way from Richmond Terrace to Dosac to stand in your department and helicopter my tits around- no, I didn’t come here to see you at all.”

Willam blinked back at her, well and truly clamped. Having made her point, Bianca looked at Sharon and carried on.

“I wanted to tell you to push back the BBC interview an hour so that I could come and brief you, but, having just seen Miz Baby-New-Potato Head herself Brianna Cracker exiting the building, I’m assuming I’m too fucking late.”

“You would be correct,” Sharon said, her face set in an apologetic frown. Bianca seethed and clenched a fist, then seemed to relax.

“Okay well, how did it go?”

“Good. We did all the policy launch stuff and the basic outline like you’d told me to in the past.”

“Well, that sounds uncomplicated enough,” Bianca gave a whisper of a shrug, Willam hoping that it signalled approval.

“She did ask me about the Prime Minister…” Sharon continued awkwardly.

“And?”

“I said he was the best man for the job.”

Bianca’s brow furrowed. “And?”

“Well I changed it to best person, but a bookshelf fell down and I don’t know if they got it.”

Bianca looked between Willam and Sharon, her face set in a look of disbelief. “A bookshelf fell down? What is this, a fucking Fawlty Towers episode?”

“I just didn’t know if they’d make something of it. Me saying best man, it might make people think I was implying I was the best woman?” Sharon bit her lip, a little worried. Bianca stood up and shook her head.

“Nothing will happen. You couldn’t interpret that as a leadership bid,” Bianca began, shaking her head quickly. “The media are already having a field day with the PM’s approval dropping and the by-election coming up, they won’t bring you into the mix as well.”

“But they might want to use this as ammunition against the PM?” Sharon insisted, her face growing panicked.

“Sharon, I wouldn’t worry,” Bianca frowned, standing up decisively.

“But Bianca-”

Turning around suddenly, Bianca snapped. “Okay, you want to know the real reason they won’t make something of this? You’re not leadership material. You’re too hot-headed and outspoken and you do too much talking and not enough listening.”

Sharon stood for a moment, her mouth open in shock. Remembering where she was and collecting herself slightly, she simply sniffed and shrugged. “Well. I’m not attempting to be leadership material anyway.”

“Right,” Bianca nodded sharply, turning on her heel and making to leave. “I’ll be back to brief you on PMQs at one, and obviously for your launch. Start working on your speech.”

As Bianca made her way down the office and turned the corner out of the department, the only noise that could be heard was the small murmur of the comms team as they answered phones and replied to emails. Courtney was looking at Sharon in shock from her place on the desk, and Willam wasn’t really sure what to say. Bianca was known for being harsh, but she’d never been this harsh with Sharon, at least not in front of Willam. As Willam turned to look at Alaska to gauge her reaction, the familiar iPhone ringtone sounded and Alaska slid off her desk, swiping across her phone and holding it to her ear as she hurried out of the department too.

“Are you okay, Sharon?” Courtney asked as she approached the Minister. “That was quite…a lot.”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m fine. I just…” Sharon trailed off, leaning on the frosted glass wall of her office and looking at the floor in disappointment. “I really thought I could be Prime Minister at some stage.”

“Did you?!” Willam asked, blinking in shock. She never knew that Sharon had ambitions like that at all. Sharon, for her part, looked at her incredulously.

“Yes! Didn’t you?”

Willam was taken aback at her accusing tone. “No, of course, I just never expected you to-”

“Okay, right,” the three girls were interrupted by Jinkx, who was standing up from her position on the other side of the room with an uncomfortable look on her face.

“What’s wrong with you? You look like you’ve shat a sea urchin,” Willam questioned.

“The BBC have put it on their website.”

“Put what?” Sharon asked, crossing the office briskly to Jinkx’s computer.

“You saying that the PM is the best man for the job…and they’re saying that you’ve fired the starting pistol for an election?”

Sharon tore her hands through her hair as Willam’s heart sank. “No! I said best person, and the fucking bookcase fucking fell down!”

“This is bad,” Courtney said, frowning and biting her lip.

“What do we do? We can’t contact Bianca thanks to Three cunting Mobile,” Willam frowned, inspecting the video of the interview playing on Jinkx’s screen.

“Fucking BBC and their fucking new journalists, YOU said she was nice!!” Sharon exclaimed, pointing at Jinkx accusingly. “What kind of name is Brianna Cracker anyway, do people not think before naming their children?!”

“Apparently not, Sharon Needles,” Willam deadpanned, receiving a death glare in return.

“Kill it, just kill the whole thing. Just kill the BBC,” Sharon spat, clearly irritated by the whole situation.

“Are you sure that’s the right thing to do? Maybe making a fuss about it will make them think they’ve got something on us, something they can really run with,” Courtney frowned, offering her suggestion tentatively.

“Courtney, I appreciate the advice, but right now I want this shut down. The only thing I want my face associated with today is my policy launch, which is happening tonight by the way because everyone seems to have forgotten!” Sharon cried, turning on her heel and disappearing into her office.

Courtney and Willam looked at each other blankly.

“Poor Sharon,” Courtney sighed, looking at the glass door which had just been slammed behind her. “Tonight will be alright, won’t it?”

“Of course it will, you’ve been behind half the organisation,” Willam reassured her, slipping an arm around her waist and enjoying the fact that she could just be near her and do those kinds of things without her heart feeling as if it was about to give out. “If you were the captain of the Titanic I don’t think it would’ve hit that iceberg.”

“Aw, how romantic. And historically inaccurate,” Courtney smiled, tilting her head to the side and kissing Willam gently. Someone, possibly Violet, made retching noises in the background.

“Do us a favour and actually vomit. Then maybe we could send it to the fucking BBC,” Willam rolled her eyes in the general direction of the comms team, reluctantly pulling away from Courtney. “Right, I’m going to get those leaflets sorted.”

“Hey,” Courtney stopped her just as she’d walked a little way from the comms desks, a small smile on her face as she held Willam’s hand gently. “Happy month anniversary.”

Willam tried to prevent the massive dumb smile from spreading across her face, but it was impossible not to. “Happy month anniversary. Although that term is a wild contradiction, but still. The sentiment that counts, right?”

Courtney laughed softly, squeezing Willam’s hand in her own. “It’s just been…the best time. And you really mean a lot to me. Every day I think about how lucky I am to have you.”

Willam felt her face go red as she looked to the floor. She wasn’t one to get embarrassed easily, but Courtney had that effect on her.

“I always wake up so happy to know that I’m with you, and I love spending time with you, even if it’s just at work,” Courtney continued, her face suddenly becoming a mix of playful and reprimanding. “And I never thought I would be having this conversation at work, but someone hasn’t invited me back to their flat yet.”

That moment was defining, thought Willam. Standing there in the middle of work holding Courtney’s hand and hearing her say all these things served to remove some kind of mental barrier in her head. She made a decision.

“Well, tonight. After the policy launch. Come back to mine, we can get a takeaway and we can…see where we go from there,” Willam smiled, bringing her arms around Courtney again. Courtney’s face lit up.

“Oh Christ, you’re serious? Amazing. God, that’s embarrassing, I feel like a bloody teenager.”

“You’re never embarrassing,” Willam brushed a bit of hair out of her face, then gave Courtney a squeeze and stepped back. “But for now, policy launch shit needs doing.”

“I can think of something else that needs doing.”

Willam feigned shock. “Courtney Act, I should be hiring you out to Babestation for £5 a minute.”

As the two of them laughed, another barrier broke down in Willam’s head. If everything went well tonight, she decided she would do something that she had only ever done once before in her life. It was terrifying, but she wanted to take the risk even if it meant rejection.

She was going to ask Courtney to be her girlfriend.

As she smiled at Courtney returning to her desk and sat down, Alaska re-appeared from around the corner looking furtive.

“The wanderer returns,” Willam said under her breath, causing Alaska to come her way.

“What did I miss?”

“The BBC are gunning for Sharon. Which you would know,” Willam sighed and leant back in her chair, “if you weren’t dashing in and out of the department all the time to answer your phone. Alaska, are you going to tell me what the fuck’s going on?”

Alaska frowned and made to walk away. “It’s just Bianca.”

“Christ Alaska, if it’s an excuse, at least make it a good one. Bianca’s mobile provider is down.”

“Willam, it’s actually none of your business.”

“None of my bus- Alaska, I’m your friend!” Willam cried, trying her best to keep her voice down despite the anger pulsing through her. “I know you don’t need to tell me everything that goes on in your life, but I really don’t want this to be another secret I find out about by accident!”

“Then stop asking me,” Alaska sighed, her face seeming sad and plaintive before she turned and walked back to her desk.

Willam frowned as she clicked onto the leaflets. She had to get to the bottom of this strange behaviour from Alaska. If she was being honest and thinking back, Alaska had been behaving a little strangely since just before the party conference, shielding her phone, being a little bit jumpy. Then came the high school friend, or uni friend, or whatever the fuck it had been at the conference. Since then, her and Sharon hadn’t seemed quite right at all.

Willam thought. What if this friend was the reason something wasn’t right? What if this friend wasn’t a friend at all, but something more? Her heart sank. Surely Alaska would never do anything like that to Sharon. But she didn’t know. Maybe Alaska was so fed up of hiding their relationship from the public eye, and so angry at Sharon for not wanting to go public, that she decided to indulge in a secret of her own?

Looking onto her desk, she realised that Alaska had left her phone behind. As if it was fate, a text pinged up on her screen. Willam leant forward, careful not to pick up the phone, and took a closer look.

From Jeremy, 11.00am:  Fantastic, love. Obviously we can’t let anyone know until May but things are going so brilliantly just now. You’re amazing. See you at lunch x

Willam slowly leant back from Alaska’s phone and blinked, staring at nothing in particular.

This was bad.

This was really fucking bad.

Hundreds of questions began to fill Willam’s mind, but the main one was what the FUCK? She thought she’d known Alaska. She thought she was good enough of a friend to her that she could tell what her character was, what her morals were, what she might do and what she absolutely would never do. Something that Willam thought was beyond Alaska was anything to do with cheating, but now she just didn’t know. Or maybe Willam was interpreting things the wrong way, maybe the message had just been innocent? She shook her head. She was loath to read the text again, but she could remember key points: love, we can’t let anyone know, you’re amazing, and the stomach-churning “x” at the end. It would explain why Alaska had been running off to answer phone calls all day, although why he’d been phoning so frequently she didn’t know. All she knew was that she had to tell Sharon.

