#because you use electricity from them to run the office

[wheel-of-fandoms]

Oh man, probably looked better before Unity shat themselves

♬ Just announced: Tue Oct 10, 5:30pm: SF GAME DEVELOPMENT MEETUP https://www.dnalounge.com/calendar/2023/10-10a.html #dnalounge #sfgamedevelopmentmeetup #sanfrancisco

SF Game Development Meetup: SF Game Development is excited to partner with HashiCorp and Unity. HashiConf is happening this week, and this is one of the exclusive after hours events that you’ll get to attend for FREE. Food is sponsored by HashiCorp and drinks are available for purchase at the DNA Lounge bar. Speakers will go on stage at 7:00pm. This event is open to the public and is a professional networking event for game developers, artists, students, indies, or really anyone interested in game development.

[ningvory]

♡ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ME & YOU ┊ kim minjeong

parings: cop!gp!minjeong x criminal!f!reader

synopsis: after the gang you were affiliated with was found, cops came and and killed almost everyone. you were left with having to take them down yourself, just when you thought you thought you got them all, a young woman caught you. that woman being kim minjeong.

warnings: omg!? 1k followers already!? tysm you guys!! it’s only been a month and a few weeks since i started this blog and i had NO experience with writing, means a lot to me so i hope you enjoy this fic!! reader is lowkey a bitch, minjeong is cocky, violent, lotss of profanity, angry sex, minjeong fucks you in her office, oral (minjeong receiving), choking, cum swallowing, minjeong rubs your clit, overstimulation kinda, reader just needed a good fuck fr, unprotected sex (big no no guys!), cockwarming, minjeong’s office is soundproof, reader gets manhandled, they kiss like once, lmk if i missed anything!!

breaking the rules was second nature. you were involved in a gang which could've been the best or the worst choice of your life. you were mainly known for stealing because of how quiet you are. they start to think you're a trained assassin. you never used violence unless it was absolutely necessary, you preferred to keep your hands clean from some randoms blood when doing your job. you always went for luxury items, you're a expensive girl, anything that caught your eye you got it.

the gang you're affiliated had been on the most wanted list for some time. most wanted criminals on the loose ever since some jackass decided to shoot a guy at the club for finding and swallowing the illegal drugs, which the police found after some time of fully inspecting it. when you were notified you wanted to kill the guy off yourself, you weren't into taking drugs so you questioned how hard is it to keep them unnoticed.

no one seem to be aware of the police finding the base so when you heard the sound of a door getting kicked down and gun shots being fired, you jumped. you were half asleep due to it being close to 3 in the morning, they must've picked a late time thinking that you all were asleep so you wouldn't put up much of a fight.

you quickly jumped out of your bed, adrenaline running in your veins as you found a knife and a gun. you wanted to accept your fate but your pride was ahead of you, you aren't going down without a bit of a fight. they would have to take you dead or unconscious.

you ran out your room and was met with chaos. what was known as your home has now became a battlefield, your friends and coworkers were dead on the floor, their blood surrounding them. this just fueled the flame but you knew to keep your composure.

you quietly went downstairs, not making a sound and began shooting at every cop you see. dodging their bullets and using their dead comrades as a shield as you ran toward them, getting close enough so you can stab them.

it was a one woman army, shooting them all until it was only you left standing, white dress gown drenched with their blood as well as the rest of your body. the smell of blood makes you sick to your stomach every time. just when you thought you killed them all, someone attempted to shoot you. making you drop your knife from the shock. the perpetrator took the opportunity to try and pin you down but you were quicker, you kick their side and pulled their hair, bringing their face close to yours.

you inspected the perpetrator, it was a woman who you gotta admit, is stunning with short dark orange hair that was faded to black who stared back at you. you were about to land a punch her way but was met with the feeling us electricity being zapped through you which made you let out a scream.

"bitch! get off of me!" you screamed at the woman you was sitting on your tummy.

your words seemed to phase her because she landed a forceful slap to the side of your face which made you yelp and attempt to hit her back. she was obviously more stronger than your current state because she almost effortlessly pinned your hand above you and used her other hand to choke you.

you were gasping and twisting your body around in a attempt to get her off of you. strangled moans and whines spilling from your mouth and tears filling your waterline, threatening to fall at any given moment. just when you felt you were completely out of air, she let go and placed a cloth over you lips and nose, forcing you to breathe in the substance on the cloth. your struggle evidently grew slower and less frantic and your eyes were half lidded, threatening to close as your vision began to blur until you were met with a void of darkness.

-

you jumped up from your sleep, breathing staggered and panic filled your eyes as you struggle to manage what all took place. your memories came back to you as you calmed your breathing, you've been caught, you're not even aware if anyone else made it out alive or if they were all killed. you took a look around the unfamiliar room and looked down at your body, you're now wearing an orange prison suit, with what appears to be black sneakers.

"you awake now sleepy beauty?" a husky voice spoke which made you turn your head to the direction of where you heard the voice.

it was the same woman from yesterday, manspreading in a chair in your room.

"were you watching me sleep? ever heard of privacy?" you questioned, attitude laced in your voice.

"say bye to privacy, you get none of that here. wake up 'cause this is your new life." she smirked looking dead in your eyes, fixing her posture in the chair.

"you've slept long, its already lunch time." she spoke again, standing up and walking to the door, which made you stand up when she put her fingers in a "come here" motion.

the woman, which now you know as, minjeong by her coworkers but winter to the prisoners gave you a tour around the prison. showing where everything is, you don't understand why she's doing this. all the prison movies you've seen never shown a cop giving fresh meat a tour.

you don't even know how long your sentence is but you surely hated this lifestyle, the food was so shitty you spit it back out.

"who the fuck is cooking back there because they personally need to get their ass beat for cooking this shit. i'd rather starve." you muttered.

"they'll force you to eat if you don't yourself. they go as far as to stick a tube in your tummy and feed you like that." an inmate told you.

you began chatting with the inmate that you found out was karina, she was totally gonna be your best friend in this hell hole.

the first few days have been okay, you always had an uncomfortable sleep because you were sleeping on literal metal. the other inmates would always look at you creepily which freaked you out a bit, especially in the shower room. but luckily karina came in there with you. with minjeong, you hated her. from her cock ass attitude to the way she would just look so fine. it just pissed you off all together and you made her aware of that. throwing mean words at her anytime you get such as, "bitch, don't touch me." "leave me the fuck alone, bitch." she let it slide but today it seemed she was in a bad mood and she wasn't having none of it.

you woke up and she was in your room, like always. you always poke your fun at her, wanting to hit a nerve so bad so you can laugh in her face.

"you're such a fuckin' creep. don't you have something better to do than be in my room everyday even when i'm sleep?" you questioned, trying to sound annoyed but you do in fact don't mind her in here.

she said nothing but stood up and walked over to you, hooded eyes staring back into your eyes. it startled you, taking a gulp as she walked over to you before grabbing your arm and yanking and you up. dragging you to an unknown place.

"yah! what the fuck — where are we going!?" you whispered not wanting to drag attention to yourself.

she remained quiet, but you felt her hand squeeze your arm, telling you to shut up. so you did, listening to her for the first time letting her drag you to wherever it was that she was taking you to.

you were dragged into what looked like an office, her office. you inspected the area wondering why she brought you here.

"the fuck are we in here for— ah! what the hell?!" you were cut off when you were pushed down to the ground right in front of her black couch.

minjeong stood right in front of you and that’s when you finally saw it, her hard boner pressing against her cop uniform. just the position of you guys had made it visible what she was gonna make you do making you gulp.

minjeong, after making sure you see her problem, started undressing her bottom half. once she took off her boxers her cock rested flat against her tummy, angry red cock leaking precum already.

“go on” she muttered out, patience running thin.

“hah! make me— mph!” the words died down in your throat because she sure as hell did force you.

her hands gripped your head, keeping your head in place while her hips were thrusting wildly into your warm mouth. tears were running down your face while you were gagging on her thick cock, hands on her thighs trying to push you outta her mouth but she was far more stronger than you.

“fuckk! you’re so pretty like th-this, not being a mean bitch. ngh! yea — just keep your pretty eyes on me.” minjeong groaned, forcing you to keep eye contact while she used you as a flesh light.

“fuck! g’na cum! and you’re gonna swallow it all.” she groaned.

her hips began to stutter as she picked up the pace, thrusting wildly into your mouth making you gag until she stopped. your nose was on her pelvis, throat burning while you’re trying to breathe through your nose. she finally came, seed shooting down your throat, more tears prickling your eyes as you swallowed up all of her seed.

she finally pulled out, strings of your spit connected to her cock until the string broke. you were gasping, trying to inhale as much air as you can. she barely gave you a break because she manhandled you on the couch and pushed into you, making you scream she was fucking into you with no prep, you never had something so big in you!

you were screaming trying to run away from her until she pined you to the couch. thrusts were fast and hard making your body push up with every thrust.

“nghh- ah! wait — slow down!!” you cried, eyes shut and back arching with your hands frantically looking for something to grip on.

it was like she didn’t even hear you, her hips had a mind of its own. she growled seeing her bulging your tummy, removing her hand to toy with your clit and the other to press down on your tummy bulge. making you let out pornographic moans which are basically screams until she shut you up with a kiss, all your moans were muffled by minjeong until you came all over her and her couch!

she let you ride out your high, pumping into you until she’s cumming into you, painting your tight walls white.

-

“you just needed a good fuck, huh?” minjeong said, your attitude was the complete opposite from your regular one with her. you were on her lap, head resting on her shoulder while cockwarming her.

“oh shut up!” you groaned, lightly hitting her making her chuckle.

let’s just say, this affair was between you and her and you both were fucked if anyone ever found out! <33

[whoiseduardito]

Heeey so I've come to the sad realization that marvel has yet again made me simp over a character that is NEVER written for so, I was wondering if you would be willing to do a fluffy magneto fic.

Maybe where you are a new teacher a the school and had never me Erik and end up with a crush and he ends up finding out somehow. Idk sorry ik that was a long one.

I need something fluffy after these past episodes and Smut is fine with me but I'm not sure if your comfortable writing smut if not no big.

HEY! GET OUT OF MY WAY!

pairing: erik lehnsherrr (magneto) x reader warn: i love this type of fluff!!!!!!! a/n: my first req!! not proof read!!! horrible writing, rushed, you can tell i loved the sound of music trope.

so maybe you have a type.

older guys who have the humor of a rock.

...maybe just the older xenotype- but that's not important, totally not. the issue is that, you're crushin'. you're crushin' hard.

maybe it is the face, maybe it is the hair, but something about erik lehnsherr pulls you in, like a magnet, ironically.

you were the new teacher at the 'xavier's school for gifted youngsters, it was a pleasant experience, the students were nice (until their mutations were triggered, but that's not their fault), the ambient was too, and the pay? you could pay your rent, and more!

for you, the 'no crushing on coworkers' was bullshit, a harmless crush can't do that bad, as long as it's harmless.

so you continued with your lecture, 'history of mutation', very cool, you had even made a presentation, and then a kahoot, pretty cool right?

"so, the history of mutations can date back to many years, such as the sixth century-"

the door opened, all of the heads turned, and the person stepped in, you turned away from the board you were writing, your eyes searching for the person.

it was your fucking crush, it was fucking magneto.

your face drained of all color, and his electric freezing blue eyes stared back.

"uhh-"

"-..this is a senior class, correct?" he walked around the class, his eyes cutting contact from your's

"...y-yeah totally" he stopped near a decoration with 'mini prom!" painted on it with photos of the students as younger kids.

"then why are decorations everywhere?" he stared at it "this is not kindergarden."

damn. "well?"

"i-i thought it would be good to make this a nice atmosphere for the students."

"the world is not an nice atmosphere for mutants, is it?"

the class was dead silent, no one dared to breathe, even lightly.

"i want this off the wall before the end of the day." he made his way out.

"why?" you whispered

he stopped "because i said so, miss l/n. now rip it off"

oh, your mood had soured

"i'm sorry magneto, sir, but the decorations stay." you said those words with all of the backbone you have

"i'm the headmaster. it goes off."

"i'm the homeroom teacher, it stays."

you were a teeny tiny scared but for your students you'd fight him without your mutation. he glared, his piercing glare stayed on you

"i'm sorry mister magneto but in here, i give the best ambient for my students."

his stare became harder, and then he blinked, sighing and walking away "...i'd like to see you in my office, right now."

you gulped loudly, you're pretty sure he heard.

he began walking away, a beat passed until you realised he wanted you to follow him, you began walking alongside him.

the way there was silent, but your head was running, this is it, this is what you get for standing up for your students, shit.

he opened the door, and let you in, murmured a 'take a seat'

"...i am not fond of people disobeying my commands."

"i am aware, mister magneto."

"just call me sir, mister magneto is ticking me off"

"sorry, sir" you quickly said, most of the backbone you had you used it on standing up to him, and now you were getting fired.

"just answer me this." you nodded, you complied "you are aware that in this school you're just needed to teach them, and just make sure they understand how the world works, not pamper them, not make them decorations."

"but-"

"are you aware?"

"yes, but-"

"then why are you pampering them?"

ouch

"i'm going to move you, transfer you if you will"

"what?"

"roulette, the mutation to be able to randomize whatever power you have seen either physically or by any media."

you're screwed

"your mutation, am i right?"

"sir-"

"you're going to work with me to make them control their mutation."

"...what?"

"you and me, are going to train them."

"uhm.... who?"

he sighed loudly, he surely had a small fuse "your students."

great! teaching with magneto.

"...you sure sir?"

"i am sure."

breaking the news to your students was easy, making them behave so you don't look like a doof, was hard.

many classes had passed with mag- mister lehnsherr (he had told you to stop calling him 'magneto'), each day was hard but sometimes you picked at his stony personality, hoping that he would notice, sometimes you swear you saw him crack a small grin when you made a joke or had integration activities for your class, and your tiny crush had maybe turned into a bigger crush.

"teach'?"

"hm?" the voice of one of your students pulled you out of your meditation spot "what is it?"

"are you okay? you've been in this spot for the whole break."

"oh here? this is a great spot to think." it was a tree behind the mansion, in a secluded corner.

"mister magento is looking for you." they sat next to you beneath the tree

"why?" they shrugged

"maybe's cause he likes you" your head snapped to their direction

"...don't be silly" you tried to look away "he doesn't"

"really? 'cause i always hear his heart beating faster, when you do something or appear." their mutation was enhanced hearing, you blushed

"oh, stop lying." you snorted

"he does!" they jabbed you with their fingers to tease you "and you like him back!"

"shut up!" you laughed

"you do! you do!" they chuckled, suddenly they remained quiet and a smirk slowly was painted in their face "i'll leave you both alone" they walked away

"wha?-"

"miss l/n?"

oh shit.

"do you like me?" you turned your head slowly to face him.

"mister lehnsherr!-"

"please, call me erik." he chuckled, maybe the first time you saw his face in a smirk that isn't evil. "and how about a coffee to discuss about your teaching methods?"

[mandy-asimp]

Late night dancing

Agatha Harkness x fem! Reader (she/her)

Warnings: swearing, touchiness, kissing, the media being shit, reassurance, fluff, angst, it's a happy ending

Summary: reader is a gamer and plays among us because that's what I was feeling and is dating Agatha who is a big CEO but their relationship is exposed one night.

"Ok an Y/n? What did you see?" Rea's voice chimed over everyone.

It was a classic Friday night stream. A group of friends playing round after round of games while drinking. Something Y/n had found herself doing a lot more ever since her streaming account picked up.

She sat up in her chair, "ok I was in electrical doing wires, and I left Jack in there. I run out and run past Leslie as she goes into electrical. I was like 'maybe she'll kill' so I waited for a few seconds before running back up. And not only did the vent close, Jack's body was right there!" She explained what happened in the few minutes. "Now, I'm not saying I saw her...but it's very obvious."

The group lightly laughed, "so Leslie? If not we come back for Y/n?" Felix had a smile in his words.

"Uh, it is not me. So you don't have to come back for me, thank you very much!" She put in her vote happily.

The night continued on and it was full of laughter. With headphones on she didn't hear the door open. "No! No! I don't wanna die!" She shouted while running to the button, Toast on her tail. She clicked the button before he could catch her. "It's Toast! He's been chasing me after double backing!" She cried out. Screaming when a hand placed on her shoulder.

The group laughed and tried to talk to her but her mic seemed to have been muted. All her stream saw was the body of someone and her talking to them. She smiled warmly before agreeing to something and unmuting.

"Sorry! But yeah it's totally Toast. If not you can come back for me." She locked in her vote once again.

"Are you ok over there?" Lily laughed, referring to the ear piercing scream.

She let out her own chuckle, " yeah just got scared was all. Also this is my last round. So trust me cause I'm right and it would be a good way to end my stream."

Everyone agreed it was valid and voted him off. Winning the game once more before she signed off. There was some protest, even with her live chat, but she did have to go. A wide smile on her face as she ran into the living room. Hoping the couch and right into her girlfriend's lap.

"Hello honey!" She beamed from ear to ear. "How was your day today?" She was quick to grow eager to hear all about what the other was up to.

Agatha groaned, "people are so dumb sometimes. Honestly, all they're doing is sorting files and working in an office. It's not that hard." She rubbed her temples.

Agatha was the CEO of some big tech company. She always had to deal with the other men in the industry who didn't take her serious. Yet, her company was the leading one and thriving.

"It's actually just infuriating to think, that just because I have a pair of boobs and a vagina, they don't take me half as serious. I'm mean, I figured we'd be past all this by now." She complained, each word making her headache even more heavy.

Y/n hummed in thought, "what if I taught you a game? One where your amazing boobs and vagina have nothing to do with it?" She offered, getting a look of confusion in return. "Come, we game!"

That night, Agatha was taught how to play among us and was surprisingly good at it. Her lying skills being a bit concerning to the younger but she knew it was all fun in games. Literally. Along with, Agatha struggled to lie to her, the ravenette didn't know why but one look and she was spilling the truth.

A few months had passed and it was a Christmas special. Everyone was on and ready to play. "Welcome stream! Welcome everybody! Happy holidays to those who celebrate, happy Friday to those who don't. Today we're back with another among us!" She greeted. Taking a few minutes to greet everyone and talk a little bit. Smiling at the questions about the mystery person.

She joined the group of other players and the conversations just flowed.

"So before we start, Y/n?" Leslie pulled the attention to the friend. A hum being her acknowledgment. "Got a secret lover you're hiding?"

The blush the chat pointed out was undeniable. She leaned closer to her mic with a wide smile, "maybe." Was all she said before the round started.

While she was running around talking to herself, the door opened once again. Her head snapped back and she grew excited at the sight of her girlfriend. Quickly, she placed her character by the emergency button and jumped from her seat. Going as far as turning off her camera to smother Agatha with kisses.

"Well someone missed me?" She teased, hands holding her waist as she enjoyed the feeling of love. "I was only gone for a few weeks?"

"Oh a few weeks too long!" She spoke through kisses. Not aware her mic was still on. "How was your trip, babes?"

Agatha grimaced at the nickname, "you know I hate when you use babes. You use that term so freely with friends. But it was good I guess. The hotel room was lavish. Work is boring to talk about? What about you?"

"Y/n!" Leslie's voice was heard through the headphones. "Is that your maybe?!"

Her eyes grew big as she slowly touched the mic. "Ummm....maybe." She spun from the hold and ran back towards the gaming display.

Agatha noted how it was purple all the time. She knew it wasn't the girls favorite color, but hers instead. She always wanted to ask about it but chose not to. Instead she followed over and stood behind the chair.

Y/n turned the camera back on and the chat went wild at the body in the background. Begging for a face reveal. "I missed the conversation, so I'm going to skip this round." And the votes skipped and the game went on.

"Y/n! What's her name? We all heard her." Leslie followed her around, the proximity chat giving them the chance to still talk. "I'm also going to be honest, my chat is saying she's in the room with you! And they saw her standing behind you?"

She laughed at the absurdity. "Yes she's behind me. I'm training her to play games so she can play with me. Especially since I got her to take a week break for the holidays. Busy woman."

Leslie squealed with excitement, "you should let her finish this round with us and you do all the voicing." She proposed knowing the others would notice the sudden behavior change.

Y/n turned to look at Agatha, an innocent smile spread from ear to ear. "I'll turn off the camera and you'll play?" Was all she had to say before Agatha was situating in the chair.

That's when she realized how comfortable it really was. What she didn't expect was her girlfriend to get handsy while she played. The way she kept talking as if she was the one playing.

She had gone a little quiet as her lips slowly moved against the skin of her neck. The emergency meeting interrupting them. A body had been found.

"So I found this body in electrical, and the lights were out but I can for sure clear Jack and Abe," Rea had began the discussion. "We were all moving as one so it was very unlikely they did it."

There was a silence before Toast spoke up. "Y/n where are you?" He began his interrogation.

"I was on the right side near shields. I had come down from Nav." The lie flowed easily as her hands kept roaming over Agatha's collarbones. Her nail scratching just lightly. "The last person I had seen was Leslie near the trash."

"That was a while ago though like the start of the round. I say we just skip this one we still have enough people." She had concluded. The group agreeing with her.

And as more rounds went on, Y/n got more lost in touching Agatha. Leaving hickies on her neck as she tried to keep her focus. Her blue eyes search for the mute button, eager to let a moan out but not wanting the world to hear. Even if the idea of it turned her on a bit. To fuck her girlfriend hard as the stream listened to her moan and pant out her name. She found the mute button finally.

"You're making this harder than it needs to be..." she hummed out. Eyes still trained to the screen as the character ran around. Just then, Jacks character ran by and she had hit the kill button. Winning the game without realizing.

Y/n unmuted quickly, "a killer in the night!" She cheered. She made herself comfortable in Agatha lap as she so easily switched back to the innocent gamer. "Another win for the compilation. One more round?"

A collections of agreements were thrown before the game started once again. It was a silent round this time. It was a mode that Y/n had brought up that was nearly impossible to win for anyone. Everyone was on mute and could only type one thing and had to hope everyone understood.

What she hadn't planned, was Agatha getting her revenge. Her wised hands moved better than hers did. They knew how to touch her and how to work her up without doing much. She sighed at the pressure applied to her chest, desperate suddenly for the round to end.

Blessed when she ran into the imposter and met her fate. She typed a quick goodbye in chat and her stream abruptly ended. Her headset flew from her head and she turned in Agatha's lap. Hands holding her cheeks as the kiss was full of passion. How she missed her girlfriend!

"I've missed you Aggie..." she sounded more sad than relieved however. It caught Agatha's attention instantly. And they both pulled back and stared at each other. "You missed our six years." Was all she managed before getting up.

She was right. Agatha was so busy with work conferences she had missed it and hardly even sent a text. "Oh angel....I'm so sorry. The meetings just, they distracted me from what's important. You know I never would...let me make it up to you."

"How about a late night? Like we used to? Where we'd just be bundled up and roam the city at night?" There was this big glimmer in her eyes. Begging to go out and relive a night of pure carelessness.

Ever since Agatha had become the CEO, she's had to been a lot more discrete about her public appearances. The cameras waited for her scandal so she would finally fall. The industry was out for her all because of how powerful she was. How powerful her company was. So when she lost the fight in her head, she agreed and began to change into something more comfortable.

Y/n was close behind her the entire time. Her arms wrapped around her waist as she picked out her clothes, head resting against her shoulder. Watching her hands grab the jeans that hugged her so nicely and her old college sweatshirt. But the younger moved quick, grabbing jeans of her own and the sweatshirt before running to the room to begin changing. She loved being in the others clothes, it made her feel more at ease.

"You know if someone saw you in that they'd think you're smart." Agatha had teased coming out the closet. She had already changed and was in just a simple purple hoodie. "Think you're a prodigy."

"I am?" Y/n spun around, finishing up applying lip gloss. Her smile being all the confidence she needed. "I may not be as smart as you are Ms. CEO but I thrive in other categories."

The woman hummed as she came closer, hands slipping under the fabric to hold her bare waist. Feeling the new set of beads that adored her. Curiously, she lifted to look at them. Her brows furrowed as she couldn't read out the letters. She crouched, holding her hips to stable her as she squinted. The purple beads went around and in the middle were her initials. It shocked her as she looked for the clasp to take them off, failing to find it.

"Aren't they beautiful? I had it custom made and permanently attached." She explained quietly, a finger slipping under Agatha chin and forcing her to look up. "Do you like them?"

There wasn't a verbal response as the brunette placed a kiss to the letters and came back up. Kissing her like the night depended on it. "Absolutely adorable. It suits you well. But those aren't your initials?"

"No they are not. But one day, it'll be close enough. Now I was told there was a night out? It's not going to happen in this apartment." She folded her arms over her chest. It earned her a chuckle before she was being pushed towards the door.

That night was perfect. The two walked down streets and took everything in while laughing. Being caught in the snow made it all the better as they would dance down the emptier streets, humming tunes of their own. They had found a hot chocolate stand and could resist as they kept walking around. Their night lasted till the sun began to peak back up. Both absolutely exhausted but it was well worth it.

Yet, by the eight o'clock news, Agatha Harkness was all over. Her lover and her dancing down the road as the so easily figured out who Y/n was. A big CEO and a streamer spotted through the downtown area.

"I just think it's a little absurd, is this a grown woman having a mid-life crisis? Trying to find some joy in the youth of today?" The voice of the news man woke Agatha up.

Her eyes took a moment to register what was on the tv, and once she did her heart felt stuck. The world was ready to take her down for this so easily. Her phone had been blowing up. That's when she realized Y/n sitting at the end of the bed, eyes trained to the screen.

"God...they're assholes. How could they be so quick to assume such bullshit." Her voice was weak and Agatha knew there were tears on her cheeks without even seeing.

"Hun..." she sat up herself now. A hand reaching out to reassure her.

"I mean is she taking advantage of this young lady? She's hardly through life and this woman has trapped her." He kept going and Agatha's hand flew back to her.

Those words did it. They stabbed at both their hearts and Y/n had to look back to Agatha. Her jaw was clenched as she tried to fight the sob in her throat.

It wasn't even a second thought before the streamer was rushing out the room to her computer. Starting a stream as she paced back and forth in the room. Hands running through her bed head and trying to make it less messy.

Within seconds over ten thousand people were logged on to watch. The comments being a mix of insults and majority defending her. She sat at the desk as the tears still fell from her eyes.

The word gold digger repeated in the chat. "That's sick. Actually sick and twisted. You all don't even know half of the story. You saw a few pictures of me and her dancing and so suddenly I'm the gold digger? Did you know I've known her before she had everything? Did you know at a time we both were living paycheck to paycheck together?" The comments had gone still almost.

"You so quickly took and painted her as a woman going through a mid-life crisis, and is taking advantage, ruining my future, when in reality she has been nothing but the sweetest, most caring woman I've ever met. She has done nothing but worked her ass off for everything she owns. I have worked my ass off for everything I own. So do not think for a second I am with her for her money because in the end I don't need it to survive." She couldn't help how easily she spoke. Not stuttering through the tears, but firmly addressing the now millions of viewers.

"So maybe before you jump to every wrong accusation you can possibly think of, you should really just consider the fact love comes in all forms. And that woman who you all bashed for no reason, is the love of my life and always will be. I will love her until I quite literally die. And it is all by my own choice it always has been. Because I'd be a fool to let that woman go. I support her everyday, I have always been her biggest supporter, and I will always be her biggest supporter." She concluded, giving it one moment to see if anyone in the chat would say anything. But it was nothing but support now.

She wiped her tears with shaky hands before ending the stream. It was just her at the computer now. Along with the flooding of tears.

Agatha heard the cries and came around, immediately pulling her from the chair and into the hold. Burying her head into her chest as they swayed slightly. "It's ok angel.....we're gonna be ok."

"They're wrong," she managed to get out. "They're so so wrong!" She pulled back to stare up at her girlfriend. "You know they're wrong right? I don't care about..about any money. I never have I love you because you're you!" She was sobbing uncontrollably, she felt like she was spiraling.

Agatha cooed her back against her chest. "I know. I would never think that of you ever, and you know that." She was going to find whoever got the pictures and make sure they never hold a camera again. How could a world say such cruel things about someone like Y/n? She hugged her tighter.

"How are you able to just accept what they say?" Y/n mumbled into the chest.

"The world has been looking for something to rag on me for years. It just wasn't right that they were going to use you. Your love is not a weapon. Neither is mine." Agatha brushed throwing her hair soothingly. "Why don't we have a lazy day hmm? We'll start with a bath, then we'll have brunch and go from there?"

A small ok was sounded out. And that's exactly what they did. They spent the day in only each other's presence and away from the media. It was them and only them.

Just how it's always been.

[matan4il]

Update post:

The biggest thing everyone's talking about on the news in Israel right now is the finding of a MASSIVE Hamas compound underneath UNRWA's main headquarters in Gaza, and finding proof that UNRWA were supplying the compound with electricity and internet services, supply which allowed Hamas to develop their intelligence, used during the Hamas massacre among other things. When Israel published the finding of the compound, the head of UNRWA claimed they found nothing up until October, and weren't able to check anything since. Israel responded by pointing out that a compound so developed most likely took no less than ten years to dig and build, and that UNRWA was repeatedly told that Hamas is operating under its headquarters, but chose to ignore this. What I think is most telling is a tour taken by an Israeli journalist in the compound, where they showed him that the server farm in the Hamas compound is found directly under the server farm of UNRWA, and that cables from the latter were running down into the terror tunnel compound directly beneath it (source in Hebrew, here's a vid in English giving viewers a tour of the compound, I'll attach the vid itself below, too). Something like that doesn't happen by coincidence, and without the knowledge of those in the server farm above groud. Some of the cables were also cut in the UNRWA server farm, like someone realized the IDF was coming, and tried to hide the link between the two server farms. As one officer pointed out, if you're an innoncent, interenational humanitarian aid organization, you have no reason to cut the cables of your own server farm, or remove the name tags from the doors of the rooms inside your headquarters. You only do that if you have something to hide.