Or did she? Looking into Sharon’s office, she saw the woman visibly stressed, her fingers massaging her temples with a frown set deeply on her face. She had all this shit going on with the BBC, and her policy launch tonight. Did she really need this brought to her now? Willam bit her lip. If it was her in the same position, she would want to know. But it wasn’t her, it was Sharon, a very stressed and under-pressure Sharon, and Willam didn’t want to make her whole day worse. Besides, the naive part of Willam’s brain urged, she didn’t really have that much evidence, and it probably could be explained away easily.

She looked up as Alaska reappeared at her desk, obviously having realised she’d left her phone. Willam watched her as she picked it up, gave Willam a cursory, worried glance, and then hurried away with her phone close to her chest, her long acrylics tapping on the screen.

Yep. There was definitely a reasonable, innocent explanation to all of this.

***

If Willam had to pinpoint the moment that the day began to go downhill, it was the moment that Sharon stormed out of her office, the open door allowing the noise from outside to stream into the department. It sounded like a small crowd, all shouting and clamouring.

“There is a crowd outside of about ten journalists, and they are ALL here for me, and somehow I don’t think they want to talk about the policy launch tonight,” Sharon seethed, pointing dramatically to the windows.

“Ten?” Courtney repeated, looking to Willam nervously. Willam knew what she was trying to communicate.

“Ten constitutes a lockdown,” she said, Sharon staring at her incredulously. “Sorry Sharon. It’s Bianca’s rules, we go cold turkey on them, no phones, no emails, no exit, and they go away.”

“Fuck. I knew, I actually fucking said, that this would happen,” Courtney sighed despairingly, wrenching her department phone from its cable and slamming it on the desk.

“Can somebody get Bianca round here instantly before I have a fucking stroke,” Sharon breathed, appearing to be on the verge of a breakdown. Courtney was shouting to the comms team about the lockdown, the girls in response all groaning and shaking their heads. Willam smiled despite the situation- since they had got together Courtney seemed to have gained a bit more confidence than usual, and was actually shaping up to be fine leadership material if she ever had designs on that field.

She saw Alaska spring up from her desk on the other side of the room. Sharon followed her gaze.

“Alaska?” she called, but the other girl simply waved her away as, yet again, she ran out of the department to take a phone call.

Sharon was silent from her position beside Willam’s desk. Looking down and seeing that Willam’s eyes were already on her, she coughed. “She’s probably, um. Probably gone to phone Bianca.”

“Probably,” Willam agreed, then looked at Sharon again. She hadn’t been able to get anything out of Alaska, but she could maybe get somewhere with Sharon. Under her breath, she continued. “You two don’t really seem all sunshine and rainbows at the moment, everything okay?”

Sharon gave a heavy sigh, leaning forward on Willam’s desk. “We had a fucking monstrous row this morning. She wants to go public, I said no. She accused me of being ashamed of our relationship, I obviously told her in no uncertain terms how that was a steaming pile of cow shit,” Sharon folded her arms, looking down the corridor that Alaska had disappeared down. “She’s got a fucking cheek, to be honest, considering how weird she’s been acting all week.”

“Oh. Has she?” Willam played dumb. Sharon glared at the corridor.

“She’s been hiding her phone from me, going out for dinners with you allegedly- even though this Snap Chat thingy has a map that tells me where you and Courtney and people are, and you’re at home and she’s at The Ivy.”

Willam’s stomach tightened. Now would be the moment to mention things. But Sharon continued.

“I trust her. I do, I just. Things are hard. With the launch. And I really don’t have the time to think about or imagine worst case scenarios right now,” she exhaled, pushing herself off the desk. “So I’m just not thinking about it until everything is over. That’s not weird, is it? Am I being a total mug?”

Willam couldn’t help but give a snort. “Someone’s been watching too much Love Island.”

“That show is heterosexual trash and I won’t stand for it,” Sharon deadpanned, then looked at Willam in the eyes. “Seriously though, Willam. Am I being thick?”

Willam knew that she had to mention it. She had to say something now, otherwise she never would.

“Right!” Jinkx said from the other end of the office, breaking the hushed conversation in half and forcing both girls to look towards the head of comms. “I’ve got some good news, two pieces actually.”

“Well, we could certainly use some,” Courtney smiled tightly, inviging Jinkx to continue.

“Firstly, I’ve been able to get hold of Bianca through Number 10’s landline. She’s coming round so everyone just…gird your loins. Secondly,” she breathed in and looked at her laptop screen. “The Herald are backing Sharon’s leadership bid, because they admired the stance you took on the war on benefit claimants.”

Sharon’s jaw dropped. “Good news?? This is fucking catastrophically bad news!! No wonder Bianca’s coming over here, she probably wants to sever my head off!!”

“This is what you wanted though, right? I thought you had your sights set on leadership eventually?” Courtney offered, ever the optimist.

“But not now!! Not while the PM’s having a bloody ratings crisis and need support! Jesus scuttering Christ,” Sharon hissed, slamming her hands on Willam’s table and walking across the carpet to nowhere in particular. Willam didn’t miss Alaska re-appearing, sliding into her desk chair as if nothing had happened.

Sharon continued to pace around the office until Bianca arrived some minutes later, the look on her face reminding Willam of school when she was in serious trouble.

“Ah, Dosac,” Bianca began, her face set in a sarcastic smile. “Truly the Harry, Ron and Hermione of government departments. Why, why, fucking WHY is it always you?! The PM is as mad as a dickless dog, and he is particularly fucking furious with you, Sharon.”

“Bianca, please can we skip to the part where you mop up this mess for us, because currently the pavement outside my office is looking very splatty and comfortable and I just want to…fling myself at it with wild abandon,” Sharon sighed, rubbing her forehead.

“Calm down. I’ve got a plan,” Bianca said, her strong voice a welcome presence in the room. She turned around and addressed Jinkx. “Jinkx, I want you to get Sharon’s car outside.”

“My car?!”

“And Sharon, I just want you to pretend,” Bianca continued, “that you have a lunch, or a fake tan appointment, or some other fucking thing to attend to, and on your way out of the building, you address the journalists, and this is what you say.”

“Say?!” Sharon continued, her hand flying to her chest.

“You are not challenging the PM. You are not launching a leadership bid. The Prime Minister is the man to lead us for the foreseeable future. He is the man- of the moment! And then you just get in your car and, I don’t know, drive about a bit or attach a fucking hosepipe to the exhaust or whatever. Is that manageable?”

Sharon blinked, then rubbed her chin. “And you think it’ll make them all go away?”

“It’s worth a fucking try,” Bianca sighed, shaking her head. “But you need to give them something, Sharon, they know I’m in here because I had to fight through them with a fucking samurai sword to get in the bloody building.”

“Right,” Sharon said decisively, turning and running into her office to grab her bag. “Courtney, can I have you with me on this please?”

Courtney shot up from her desk and got herself ready. Alaska watched with detached interest from her own desk.

“Courtney, I need you on the phone with me throughout all of this,” Bianca addressed her, then shouted over to the comms team. “Can someone get the TV out?”

Willam felt a little overwhelmed. Everything seemed to be happening so quickly and she felt caught up in the momentum that Bianca’s idea was gathering.

“The man of the moment, the man of the moment, the man of the moment,” Sharon muttered to herself as she stormed down the department, Courtney running behind her and Bianca shouting encouragement after them both.

Willam, Alaska, Bianca and the comms girls immediately sat in front of the TV, which Adore had dutifully wheeled out, reminding Willam of primary school. Now, though, they weren’t about to settle down to watch a fun, educational programme about times tables- they were about to watch Sharon face the media, and the knot in Willam’s stomach only worsened as, through a BBC live stream, she saw Sharon appear through the revolving glass door. The press immediately hounded her for a statement.

“Miss Needles! Miss Needles. Does the Prime Minister have your backing?”

Sharon had that media-suitable smile on her face as she addressed the crowd. “Yes, the Prime Minister has my full support.”

“Miss Needles, does Alaska Thunder have your backing?”

And then the whole room froze.

Perhaps the TV screen had frozen but no, the journalists were still moving and shouting, but Sharon just stood completely still, her mouth hanging open, her face chalk white. Willam couldn’t look anywhere but the screen.

“I…what, sorry?”

“Alaska Thunder, your advisor? Are you backing her bid to be an MP?”

It was that moment that Willam turned her head to face Alaska, who was standing behind the sofa, fingers grasping the headboard for dear life, her face completely grave.

“I…don’t know anything about that, sorry,” Sharon continued, stuttering her words as she stood, confused, in the light of the cameras.

“Who are you backing, Miss Needles?”

Sharon momentarily let a look of irritation pass her face. “I’m backing the Prime Minister, he is absolutely the right man for the moment.”

Bianca exploded. “For the moment?! Courtney,” she addressed the other advisor on the phone. “get the dosy cow back up here, don’t let her get in the car!”

Willam couldn’t even process the blunder that Sharon had made. Her eyes were still trained on Alaska.

“Alaska,” she said quietly. “Who’s Jeremy?”

In the background on the news, she could hear Sharon repeating her mistake as she walked back into the department.

“Alaska.”

Alaska pushed herself off the headboard of the sofa and took a deep breath. Her voice was small as she began. “He’s my campaign manager. I was going to stand in the by-election for Westminster. Today I was going to find out if I had enough support.”

Willam let what seemed to be all the air out of her lungs at once.

“I, um. I hadn’t told Sharon.”

“Clearly,” Bianca frowned, looking at the TV and then at Alaska, Willam feeling a cold, prickling sense of dread overcoming her knowing that Bianca didn’t even know how bad this was going to be.

Five minutes of frosty silence later where the comms girls slinked awkwardly back to their desks, Sharon emerged and came charging towards the three of them. She targeted Bianca first.

“That was utterly fucking embarrassing, for fuck’s sake Bianca, why am I back up here?!”

“Can I just quote to you your own words? ‘The Prime Minister is the right man- FOR the moment’?” Bianca scowled, gesticulating wildly at Sharon, who had folded her arms in a defensive position.

“That was what you told me to fucking say!”

“OF the moment! I told you to say OF the moment! There is a huge fucking difference, and now it makes you look even more likely to form a fucking cabal!”

Ignoring the other woman’s wrath, Willam’s heart dropped as Sharon turned to face Alaska. She had a deeply hurt expression on her face.

“So! Alaska! Here’s the thing. Apparently you’re going to be an MP!” she began sarcastically, her mouth twisted in a smile that caused Alaska to look to the floor.

“I…didn’t want to tell you-”

“Oh no, no that was pretty fucking clear. So what was it, you were just going to tell me…when? When you were standing up there on the podium on election night? When?”

Willam watched as the whole department fell silent. Her eyes flickered to Bianca’s face. She could tell that she was beginning to see there was something going on.

“I wanted to tell you, I just-”

“Just what?! Just what, Alaska? Because from what I’ve experienced, when something major is happening in your life, you fucking tell your girlfriend about it!”

There was a small shift of movement and noise in the previously silent department. Two people had gasped. Like a horror movie, Willam found it impossible to look away to see who it had been, and she didn’t even want to look at Bianca’s face just now.

“Well you like keeping me a fucking secret so much, Sharon, so why aren’t I allowed one of my own?” Alaska yelled back, the two women openly shouting at each other now.

“What’s this really about, Alaska? Did you get bored of me? Have some fun with a cabinet minister, sleep your way to the top then once you gained enough power and influence you just sneak off into the night?” Sharon continued, her eyes slits as she glared at Alaska. Alaska, for her part, let out a bubble of a sob.

“You know what? Maybe I am bored of you, maybe I am bored of your self-centredness and your absolute dedication to work that involves shutting out other parts of your life, including me! You wouldn’t know this, Sharon, but every time I tried to bring up this MP shit the conversation would magically get sidetracked to you, to your policy launch, to your next interview, to how stressful things were for you, but never me! Never about my work! So why should I fucking bother?!”

“Christ, Alaska, well if you’re so unhappy, why don’t we just call it a day? Since you’re clearly this big, important rising political star! You don’t need me anymore!” Sharon spat, Willam wanting to do something, anything to calm them both down and steer the conversation away from where it was clearly heading.

“You know what, I don’t need you! I don’t fucking need you! I’ve never needed you!” Alaska shouted, tears openly flowing down her face as she sniffed again and again. “But if you let me go Sharon, you have fucking…done it, you have made a fucking mistake, you’re going to lose me for good, I swear to god.”

“What am I losing, Alaska, hm? An average fuck who makes a shit cup of tea who likes to fucking betray me and hang me out to dry at the drop of a hat? Wow, what a loss!” Sharon yelled back, and she had started to cry now, the black mascara tears running down her face. The two girls were in a knife fight, constantly lashing out and cutting and hurting one another whilst simultaneously mutilating themselves, and still Willam couldn’t look away. It was as if she was watching her friends fight through a dream, a nightmare, and perhaps she’d wake up, she had to wake up, this couldn’t be happening now.

“Fuck you,” Alaska spat quietly, her breath coming in shudders as tears rolled down her cheeks, and Sharon was a mirror image, raw emotion displayed on both their faces. “I loved you, Sharon.”

“And I loved you. But that’s politics, isn’t it?” Sharon gave a choked, angry laugh. “I loved you and you did all this behind my back, knowing how much it would undermine me and yet you still went ahead.”

“Well do you know what? Maybe this is for the best. Because now I see how much I really mean to you, compared to this job. I had always wanted to be an MP, and you can’t even support me in this? I thought I knew who you were,” Alaska cried, her voice a hoarse whisper in the silent department. “Now I see you’re just like like the rest of them, a fucking self-centred, vacuous, work-obsessed bitch!”

“Get out of my fucking department,” Sharon’s voice was low as she looked at the floor. “And get out of my life.”

And with that, Alaska gave a shuddering sob, letting her head hang as she walked quickly to her desk, scooped up her bag and coat, and ran out of the department just as Sharon had ordered her to. Nobody spoke, not even Bianca, and everyone watched as Sharon walked very slowly and deliberately to her office, making her way inside, grabbing the handle and slamming the door shut so loudly and forcefully that Willam could feel her blood vibrating.

Sharon’s sobs echoed through the building.

***

The rest of the afternoon and much of the evening leading up to the launch was something that could never normally be said of Dosac- it was quiet. Sharon stayed in her office and the mood around the department was somber, like that of a funeral. Alaska was notable by her absence, her computer still on in front of her desk chair as if she’d just popped out momentarily. Bianca had been in with Sharon and the two had spoken quietly, Willam assuming that Bianca had utilised some of her softer side as Sharon presumably told her everything that had gone on between her and Alaska for the past few months. After their meeting, Bianca had stayed in the department just in case anything further happened with the press. Eventually, Courtney rose from her seat and approached Willam’s desk.

“I thought it’d be nice if we maybe went and got Sharon some nice food and a coffee. She hasn’t eaten yet today and I feel like she could do with something after…everything,” she suggested.

So ten minutes later, Willam found herself waiting for a bento box in Itsu, while Courtney had popped out to Joe and The Juice to get Sharon a green smoothie.

“She’ll hate it,” she’d said by way of a momentary goodbye. “But it’s full of nutrients and she’ll need those. Oh, and get her a bottle of water. She’ll be all dehydrated from crying.”

Willam had done as she was told, and her order had just been called when Courtney arrived back from her smoothie-finding expedition.

“Ready to go? We should probably be getting back, the launch is in less than an hour. Although whether Sharon’s going to actually be able to do the launch, Christ knows,” Courtney bit her lip as Willam picked up the bag of sushi and they both walked out of the shop.

“Sharon’s made of tough stuff. She’ll be fine,” Willam said, although she would have been lying if she wasn’t doubting the words as they came out her mouth.

“I hope so. God, promise me we’ll never end up in an argument like that,” Courtney sighed, slipping a hand into Willam’s and making her feel warm despite the drizzling rain.

She laughed. “I don’t think you’re going to end up backstabbing and undermining me any time soon, Court.”

Courtney was silent for a moment and bit her lip. “Sharon said some shitty things, though.”

“She was angry, and I’m not saying it’s okay, but she won’t have meant it. Alaska, I think, is going to be deeply hurt. I’m worried about how they’re going to recover from this, you know how stubborn they both are.”

“I think they both think it’s completely over,” Courtney sighed, suddenly giving Willam a funny look. Pausing, her voice took on a different tone. “You knew, didn’t you? All this time. About them being together.”

Willam gave a brief and wordless nod. Courtney frowned.

“Why did you never tell me? I know I wasn’t your…with you, at that point,” Courtney corrected herself, making Willam’s heart leap a hurdle. “But I was still your friend. I was friends with the both of you. I know it would have been shit if it had got out, but still. I wouldn’t have told anyone.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Willam said truthfully. She really did regret not telling Courtney. Who knew, things might have been different if she had known. Maybe they would have been closer, and got together sooner. Willam inwardly kicked herself for idealising the situation for her own advantage as they both stepped back into the department.

“It’s okay. Just…tell me shit,” Courtney gave a soft laugh that was only slightly hurt, which made Willam feel even worse. Before she could attempt to apologise again, Courtney changed the subject as they got into the lift. “Do you actually think she’ll do the launch, Willam?”

Willam frowned. “I don’t know, but we’ve got to hope so.”

As the lift reached their floor, the two girls walked across the quiet office and gave a gentle knock on Sharon’s office, where the blinds had been pulled down. A faint call of permission came from inside, and Willam pushed down on the handle and entered the room. It was dark, as the lights had been switched off, and Sharon sat at her desk staring blankly, unnervingly, into space. In front of her sat her phone, a ripped envelope, and a typed piece of paper. Willam was confused, realisation only dawning on her as Courtney began talking.

“We got you something to eat. I know you might not want it, but you’ll need it for your launch tonight,” Courtney set it down on Sharon’s desk with a kind smile.

“Court,” Willam began gently.

“It’s just a bento box and a smoothie, and there’s some water there if you want it. Just try and eat something, Sharon, it might make you feel better?”

“Courtney,” Willam sighed, taking two steps forward to the desk and picking up the piece of paper. “She’s not going to do the launch.”

As she saw Courtney give her a questioning glare in her peripheral vision, Willam read the words on the paper which confirmed what she had already thought was true.

I’l be waiting at the launch tonight!! Hope your excited to die you terorist sympithiser bitch 

Passing the paper to Courtney, Willam’s heart sank as she looked at Sharon. Sharon’s unblinking, glassy eyes finally met her own.

“Bianca’s sent a car for me, and a bodyguard. They’re taking me home, and the guard’s going to stay with me in my flat. I’m not doing the launch,” Sharon said quietly, disappointedly, before looking to Courtney and giving a sad smile. “Thanks, though. For the food.”

Willam couldn’t help but be a little surprised. “You’re really not going ahead with it?”

“Willam!” Courtney hissed at her.

“What? I’m just saying. You’re Sharon Needles, the political tour de force. Just last month you gave a speech to a room much bigger than tonight after getting one of these bullshit death threats, we know they’re full of hot air. I’m just wondering what makes tonight so different?”

Sharon gave a mirthless laugh. “I don’t give a fuck about the threats. Let them threaten me, whoever they are. But Alaska,” her voice gave a crack as she said the other girl’s name. “I can’t do…anything without Alaska.”

Willam stood quietly. She had had no idea that Sharon would have been that affected by what had happened, presuming that she was the sort of person who would maybe have a cry about it and move on. She had had no idea that Sharon’s love for Alaska was so deep. “I’m sorry, Sharon.”

“No, don’t be sorry. I’m better off, I’m sure. I’ll be fine,” Sharon said coldly, Willam knowing immediately that her tone was meant to mask her real feelings.

“Sharon, I’m sure she wants to make up,” Courtney consoled her.

“I’m not going to hear anything from her today. And probably never will hear anything from her again.”

Just then, there was a soft knock on the door. Bianca’s head appeared from behind the glass, her face grave.

“Your car’s ready,” she said simply, frowning as she looked back into the office. “But there’s a lot of press arriving. Didn’t Jinkx cancel everything?”

“Fuck, I didn’t get her to cancel. I haven’t left this office, Bianca,” Sharon said, rubbing her already very swollen and red eyes. Bianca frowned, obviously ready to shout at her and then deciding that it could probably wait until she wasn’t heartbroken.