Israel's army has been fighting Hamas in all of Gaza, except the southern city of Rafiach (Rafah in English). There are a lot of Gazans there, who have been evacuated from other zones. There's also 4 Hamas regiments there, which means Israel will have no choice but to fight there. So the only question is how to fight in that city, in order to minimize the harm to the civilian population. There are reports that Israel's Prime Minister has asked the IDF to present plans both on how to fight Hamas in Rafah, and how to evacuate the civilians.

In that context, I got to hear a radio interview with an Israeli minister, who used to be the head of Shabak (Israel's equivalent of the FBI). When asked about the US warning for Israel not to fight in Rafah during the upcoming month of Ramadan, Avi Dichter said that it has never been a month during which Muslims have not fought in wars. In fact, in 1973 the Egyptians and Syrians (with soldiers from even more Arab countries fighting alongside them) chose to attack Israel on Oct 6, despite Ramadan that year starting on Oct 4, causing the war to be known in the Arab world as "The Ramadan War." More than that, in Israel Ramadan is always a time of peak alert, because so many terrorist attacks are carried out during it (here's an example from Mar 2023, when Hamas was encouraging individuals to carry out terrorist attacks during Ramadan, and here's another from 2022). Dichter suggested that if Muslims can carry out terrorist attacks during Ramadan (and it has happened outside Israel, too), the war in Gaza which was started by Hamas can continue during it.

On an Israeli TV news panel, someone shared the estimate that over 100,000,000 dollars (one hundred million dollars!) is the sum of money that Hamas made just since the start of the war from selling to the civilian population the humanitarian aid that was allowed into Gaza, and which Hamas stole from the Gazans (more than once, by using violence).

This is Chagit Rein.

She lost her son Benaya in the Second Lebanon War, back in 2006. I got to hear an interview with her following the fact that during this war, she decided she would try to visit the shiva (the mourning week following a burial) of every fallen soldier. According to her, she has so far visited the families of 400 soldiers killed on Oct 7 or since. "If they see me, then it's living proof that there can be a life alongside the loss. That was our kids' last will and testament. They died so we could live. So we have to live." When asked what she's asked most often when she visits the families, she said it was what she did first after her son's shiva. "My other son was being drafted into the army, so the first thing I did was to accompany him in that." She was asked whether there were moments when she was overwhelmed herself. She replied that she's seen wounded soldiers making incredible effortrs to come to the shiva of others who were killed, to offer their families some comfort. In one case, an injured soldier recognized her, and told her that it was thanks to her son Benaya that he was an officer in the armored forced. He tried to hug her, but was at first unable to get up or reach her from the stretcher he was on. Chagit recounted that she tries to make sure her visits would be about the families she's conmforting, not about herself, but that's when she broke down and cried.

This is Doctor Elai Chogeg-Golan with her husband Ariel and their baby daughter, Yael. On the right, their house in kibbutz Kfar Azza.

On Oct 7, due to Hamas' massive rocket attack, Elai was inside the bomb shelter in her home with her family from 6:30 in the morning, when Gazan civilians got in at around 1 in the afternoon. The Gazans tried to get the family to come out, but it wouldn't. Then, those invaders set the house on fire, probably thinking that would force the family out. Instead, Elai and the family tried to keep themselves safe using water. At some point, she recounts they even fought face to face with the Gazans, who tried to beat them with sticks from the outside. She said she managed to grab a stick, and beat them back. These Gazans then threw in two gas balloons into the burning house. Elai says that most of the burns she sustained were from the fire ball that that created. At some point, the Gazans moved on, and that's when the family got out, because the whole place was on fire, they were choking from the smoke, and even the roof collapsed. They hid nearby, but then baby Yael lost consciousness, and the parents decided to try and get out of the kibbutz. At the entrance, they met soldiers who helped get them to a hospital. Elai had severe burns on over 60% of her body. She was in a coma for 53 days, but incredibly, they all survived.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[archivequinn]

MADNESS (Eddie Munson × AHS Asylum) Part I

Summary: Three years after his disappearance, Eddie Munson is arrested for the murder of Chrissy Cunningham, Fred Benson, Patrick McKinney and others, but the truth is very different. When he can't convince people that Vecna exists and that he is innocent, he is committed to a mental hospital. But the only way out is to prove to the psychiatrist that he is not crazy. If he cannot convince the psychiatrist, he will be executed as a murderer. And he must hurry to do so because Vecna has come to finish the job he left unfinished. As Eddie fights for his life, what is the most his psychiatrist can do to save him when she learns he is innocent? Perhaps the only reason his psychiatrist wants to save him is not because Eddie is innocent, but because the two of them have developed feelings for each other over time.

Warnings: It's inspired by the horror series American Horror Story, so it has a lot of horror elements. Mention of blood, hospital, electric chair, execution, injury, sex, nudity, (+18 please, MDNI) extremely depressive thoughts, depression, drugs, self-harm, suicidal thoughts and attempts, violence, smut, claustrophobic, dark moods. (please tell me if I have forgotten anything.) please DO NOT READ if at least one of these is a trigger for you.

1989, Eddie Munson's Perspective.

The police officer punched me once more in the face. I swallowed the blood that filled my mouth. My eyes were so swollen that I could only squint. The police officer took a handkerchief out of his pocket and started walking around the room. He wiped the blood off his hands in disgust. But it was my blood, not his.

"Do you hear that sound, Munson?" he said through clenched teeth. Then he continued, "That's the voice of the Hawkins people who would destroy you in two minutes if I gave you to them. They want justice. We will give them the justice they want.''

I swallowed the blood that filled my mouth again. "I didn't do anything," I said, barely breathing. He walked quickly towards me and kicked the chair I was sitting on. I groaned in pain as I hit the floor, the sound of the iron chair hitting the floor echoed around the room, like a banshee screaming. My hands and feet were handcuffed. That's why I couldn't move, the police officer was already kicking me from where I was lying. I heard the door creak open and a familiar voice came running towards us.

Hopper: "Stop it! For God's sake stop! What are you gonna do?! Are you going to kill him?! He's just a child!''

The police officer who stopped kicking me spat on me. He was pointing at me. "He's not a child. He's the devil himself.''

Hopper grabbed the police officer by the collar and threw him out. Then he helped me up off the floor. When he uncuffed me, I looked at my wrists, bruised. I could no longer figure out where it hurt the most.

I could hear chants and shouts from outside, "Die, Munson! You murderer! Give us the murderer! His punishment should be execution!"

Hopper: We're getting you out of here. In an hour.

I didn't look up. "Who reported me? Who told them where I was? God, how can they find me after all these years?''

Hopper shook his head in a negative way. "I don't know. This is beyond Hawkins now. The FBI is on the case. You're all over the national news. Newspaper stories are being printed about you from all over the world. There's a caravan of reporters and news stations outside the front door. You're going on trial for killing four people and putting one in a coma.''

I said loudly, "Four?! Jesus Christ! Vecna only killed three people and put Max in a coma. Who's the fourth?''

Hopper didn't seem to know what to do. He was as bewildered as I was. He rubbed his forehead with his hand. "Jason. They say it was you who killed him.''

I punched the table. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? All the deaths in this town are blamed on me?''

Hopper: They're looking for someone to pin it on so they can get rid of the backlog of cases they can't explain. There's no one to defend you right now. The lawyers are dropping the case. And that suits these filthy pigs.

I asked the question that had been on my mind all along, afraid of his response. "So what's going to happen to me now?

Hopper looked at the clock on his wrist and headed for the door. When he opened it, I was relieved to see it was Dustin, Steve, and Robin. For a second I thought it was that asshole again. My bones ached when Dustin ran up and hugged me. I probably had more than one fracture.

Dustin: Dude… They're sending you away. They're sending you to Bloomfield.

Eddie: Bloomfield? What, I'm going to Michigan? Do you guys know how far that is?!

Steve sat down at the table in front of me.

Steve: If you stay here, they'll kill you. Prosecutor Robert wants to execute you on this case and become a national hero. That's why he won't let the crowd kill you. You're going to a safe place.

I laughed sarcastically. "When I get to the prison there, they're going to put me in the electric chair and make me Eddie double cheese toast anyway.''

Robin smiled nervously, biting her lips. I knew that smile.

Robin: Yeah, about that… You're not going to prison.

I raised one eyebrow and looked at her to continue, but it was Steve who spoke.

Steve: You're going to a mental hospital, man. You're going to Chassell mental hospital.

I grabbed my face with both hands, i was laughing hysterically.

Hopper: We somehow convinced them that you committed these murders, but that you were mentally unstable. We told them that you kept saying it was some creature you made up in your head.

Eddie: Well, that's already true!

Hopper: Of course it's true, you shithead, but they don't know that, and when they do, that's what they'll tell you! We're saving your life! If they are not convinced you are crazy, they will execute you.

Again I asked a question I was afraid of the response, "What if they are convinced I'm crazy? Then what happens next?''

Everyone looked at each other.

Hopper: This time there will be a discussion about you staying there for life. They will appoint a highly skilled and experienced doctor to determine that. Don't make a mistake. Prove to the court that you are crazy. After the court receives the psychiatrist's report and orders you to stay in the hospital for life, we will come to get you. We will also find the asshole who reported you.

There was silence for a while.

Eddie: What about Vecna?

Robin: Nothing's happened in three years. I don't think it will happen after this time, but if it does, we'll be prepared.

Steve took something out of his pocket. It was a walkman. I took the tape out and looked at it and I saw the name Eddie Mix on it. Steve explained it before I asked.

Steve: I put your favorite metal songs on it, you know you might need it. You should guard this better than your life and keep it safe. Your life may depend on it. So if he comes hunting you…

Silence again. When I stood up, everyone straightened up.

Eddie: Okay, one last question. How do I pretend to be crazy when I'm not?

Hopper shrugged. I felt like I had just asked the easiest question in the world and I didn't even know it.

Hopper: Just tell them the truth. No need to lie.

I nodded my head in agreement. I handed my hands to Hopper to cuff them. That's what the people wanted. They wanted to see the murderer caught.

The camera flashes...

Chains wrapped around my feet...

The people booing and throwing things...

I got into the police car amid curses I didn't know which one to listen to. A long journey awaited me. I never thought that one day I would leave this town where I was born and raised like this. But one day I would come back here, exonerated, they would come to get me. I knew it.

I walked through the door of the hospital, whose gloomy atmosphere could be seen for miles around. The hospital was old and decrepit, with peeling paint and flickering fluorescent lights that cast an eerie glow on everything. The air smelled of antiseptic and decay, like something had died there a long time ago but never been properly disposed of. And in the distance, I could hear faint whispers and moans from the patients who were trapped inside.

It smelled disgusting inside. It was black and white, maybe gray. It was as if they were living in a movie from the fifties. There was no sign of life in their eyes, if there was a smell of despair, it would smell like this place. I wondered what to do in such a dull and boring place.

The people in blue clothes were patients. I could tell right away. The ones in white were nurses and the ones in white coats were doctors. I had been to enough churches to know that those in black were nuns. Of course, that was a long time ago. And then there were the guards. I noticed that they all had tasers in their pockets. None of them carried real guns.

The big hall was a vast, cavernous space with high ceilings and also peeling wallpaper. There were rows of metal chairs bolted to the floor, like something out of an old-fashioned movie theater. And in the center of the room stood a massive statue of some long-dead saint or martyr, its face twisted into an expression of agony.

A male nurse was accompanying me as I walked towards the guards. Since I was the only one dressed differently, even the patients noticed me. One of them pointed a pointing finger at me and laughed. You turn around and laugh at yourself, you jerk.

For a moment it occurred to me that if I stayed here I might actually go crazy. I turned to the nurse next to me.

Eddie. Eddie: Where are we going?

The corridors… well, they were narrow and dimly lit, with flickering fluorescent lights that cast strange shadows on the walls. I could hear footsteps echoing down them at odd hours - sometimes from other patients shuffling along in their slippers, but other times from things that didn't quite seem human.

Nurse: To get you a ward to sleep in and to get your patient clothes.

I laughed like I was teasing.

Eddie: Will I have a roommate?

The nurse gave a laugh that made it clear he was mocking me.

Nurse: Satan-worshipping assholes like you should be left alone.

As I walked through the dirty and narrow corridors, I wondered which doctor was my doctor. Meanwhile, the nurse continued to complain.

Nurse: I don't understand why they put you in ward A. You assholes belong in C ward.

I hadn't lost my cynical smile. "They must love me very much. They didn't want me to die.''

There were guards bringing a stretcher from across the hall. A white sheet was draped over the person lying on the stretcher. They carried the dying patient past me, emotionless and sullen.

The smile on my face was gone and the nurse was enjoying it.

Nurse: See, Munson? This is your only way out of here once you're in here.

We went into a big laundry room and there were big baskets of the same color blue clothes. Blue dresses for women and blue suits for men. They looked like pajamas. An orderly woman was sitting in front of the door, chewing gum and flipping through magazines.

I noticed that it hadn't stopped raining since the moment I arrived here. All the windows were barred. I wasn't supposed to be in jail, for fuck's sake.

The male nurse left me there. I went over to the person at the door.

Eddie: I was wondering if I could get a L size, I'd like to wear a little looser.

She didn't even look up. "Do you want a personal chauffeur or a cook? Go and get one of those clean ones over there that fits you. Don't bother me.''

I rolled my eyes.

Eddie: Is there a bag or a closet or something I can put my stuff in?

The woman looked at me and lowered her pointy secretary glasses down to the tip of her nose.

"You think this is a hotel, son? The only thing you take with you when you come in here is your body. We even take the wedding rings of the married people who stay here. Because even with that, they somehow find a way to commit suicide or kill someone else.''

I frowned, "How is this allowed? Don't the police do anything?"

The woman thought I was joking and laughed, but when she realized I was serious, she nodded carelessly.

"Most of the people who sleep here have no family or acquaintances. No one comes after them. We are happy to have another empty bed because there are too many patients and too few employees. Now a new psychiatrist will come for you. As if it wasn't enough that we took you."

She was waving a pen in my direction.

I put on the blue hospital gown and put my hair up.

The cell was small and cramped, a musty smell that made my nose wrinkle. There was a single metal bed frame in one corner of the room, with a thin mattress covered in stains and tears. A rusted toilet sat against one wall, barely functional and caked with grime. And next to it was a sink - more like a metal basin than an actual sink - where patients could wash their hands if they were lucky enough to have access to water.

The whole place felt suffocatingly claustrophobic, like there wasn't enough air to breathe properly. And when i looked closely at the walls or floorboards, i could see faint scratches or gouges from previous patients who had tried desperately to escape.

I lay down on the bed and looked out of the window with the bars. Then I stood up quickly. I made a few laps around the room, which was already three steps long. They had taken everything. They had taken my walkman too.

I heard the guard shouting from outside.