“Well, we’ll need to go and cancel it now. But this isn’t going to look good. At all,” Bianca said tersely.

“I’m sorry that me breaking up with my girlfriend is causing an inconvenience to Westminster,” Sharon deadpanned humourlessly, leaning back in her chair. Bianca gave her a steely glare.

“The girlfriend that you should never have got involved with in the first place and that you were very, very fucking lucky never found its way into the press,” Bianca muttered quietly, as Sharon hung her head. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “Right, well. That’s that then. I’ll go and tell Jinkx.”

Willam suddenly found her mouth opening before she could stop it. “I’ll launch it.”

The room seemed to buzz with silence. Sharon looked at Willam quizzically. Willam gave a shrug.

“It doesn’t technically need to be launched by Sharon. I know basically what it is, and could just explain it briefly. I know that Sharon would be conspicuous by her absence but it’s better than cancelling the whole thing.”

Sharon shook her head. “You really don’t have to do this.”

“I don’t, but I want to,” Willam said simply.

As soon as she glanced at Courtney and saw her looking at her proudly, she knew she’d made the best decision.

“Right. Okay then,” Bianca shrugged. “Well, we’ve not got long. Let’s get you miced up.”

The time passed very quickly after that, Willam thought, as she was rushed through a series of briefs from Bianca as Courtney spruced up her makeup and Sharon watched silently from her chair. It was crazy how much of a flurry everything was, and Willam wondered how Sharon could do this every day. She couldn’t help but think about Alaska; where she was now, what she might have been doing. She wondered if she was still going to go ahead with being an MP or whether she might ever patch things up with Sharon. Willam supposed that in any normal relationship that had lasted the length of hers and Sharon’s, things could have been repaired, but both the women were hot-headed, hot-tempered, and above all, stubborn. Willam caught Courtney’s eye as the other girl dashed back to her makeup bag to fetch something, and they shared a reassuring smile. Christ, she hoped nothing would ever go wrong between them.

Before long, Willam was standing at the door to a room which contained about twenty journalists, all phones-out and recorder-ready. Jinkx had explained that in the wake of the day’s events, she’d found it suddenly easy to get journalists to attend a Sharon Needles launch, many of them clearly hopeful that a leadership announcement would be forthcoming.

“Right. Okay. Guess I’m going to launch a policy that isn’t mine,” Willam took a shaky breath as she looked at Courtney, who was there for moral support. Courtney looked at her, her eyes soft, and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“You’ll be amazing. I know you’re going to do it justice. Sharon would be proud of you. I’m proud of you,” she said, giving her a smile and a kiss on the cheek. Willam’s heart thrummed in her chest as she remembered the promise she’d made to herself, and that if everything went well tonight she would finally be able to call Courtney her girlfriend. It seemed too outrageous to ever be true, but Courtney was beside her, holding her hand and smiling, and so Willam felt that maybe she had every reason to be optimistic.

The journalists looked disappointed as Willam walked across to a small podium beside a slideshow, ready to begin. Courtney stood just outside of the room at the door, and gave Willam a big thumbs-up. With a quick glance to the first slide, which read “New Communities- Sharon is Caring”, and then to the audience, Willam began to speak without having really planned which words would come out.

“Um. Hi everyone. No need to stand, as I said to Sharon Needles earlier today,” she laughed awkwardly, receiving radio silence from the audience. “In all seriousness I should clarify that Sharon Needles has no intention of challenging the Prime Minister and fully supports his visions for the future. Incidentally, erm, Sharon’s not here, she’s come down with something and has had to go home, but we thought that we should still have everyone here to celebrate the launch of this policy that Ms. Needles has managed to create. It is really something special.”

Willam clicked onto the next slide which revealed a pie chart and lots of figures. Panicking slightly, she looked to Courtney, who gave her a blank glance. Willam had never seen this powerpoint before, and with a sinking feeling she realised that Sharon and Alaska must have worked on it together.

“Um. Not really sure what that’s meant to represent, but…it’s definitely something good. Unless it’s a reference to the current opposition. In which case…it’s bad.”

Willam’s blood gave a jolt as the journalists began to laugh. She was always confident, especially in situations like this, and she never gave a fuck what people thought, but now she was self-conscious. She clicked onto the next slide, which showed a run-down street in the baking sun, with a disillusioned-looking black family sitting on the pavement outside a crumbling house. Okay, thought Willam. Easy enough reference, obviously the refugees that we’re meant to be welcoming.

“New Communities will provide stable, safe homes for victims of war or drone strikes in countries such as Syria or Iraq. This is an illustration of how families can live in such countries-”

The journalists were laughing again. Willam stopped abruptly and looked at Courtney, wide-eyed. Courtney motioned frantically to her phone. Willam immediately checked hers from under the podium.

C: TOWER HAMLETS!!!!!!!

C: IN LONDON!!!!!!!!

Willam’s stomach dropped. She needed out of the situation quickly.

“Anyway, all the literature is there on the tables at the back, help yourself to crisps and-”

Another murmur from the journalists made Willam stop, but this time they weren’t concerned with her. They were looking at the door. Willam followed their eyes and to her surprise she saw Sharon standing in the doorframe, her outfit immaculate and crumple-free, her makeup pristine, and a wide smile on her face which didn’t look the least bit fake. A tall, broad man in a suit stood beside her, clearly her newly-appointed bodyguard. As Willam met her eyes, she noticed they were still puffy, but the redness had been taken away by concealer. Sharon raised her eyebrows at her expectantly. Willam turned back to the journalists and stuttered.

“And…here is Sharon Needles, to explain New Communities better than I ever could.”

With that, the audience clapped, and Sharon walked up to the podium quickly and confidently with her bodyguard following her like a shadow, her back straight and her head held high. Willam walked to stand beside Courtney, both their faces the picture of shock. As Sharon started speaking, Willam leaned in to Courtney.

“How the fuck-”

“I don’t know,” Courtney answered immediately, shaking her head. “But let’s hope it goes well. We’ll stay and watch this then go back to yours, right?”

Willam smiled and nodded, her heart immediately thumping quickly again, and was about to say something when Biana appeared in the doorway and took Willam’s arm.

“A word?”

Willam grimaced as she was led out the room. She immediately assumed she was about to be bollocked for the mess she’d made of the launch. But as Bianca led her into a small resource room, her face wasn’t particularly grave, which gave Willam hope.

“That was a very courageous thing to do, Willam. An advisor launching a cabinet minister’s policy.”

“Why is she out there? How is she out there? Bianca-”

“I just gave her a pep talk. Asked her if she really wanted Willam fucking Belli to be the face of her policy for years to come,” Bianca gave a smirk, Willam rolling her eyes.

“Was this an actual pep talk, or a launch-the-fucking-policy-before-I-replace-your-eyes-with-party-poppers pep talk?”

“Hey, I can be quite fucking motivational when I want to be,” Bianca chastised her, picking up a random pen from a shelf and fidgeting with it.

Willam frowned. “Bianca, there was another threat on her life.”

“Oh, come on Willam, do you not think I know that? Did you not see the fucking six foot man mountain Phil Mitchell wannabe I sent her in there with? Besides, she’ll be fine. Anyway, I’m not here to talk about Sharon,” Bianca’s eyes suddenly bore into Willam’s, Willam suddenly wondering if she was about to receive praise or censure. “I’m here to talk about you. You remember the jobs I was talking about at Number 10?”

“Yeah, of course,” she replied, wondering immediately where this was going. Her newly-optimistic brain was immediately hopeful.

“Well, I don’t want to get your hopes up, but I wanted to let you know you’re in the frame. The PM will be starting the selection process in a few weeks. We’ve been talking, and we’re both impressed by your skill set,” Bianca said, her face letting Willam know that nothing she was saying was a joke.

She could hardly believe it. “Jesus, Bianca, that’s amazing. Thank you. Seriously, thank you-”

“Although,” Bianca continued, her eyes narrowing. “You know how word gets round. Is it true you’ve shacked up with the blonde kangaroo herself out there?”

Willam’s blood froze, her heart suddenly hammering in her ears. “How the fuck did you know about that?”

“Well, when the whole of Dosac knows,” Bianca gave a small laugh. “Then obviously it was only a matter of time until I found out.”

Willam gave a sardonic snort. “So Alaska and Sharon kept their relationship a complete secret for about nine months but you instantly know about me and Court within one?!”

“So it is true!” Bianca smiled, happy to have confirmed what she had been suspecting. Willam swallowed.

“Well. We’re not ‘shacked up’ but yes, we’re seeing each other,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t betray how nervous she felt. Where the fuck was Bianca going here?

“That’s great. Lovely! And I’m happy for you both, I really am. It’s just…” Bianca trailed off, letting her gaze drop to the floor. “You know what it’s like at Number Ten. It gets busy, and stressful, and intense, and if we’re hiring somebody, we need to know, really know, that they’re committed to the job. That there’s not any distractions going on. If you know what I’m saying.”

Willam felt the panic rising in her head. At once, she saw the job, her job, the job she’d wanted in the building she’d wanted for so long, slipping away from her. “No, of course! I mean, of course not. Me and Courtney, it’s not…it’s not a serious thing, you know, it’s one of those things that’ll fizzle out after a while. I’m not…attached. Like that. I wouldn’t. You know, Court’s nice, but…it’s not like that, Bianca, it really isn’t, my job is my job and I’d…I’d do anything for that Number 10 job and I don’t give a fuck how desperate it sounds.”

“Well, I’m not asking you to get down on your knees and beg! Don’t shit yourself,” Bianca laughed. “But as long as I have your assurance that this isn’t a big long-term thing then?”

“Oh no, no. It’s…about as short term as it gets!” Willam gave an awkward laugh. She knew she was lying through her teeth, and she wondered how she’d deal with things when Bianca found out that her and Courtney were in fact serious and that they were about to become the girlfriend kind of serious, but she could cross that bridge when she was sitting at a desk in Downing Street.

“Good,” Bianca smiled briefly, before opening the door and exiting the cupboard. “See you tomorrow, Willam.”

Willam’s heart gave a leap. This was fucking incredible- she was going to ask Courtney to be her girlfriend, and she was in the running for a job at Number Ten. It was like all her lucky days had come at once. Instantly, she walked quickly back to the press conference to tell Courtney, but suddenly realised that it must have finished as she was talking to Bianca. She almost ran back to the department, her heart feeling as if it was about to take off as she ran up to Courtney who was busy pulling her coat on and getting ready to leave.

“Court! Court, I just spoke to Bianca, and she told me that I’m on the shortlist to work at Number Ten! Can you fucking believe it?!”

And then everything seemed to turn into a long, slow, painful violin glissando as Willam realised that Courtney was looking at her through the iciest stare that Willam had seen fixed on her in a long time, and Willam instantly knew what had happened.

The door to the resource room had been ajar.

“Courtney-” she began, instantly trying to make amends, but Courtney immediately jumped in in front of her.

“Well, I’m really glad you’re happy, Willam. The job clearly means a lot to you. I’m going home now,” she said, in a voice that made Willam’s blood run cold. She’d never heard Courtney talk like this, never in all her time of knowing her. But now that tone was being reserved for her, and it made Willam feel physically sick, fuck, why had she told Bianca such a stupid fucking lie?

“Court, please,” Willam tried again, Courtney simply looking at her emotionlessly. Willam found herself hoping to see tears in Courtney’s eyes, a clue that perhaps Courtney did still hold some affection towards her and that everything could be talked out and fixed, but her eyes were cold and hard and Willam felt all the optimism draining away from her body. “Everything I said was a big, massive fucking lie just so that I could get that job, nothing I said was true at all. I don’t know what you heard, but-”

“I heard enough,” Courtney said coldly, her voice seeming to be the only thing that Willam could hear in the room, even though she wasn’t talking particularly loudly. The comms girls continued to talk amongst themselves mere feet away. “Well, I don’t know, Willam, but it all seemed like pretty impassioned lying to me. I’m glad you can lie, I’m glad it comes so naturally to you. You’re clearly very good at it.”

Willam stood frozen to the spot. She couldn’t move. Courtney’s stare continued to freeze her whole body as she paused, then continued talking. “I remembered everything, Willam. The night of Alyssa Edwards’ ball? I remembered every single fucking thing. But you know why I pretended I’d forgotten? Because I thought you and me would have been a bad idea. Even though I’ve had feelings for you since longer than I can remember, by the way. But no, I thought we would have been a bad idea, so I ignored my feelings. I thought you maybe felt the same way, and then it turned out that you did, and I was so happy. But I was right, it wasn’t a good idea. Me and you. So, uh, I’m going home, as I said. And I think it’s best that we don’t continue seeing each other, don’t you? Keep things strictly professional. You’re good at that, Willam. You’re good at your job, I’m glad it makes you happy. So, I’ll, um. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Courtney grabbed her bag from on top of her desk and began to make her way past Willam. Willam, for her part, couldn’t find the words to say anything. What could she say? Anything she did say would have been completely useless, or would only make things worse. Just as she reached Willam, Courtney turned around, and Willam found her stupid heart hoping that maybe she’d take everything back, that she’d sigh and suggest a way they could fix things. Maybe that was the way forward.

“Court, we can fix this,” Willam felt herself saying, the words feeling cheap as soon as she’d said them. Courtney gave a slow, sarcastic smile that was filled with nothing but contempt.

“You know, I can’t believe I allowed myself to fa-” Courtney began, then trailed off as she looked to the floor, a flash of sadness crossing her face before she steadied herself and looked Willam in the eye again. “The only thing you’re going to be fixing anytime soon is the next election. Have a good night, Willam.”

Willam’s eyes stared into the same space Courtney had been as she left, her footsteps slowly retreating. Willam heard her shout a goodbye to the comms girls, a stark contrast of normality to the conversation that had just taken place. Willam blinked. She wasn’t a crier. She never cried. She was just really, really, really fucking upset, like someone had brutally forced a shard of glass through her ribcage. It dawned on her after a while that she must have been standing in that same spot beside Courtney’s desk for minutes. Suddenly, she was struck with a feeling of having no fucking idea of what to do.

So she did what she could do; she walked slowly over to her desk, pulled on her coat as if she was sleepwalking, then began to make her way to the lifts to go home. As she walked past the comms girls, she heard Katya’s voice drift through the department.

“Oh, fuck yes, I forgot I still had maltesers in this bag! I knew today was going to be a good day.”

As she left the department, Willam had an unbelievably powerful urge to turn the lights off behind her, to keep walking and never turn back, or to never stop.

[love-mom17]

6.27.18 (Super long update)

Hello you guys! I want to apologize for being MIA during my last month of my pregnancy. Let me just tell you that I have finished school. I finished school on June 13 :). Which I am very happy about.

I did give birth to my little boy on May 28th. Little one was born on his exact due date. Let me go ahead and give you guys all the details because it has been a rough road for me.

Lets go ahead and back track to my last month and a half of my pregnancy. As usual I was having problems with my manager. I was just ready to get the hell out of there. It was very stressful for me. Two weeks before I was about to go on maternity leave, As I was showering... I ended up losing my balance as I was stepping out of the tub. I was luckily able to catch my fall right on the edge of the tub so I didn’t hit/hurt my self. So that was my first scare.

During my last week of work, while I was at school eating fruit, I didn't realize that my fruit had a freaking maggot in it. I honestly wasn't sure if I had ate anything but I mean I was pretty worried just because of the bacteria it could have had. I was more concerned of my little one so I did go to my doctor and he was just like nothing is wrong. They did draw some blood just to make sure I had no bacteria. Second Scare... 

At this point I'm just like can anything go any worse. By this time I'm only going to school and im no longer working. THANK GOODNESS!!! (lol) So I had spent majority of my day with my mom. It was the 23rd of May about 5pm when I arrived home.  My husbands aunt was at the house. She was asking me if wanted to have dinner yet. I wasnt really hungry but I was just like yea sure.. While she was fixing my plate, I decided to let my dogs out. As I let my dogs out... Two of my dogs, which happen to be chihuahuas were running full speed towards the damn fence to jump it... which they have done it several of times before. But any who.. I yelled at them not to jump but they didn’t listen. the first dog didn’t successfully jump on the first try... so in my head I was like “HA MOTHER FUCKER” LOL I was like okay I have enough time to get to them before they jump... I happened to be on the phone with my husband so he was cracking up at me yelling at them. As I am walking towards them I feel my legs just going and going. But I had no idea what the hell was going on. Next thing you know I hear my husbands aunt yelling my name, Im on the fucken ground. All I'm thinking is did I land on my belly. My husbands aunt is running towards me and I'm just trying to keep my cool. At that point I was like ok Nancy listen to you body. His aunt helped me up and I'm just confused of what happened. - - I didn’t land on my stomach I only swiped the side of it. So yes I did have some grass marks on my shirt. I was bleeding from my forearm on my left arm. I landed mostly on my left side... Then I'm just mind blown... how was it that while I was falling even though I had no idea I was falling.. How did I manage to swoop my body to the side before I fell on the ground..  My parents live about 25-30 min. away from me, and during that time theres always bad traffic in Dallas.  My husband is yelling for me through the phone, I picked it up and told him what just happened. He told me to call his sister, she literally lives about 3 minutes away from us. 

I went to the ER, they took me right in. The whole time I was just like “I have to remain calm so that the doctors can find whatever they need to find quick” I don't know how I remained calm throughout the whole time I was there. While I was there they were telling me that I was having contractions however I didn't really feel them. I was only a few days from my due date. They did check on the baby and they said that he was just fine. He had nothing happen to him. They kept me there for 6 hours just to make sure I didn’t go into labor. Nothing happened.

Sunday May 27th, we slept in a little that day. Still no sign of my little one coming any time soon. My mother in law invited us over to go have brunch with them. After that we came back home. I jokingly said “I'm going to bounce the baby right out of me” I was heading over to the yoga ball. Eventually I felt a bit of discomfort in my lower back. I didn’t think much of it just because it was dull. I sat on the floor for a bit. My husband was just like he's not going to come any time soon. He will come when he's ready. I was like “ did you hear that baby, he's betting you won't come any time soon”... Once I got tired of sitting on the floor I stood up. I felt a bit of water come down.... at first I thought I had peed a little.. but it didn’t smell like pee. I told my husband I think my water just broke. BUT not completely? and he was like lets just go to the ER to avoid anything from happening. They confirmed that I was in labor. I was in labor for 21hrs.... I was not able to dilate even after they gave me medication so I ended up having a c-section. When I tell you that I fell in love with just hearing him cry, I truly did. Little man came up in front of the curtain and I saw him. He was so long and hairy lol. I saw his big long fingers. I was like of course he was long... he was making me feel all sorts of ways while he was in me. He was 8lbs 2oz.

Finally, I thought to my self. nothing can go wrong. I have my healthy little boy with me and theres nothing that can happen... 

This last week, I noticed that my little man was getting constipated. I was a little worried but didn’t want to think anything negative. eventually he began to vomit everything he drank.. at first I thought it was the formula, so I changed it on Friday. Saturday he was the same. Finally I told my husband that he was just vomiting immediately after eating.  Before he was able to keep down some feedings so I did honestly think that it was the formula. I was originally doing both breast feeding and formula but I had a tooth extracted and I was on meds.. so I couldn't feed him. So I felt bad because I thought all of this was my fault. when we were at the ER they confirmed with us that he had Pyloric Stenosis. 

Pyloric Stenosis is when the muscles at the end of the stomach where the intestines connect had hardened. Causing him not to be able to digest anything he was drinking. The only way to fix that was through surgery. So here is my 4 week old going into surgery. He actually had surgery on Monday. Everything went well and was a fast procedure. 

So you can say I've been pretty busy with life... but I thank God for all the positive outcomes in all of this.

[habbadax]

Actually hang on lemme try something:

This post is image heavy:

-=+=-

I went on a three week trip and one of the things I took to keep myself sane was a laptop with Dorf Fort on it

There are two successful fortresses from that trip. This is one of them. This is the Barony of Rigothdeler:

It has had a lot of problems. And only very recently has it become a stable fortress with functional industry and a lovely motte and bailey. I'm quite proud of it

-=+=-

Rigothdeler's story starts right here:

This is the beating heart of Rigothdeler. A tetrahedrite mine.

And this is where everything started, and almost ended a few times. Initial surveys claimed there was no aquifer. There is an aquifer. And it is a heavy aquifer.

There were a lot of attempts and experiments. I learned the rough way just how heavy the aquifer is.