"It's almost nine o'clock! Lights out soon!''

anyone who wants a tag list for part 2 please let me know 🩶

my first language is not English so I apologize if I made any translation mistakes, please share with me my mistakes and your thoughts about the fic, I would be very happy. 🫶🏻

[gambleofstars]

Electrician Reader as Vox's Assistant (Pt. I)

₍ ⌨ ᶻᶻᶻ gambleofstars is typing ... ₎

↳ ❝ [a/n: I actually left an ask of this concept in another writer's blog in here anonymously but I felt enough energy to write it now, so if you see some similar posts, that's why] ¡! ❞

Pt. II

⋆♡*  When you arrived in hell, the first thing going through your mind was: man that hurt like a bitch. Dying from electric shock was not the way you wanted to go but eh, fuck it. Not like your life was going anywhere far.

⋆♡*  Great news though: you're immune to electricity related risks!

⋆♡*  Soon enough, you got the hang of how things were run down here and it wasn't that different from the overworld (isn't that just food for thought) and adapted. You weren't above scheming and using people on earth, so why would you hold back on it in hell? There was a reason you were here, after all.

⋆♡*  You did some random jobs: cleaner, courier, the whole nine yards to scrape some money together and move out of the shitty hostel - of which you tricked the owner of to let you stay.

⋆♡*  After that, it wasn't long until you got into your groove again with the exact thing that got you killed - Electrical work.

⋆♡*  At first, it was just fixing little things, like TVs and phones for much cheaper than their manufacturer would. You knew it would bite you in the ass sooner or later because the big companies in hell (much like on earth) don't play nice when it comes to their money.

⋆♡* And the day arrived one hellish morning when you were promptly dragged to the HQ of Voxtech with not even a coffee in your system.

⋆♡*  Didn't take too long until you got a job here. Not any job, mind you; you were now the personal assistant of the most annoying CEO ever - Vox.

⋆♡*  You're pretty sure the reason was the fact that when he got into his usual hissy fits, throwing around monitors and overcharging every corner of the room, you had no problems withstanding the voltage.

⋆♡*  This manchild will look you straight in the eyes and froth at the mouth of how he hates the radio at least 5 times a day- oh- oh wait....... Make that six now.

⋆♡*  (Of course you signed an NDA, don't be ridiculous)

⋆♡*  Every day fell into a routine. You were out of the house by 7:00, signing in at the front desk by 7:32, by the coffee machine by 7:45 and standing with a double shot espresso in front of Vox's office by 8:00 sharp.

⋆♡*  He didn't shy away to let you know he appreciated the punctuality and if you were late in the future it would be showing accordingly on your next paycheck.

⋆♡*  The other Vees find you amusing, if anything. Maybe because you don't get intimidated by your boss' tantrums and stand unfazed, with a, now fizzy, coffee after them

⋆♡*  Valentino will pick you up like a ragdoll with all his four limbs and use you as a meat shield when Vox wants to bite his head off because of another PR nightmare he will have to deal with.

⋆♡*  (Of course he asked you to perform in one of his... movies, but the only answer he got from you was a dead stare and a loud sip of your coffee) (He did want to tear you apart after that, but you were called to Vox's office)

⋆♡*  Velvette, on the other hand, uses you as her personal mannequin whenever you're on your lunch break. Standing wearing the latest fashion items while eating your sesame bagel is a normal occurrence at this point. Don't spill anything though, or she will ask Vox to add after hour work for you (she has done it before).

⋆♡*  She does enjoy having someone to listen to her yapping when Vox doesn't want to (or when he's having a monologue of his own) even unwillingly.

⋆♡*  Finally, in the after hours, when the otherwise empty office is only illuminated by only your computer, you'll go out on the balcony, in the windy night of the pride ring city, light a cigarette and close your eyes for a bit.

⋆♡*  Just for a second, this feels like home.

⋆♡*  Better than home.

hihi, first time writing here and hopefully not messing up haha 💋

signing off, gamble

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen

TW: NSFW, angst, possessive language, verbal violence, BDSM mention

In nothing but a towel, Ludlow strides to answer the door. You, still naked, shriek and run for the bedroom, certain there’s about to be a bit of a fucking disturbance.

“Morning, Dr. Bitch! Didn’t know you made housecalls?” Tom’s pseudo-jovial tone is nothing less than gloating. 

You stumble back out of the bedroom, at least covered by your threadbare blue paisley robe, to find Dr. Julian Mercer on your threshold bearing a massive bouquet of deep red lilies. The tension between the two men is palpable as an electrical storm, and a lump of dread lodges in your throat. The last thing you want is these two getting into a fight.

When Julian turns his sharp gaze to you, you can’t help but feel guilty, even though you’ve done nothing wrong. Gone is the sweet, caring doctor, something entirely more primal in his place. This is a man who perceives an interloper has touched what’s his.

“I see I’ve come at a bad time,” he says, a flash of his bottom teeth visible as he clenches his jaw.

“Nah. We were just having some breakfast. Want to join us?”

Julian takes in the remnants of the pancakes on the table, as though he can almost see exactly what you two had been up to. Well…your disheveled, half-dressed state probably said enough on its own. 

Instead of answering Tom, Julian’s eyes roll up from the messy table and lock onto your own. “Did you fuck him?” 

You are completely taken aback by the invasive, growled question, suddenly nervous and shifting on your feet. For a moment, with Julian’s intense gaze trained on you, you forget that Tom is between the two of you and that you’re safe. But, if Tom wasn’t here…you shiver at the prospect. 

Julian looks like he’s going to go full Jason Vorhees on your ass. You open your mouth to speak, but Tom cuts you off. “Don’t think that’s any of your business, Dr. Bitch, but if you must know..” 

“Tom,” you say quietly, encouraging him to shut the fuck up and stay out of this. 

Instead of pouncing across the room and sinking his teeth into your carotid, Julian sighs, his face drooping just like the sad flowers at his side, and shakes his head. “I understand.” 

Why do you always end up feeling like an asshole at the end of these debacles? Maybe it’s because you are the asshole. By the way Julian looks right now, it certainly seems like it. 

“Oh, poor thing.” Tom rubs salt in the wound. “Cry me a river.” He turns to you. “Are you really gonna fall for this crap?” 

“Tom…” You try again, but it falls on deaf ears.

“There, there, Dr. Bitch Boy, you’ll surely find someone else who is dumb enough to let you tie them up and hurt them. Consensually! Mustn’t forget the fine fucking print…” 

“You know,” Julian says, twirling the bouquet stem in his long fingers, dripping dew on the doorstep. “It’s a safe, rewarding practice between two mature adults. But, I guess you wouldn’t know anything about that, Officer Ludlow.” 

Tom chuckles. “Oh, wouldn’t I? Some of us can tie a woman up and make her scream without inflicting pain.” 

Julian looks, immediately, to your wrists, where sure enough there are still discolored leather marks marring your skin. He stares at you like you just kicked his puppy except the puppy is actually him. You wish you could be a bitch for once and not care, but you’re just a softy like always, staring back with what you hope reads as an apology written on your face. 

Julian looks back at Tom, expression changing drastically into something dark. “There are marks on her pretty skin.” 

“Uh huh,” Tom agrees. 

Julian, the fucking idiot, steps up to Tom, and you instinctually nudge yourself between them. You know how this ends, although you’ve never been on the receiving end of a testosterone tug of war; you’ve seen plenty of friends and relatives go through it. You put a spread palm on Julian’s chest, and look up at him. “Julian..” 

You can feel Tom’s wayward grin behind you. 

“You should be careful, y/n. This ogre is going to hurt you. You should stick with someone who actually knows what he’s doing.”

“I think we did just fine,” snipes Tom. “And we’re going to do it again too! Thanks for stopping by!” That is when Tom bodily lifts you out of the way to slam the door in Julian’s face.

A second later you hear your poor neighbor peeking out. “Is everything alright?”

“It’s just fine, ma’am, so sorry,” you hear Julian answer. “Here. I want you to have these.”

In your mind’s eye, you can just see Julian, chivalrous and well mannered, handing Mrs. Thompson the beautiful bouquet.

“Oh! What a nice young man you are!”

If only Mrs. Thompson knew. 

“Tom, I’d rather not have Julian know about this…” you gesture between the two of you. 

He leans on the doorframe, probably to shut off your rational brain again because that’s what happens, and cocks his eyebrow. “You’re just planning on keeping me a dirty little secret?” 

“What? No. That’s not what I mean. I just don’t want him to know the details.” You cross your arms over your chest without really meaning to, and you know he picks up on the hostility. “Jesus, you just like, shouted everything right down the hall.”

You look at your wrists, the faint red marks. You can’t help but think on what Tom said with such taunting venom. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

“What?” He asks, head tilting. “No.” 

“You said..” you take a minute to collect yourself. “You said that he would have to find someone else dumb enough to let him tie them up.” 

Tom skips right past your point, eyes narrowing. “You let him tie you up?” 

“Once? Sort of? But he freaked me out, so I asked him to stop. And he did.”

The look on Tom’s face is pure fury. “That little fucker could have done anything to you!”

The fact that Tom seems to think you are incapable of taking care of yourself only adds gas to your own burner.

“Look. I know you don’t like him, but he’s not a criminal because of what he likes, ok? Something…happened to him. He can’t fucking help it.”

“Yeah, I bet. Baby, I see this all the time in my job. These assholes are master manipulators, and they always have a fucking excuse. Oh my nanny touched me so I do terrible things. Bad shit happens to all of us. It doesn’t give anyone a fucking pass to hurt other people. You are so sweet and pretty and good…God. You are just the sort of soft little treat these guys live to gobble up.”

“I’m not a child, Tom. I obviously know there are bad men.” You’d certainly met your fair share of them. “You’re treating me like I’m an idiot. Julian stopped when I asked him too.” 

“And what if he doesn’t the next time? What if he keeps going? What if he hurts you?” He sounds like all those things would affect him more than they would you. 

Your knee jerk response spills from your lips before you can even think about it. “I don’t need you to protect me.” Even if this is exactly what you want, what you’ve always wanted, deep down. 

“Well that’s too bad, sweetheart, because I’m gonna. I’m not going to let anyone ever hurt you.” It’s not fair, the flood of warmth this inspires. From your head to your toes, and it feels so good you know you can’t trust it. Because when he inevitably breaks this promise, like all men do–it will destroy you. 

The moment shatters slightly when he can’t help but add, “Especially not Doctor Dumbass. What do you even see in him?” 

A part of you is so annoyed you’re even having this conversation, you can’t help but needle him. “Tall, handsome, single doctor who actually has manners. Silly me.” 

By the way Tom’s eyes narrow, you know the arrow hit home–and you kind of hate yourself for it. “It’s all a mask, honey. I’ve seen it a hundred times before. It’s a mistake to trust that guy.”

For a moment it jars you, that Tom is basically implying you’re going to sleep with him and Julian at the same time and potentially hurt them both, which means he thinks that lowly of you—he’s also saying, again, that you are too dumb to see through Julian’s “mask”. It makes anger flare inside of you, hot and bright. “Then I guess that's my mistake to live with.”  

You don’t really notice he’s inching toward you until you have to crane your neck a little bit to look up at him. The message in his dark eyes reads consuming, angry, possessive. A thrill perks every hair on your body. “Then I guess I’ll just have to convince you not to make mistakes.” 

“And how are you going to do that?” You ask, rolling your eyes, more than a little annoyed at this overt sideshow of the ol masculine who’s dick is bigger. 

He tucks a loc of hair behind your ear. “By fucking you so often you forget Dr. Bitch exists.” 

You don’t absolutely hate the sound of that, too-empty cunt giving a painful throb, toes scrunching up as that wickedly warm sensation travels from face, clavicle, chest, and then down your entire body, soaking you in lust. In this moment, you remember why you can’t fucking stand Tom Ludlow: because he is everything you need, everything you want, all wrapped up in a tall, laviscious package delivered right at your doorstep. 

A part of you wants to tell him that you don’t want anyone else but him–and a part of you would literally rather die than hand him your heart on a platter like that.

Worse yet, you’re afraid he can practically see the conflict warring in you. He sees too much, with those hawk-sharp obsidian orbs, cutting into you without mercy. He moves closer still, caging you against the wall with his corded arms on either side of you, his muscled torso that may as well be a brick wall, for all the luck you would have pushing past it. “How many times I gotta tell you, baby?” he says, his voice low, steel cased in velvet. “That I want you to be mine?”

He should be menacing, but this beast of a man leaning over you just fills you with need. You don’t know where you get the courage or the cheek to answer, except maybe it’s your lady parts finally getting their say, “You like to talk a lot, Tom Ludlow. Maybe you’d better show me?”  

He drops to his knees in front of you, kneeling at your feet, looking up almost reverently like you’re some sort of diamond encrusted statue of his chosen faith. He listens so well, silent as a mime, pressing his face into the thin robe over your rib cage, nuzzling and inhaling. Taking you in as if he means to memorize the smell of you. 

Deft fingers unwrap the tie at your waist, and he presses the lapels of your robe open with flat palms, guiding his warm skin along your own—the tender, soft stretch of your stomach. You shiver pleasantly when his grip lands to cup the curve of your waist and he kisses your bare skin, soft and wet and sigh worthy. 

Suddenly all you want in the world, is to lay this man out in your bed, and maybe never leave it. Why did Julian have to pop your perfect little bubble you’d so happily been in together? You try to move, wanting to take his hand and lead him to your bedroom, but he pins you against the wall with one of those big hands over your belly. 

“Tom…”

You kind of hate this, in the light of day, how he can still turn you into a needy, whiny bundle of nerves and weakened flesh, with zero self-respect. Every inch of your treacherous skin sings out that you do belong to him.  

“I know, sweetheart,” he says against the dip of your hip, and somehow this does soothe you. “But I’m about to get to the best part…” He tickles the curls of your mound with the tip of his nose, before nuzzling in to lick your aching slit. Your knees nearly buckle; if not for his strong hands on you, you absolutely would have melted into a puddle on the floor. 

“Fuck. Wait…”

“Nuh-uh,” he grumbles against you, tasting you again. “Take it like a good girl, y/n. I didn’t get to finish my breakfast.” 

He savors your taste for only a moment before becoming the man starved, pressing his face into the valley of your cunt and drinking from you like you’re the last spring of water in a dry desert. He pins you to the wall with bruising force as you and your pussy sob on his mouth, holding your lower half steady, lifting you almost off your toes, while your upper half claws and thrashes and pulls and probably leaves ugly marks in his tawny skin.

You try to say something, but it comes out as gibberish, a jumble of yesyesnonopleasejesusfuck. Too quickly, you near that release of clenched muscle, the symphony of your undoing, and he needs to slow down or—

He latches onto your clit with his mouth and sucks, tearing something more than an orgasm out of you. Something that makes you see crackling black stars, makes drool run down your face, makes a scream that will remind your neighbor of night terrors. 

Your legs do give out, but it doesn’t matter, because he lifts you in his arms and impales you against the wall, just in time to catch the last fluttering spasms of your release. He gives you no chance to recover, thrusting into you with his mouth latched to yours, devouring you with furious kisses and ruining you with his unrelenting cock. He does not stop until you cum again, almost against your will, or at least, in spite of yourself. It is as though he knows things about your body that you never fathomed possible on your own, knows just how to angle his hips to hit your gspot every single time. You’ve never been able to cum with just penetration alone, but his girth and curve and wicked skill combined make his cock a forceful weapon built for your cunt’s destruction. 