I don't actually remember how so many fucken dorfs died in that big hole. The only ones I remember were the ones that fell in during The Great Remodeling. Which took place after the tunnel was finally complete.

Luckily, it's a shallow aquifer. So once all the engineering was finally done, the original plan could finally proceed:

We would mine

Eight levels down, phyllite is quarried out in massive amounts to be turned into blocks. And the tetrahedrite is hauled up to the smelters to be turned into copper and silver.

Originally, the plan was to mine iron. Unfortunately, no iron was found at the site. I actually ditched the save for a while after that revelation. Which led to the creation of the [i]other[/i] fort I spent my time with. Which I'll post about later.

But Rigothdeler [i]compelled[/i] me. Especially now that we had stone.

With stone came comfort. And with silver came wealth. Rigothdeler is still fed mainly by caravans, because I've been too busy building to set up proper agriculture

More focused pictures from around the fort, in no particular order:

Workers pry up the boards for the old bridge. Soon, it will be converted to a stone structure.

The barracks and armory for the militia. With controls for the outer gates, and the stairway leading up to the north tower.

The water wheels are all that's left of the old drainage aqueduct. Water used to be pumped out into the drainage canals. Later, I decided an aquifer would be a good way to power some millstones. Keen eyed viewers may notice that this idea has yet to come to fruition,

The Snack of boots sits mostly empty. Most Dorfs are busy with construction, and gathering the latest lumber harvest.

The inner courtyard. Archery targets are lined up by the South wall. Unsorted trade goods sit in the depot. Inside, the hospital is left cluttered after the last of the wounded are finally treated.

Wood from the surrounding forest is hauled in, and then sorted.

The sally gate sits shut in the outer courtyard. And the first visitors have begun to arrive at the newly constructed tavern, The Cook of Diamonds.

Children run amok in the dormitory

In the temple of The Waxy Flax, Sakzul Fathurol, commander of the Whips of Genius, meditates on metals.

In the Crystalline Cathedral next door, her subordinates Mistem, Udil, and Meng worship their god. While a small swarm of children climb all over the temple furniture

The hospital well. Possibly the dumbest part of the fortress. It's one of my favorite parts.

Carpenter's shops turn out fine furniture in walnut and chestnut. While peach and apple make up the majority of charcoal production.

The tops of the stone towers dotting the walls. Originally, the westernmost tower was a simple wood watchtower. It was converted to stone when the walls went up.

Should the sally gate ever be opened, archers will be posted in this tower, to shoot invaders through the grates as they come up the ramp below.

At the North and South ends of the palisade, there are squat, simple gatehouses, with a small watchtower. And the controls for wooden gates.

This is where we put all the dead guys. Which there have been a lot of since the weremammoth issue.

That's all, for now!

-=+=-

Yeah, I can even just copypast it right over from the forum posts. Except I have to put the images in manually, but that’s easy

I just saw somebody post a thirteen-minute YouTube video about the fact that the Steam page for Dwarf Fortress has added a new screenshot, and while for any other game I’d regard that as excessive, in the case of Dwarf Fortress I’m prepared to believe that a single screenshot might legitimately contain that much new information.

[newtts-scamander]

Just a Little Bit of Your Heart

Imagine: You are holding your first public art exhibition. Although you think that Tom understands how important this night is to you, you are once again proven wrong. Nonetheless, a little bit of his love is better than none. Right?

A/N: I was inspired by harry styles’ original track. listen to the live version while you read, cause I did and I was a fucken mess. sorry for the angst, I love you. x

Your head spun. The dizziness was overwhelming as you gazed down from the railing into your art studio. It was a lot cleaner than usual. No spray cans or paint brushes were left astray. In fact, a large crowd littered around, chattering and admiring the sculptures and paintings which you had created. Blue and purple lights bounced off the walls within the room; causing dark, intricate shadows to be created around the guests.

You felt sick; butterflies bursting within your stomach at merely the thought of what your audience might be thinking about your exhibition. Your expression faltered as your eyes spotted Tom within the crowd. A beer was clutched in his left hand, sipping it occasionally as he nodded along to a story being told by one of your other friends. What surprised you, however, was the petite girl who clung onto his arm. Her long, silky blonde hair fell down her slim, exposed back as she laughed along to the story, gazing up to look at Tom’s expression every so often. It’s probably nothing, you thought.  

You knew that Tom and yourself weren’t ‘exclusive’. In fact, it hadn’t seemed to come up in any conversation, despite the increasing number of kisses you had shared since he had returned from America. Yet, you couldn’t allow yourself to ignore the faint stinging sensation that you felt in your chest as you watched him carefully wrap his arm around her shoulder. Bowing your head, your eyes squeezed closed; a breath of air tumbling from your soft, red lips.

“I must be out of my mind,” you admitted to yourself. Lifting your eyes up, you looked at your reflection; fixing the black, silk dress which hugged your body. Your cleavage was very prominent. Yet, there was something about the dress that made you feel extremely elegant. Tonight’s my night, you thought.

Shaking your head, you downed the remnants of some pink, bubbly liquid from an abandoned champagne flute. Checking yourself one more time in the mirror you nodded, smiling at your reflection. Feigning composure, you steadily made your way down the flight of stairs in your heeled boots and towards your group of friends.

“Look who it is! The woman of the hour,” your best friend, Sean, cheered from behind you. Despite the music which filled the atmosphere, numerous pairs of eyes were directed towards your actions as you moved towards him. Numerous cheers and congratulations were thrown at you from surrounding family friends, creating a whole-hearted smile to be smeared across your face. You stifled a laugh, taking a sky bow before turning around towards him. A sense of easiness washed over you as you were enclosed within Sean’s lanky arms. A small congratulations and praise being sung into your ear as he did so.

“You look hot, babe!” Sean wooed, holding you at arm’s length. Pulling you into his side, he nodded towards the other side of the room. “Look at what the cat dragged in over there... No one said it would be easy, but Christ, bringing another girl? He’s got some balls.”

Flickering your eyes up from the ground, your eyes fell upon Tom. He was turned away, not aware of your presence as of yet. A content smile tugged at his lips as he cheered your brother along. His hair looked neater than the wildly curly state you were used to. It was now perfectly gelled back. As well as that, his skin glowed; a healthy tan covering his face thanks to the rays of American sun which had surely kissed his skin. The flattering, denim button up shirt that hugged his biceps and the black pair of jeans he adorned allowed him to resemble some sort of Greek god.

Blinking rapidly, your eyes caught light of the blonde who clawed at Tom’s arm, attempting to bring attention to her barely there silver slip dress. It was her scratchy voice, audible from the opposite side of the room which dragged you back to reality.

“Sake,” you murmured in frustration, shaking your head.

“You’ve got no competition babes,” he assured quietly, as you made your way over to the group. Stopping within earshot of the large group, Sean most definitely made your presence known. “I mean fucking look at allllll of this!”

As if it was staged, all your friend’s eyes turned towards you. The unruly applauses and cheers were just louder than the music, causing warmth to rise to your cheeks. Taking all the attention in your stride, you curtsied for the second time that night.

Although you had resisted the urge to look towards Tom; he most certainly had not. Licking his soft lips, his brown eyes widened as he gazed over the silky dress which seemed as though it was made just for you. His imagination roamed wild as he looked up and down your body. You looked ethereal. Your hair was pulled back into a ponytail; loose strands falling from the front of your hairline, framing your face perfectly. Your eyes glimmered brightly, your face coming alight with a happiness Tom had never seen before. His heart leapt into his mouth as a sudden uneasiness fell down his spine. His hand rose nervously, combing through his hair; an anxious habit he had picked up from you.

“Who’s the next round of booze on?” Sean called loudly, encouraging the already rowdy group. You rolled your eyes, slapping him in the chest in as you looked towards the strangers, a sheepish smile on your face. “It’s (Y/N)’s first exhibition, c’moooon, don’t be cheap arses! Do we have any takers?”

“You guys don’t have to-“ you began. Waving your hands to excuse the strangers, giving Sean a stern glare.

“I got it,” Tom called quickly, cutting you off. Your eyes met his for the first time tonight; a familiar feeling tightening in the pit of your stomach as he looked you and down several times over. The group cheered louder in response to his inclination to order the group more drinks. He moved towards you, shaking his arm from the blonde’s seemingly deathly grip. Tom’s empty arms opened towards you. His strong arms skimmed around your figure; his large hands slid down, falling into place on your lower back.

“Congratulations,” he murmured sweetly into your ear, pressing a delicate kiss onto your cheek. “This is all so amazing, (Y/N), honestly. I’m so proud of you, darling.”

You squeezed him, holding him close before letting go, a shy smile on your face. “Thank you. I’m glad you’re enjoying it. It was really-”

“Where are the drinks, Holland? Huh?” your brother called obnoxiously, interrupting the sweet exchange. Sharing a chuckle, Tom hummed. “I’ll be right back.” With a wink and one more kiss to the cheek, he disappeared into the crowd.

Looking back towards your friends, you let out a sigh in relief. Slowly, you began making your way around the studio, chatting and explaining to your friends and strangers who had wandered into the exhibition the inspiration and meaning behind some of the art pieces. Your friends and family wore stupidly proud, drunken smiles on their faces as you spoke to them.

After around twenty minutes, you found yourself staring at one of the paintings you had become extremely fond of. An array of blossoming flowers were at the centre of the large canvas, more specifically, a variation of daffodils which stemmed from the overly dark and eerie scenery which surrounded them. An elderly woman stopped beside you, as if, just as mesmerised as you were.

“What do you think it’s about?” you questioned.

“It depends how you perceive it, dear,” she explained, not shifting her eyes from the dark image. “For me, I-I know that those flowers there, oh! What are they-“

“Daffodils,” you spoke, just above a whisper.

“Daffodils! That’s the one! Anyway, they normally represent new life, but, I think in this circumstance it might be an unrequited love.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, looking towards her in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

“Well don’t just look at the painting; analyse it, dear. Christ, you millennials,” she muttered, shaking her head. “The surroundings are dark, rough; but there’s a bunch of perfectly untouched, blossoming flowers. If you look closely at the ground, you’ll see other stems are trying to grow. Now, if I didn’t know any better I would say that the artist is facing a tricky relationship. Wouldn’t you?”

You remained still, your eyes fixated on the painting created by you. You hadn’t thought it through that much, but maybe she was right.

“I mean-“ you spoke, your finger raised as if ready to make a point. You turned towards her, but, she was gone. “Oh.”

Looking back towards the dreary painting, you huffed. As you were about to move along to the next art piece, a strong pair of arms slip around your waist, causing you to jump.

“Hey,” the rough voice rasped. Turning, you were met with a dazed, overconfident Tom. Alongside his messy, slightly dampened hair and unbuttoned, crinkled shirt, his appearance hadn’t changed at all. Your eyes flickered to the loud groan of the studio door. A twinge of jealousy struck through you as the blonde female, whose name had slipped from your memory, stumbled out of sight.

“Tom,” you spoke breathlessly, your eyes darting from Tom to the closed door. Immediately you put two and two together. Surely he didn’t just get with some other girl during one of the biggest nights of your life?

A sharp pain sparked through your chest once again. Tears stung your eyes, however, Tom remained seemingly unbothered as you desperately searched for any guilt within his lazy grin. You couldn’t believe that this was happening, tonight of all nights. Tom knew how much this exhibition meant to you. But maybe, you were wrong after all. “Were you just…? I-you, did you just…?“

Your mouth failed to form words. Yet, how could you expect anything else? You always knew you weren’t the only one, but when it came to Tom you were a fool and you knew it. He reached out, attempting to grab your arm but you took a step back. You couldn’t bear to have him near you right now. Once again, he reached his hand out towards your face but you flinched, looking the other way. Becoming conscious of your reluctance to his touch, Tom’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

“Wha-“ he slurred, his face falling. The desperate shaking of your head put a stop to his words. You couldn’t do this. Not here. Not tonight. A tear slipped from your eye as you walked away, not turning back as he continued to call your name. You felt dirty; betrayed that he would do such a thing.

“Tom, I really can’t deal with this right now,” you insisted, sniffling. Holding onto your forearm, he pulled you closer to him, looking you directly into your red, blurry eyes.

“Please; just, please. Let’s go outside and talk.”

Yanking his grip from your arm, you took long strides, your head down as you manoeuvred your way past the crowd and outside into the crisp London air. The sound of Tom’s boots shuffling against the gravel towards indicated he had followed suit. Letting a shaky breath of air escape your mouth, you attempted to calm yourself.

“What is going on, (Y/N)?” Tom groaned, exasperated, leaning against the railing.

“What do you mean what is going on, Tom?” you hissed. “Honestly, you must take me for a fucking fool to think I don’t know you fucked that girl and a lineup of other girls.”

“Been with other girls? What are we? Dating all of a sudden?” he squinted, becoming defensive. Your heart broke slightly as you heard the words out loud. “You know what? I might be throwing my weight around with a few girls here and there, but at least I’m not making up a fuckin’ fairy tale in my head.”

You froze, his words feeling like a slap to the face. You knew yourself and Tom didn’t talk 24/7, yet, you thought you were worth most than these putrid words he spat. Your lack of response only allowed him more time to spill venomous words back into your face.

“What do you want me to say, (Y/N), huh? Do you want me to lie and tell you how much I love you? How much I care for you? Is that really what you want?”

Enough was enough.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” you bit back. Hastily, you pushed the tears that fell down your face as you, annoyed that you were crying over him. Yet, you couldn’t help but laugh in a sinister way at Tom’s lack of response.

“Do you wanna know something, Holland? Maybe I did love you and yeah, maybe sometimes I would look at you and see my whole universe. But don’t you, for one second, dare lie to my face and tell me that you didn’t care.”

Tom rubbed his face in irritation and anger. Although his heart yearned for him to yell, scream at the top of his lungs over and over again; I was lying, I care for you, I love you. Something; anything. His mind refused it; disabling his mouth from opening. It remained staying shut tight. His head bowed, blinking away tears which filled his eyes.

“Get out,” you whispered into the wind, your voice cracking. Tom looked up, his eyes attempting to catch yours. His mouth opened, ready to form some type of apology, but he didn’t. You were met with silence again. “Leave. I don’t want to see you here, Tom. Never again.”

Nothing Tom was experiencing would ever compare to the way your heart felt in that moment. It was as if your delicate heart had been ripped from your chest then smashed and battered into a million pieces before your very eyes. You were vulnerable; unable to look at him. His presence alone made you want to throw up. Your gaze was fixed out towards the flickering street light.

“I gave you everything,” you confessed, trembling in defeat. “I guess everything was never enough for you.”

With one last inhalation, you pushed the balcony door open, indicating for Tom to leave. Quietly, he passed you, not uttering a word. For you, that wasn’t even the worst part. You couldn’t fathom that not once did he turn to look back or even bother to say goodbye. 

masterlist here | request here

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

Long Odds (OmarUlmerxFem!Reader)

Requested by @mylovelyreblogs​

@owba-chan​ @war-obsessed​ @inglourious-imagines​ @tealaquinn​ @struggling-bee​ @frozenhuntress67​

Let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist! :)

Donny set his beer down on the pub counter, and smirked, "Five hundred francs." Hirschberg rolled his eyes, "What is that? Like ten bucks?" "Yeah, but we're in France...so five hundred francs. Take it or leave it." Hirschberg snickered, "Aint'cha got somethin'...luckier than that?" Donny sneered as he muttered under his breath, "Fucken lucky, I'll show you lucky." He set his lucky baseball card on the counter. Rare, 1939 Teddy Williams baseball card. Autographed. Omar raised his eyebrow, and grinned, "Goin' all in, huh?" Donny smirked, "Might as well. I'm the one that needs the least luck here." They all grumbled as the betting went on. They were betting on something...well...odd, to say the least. You were a basterd, and a friendly one, too. Friendly with all of them.  As a matter of fact, you'd gotten a laugh or two out of Hugo, which wasn't an easy thing to do. As much as they hated to admit, each of the boys had a thing for you at some point or other.

They looked back to the other side of the pub, where you were dancing with anyone and everyone that so much as looked  in your direction.... Boy was it a sight that would never fade away from anyone's memory. You were one of a kind basterd...but a basterd no less. Still, you were more than anyone of them could have ever bargained for. Especially Omar. To him, you were more than he could ever say. You were what they'd all dreamed of having by their side once they got home... But goddamn was it a perk having you there by their side in the war, where it mattered most. Where it was rough having friends, but...none of them would have it any other way. Now...they were all betting who you'd be "friendliest" with in the end... And looked down the counter, "Aldo?" He rolled his eyes, set his whiskey down with a clunk, and crossed his arms, and muttered, "I'm gettin' too old for this shit..." He cleared his throat, "And I respect Y/n too much to just bet on th-" Donny smirked, "You're scared, huh?" Smitty snickered,  "You scared you'll lose, lieutenant?" Aldo narrowed his eyes as he looked at his men, "Lose?"

Hirschberg nodded, "You don't got it, old man." "Old man?! Old man?! Wicki's the oldest." Smitty nodded in agreement, "Oh yeah...Wicki's older." "Shaddap Uti." Donny raised an eyebrow....If he was in danger of losing his Teddy fucking Williams baseball card, he wasn't letting anyone get away with less than that. All or nothing. "Neat stash of tobaacco there, sir... Y/n's always sayin' that stuff aint no good for you. 'Specially if you're gettin' up there in your years-" Aldo rolled his eyes, "Alright, alright. I'm in." He slammed his tin of snuff on the table, next to the card, the francs, and the mementos everyone was willing to bet.

"Omar." The last one to enter the bet. And frankly, not the one most of the boys were worried about. With him, it was a long shot. ...Even if they wouldn't advise him (or Smitty, or even Wicki) to join in on the bet, he had something they all wanted. One impressive hoarde of chocolate. He knew that was what they wanted from him. And he was confident... He wasn't very good at holding  a poker face, but frankly most of the boys were pretty dense as to why he was smirking, "Alright. Hersheys. I'm in." 

"Everyone quiet!" Hirschberg spotted you coming toward them, and they all scrambled to hide their wagers. "Hey, why's everyone so quiet?" You stood at the end of the counter, after dancing for what seemed like an eternity, but not quite done for the night. The tavern’s band was taking a short break. And you just needed to cool off a little. Aldo knew that, and held up a glass of whiskey on the rocks. The most refreshing thing he could think of. "Y/n?" You smiled a little as you caught your breath, "Ya know that brunette back there keeps eyeing you, sir?" "What?" You smiled, and gestured back to the dancing youth, "There." "O...oh..well..." You smiled, "Maybe save that drink, huh?" "I-" A little way down the counter, Omar lifted a different glass. Cognac. Which is all you liked to drink. Which he knew. Hugo, thinking you had to be at least a  little tired out, and noting the band had been playing some slower songs earlier, he figured, he might as well give it a shot. "Y/n...." You looked to him, with a naive, sincere smile, "Yeah?" All he had to say was "Dance?" And you nodded, "You got it!" You smiled at him, and turned to get to Omar. So...the basterds watched as you passed Aldo by, and somehow Omar and Hugo seemed to gain favor... Minutes later, after finishing that cognac from Omar, you were back on the dance floor...and Aldo withdrew from the bet, seeing that the brunette on the dance floor had a thing for the Tennessee man. He swung by the bar with her, and passed by the basterds. She was clinging to him, and looking up at him dreamily, passing a lit cigar to him. He held it up, eyed his tin of snuff, and sighed. "Men." They all stood waiting, as if he'd give an order. He smirked a little, knowing he'd get snuff some way or another, "I fold." And he was off, with his new acquaintance. With one less basterd in the race, the stakes were raised higher. "Five hundred and fifty francs!" Donny held his poker face...he had to. Frankly, that was all the francs he had to offer. Smitty looked on as you danced the night away, "Y/n likes music, right?" Omar chuckled, "Oh she does, Einstein?" "Look." Smitty narrowed his eyes, and Omar rolled his, and smiled "Y/n don't care what music plays, Smitty. She'll dance to anything." Donny laughed as he crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. It made him happy to see you happy. Frankly, he didn't really care who won the bet, as long as you were happy. He only bet to begin with because...well he's Donny Donowitz. He's just competitive. And impulsive...and regretted betting his lucky card. Still, he smiled with a sigh, "Ain't that the truth." He took a drink and looked back at the counter. His competitive instinct kicked in. He grinned, as he nudged Hugo, and looked on to the dance floor, "Y'know what Y/n really likes dancin' to, Hugo?" Hugo raised his eyebrow as the band came back. Hearing the blaring, wild trumpet beginning to play, as you looked back at them from the edge of the dancing crowd, waiting for your dance partner, His eyes widened as you gestured to him... Hirschberg taunted him too, leaning over the bar, and snickering "That's right. Ragin' wild swing." He looked back at Wicki, as if asking for help for the first time in his life. Wicki shrugged as he sipped some bourbon. "You aready asked her to dance. Might not be the best time to disappoint her, kumpel." Utivich laughed, "Her? Don't dissapoint us!" He pushed Hugo off his stool, and toward the dance floor. He grimaced, and looked as if he was about ready to snarl at them like a rabid animal... 