You cling to his broad shoulders like a limpet as he carries you into your bohemian nest of a bedroom, falling down amongst the colorful pillows, still inside you. Here on the soft mattress he takes you slowly, looking into your eyes and every time you try to close them, desperate for some reprieve from the intensity of it all, he demands your full attention again with his big hand on the side of your face. “I want you to know exactly who��s fucking you so good,” he tells you without a shred of humility, hooking your leg over his hip with a hand on your thigh, so that he can go even deeper. 

“As if I could forget,” you pant, the first real sentence you’ve managed since the start of this maelstrom. 

This makes him smile down at you, though there is a sharp edge to it. “Good. Because you’re mine now, baby girl. Don’t you ever forget it.” He does not even think about pursuing his own release until you’ve given it up one more time, with his filthy mouth working magic on your nipples and his hand between your legs plucking at you clit while he fills you. Only once you cum on his cock again does he let himself go right with you, and you see how close to the edge the entire time he’d been. 

Breathless in the afterglow, you lay in his arms as he traces the curve of your shoulder with his fingertips, lifting the fine hairs all over your body. It makes you shudder against him for the umpteenth time, burying your face deeper into his shoulder. The divot in his shoulder, that feels like it was made just for you. He smiles down at you, smug, yet somehow also soft, his lips on your forehead making a slow warmth lick through you from head to toe. 

“You’re tickling me,” you teasingly complain as he makes the gooseflesh rise again. 

“Just you wait.”

JesusfuckingchristIcannoteven…

Maybe you say it aloud, because he rolls over you with a wolfish smile, sweeping your hair out of your face as he sits up over you on his elbows. “Tom…” you pant, worried that he, in fact, is going to rock your world all over again. You don’t think you’ll survive it.

“I wear you out, sweet girl?”

You giggle underneath him, hooking your leg over his. “For now.”

“Good.” Again, that warm smile that makes you feel like you have fireworks lighting off through your veins. “You gonna think about me tonight?”

You wonder if he’s worried about you going to work–with Julian.

“Every time I try to sit down.” He loves this answer, his smile widening to an all out toothsome grin. Men. 

You don’t even know how you’re going to make it through your shift, because you’re fairly sure you’re never going to walk right again. 

He kisses you in one of those sloppy, wet, noisy, toe cramping kisses that he loves to give, and then lays his sweaty head on your chest. “What was Kansas like?” 

You giggle, running your fingers through his short, damp hair, loving the little shiver that you get from the feel of his strands on your sensitive fingertips. “Lots of farm fields and more cows than people.” 

He shakes you with his laugh. “And? Anything you liked about it?”  

You think back for a moment, to all the painful bruised memories of your childhood. “Our neighbor had a sunflower field. They were beautiful. We loved to climb her fence and run through it in the evening, get lost in the wonderful earthy smell.” You close your eyes, remember your sister's rare happy faces, remember falling in a giggling heap when you’d crash into each other, blinded by the tall maze of thick stems. 

He smooths a thumb over your cheekbone. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you, y/n.”

“Ah, that’s not true,” you tease. “There are a million other me’s.” 

His fingers dig into your side momentarily without warning, making you squeal and writhe. “Are they ticklish, though?” He muses.

“Stop it.” You bring his hand to your mouth and kiss his palm. “I have to take a shower.” 

“What a coincidence, me too.”

“Are you going to behave yourself?” You ask him, grinning at the faux innocence in his eyes. 

“Scout’s honor.” 

You’re very right about the whole ‘not walking the same’ thing. Tom insists he has to carry you into the bathroom for your safety because of how wobbly you are when you stand. It fills you with rejuvenated heat, the way he lifts you like you’re a small, precious thing and lays a juicy kiss on your forehead. 

“Bath or shower?” He asks, turning on your tap while you lean on the sink. “Probably shower, right? Fucking like rabbits on top of a bath is a recipe for disaster.” 

“Are you trying to impress me?” You ask him, unashamed of your eyes being consistently glued to the bare, lean muscles of his back and ass. You are only half talking about his knowledge of female hygiene. 

“A little.” 

“It’s working.” 

“Goody.” He grins at you over his shoulder, testing the water on his wrist as if he’s about to bathe a skittish cat. “I think I have it at a temp you’ll like.” 

He leads you into the shower with a steady arm around your waist, making sure that you step in and out without faltering, tugging you firmly against him while the warm water heats your conjoined bodies. He’s half hard again, pressed against your back, and it makes you giggle. “Jesus Christ, I don’t even think my teenage boyfriend had this much stamina.”

“Your teenage boyfriend ain’t got nothin on me,” he teases, kissing your temple. 

“No, Sam certainly doesn’t hold a candle to you, Tom.” 

He insists on washing your hair for you, and his big fingers are absolute heaven for the scalp. You even groan a few times in pleasure as he massages and lathers. “That is cosmic,” you tell him, resting your weight on his chest. Once again, you wonder what would inspire any woman to cheat on this delectable man behind you. 

“Want me to do the rest?” He asks while he smooths the soapy water out of your ends. 

“You first,” you tell him, maneuvering around so that you can wash him. 

“How can I refuse?” He asks, leaning down to kiss you. 

You grab a couple pumps of your sensitive skin body wash, not wanting him to break out in case of allergies, and start on his chest. You haven’t really gotten a chance to feel his body, yet. Sure, you’ve seen enough to last you many nights and then some, but touching is a different story; he’s planes of mahogany, slick, rocky lake floor, one long sensory buffet for your fingers to touch and squeeze and rub. 

His hands on each side of your waist tighten as you get lower, and once you’re at his hips his cock is standing hard and proud. You can’t help but grip the length in your fist and get him nice and lathered, tease him with soft touches that make his breath hitch and heighten. “Does that feel good?” You ask him, staring up through your eyelashes at his heady expression. 

“Amazing,” he grits, cock pumping into your hand a little bit of its own accord. “Think it’s my turn, though.” 

Terrorize Tom Ludlow, expect to get it back times ten. That’s what you’re starting to learn as he runs frictionless fingers over your nipples, makes you twitch and squirm and whine. The soapy lather adds an extra sensation to his touch, something that has you needy and wanting again in no time at all. You arch against him when he follows the path of running water down your stomach, over the mound of your cunt. “Does that feel good?” He mimics, grinning against your soaked hairline. 

“Fuuuck,” is all you can answer at the moment, your every nerve ending a slave to his hands. This man is going to be the death of you.  

“Your filthy fucking mouth,” he teases, and you can feel him grinning against you, the imp of satan that he is. It’s completely not fair, and you reach for him again, pumping him in time to his magical fingers sliding against your slit. 

“Oh,” he groans, bracing himself against the wall, caging you in, and you feel some satisfaction that at least you are not the only one going to pieces again. He catches your mouth in a sultry wet kiss, his thick fingers circling your clit. He’s slowing down, and you make a sound like an angry kitten against his lips. 

“What’s wrong baby?”

“You…are an evil man.”

“Me?” He is still grinning, but it's strained at the edges now. 

“Diabolical.”

“Mmm.”

“A menace.” 

He laughs, a grating sound that ends in another moan as you stroke his impressive length from root to tip, his girth utterly filling your hand, circling the contours of his glans with your thumb. You’re not sure if it’s really ten inches–all you know that he is your perfect fit. However, a part of you is grateful you’re not doing that right now–even just hands is almost more than you can stand. 

He lets out a shaky sigh, his forehead pressed to the top of your head as you touch each other in rhythm. He’s sped up to meet you again, almost as though he can’t help but move in time with you, the way you both seem to have a knack for finding the right timing together. There is something special in that, you know. Something cosmic, something terrifying if you think about it too much. So you’re not going to think about it now. You’re just going to feel, and let this man have his way with you for the umpteenth time in the past twenty four hours. You really have lost track. 

“I need you to cum for me, beautiful,” he says—not want, but need. Needs you to cum for him. Like he needs to breathe air and eat food and wear sunscreen. 

Both of you falter a little, teetering on the edge of orgasm, but it doesn’t matter because even the simplest touch, stroke, rub has you both spasming in the other’s hand. He spills over your belly, and the water washes it off your skin in pearly rills. You collapse against him, smiling, chafed and sore and aching but never happier. “Wait,” you say quietly. “Thought you said you’d behave? Scouts honor?”

He laughs. “I wasn’t in the Boy Scouts.” 

[kenandeliza]

So I've made that comic where Freddy "betrays" Billy in here:

But I have forgotten to post this alternate ending that I had in mind nearly a year ago, so here it is:

____

At the dead of night, after that confrontation with the crime boss, Freddy entered Billy's Office at WHIZ Station,

Billy ran towards him as he places down his documents, "where have you been!? Mary and I have been looking for you for the past week!"

Freddy tossed Billy the paper that the Boss gave him, "Undercovering for you, you told me it's difficult now for you to sneak into groups like them."

Billy read the paper before looking at Freddy worrily, "Are you insane!?"

“ Oh come on! This isn't my first Rodeo! I’ll probably do it again like the last time and the time before that!” Freddy grinned remembering that time he pretended to murder a police officer and was sent to the electric chair as Captain Marvel Jr and that other time where he disguised himself as a convincing Nazi Soldier

"But still, that was pretty reckless of you!! What if they find out you were lying!?"

"No, they won't find out"

"You're not going to listen to me if i said no aren't you?" Billy sighed, making a tired face

"Not at all!" Freddy grinned

Billy grabbed a duct tape near his office table, slowly heading towards Freddy.

“Uh oh”, Freddy took a few steps back.

“Freddy, come here Freddy~” Billy made a sickeningly sweet voice as he approached the newsboy, his voice is like the one you use for convincing a scared cat to get a shot at the vet.

As Billy unrolled the duct tape, Freddy immediately made a run for it. “HOLEY MOLEY, THE MIDGET HAS GONE MAD!!!” He shouted

“FREDDY COME BACK HERE SO I CAN STOP YOU FROM DOING STUPID THINGS!!” Billy shouted, running after him, intending to tape Freddy to a chair where he can't do anything stupid.

“CAPTAIN MARVEL!!” Freddy shouted.

“OH NO YOU DON’T, SHAZAM!!” Billy laughed maniacally, two lightning bolts engulfed them both.

Citizens at Fawcett would then report seeing a screaming flying child followed by a screaming flying man with a duct tape.

[two-white-butterflies]

parallel lines | d. targaryen | part two

Description: An ordinary middle school teacher moves to a desolate town with her fiancee. After suffering episodes of vivid nightmares, she realizes that his uncle looks exactly like the man in her dreams.

Pairings: daemon targaryen/reader, aemond targaryen/reader

Trope: Reincarnation

series masterlist |

"Trust I seek and I find in you Every day for us something new Open mind for a different view" - Nothing Else Matters, Metallica

(CANADIAN HEIGHTS, DRAGONVIEW. JANUARY 3, 2023)

"You couldn't have told me about Rhaenyra?" the sentence slips off your tongue immediately after the door slams shut. He takes a deep inhale, further expanding your doubts as he places his coat on the rack. "I don't like her - never did." he grumbled while walking towards the living room - you trail after him.

"I didn't think that you'd meet each other." he reasoned while opening a bottle of beer. "- it's the first time in twenty years that I've seen her work. She got the majority of Dad's trust." he avoided your gaze.

You continued staring at him - waiting until he tells the truth. "You could've told me that she was your sister." you pointed out. A scoff exits his mouth. "Half-sister." he corrected while taking his mug off the counter and storming straight to his office.

(STARLIGHT STEAKHOUSE, DRAGONVIEW. JANUARY 4, 2023)

The dinner came sooner than expected. Soon, you found yourself in the middle of a crowded steakhouse with all the school's faculty. It was pleasant to be in this atmosphere - they all had a familiar aura. One that you'd find in the Mayor's Office or a Family Reunion. They were all cool - nonchalant almost.

"The political climate in Dragonview is relatively calm. I thought all hell would break loose after Viserys died - but Corlys seems to be running this city well." Harwin, Rhaenyra's husband, proclaimed. You were about to ask a question, but a man walks in.

He had an impeccable posture, shoulder's straight - with the same command as a military officer. He was wearing black trousers and a polo shirt that was tucked in neatly. You could hardly make out the Lacoste logo on his chest - if it weren't for the smell of Le Labo Santal 33 that blinded you.

Your eyes trailed from his clothes to his face. Those fucking purple eyes - those eyes that you've been searching for. They looked like a field of Lavender, and all you wanted to do was drown in them. "Is she the new teacher in lucky St. Goretti?" he opened his mouth, his voice was velvety and deep. It made your head spin.

"Yes, the middle faculty's attractive levels are rising." Rhaenyra pats your back and you share a small chuckle. "I'm Daemon, Daemon Targaryen." he says his full name - like it was something that you needed to remember. He looked important, who was he?

"(Your Name)" you responded while shaking his hand. Electric sparks course through your body. Enchanted by a guy that you only met? Unethical. The man sits beside you - tracing his muscles through his tight polo-shirt. He was familiar. You knew him somewhere.

You knew everything about his body language - the way he leaned back when something was hilarious - the way that he took up space because he knew that he was entitled to it. His face looked like coming home. He looked like a thousand sleepless nights cuddled near the fire. But you shouldn't be feeling this way.

It was wrong that time stood still for a man other than Aemond.

"He's my uncle, actually. He owns the land where the school is standing in." Rhaenyra confirmed and your eyebrows merged into each other. "He's your uncle? Is he also Aemond's uncle?" you inquired, seeing an unsettling resemblance between him and your boyfriend. "He's our father's brother." Rhaenyra answered with a smile. "It's a small town, everyone's related." Harwin says.

You felt outcasted one more. Aemond knew everything about you, but you hardly knew anything about his past. When you asked him about it, he'd ignore you and move to 'better' topics. It felt like you were purposefully in the dark about him - like he was hiding something important.

"It's nice to finally meet you. My first meeting with Rhaenyra was quite rocky." you chuckled nervously, everyone in the table was searching for something behind your eyes. Waiting for you to remember? "So she's told," Daemon flashed you a rare smile.

"Of course, he's arrived fashionably late as usual." Rhaenys teased her cousin while cutting through her steak. "Do not get too cocky with me Rhaenys, just because you're the mayor's wife now." Daemon jested and everyone laughed at his joke. "You can't blame him, ever since his ex-wife died and left him that massive public library - he's spent all of his time there." Rhaenyra rolls her eyes, taking a sip of a diet coke.

"It's free and I will use it." he shrugged, turning his knees in your direction. You knew what it meant - he liked you. Was it possible that you weren't the only one with this feeling? "I must admit, I'm a little curious. Where did you meet my brother? What was his job again?" she placed a finger on her lips, attempting to remember her brother's job. Since her father's death, they've all went their opposite ways.