Just then, you walked out from the dancefloor, and took his hands, and pulled him toward the crowd, your laugh like a beacon in a stormy night, pulling a smile from him.

"Damn can she do the goddamn charleston!" Donny chuckled, looking on. Omar narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out where Hugo had gone.  "L-Is that Hugo?!" "Y-Yeah...." "Damn look at him go!"

The basterds laughed and started cheering for him, until he stumbled a little, and fell. "Look at him go!" Wicki smiled, as you came back to them, your laugh was like a song to him. Laugh! That was it! He tried to capture that light in your gleaming eyes in the milisecond before your laugh rang like a mermaid's song. A joke or two would do it... Except he stumbled on the punchline. There was a lot on the line, after all. And the boys laughed at him and his mistakes. Omar chuckled, "Careful boys, you'll break an old man's heart." Wicki rolled his eyes, and the jeering went on, Hirschberg smirked, "Might be having a stroke." You rolled your eyes, though you could hardly contain your guity smile as you punched Hirschberg’s shoulder, "Oh, you're so mean!" He looked up at you, and caught sight of that hidden grin, and felt at ease with himself for a moment. He'd made you smile...that was a start. But it wasn't much. Omar knew that, as he smirked and took a sip of his beer. 

You could read a room. Better yet, you knew each of the basterds inside out, and knew something was up. You weren't blind either, so you had a pretty good idea at what was happening. You were killer at war, but a heartbreaker at nature. All it took to throw Hirschberg off his game, and blow everyone else's egos to bits was to wink at him. One little wink.| Omar hid his smirk again as he raised his beer to his lips, and raised his head back, dousing his retained laugh with the rich, bitter, cool beer as he shot you a knowing, loving glance.

************ "Y'know...I think...I thinkn y/n's on to us..." Hirschberg sighed as  he loked down at the crumpled, orange and red leaves as he marched with Donny, Omar, and Smitty to a rendezvous point. You had gone with the rest of the basterds to a somewhat distant town for supplies, and they were meeting you at  a hideout that was roughly the halfway point. The rest of the boys were discussing their progress in the wager, and Hirschberg was a little unsettled. Donny sighed as he stretched out his arms, "Oh yeah? What makes ya say that?" Hirschberg grumbled a little then admitted, "Made my move...and she wasn't havin' none of it. Got far enough to try and sneak in a little kiss." Omar, who had been splashing some water from a creek onto his face, stopped. He looked up, still facing away from them to hide his cheeky grin, "Yeah? How'd that go?" He knew you. He knew you'd always be true. You'd told him so, once, long ago. And he believed you. Still, he couldn't help but sigh a little, remembering the soft, secret touch of your lips. Sure enough, your lips were often cracked by the carelessness of war and winter, but still the best kiss a soldier like him could ever ask for.

Hirschberg wouldn't know. And that's what made Omar smirk. "She slap you?" Smitty couldn't help but laugh a little, and Donny suggested, "Punch ya?...Can't blame her. Wouldn't want a face like yours near me either." Hirschberg rolled his eyes, "No! She....she put her fingers...on my lips, goddamn it!" Omar smirked as he walked by him, patting him on the back, "Well, looks like you're losin' you're luger." "Yeah, yeah..." He sighed, wondering in defeat if he'd really lose his luger, "Then she said. She looks at me with those eyes, y'know...those fucken eyes..." Omar nodded with a sigh, looking up at the sky, as if he could see them, "Yeah...I know those eyes..." The boys didn't quite catch that air of sincerity in his voice. That trace of love, that hint of reminiscence Omar's dreamy daze was interrupted by Hirschberg's brash voice, "And ya know what she says? She pushed me back, see. And she says to me, 'Hirsch, you gon' tell me what this is all about or not?' "

Donny gasped, almost in disbeleif, like he was hearing gossip in a salon, "No!"

Hirschberg replied in the near same tone, "Yes!" Smitty shook his head, "Well what'd you say?!" "I said no, that's what I fucken said!" Smitty rolled his eyes in exasperation, "So you admitted there was something going on!?" "No, didn't you hear, I said no?!" Smitty sighed, "No. You said no, you wouldn't tell her what was happening, not no there was nothing happening." Hirschberg frowned, and opened his mouth to respond... Then quickly realized Smitty's point, shrugged, took a puff from his cigarette, and sighed, "Guess I did..." As the boys marched on, Donny spotted something poking through Smitty's jacket. "Whatcha got there, kid?" "A book." "Aw, yeah? What kinda book?" Donny smirked at Omar and Hirschberg, and nudged Smitty. Smitty pulled it out of his jacket. The cover read "Le Petit Prince." A story born and banned in France. Nevertheless, there it was, in his hands, wishing to find yours. "Ya know Y/n can't read French, right?" And in that moment, his heart broke into a million pieces. He wasn't in it for the wager, or even to win your heart. To him, you'd always be like a shining star, across the universe. He'd always hope to see you, but he'd never be close enough. He loved you like a friend could, from the moment he figured that out. He knew love was much like war, not something to be toyed with or bet on. It was far beyond his hands. He loved you, but not in the way you deserved, so he stepped down... He'd confided that to Omar, still not knowing the truth. And Omar had listened with a sigh, knowing you loved Smitty, like you loved all the other basterds. As brothers. But Smitty was, well, the youngest, and so you thought of him as a sort of baby brother. So Omar helped Smitty find that book. Did it nearly cost them an arm and a leg (literally)? Yes. Would either of them ever tell you? No. So Omar's heart sank when he caught that defeated look in Smitty's eyes, and stepped up. "She's got a French dictionairy, y'know she's learnin'. And...it's the thought that counts, kid. Chin up." Smitty smiled a little, and stopped for a moment, as Omar turned back around and kept marching with the others.  Smitty looked up ahead, knowing you were somewhere out there, and he was more excited than evere to give you that book. After a few moments of silence, something started picking at Donny. "Omar." "Yeah, sarge?" "How the hell are you still so confident about this?" Hirschberg, Smitty, and Donny then stopped in ther tracks to look at Omar, and wait for an answer. Omar was the only basterd that had never had a steady relationship before. Hell, Smitty might've been the youngest, but even he had a high school sweetheart at some point. Hirschberg nodded, "Yeah you ain't even made your first move yet!" Donny sighed, having made more moves than he'd ever had to before, "Yeah you should do sometin' quick, Ulmer. You ain't got any idea what you're getting yourself into with that girl. It's fucking impossible." Omar shrugged, "Well...we did go through boot camp together." As a matter of fact, that was where it all started. Sneaking out of your bunks in the middle of the night, and roaming around under the stars, jsut talking. "And we spent our fair share of time together." This was the first time you'd been split up... And he failed to define 'together'. He shrugged, "I know a little more about her than you think."

Hirschberg crossed his arms and remarked, "That right?" "Yeah... She likes a good show. Action pictures, that sort of thing." Donny raised his eyebrow with a grin,"Action pictures, huh?" A few hours later, after ambushing a nazi outfit nearby, Donny was swinging with his bat, "Y/n likes action movies, right?" Omar smirked a little, "Give her a real show, Donny. Knock 'em dead." Donny smirked a little, and walked into the tunnel, already riled up.

And, after some intimidation and interrogation, Aldo called Donny out. And Donny did put his all into it... He really was the closest thing the basterds had to seeing a movie. 

And at the end of it, as Werner lay dead, and his private gave Aldo all the information he needed, Donny looked across the fort to you, with smouldering, smirking eyes, and a sly grin. His eyes fell on you, your basterd grin, and laughing eyes, and moved down, and saw your hand. Your hand, resting on a stone. With Omar's hand resting on yours. "No..." His eyes grew wide. His mouth dropped open. The other basterds' eyes followed his, because if something left the Bear Jew speechless, it was something worth looking at. And indeed, it was. Because they all saw what he did. Omar smirking, his raised eyebrow, pulling his arm around your shoulders, and kissing you. What's more...they'd all just lost a bet. In fact, they'd lost the moment they even put their wagers on the table. Then, a million questions went back and forth. "WHAT?!" being the most common. Followed by "WHEN?!?!?!" and, of course, "HOW!?!?!?!" To which Omar responded, "Learned a lot more than you think in basic training. Y/n's been by my side since then. Made it official just before we left England." You laughed a little, "We didn't know we'd be leaving together." You didn’t know you were both being sent to the basterds. Hirschberg smirked. "So ya can do somethin' right, huh Omar" Aldo chuckled a little,  "Say, y/n that how  ya get him to shut his mouth every once in a while? Ya learn that trick in basic training too?" You blushed a little, "More or less, Aldo." Omar smiled as he looked at you, the basterds saving their grumbling about their gambling for later, for your sake. Still...Hirschberg slipped up and said "Some fucken bet..." Then, it all made sense to you. A bet.... The other basterds never had a chance to start with. They were betting blind. Omar though, he took a gamble of long odds when he met you. He bet it all on you again that night in the pub. It wasn't just his chocolate stash, it was his love, his pride, his heart. That was clear to everyone from that moment. But you didn't understand why. You spoke softly, a way only Omar ever heard you speak before, and you asked him, "Why?" He smiled. "Because I trusted you. I knew my odds, they were always on my side. Like you." You shut your eyes, feeling like a fool, and giving a small, amused smile. Loving someone during war was always a wager with death, with odds that weren't in your favor. But loving a basterd... Loving Omar Ulmer... Now that was a chance you were willing to take, from the moment you first laid eyes on him. He didn't know that. He'd played a game of fortune and heartbreak, once, and won. And he'd be willing to bet it all again, for you, and only you.