"He streams," you answer and the entire table falls into silence. They weren't luddites, but they were oblivious when it came to modern technology. "It's a work from home type of thing." you expanded and they all nodded. "How did you meet him?" Rhaenyra repeated her question and your face relaxes.

(BERNINA EXPRESS, SWITZERLAND TO ITALY. AUGUST 23, 2018)

Europe was beautiful, really cold, but beautiful.

It was your eighteenth birthday, also the death anniversary of your mother. It's been a decade since she died - life has never been better. "Coffee or hot chocolate?" the attendant inquires and you look at her, "Nothing, thank you." you popped those headphones back on.

So you're leaving, in the morning. On the early train.

It's been ten years since you've last listened to this song - it's humble melody still brought you comfort. You looked towards the vast horizon, soaking in the beautiful scenery of Switzerland. Never in a million years did you expect stepping foot in this country.

Well, I could say everything alright. And I could pretend and say goodbye.

"Miss, you're in my seat." a man leans down, standing beside you.

Your gaze hikes up to his face - he was an ethereal wisp of a man, he had a buzzcut and his hood was partially covering his face. Although, the hood wasn't enough to cover his missing eye. A purple eye?

"What? My seat is 13B." you stared at the ticket in your hands. You reached towards your phone, exiting Spotify and deciding to give him your full attention. "Yes, and you're in 13C." he clenched his jaw. Your cheeks turned crimson red.

"I'm sorry. Here, I'll move." you apologized, moving your body until you were seated beside the window. "It's alright, I'd sit there but I don't like window seats." he settled his backpack on his lap. A frown is etched upon your face, "How? It's the best seat." you voiced out.

An amused chuckle escaped his mouth.

"For you, maybe."

(STARLIGHT STEAKHOUSE, DRAGONVIEW. JANUARY 4, 2023)

"How did you meet him?"

"Europe, it's a romantic place." you smiled fondly at the memory. You always believed that you were lucky to meet him - the perfect strangers. It came straight out of a Disney movie. "Oh, where? Harwin and I met there too!" Rhaenyra cheered, quickly leaning on her husband's shoulder. "The Bernina Express."

Harwin's eyes narrowed - seemingly remembering an experience of his own. "Oh, remember that family trip when we went to in Italy? We took the Bernina Express too, was that where you met?" Harwin asked and Rhaenyra grumbled. "What date was that again?" she inquired and Daemon answered this time; with a shaky breath.

"August 23," he gulped.

It was the day where he remembered. The day that he began looking for you. "Exactly, it was my birthday." you smiled and Rhaenyra couldn't help but laugh. "We could've known each other sooner. Although, me and the others took the first class seats. Aemond insisted on getting the normal ones." she reminisced.

Daemon's teeth burrowed into his lower lip.

Did Aemond plan for this?

"Invisible string theory?" Mysaria inquired, but no one understood her reference. "We're glad to know you now," Daemon nodded - seemingly convincing himself. "Likewise," you smiled.

"(Your Name) can I get your Instagram? I took a really cool photo and I want to post it." Rhaenyra asked while pulling out her phone.

"Yeah sure!"

RhaeTargaryen: Dinner with the #SJTWSID Faculty! ❤️ Anyone know the full name of our beloved school?

liked by 3,854 others

>comments

cordenciagomes: st. Joseph the worker's school in dragonstone 🤣 a mouthful isn't it? - RhaeTargaryen: Quite 😅

HarwinStrong: Beautiful picture!

(RED KEEP MANSIONS, DRAGONVIEW. JANUARY 4, 2023)

"I hope that you don't take the entire thing to heart." Rhaenyra stands outside of her uncle's mansion, half her foot was inside the door - half was still splayed on the concrete. "Everything happens for a reason," he responded with a thin lipped smile.

Rhaenyra becoming his close confidant was a surprise. In his other life, he was older by decades - in this life, there were only four years between them. They could relate to each other now - know each other in ways deeper than shared blood.

She breathes a sigh of relief.

"I'm glad that's all sorted. Just don't think much about it, I'm sure that Aemond doesn't remember. We haven't seen him since that trip 5-years ago, where he met her." Rhaenyra whispered. "Do you think that he remembered there too?" he couldn't help but inquire.

Rhaenyra ponders for a moment, before seeing her son descend from the Grand Staircase. "Don't think about it, uncle." she moved past him. "Jace, it's time to go home." she smiled.

Daemon did think about it.

It was 12:00am. Four hours past his bedtime.

All he could think about was you. The thought of you being engaged to his nephew brought shivers down his spine.

You were his wife for gods sake! The woman that healed his wounds, showed him what true love meant. Aemond did not deserve you.

He closes his eyes, trying to remove the mental image in his head. His nephew's arms around your waist, pressing kisses on your neck. Aemond standing beside you, usurping Daemon's rightful place.

There was an indescribable feeling in his heart. Hopelessness.

He'd exchange all the money in his bank account just to feel you in his arms again, seeking comfort in him like you used to do before. He misses the way that you'd talk to him about healing, and sometimes he'd tell you stories about his past in the battlefield.

Most of all, he misses the way that you'd plan about the future. Naming all the sons and daughters that you wanted to have.

Sons and daughters that he promises to have with you.

Please remember. Was the last thought that went through his head until he fell asleep.

(TIRANO, ITALY. AUGUST, 23 2018.)

Daemon exited the building carefully, excited to finally be back in this beautiful place. The country where Renaissance began. He sees a woman - walking past him and he can't help but feel drawn towards her. She was beautiful, slender and with alluring eyes.

The world stood still for a moment, before he finally got the guts to open his mouth. "Miss, can you take a picture of me?" he requested, pulling out his vintage camera that he bought especially for this trip. "I really have to meet someone," she tried to reason, clearly panicked and staring at the floor.

"Please, just one picture." he pleaded - feeling that familiar pain in his head. Hopefully the dreams wouldn't return tonight. "O-okay," she stuttered, reaching for his camera. He adjusted his suit, leaning on one of the airplane statues that they had in the courtyard. She clicks, taking a picture of him - before running off.

All without staring at his face.

"Thank you," he whispered - holding his camera and feeling electric sparks course through his body. She was the last thing he remembered before falling out of consciousness.

.

.

.

DaemonTargaryen.phd: Beautiful day here in Tirano. 🇮🇹

liked by 632 others

Posted August 24, 2018.

.

.

.

next chapter >>

[emilybeemartin]

Ok ok ok ok listen. Because I have anxiety I feel it's my duty to say that this show won't be for everyone. I came to it over quarantine because my husband suggested we read Bernard Cornwell's series together, and I agreed because I liked Hornblower and knew this was the army equivalent and, let's face it, I wanted to see scruffy mid-thirties Sean Bean in uniform.

THE PREMISE:

Richard Sharpe is a lowborn rank-and-file soldier in the 95th Rifles during the Napoleonic Wars who is raised to an officer after saving Sir Arthur Wellesley's life (this all happens differently in the books, but the basic event is the same). Throughout the series, he rises in the ranks thanks to his bravery and heroism/recklessness, but he's always caught between two worlds--trying to be a leader of common men while never being accepted by the rest of the highborn officers.

Let's start with the bad:

CONS:

Look, this is a 90s drama glorifying the British army. So like, there are gonna be issues. Women are mostly romantic side pieces to be wooed and rescued, and there are plenty of subplots, verbiage, and stereotypes that didn't age well. Production values are low for the first few and so you've got battle scenes with like fifteen guys and a horse, which honestly I find endearing. But no episode is more cringey than Sharpe's Gold. Due to legal issues, the script had to be rewritten with none of the original material, and it turned into this bizarro semi-supernatural horror involving Aztec gold (in Spain, yes). It's completely different from all the other episodes, and even Sean Bean didn't like it (he called it a "mish mash," which is true). It's such a weird piece of work that we almost stopped watching the show, but we continued, and we were relieved to find that the rest of the series is markedly better. History Hack podcast does a great dive into why this episode was so whack.

PROS:

I MEAN COME ON

Sean really understood this character--absolute chaos on the battlefield and shy and awkward pretty much everywhere else. He's amazing in battle scenes and he's EPIC at acting wounded. But the scenes I replay over and over are when he's socially out of his depth and gets flustered and sputtery and so Sheffield the captions can't handle it.

Supporting cast:

You'll find a lot of your classic British TV favorites making appearances throughout this series, and the camaraderie among the riflemen is always fun. Obviously this is a dude fest, as stated above, but some of the women are also written and acted really, really well--- Assumpta Serna as Teresa is that winning combination of a love interest/action heroine who doesn't devolve into a damsel in distress, and even passes the Bechdel test on a few occasions. And Diana Perez as Ramona is so badass and enjoyable.

Locations: Aside from a few interior sets, these films are mostly shot outside on location, with practical effects and stunts. There's some gorgeous scenery of the Crimean peninsula standing in for Spain and Portugal, and it's just really fun watching these guys run around rocky escarpments and fields with flares and stage explosives going off around them.

Music: I saw someone tag the opening theme as "electric guitar jumpscare" and they're not wrong. It's wonderfully anachronistic and totally 90s and you'll never get used to it. But far better are the soldiers' songs John Tams threads throughout, as well as his and Muldowney's thematic scores, and you will always, always finish an episode with him singing "Over the Hills and Far Away" stuck in your head.

Filming Lore: There was a LOT that happened during filming. Everything from Paul McGann having to drop out as the lead to misadventures in filming in Crimea just after the collapse of the Soviet Union. History Hack podcast has an awesome series of "filming of" episodes with input from cast, crew, and historians, and Jason Salkey (Rifleman Harris) has a book called "From Crimea With Love" that details the batshit filming adventures. I haven't read it but he references it every six minutes throughout the podcasts.

So: you've been warned, you've been primed. Start with Sharpe's Rifles; it's on Youtube. Watch it and Eagle, maybe jump to Battle or Siege if you're not sure, and then make up your mind.

If this all sounds enjoyable to you, but you wish there were more tall ships, more Paul McGann, more heroic brooding, and even MORE true love cosplaying as masculine camaraderie, you're in luck! Because you should also watch Hornblower!

And then draw fan art of it all! Please,,, I am so lon el y

[usmsgutterson]

Kaz Brekker x Shy! Fem! Reader Headcanons

All right! This one was requested by @whitejxsmine​ and, in an effort to keep the note short and sweet, I’m going to apologize for how short this set of headcanons is, given how long it took me to see the ask she’d originally sent, and also, raine, if or when you see this, I am so sorry again for how long these took! 

Fic type- this is entirely fluff!

Warnings- one singular mention of death

Kaz is exactly the type of person who literally won’t notice if you don’t talk or are a generally shy person for a few weeks, I would think

He definitely gets lost in his own thoughts a lot and is never really one for words himself so when others are ALSO not talking, it’s not something he picks up on as quickly as someone like Jesper or Nina might 

Even after it gets pointed out to him he’s just like “she’s not one for words. What does it matter?” and that’s kind of just it

he’s also like, super observant so he learns to read your body language pretty quickly, and you end up learning to read the one man who everyone in the Barrel always claims to be unreadable as a result

A lot of your relationship is that, actually. Knowing and understanding each others limits and managing to find good communication even when you’re not in the mood to communicate verbally. 

It’s also a lot of give and take, a lot of “you hurt her, you die” and even more I will glower at you in silence while you threaten his life until you finally get the fucking point

Kaz doesn’t mind that you’re shy and not really outgoing, either. He’s more content at home planning heists as it were and after a while, he literally just expects to find you on the windowsill in his office reading a book. 

Speaking of books, though? Jesper makes fun of him for it but he goes to the bookstore every few weeks and leaves his findings on the bookshelves in his office. 

His goal is ALWAYS to find books he thinks you’ll enjoy because he’s trying to be subtle about wanting you to spend more time with him and he also just can’t really find the words to express it.

SPEAKING OF HIS OFFICE (I know we weren’t but backtracking is a thing that we do from time to time so shhhhh)

Kaz has a coffeemaker in his office. That is established in literally EVERY SINGLE ONE OF MY FICS because why would he spend kruge on coffee everyday when a coffeemaker is a one time purchase and coffee grounds are a bi-weekly purchase or a monthly purchase if you buy enough in one go? Kazzle Dazzle is smart about his finances and coffee is how he’s capable to run off of so little sleep so of course he’s going to have a coffeemaker

I’m getting sidetracked and before I do, he has a coffeemaker but a few weeks into your relationship he buys an electric kettle (I have no idea if they’d exist in the era that the grishaverse is set in but we’re going to pretend they do) a box of the tea you like, and a mug

If you’re a coffee person rather than a tea person, though, he makes note of what blend you like best and the additives you use for it and buys them whenever he restocks his own

He also gets you a mug if you’re a coffee person (and they say chivalry is dead, but it’s not)

generally, though, your relationship is just really sweet and not one people pick up on a lot because the ways that you show affection as a shy person with an introverted partner aren’t usually grounded in verbalities like “I love you” but more so looks and simple understanding.

[angrelysimpping]

Contents: GN Reader (you/your); AMAB Briar (he/him); light dubcon; brothel worker reader, just got done with a Friday gangbang show; oral, reader giving; lightly implied shipping of npcs

Words: 1,274

Staggering backstage, it's all you can do not to collapse against Briar as he throws an arm around your shoulder. A pleasant ache thrums through your body, cum dripping down your thighs as the crowd still cheers your performance.

"Quite the show you gave us, little star."

You hum in agreement, the closest you can get to speaking at the moment. Not only does your throat feel raw, but your head is dizzy. Even as Briar guides you away from the stage, towards his office, the edges of your vision feel fuzzy, the ground under you uneven.

Briar chuckles as you lean against him, a comforting rumble in his chest soothing after all the excitement. 'Excitement,' yeah, that's what you'd call getting gangbanged on stage for the extra money. But, hey, it meant Bailey got paid on time and you didn't have to worry about 'rent' for a bit.

The office door shuts behind you, and it's not long before you're on the soft couch Briar likes to lounge on. It's rare you get to sit here, rarer still the brothel owner joins you.

With his arm still wrapped around you, keeping you pressed to his side, you can't help yourself. You let your body relax.

He smells good, he always does. Cologne and musk and spice. Familiar in a way it shouldn't be. He's your boss. You shouldn't know his scent so well, shouldn't long to catch hints of it on days when you can't make it to the brothel. You also shouldn't crave his warmth or the feel of his long fingers tracing your spine. You shouldn't shiver when he lets out a low laugh, shouldn't burn when dark, kohl lined eyes travel over your exposed skin.

Yet, you do.

Turning ever so slightly, you press your lips to the sun tattoo that curves around his throat. He chuckles again, tips of his fingers ghosting over the back of your neck, "Why don't you give us an encore, darling?"

You blink, confused, but only for a second. The hand on your shoulder gently guiding you off the sofa, onto your knees in front of him, makes it clear what he wants.

A small thrill runs through you as he undoes his belt, spreads his legs to accommodate you as you shuffle closer. You almost groan when you see his cock. It's pretty, of course it is, just like the rest of him. Dusky tip, long shaft with a nice curve to it, not too girthy. It's already hard, a seemingly perfect bead of precum gathering at his slit.

Because of you. He was like this because of you. Your show. Sure, your body splayed out for all to see, holes speared open, a stranger's face buried between your thighs and making your back arch. But, you all the same.

It makes your mouth water, even as your sore throat twinges.

You glance back up at him. A jolt of electricity zips down your spine as you make eye contact. The light catches those dark eyes in a way that makes them look like they're shimmering, deep and unknowable.

Unknowable. You didn't really know Briar. Sure, you worked for him, but you didn't really know much about the man. You know he can act kind when he wants to, like now, after shows, after you've made him a shit ton of money. But, you'd also seen his face contort with rage, heard his voice drop dangerously low, felt exactly how brutal he could be when crossed. It made your stomach twist, desire tinged with fear.

All that, and you still lean forward, still take his cock into your mouth. Briar lets out a soft sigh, a noise of pleasure and contentment that sends shivers down your back. A warm hand comes to reason on the back of your head, spurs you onward, sinking further down his shaft. Tears gather at the corners of your eyes, protests from our throat that had been thoroughly abused on stage not even ten minutes ago, but you ignore them. You press on, forcing your muscles to relax, until your lips meet his base, nose pressed into his trimmed pubes.

Pulling back, you let your tongue drag along the underside of his shaft before, lazily, swirling around his tip. His fingers twitch against your head as you swipe over his slit. Salty precum spreads over your tongue, almost as addictive as the soft, near inaudible sounds Briar made.

You delve back down, setting a quick pace in hopes of wringing more sounds out of the brothel owner. Those efforts are in vain. Briar is free with his sound, never trying to stifle his sighs and moans, but they were far too controlled for your liking. You wanted to make him swear, to hiss your name under his breath. Wanted his hips to buck, even if ever so slightly, out of his control due to your skillful mouth, sinful tongue. You didn’t just want to make him feel good, you wanted him to unravel, if only a tiny bit. You wanted something from him that you could hold onto, to believe that you were the only one to make him lose himself, even if it wasn’t true. Having given so much of yourself to the brothel, to him, you wanted something of his, too.

In a perfect world, you'd pull off his cock. You'd shift down, mouth at his balls, suck the heavy sack into your mouth. This isn't a perfect world, though. Briar's grip on the back of your head has tightened, the rings on his fingers digging into your scalp just enough to make you aware that you couldn't stop this if you wanted you. So, instead, you grab his balls.

He grunts in surprise, nails scraping your scalp, and it feels like victory. Briar's head tilts back, the muscles in his stomach going taunt. His cock twitches violently on your tongue in time to how his balls pulse in your hand. Giving his balls a sharp squeeze, sucking on the fat tip of his cock, it gets you what you finally wanted.

The hand on the back of your head forces you down once more as thick, salty cum fills your mouth. He keeps you pressed there, though you wouldn't dream of pulling away now.

With a dizzying speed, he pulls you up, off his cock, off the floor altogether, and onto his lap. Deceptively soft lips meet your, a tongue sliding into your mouth.

It's not a kiss. You wouldn't call it that by any means. Teeth and tongue and force. A display of power more than anything else, his dark eyes burning into yours before you give into the instinct to close them.

Head starting to feel light, you try to pull back only for Briar to keep you pressed against him even longer, biting down on your bottom lip. When he finally lets you go, you jerk back on instinct, gasping greedily for air, and he laughs. “Oh, you pretty little fool,” he chides, “you don't know what you do to us, do you?”

You don't have time to truly process his words before he shoves you from his lap. Barely managing to stay on your feet, Briar stands, tucking himself away as he ushers you to the door.

“Don't be a stranger now, lil superstar.” He gives your ass a sharp slap as he saunters past you, disappearing into the mulling bodies and din of noise that were his clientele.

You have no way of knowing he's slipped from the brothel all together, humming to himself as he heads to Connudatus Street.

[ww2yaoi]

i would love to hear something about webgott brainrot :3

this evil beast… my first stab at webgott so I don't know how good it is but it's almost 60k and unfinished and everytime I open the doc it bites me and I go yowch! and I close the tab. it's basically just web and joe's summertime affair in austria and them fucking and swimming and occasionally almost killing each other. hopefully it sees the light of day someday

here's a snippet <3

David shakes his head. He can feel Joe’s gaze on him, but he refuses to return it. He thinks if he glances over and sees the look on Joe’s face, whether it be one of understanding or disgust, he might really break down.

“Why didn’t you become an officer, Web?” Joe asks. “You could’ve.”

“Because someone had to be the soldier on the fucking ground. Someone had to kill these goddamn Germans,” David says, his words slurring from the gin. “My parents resent me for joining up, and yet they wanted the Allies to win the war. Someone has to bleed and fight and die, but no, not their son.”

He swallows hard, rage bubbling up in his throat, forming a peach pit in his esophagus. “Fucking hypocrites. Maybe if I had gotten mowed down by a machine gun in Normandy they would have some fucking perspective.”

“You shouldn’t say that,” Joe says, sounding hurt by the idea. “Don’t be stupid, Web.”

“Yeah, well, I did say it.”

Joe sighs. His shoulder knocks against David’s, and it’s almost comforting. “Y’know, I always assumed you became an enlisted man so you’d have more interesting things to write about.”

David smiles to himself. “Yeah, maybe a bit of that too.”

He raises the bottle to his mouth, tips it back, but finds he’s drained the last of the gin. It triggers his anger again, which rips through him like a jolt of electricity.

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck am I still doing here?” David says, and his voice echoes across the lake.

He throws the empty bottle in the vague direction of the shoreline. It shatters against a rock, breaking into a thousand pieces. Joe flinches beside him at the sound. David hangs his head in his hands, tugs at his hair.

“If they’re going to send us to the Pacific, they might as well do it now. If I’m going to get blown to bits over Tokyo, I’d like to get it over with.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Joe says. “I think we’re here for the long haul.”

“Yeah, left to fucking rot.”

Joe makes an unimpressed sound at the back of his throat. “Come on, it’s not so bad. We’ve got hot showers, warm beds, decent food. It sure beats combat.”

“Well, it’s a gilded cage, Joe,” David says. “I want out.”

“I know, Web, I know.”

They fall into silence for several minutes. Eventually, Joe reaches over and rubs David’s back, working his hand over his hunched shoulder blades, over the tired notches in his spine. It tempers some of David’s outrage, settles his muscles that have been tensed since this morning.

“Do you have a cigarette?” David asks after a moment.

“Yeah.”

Joe reaches into his breast pocket and removes a pack of Lucky Strikes. He shakes out two cigarettes, puts them both in his mouth, lights them, then hands one to David.

“Thanks.”

David raises it to his lips but finds that his fingers are trembling.

Joe notices. “Your hands are shaking, Web.”

David puffs on his cigarette and smoke pools in his lungs. The hit of nicotine only serves to make him feel nauseous.

“I’m angry,” he says, cigarette hanging limply in his mouth.

Joe reaches over and takes David’s clammy hands in his. Joe’s are dry and cool in comparison, hard calluses built into his fingertips from wielding a rifle for so many years. Joe holds onto David’s fingers as they quiver in his palms, then runs his knobby thumbs gently over David’s knuckles.

Steady hands, David thinks. He loves Joe’s steady hands, even if they’re hands that have maimed and killed, heart lines baptized with blood that can never be washed away. Not completely. David has fallen apart so willingly beneath these same hands, let them soothe him and embrace him and pull him asunder. He would take them inside of himself if he could, let Joe pick through his body as if he were one big open wound. David wishes he were brave enough to ask him to do it, but he’s so often afraid, so he closes his chest and padlocks his rib cage and waits for Joe to find the keys to come in.

“Come on, let’s go back up,” Joe says after a while, letting go of David’s hands. He stubs out his cigarette and reaches for the flashlight, clicking it on. “I don’t know how you made it down here in the dark without breaking an ankle.”

“I know the path,” David insists, throwing his cigarette into the lake as Joe helps him to his feet.

thanks for the ask!

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 22

I never know what to say when introducing a new chapter because I don't want to spoil anything! So just read and I hope you like it 😊😊

Series master list

Chapter 23

Word count: 6.4k

Warnings have their own post (and contain spoilers)

For once you wake up before the shrill of the alarm, the old wind-up clock still ticking away on Frankie’s bedside table. Twelve minutes until it goes off with a ring that reaches your neighbors. Since your neighbor is Pope you’re well aware of this, his loud banging on the wall almost drowning out the alarm when he’s in that mood. 

You roll over and stretch out, your movements disturbing the bed enough to pull a low growl from Frankie. His arm is warm across your waist and when you roll over to face him he tugs you closer, tucking your head under his chin. 

“Don’t wake up yet, cariño,” he mutters, his voice rough from sleep. 

“The sun woke me up,” you mumble against his neck, “it’s almost time anyway.” Frankie’s hand smooths over your body, his fingers dragging softly over your back, as always they pause over the scars on your waist, just below your ribs. The gunshot wound healed over now, only rough patches of skin on either side of your body betraying what a close call it had been that day five years ago. 

“Five years to the day, Frankie,” you say, as his fingers circle the top scar. 

“Don’t remind me,” he grumbles, his fingers leaving the scar and slipping down to cup your ass instead, “five fucking years in a QZ, almost six years of this infection bullshit, and no end in sight.” He pulls you tighter, tugging the blanket over your heads, cocooning you under his warm skin and dim light. 

Almost six years had passed, none of them easier than the next but at least you were both still alive, still together. Still in Arlington and still living in the same building as Pope, Benny and Hannah. But the effects of society coming to a grinding halt became  more and more pronounced with every year that passed. Electricity came and went, blackouts were common. Hot water was rare now and often ran out before everyone had a chance to take a shower. But those were the things you got used to eventually, like patching every item of clothing until it fell apart, duct taping shoes until the holes were too big to fix. Greasy hair, broken fingernails, always wearing clothes slightly too big because you couldn't be picky about sizes when you needed a new pair of jeans after your old ones were so threadbare you couldn’t even use them for rags. But you did anyway because the end of the world unfortunately didn’t mean the end of your period. 

Rations getting smaller and smaller was harder to deal with, going hungry most days was rough. There was some food production up and running in some parts of the country, and there were less people to feed, a lot less people. But transporting food, or anything, between QZ:s was still a very dangerous business. In the no man’s land between QZ:s, raiders and infected roamed, each lethal in their own way. Only the most hard core smugglers had the skills and the guts to leave the QZ and scavenge for supplies or trade with other smugglers. 

Unfortunately for you, that was exactly what Frankie and Pope were now doing to make the ration cards last longer. Pope had lasted less than six months with FEDRA before he got fed up with the C.O. Feigning PTSD, he got himself discharged, telling you he preferred that to risking FEDRA lock up for punching the commanding officer. Together he and Frankie signed up for menial labor jobs inside the QZ, but it didn’t take Pope long to find new smuggling partners and new routes, going back to the job he’d done in Franklin. 

At first he didn't involve Frankie, his friend working through withdrawals and treatment for his very real PTSD. Benny had tracked down a FEDRA officer who used to serve in the marines and had worked with veterans after his retirement. The elderly man, Herb, seemed to be exactly what Frankie needed. His cut the bullshit, Morales, attitude had Frankie mentally sitting up straighter after their first meeting. It took time, but little by little, he was able to use the tools Herb taught him to stop his mind from spiraling out of control. The nightmares were still there, but less frequent and less frightening, and waking up from them got easier. As they lost their power over his mind, sleep without drugs became less intimidating. Quitting them cold turkey turned out to be too difficult, but with Herb’s advice, you took control over them, giving Frankie one tablet at night to help him sleep. Gradually you gave him smaller pieces, until eventually Frankie decided he’d sleep without them. He’d still wake up in a cold sweat most nights, but now he could bring his mind under control and go back to sleep. It didn’t always work, but you made Frankie promise he’d wake you up if he couldn’t fall back to sleep after a nightmare. It made the nights less frightening when he knew he could bury his face in the crook of your neck, breathe in your sleep warm skin as you wrapped your arms around him. Sometimes that was all he needed, to pull you tight against him, feel your hands stroke his hair, down his back. Other nights he needed to talk about the nightmare, or something else, distract his mind enough so that he’d feel sleepy again. Whatever he needed, you made sure he had it, challenging him whenever his old habit of doubting his worth crept to the surface. 

You needed him as much as he needed you, he gave your life meaning in the grim reality you now lived in. If Frankie was by your side, with all the love he gave you, there was still a reason to get up every morning and face the QZ. And you made sure he knew that, that his very presence made you feel calm and safe, and above all, loved. And you made sure he always knew how much you loved him, how if you had to choose between life before the outbreak without him, and life after the outbreak with him, you’d always choose life with him, despite the cordyceps virus and the heartbreak it had brought. Frankie was the center of your universe and you didn’t let him forget that for a single moment. 

After about a year of Frankie doing menial work and meeting Herb at a makeshift office in his apartment twice a week, Pope asked Frankie if he wanted in on the smuggling. FEDRA had once again cut the number of rations they would pay and smuggling would help with that. You had to give Frankie credit, he didn’t say yes to Pope straight away, he came back that night and sat down, telling you what Pope had suggested. It scared you, the idea of Frankie, and Pope, going outside the QZ. If something happened, chances were you’d never know, they’d just never come back and you’d be left worrying and wondering. But their smuggling made sure there was enough food on the table for the three of you, and supplies that sometimes made the difference between life and death; medicines, especially antibiotics, were hard to come by and there were several people in the QZ who owed their life to Frankie and Pope being able to get their hands on certain medication. So, reluctantly, you told Frankie to work with Pope. And honestly, you’d rather they work together than with someone else. Years of serving together had made the two of them in sync, perfectly suited to handling the dangers of smuggling in and our of the QZ.

One of the dangers was being caught by FEDRA. They’d banned smuggling as soon as the QZ’s were up. Or not so much the smuggling as leaving the QZ, strict quarantine rules were in effect and anyone caught breaking them was punished. At first it had been only quarantine, fines and maybe time in a lock up. But by the time Pope asked Frankie to join him, the official punishment was public execution, although that had never been enforced yet. 

Other QZ:s had fallen when people, both smugglers and others, had snuck in after being exposed to infected. Franklin was one of them, a small group of survivors had turned up a few days after the Franklin radio tower had gone silent. They said the breakout had occurred at the main market for trading, two people had suddenly turned and those bit as the market erupted into panic had been too afraid to face FEDRA, preferring to pretend nothing had happened. In those early days, many people still chose to live in denial of the infection. 

The survivors from Franklin had been put in quarantine, half of them had turned within the day, and Arlington FEDRA had deemed it too risky to let the rest in. They’d all been executed. Pope had left FEDRA shortly afterwards, he’d been assigned to the firing squad, his eyes black when he told you the story.   

By now Frankie and Pope had been smuggling for four years, establishing routes and connections both inside and outside the QZ. Today the plan was to go on a short run outside the QZ to meet up with smugglers from a nearby, smaller QZ. They were going to a location they’d been to many times, the route cleared from infected long ago and usually very safe, at least as safe as it could be outside the QZ. But they’re meeting with a new group to set up a new trade. The group had been recommended by smugglers Pope had been working with since the beginning, so he trusted them. But meeting new people and establishing a new trade was always risky. Pope had a long scar on his right forearm as a reminder from a new trade gone wrong, only Frankie’s quick trigger finger had saved him that time. 

“I need to get up, Frankie,” you mumbled into his chest, he still had his arm around you and judging by his breathing, he’d almost fallen back to sleep.

“No,” came the drowsy reply, his arm tightening around you. “You stay here with me today, fuck everything.” 

“Lovely as that sounds, if I’m late you know they’ll dock my pay, they’ve been worse than ever lately.” You wriggle out from under his heavy arm as Frankie grumbles in protest, but he lets you go. He has to push himself out of bed too and as you head to the shower to see if there’s any hot water this morning, he sits on the bed rubbing his eyes. He’d only woken up once in the night but it had been one of his worst nightmares. It was a recurring one replaying Lucía’s last moments, the loud gunshot echoing in his mind always woke him up, and when he opened his eyes he’d see her face floating in the darkness above him. Shoving the image away, he pushes himself off the bed with a groan and heads to the bathroom. 

Frankie follows you to the shopping mall that still houses the kitchen, although the FEDRA HQ has left and moved into a warehouse area that had been unharmed in the bombing. The warehouses had been converted into barracks, storage units, and holding cells. The latter more frequently in use than ever as FEDRA cracked down with increasing force on any civil unrest in the wake of ration cuts and stifling control over the population of the QZ. 

Outside the entrance to the mall you wrap your arms around Frankie’s neck and pull him close, leaning your forehead against his. 

“Be careful and come home to me,” you whisper, the same thing you always say to him before he leaves. He nods and kisses you before pulling away. 

“I love you, stay safe, hermosa.” 

“I love you too, stay safe, Frankie.” 

When you step into the mall there’s more people than usual around, and most of them seem to be gathered at the FEDRA notice board on one side of the large area. 

“What’s going on?” you ask Kim, one of your co-workers who’s standing on the edge of the crowd. 

“They’ve cut the number of ration cards they’re paying again, and coffee is no longer available with cards, neither is powdered milk. And they’ve cut the cooking oil ration in half,” she shakes her head and adds in a low voice. “People are gonna get pissed, especially about the coffee, everyone knows coffee is still served at FEDRA HQ every day.”

Another one of your co-workers, a young man called Peter, pushes through the crowd and joins you. “C’mon, let's get to the kitchen,” he says and grabs Kim by the arm, pulling her along and jerking his head for you to follow.  “What’s going on, Pete?” you ask but he doesn’t reply, until the door into the kitchen’s changing room has closed behind you. 

“They’re banning congregating, no groups larger than two people are to meet anywhere except if you’re in a family, starting tomorrow,” he says, shrugging off his coat. 

“How are they even going to enforce that? There’s six of us in the kitchen alone, everyone works in groups larger than two. Are they going to have guards everywhere?” you ask incredulously. 

“I don’t know, but the notice said anyone reporting on illegal congregation or ‘disruptive conversations’ will be rewarded with extra ration cards.” 

“So they’re trying to make people tell on each other,” Kim says, her voice grim, “they really are fucking facists.” 

“That’s not the worst of it,” Peter adds, “from tomorrow, the curfew five pm unless you have a special pass from FEDRA, if you’re on a late shift. And being caught outside after curfew puts you in lock up for a month, and then you’re assigned to the FEDRA work detail.” 

The FEDRA work detail was made to do all the jobs no one else wanted, disposing of bodies, sewage sweeps and cleaning, or assigned to the most dangerous jobs, like clearing the area around the QZ of infected on a regular basis. If you volunteered for them it paid well, if you were assigned to it as a convict, it paid nothing. Those people lived at the FEDRA lock-up and lived off basic rations for the term of their incarceration. There was no court system so the length of the stay was arbitrary, most didn’t survive long enough to see the end of their term. 

“They’re going to have riots on their hands soon,” you said, putting away your jacket and bag in a locker. “Between ration cuts and the ban on trading clothes and shoes, not even being able to meet with friends is going to push things over the edge.” 

Peter and Kim nod as the three of you make your way into the kitchen for your shift. 

You run into Benny as you get back to the apartment block that evening. He’s still with FEDRA, sharing an apartment with Hannah two floors above Frankie and you. Today’s the first time you’ve seen him in a few days, he’s been away on assignment and it’s good to see him back and safe. It looks as if he’s had time to shower and he’s just returning with a bag of groceries, holding up the door for you after you give him a hug. It’s almost funny, before the outbreak, you wouldn’t necessarily have hugged Benny or Pope every time you saw them. But now, with the ever present risk of each goodbye being the very last, you always hug them when you see them again. It’s also why you always tell Frankie you love him and to come home to you, when he leaves. You’re well aware that he might not come home, you push that thought to the back of your mind as often as you can, but you don’t want your last words to him be something mundane like ‘see you later, babe.” 

“Do you and Frankie wanna come up for dinner tonight,” Benny asks as you make your way up the stairs with him. “Hannah won’t be back until late but I need to talk to Pope and Frankie.” 

“They’re working on the far side of the QZ today, I’m not sure when they’ll be back,” you tell him, “but if they’re back in time for dinner we’d love to come up.” You’re pretty sure Benny knows exactly what Pope and Frankie does, how they supplement the ration cards they make doing odd jobs for FEDRA, but it’s never been acknowledged so you keep it vague. 

Benny nods and pauses on your landing, “Come up when you can, they can join us when they’re back,” he says, “I was given a nice bottle of whiskey by a guy today, I saved his ass a couple of days ago, guess he was feeling grateful.” 

“Sure, let me just shower and change and I’ll be right up,” you reply, giving Benny a wave. 

A short, and cold, shower later you’ve changed and left a note for Frankie that you’re at Benny’s place. He lets you in when you knock on the door two floors up. You’ve brought some leftover arepas from last night, corn flour is one of the crops not affected by the cordyceps fungus and is now a staple in the QZ. . 

“I miss bread so much,” you grumble as you hand the arepas to Benny, and he nods. 

“I’d kill for a grilled cheese,” he nods and your mouth waters at the thought of it. 

“And pizza,” you drool and Benny groans. 

“Don’t, don't make me think of pizza. That I really would kill for!” 

There were attempts at growing wheat crops that weren’t susceptible to the cordyceps fungus, but so far the batches produced were too small. And tending the fields was dangerous work when they weren’t fenced off. And you needed a lot of fence to fence off whole fields. But FEDRA often informed the public of encouraging news like these to keep morale up, and it was needed. Almost six years into the outbreak, morale was at an all time low and falling. There were still reports of vaccine research but so far there wasn’t even a way to slow down the infection once someone was bit and you remained skeptical to all reports of a vaccine. 

Benny pours you a generous measure of the whiskey and you laugh as you see the four fingers in your glass. 

“Trying to get me drunk, Benny?” 

“Na, if I remember correctly, tequila is your poison,” Benny chuckles and pours himself an equally large glass.

“I’m never drinking tequila again, even if you do find a bottle,” you grin. “Did Frankie tell you that’s how I blurted out that I love him the first time? Way too drunk for that kind of honesty.” 

“No, he never told me about that,” Benny turns down the heat on the stew simmering on the stove and sinks down onto the couch, you curl up in the opposite corner with your drink.

“It was that time I accidentally asked you if you were any good in bed,” you laugh and Benny grins. 

“I vaguely remember, I was pretty drunk myself that night,” he chuckles and sips the whiskey.

“Did you ever manage to hook up with that blonde you were trying to make me help you with?” 

“No, but I went home with her friend instead,” Benny gives you a wicked grin and raises his glass to you in a toast across the sofa.

“Of course you did,” you snort, toasting him back. 

“So you told Fish you love him while drunk on tequila?” Benny asks when he puts his glass down. “I always thought he was the first to crack and declared his undying devotion to you on your second date.” He’s grinning and you lean across and slap his arm.

“Be nice, Benjamin,” you chuckle before leaning back, “I think we were both pretty nervous about saying it, Frankie has so much baggage and I had a pretty shitty relationship behind me too. So while drunk on tequila I told him, while we were still at that bar, he took it well though, thank god.” 

“He was crazy about you from the first night,” Benny smiles at you, “I’ve never seen him so relaxed around someone he was dating as he did that time you guys ran into me and Will at breakfast, remember?” 

“Vividly,” you laugh, “Frankie might’ve been relaxed around me, but he was not happy you guys were there.”

“Was that a breakfast date or had you just…?” Benny shoots you another wicked grin and you have to lean over and slap his arm again. “I’m just asking,” he laughs, swatting your hand away, “Frankie did look very pleased, if you know what I mean.” 

You roll your eyes at him but can’t help but laugh, Benny was right on the money of course, that was the morning Frankie had proved he could make you come four times in short succession, turning your legs to jelly in the process. 

“What do you think, Benjamin?” you snigger and he tilts his head back and laughs out loud. 

“I fucking knew it!” 

“It was almost seven years ago, Ben, why do you even care?” you giggle, Benny has an infectious laugh and it’s impossible to be offended by his question. 

“Because I like being right, even if I had to wait seven years to confirm it,” he raises his almost empty glass to you in another toast. “To Catfish, and his enormous dick.”

You’ve raised your glass but almost drop it as you gasp with laughter, doubling over on the couch. “You are the fucking worst, Ben!” 

“Hey, I’ve been in enough changing rooms with Fish to know he’s packing some serious business, I’m just happy you get to enjoy it.” Benny’s laughing almost as hard as you are and neither of you hear the knock on the door. 

“Look at you two, getting drunk on a Tuesday evening,” Pope snorts as he looks in on the two of you on the couch from Benny’s front door. Frankie’s standing behind him, smiling at you. 

“Hey guys!” Benny calls, “We’re just reminiscing about some serious business,” he waves his drink in your direction with a grin, “C’mon in and join us, we’re sharing aaaaaall the stories.” You start giggling again, the whiskey has gone straight to your head and you feel all fuzzy around the edges, and even more relaxed now that Frankie is home safe. He pulls off his boots and sinks down behind you on the couch, kissing your cheek from behind as he pulls you into his chest. 

“Hermosa, did you let Benny get you drunk?” he smiles, the cool tip of his nose skating across your skin as you lean back into him. 

“Only a little, just a little bit tipsy,” you say, “I have no tolerance for alcohol these days.” Frankie feels warm and solid behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist and you drop your head back onto his shoulder, turning your head so that you can breathe him in as you press your lips to his warm skin. 

“Oh, she’s so drunk,” you hear Pope chuckle from across the room. 

“She’s not drunk, she only had a glass of whiskey,” Benny says, getting up to heat up the stew for dinner.

“Did you pour the drink, cariño? Or did you let Benny serve you? Because I’ve seen the size of his servings.”

“It was a pretty big drink,” you admit, “but I didn’t finish it,” you wave your hand at the table where your glass still sits. 

“That glass is empty,” Pope says and you pull yourself up from Frankie and look down at the very empty glass.

“Oh, I guess I did drink it all,” you say, and drop your head back on Frankie’s shoulder while he chuckles, you can feel his chest vibrating under you. “Benny distracted me, we were talking about you and that time we had breakfast with him and Will.” 

“You guys had totally just done it,” you hear Benny giggle from the kitchen and Pope snorts, he’s heating up the arepas, the smell of toasted corn starting to spread through the apartment. 

“Benjamin,” Frankie sighs from behind you, “don’t make me smack you.” 

“I’d like to see you try, Morales,” Benny challenges with a grin, raising his fists like a boxing champ, “Actually, I’d use your girl as a stand in, she’s lethal these days.” Benny adds and you smile at him. Praise from Benny on your fighting skills was rare and didn’t come easy. He was a tough teacher but he’d been drilling you every week since your gunshot wound had healed, taking his assignment from Frankie seriously. These days you felt fairly certain there were few people in the QZ who’d be able to take you in a fight, with the exception of Benny, and maybe Frankie and Pope. Benny didn’t even pull his punches with you any more, and he was finding it harder and harder to actually get a hit in without going into full combat mode. 

“Alright, dinner’s ready, c’mon on over,” Ben says, turning off the stove, and Frankie pulls you to your feet. 

“Let’s get some dinner into you, ‘not drunk girl’,” he smiles as you wrap your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes and bumping your nose to his. 

“I didn’t tell him how you made me come four times that morning,” you whisper and to your delight, Frankie’s ears turn pink as a blush creeps up his throat. He quickly checks behind him to make sure Pope and Ben didn’t hear but they’re busy, before he turns back to you. 

“And I’ve beaten that record several times since,” he smirks, an unusually smug look on his face, as he drops a peck on your nose.

Benny’s stew is mostly beans and root vegetables, a few bits of rabbit to add some flavor. There’s a small rabbit farm in the QZ, set up in one of the parks, and despite the rabbit population being small, there was sometimes rabbit meat available with ration cards, especially if you were high up in FEDRA as Benny was.

Almost six years in FEDRA had seen Benny climb almost to the top, but still one rung under the final top layer. The man in charge of FEDRA was still the C.O. who had taken over shortly after you’d arrived in Arlington, an obnoxious scumbag named Cox. And for whatever reason, he detested Benny. Personally you thought it was because Benny was respected and liked by those who served under him, something Cox was not. And Benny wasn’t one to suck up to the higher ups just to get a promotion, you had to earn his respect. Cox was a weak leader, surrounding himself with ‘yes men’ by giving them special privileges and collecting favors. Benny refused to play his game so he was stuck as patrol leader with few advantages despite being one of the longest serving soldiers in FEDRA. 

As it turned out, this was the reason Benny wanted to talk to Pope and Frankie tonight. You felt yourself sobering up, helped by the food and the water Frankie had poured for you and at the end of the meal, you all returned to Benny’s couch, the men with whiskies in their hands, you with a coffee. 

“How did the smuggling run go today?” Ben asks, looking at Pope, who all but sputters into his drink. He throws a quick glance at Frankie who looks equally flustered before he looks back at Ben. 

“Ben, dude, I don’t know….”

“Cut the bullshit, Pope, I’m not blind.” Ben leans back on the couch and puts his feet up on the low table. “I know you and Frankie have been smuggling for years. And I want in.” 

You could’ve knocked Frankie and Pope over with a couple of feathers, they exchange another glance and Pope slowly puts his glass down on the table, “What do you want in on, Ben?” 

“Listen, Cox is being worse than ever. The lack of supplies means he’s got less to pay his inner circle of cronies, who keep him in charge. So to compensate, he’s cutting the rations for everyone, FEDRA soldiers too.” 

“Why is Arlington so low on supplies?” you ask. “From what we hear, other QZ’s are doing alright, no ration cuts and none of this bullshit about stopping people from meeting and hanging out.” 

“Because Cox knows he needs his supporters happy if he’s to stay in power,” Benny says, “and he’s having to give them more and more supplies.” 

The inner circle around Cox, the ‘yes men’, are all intimidating, grim looking men, quick to anger and quick to use violence to get their way. The inhabitants of the QZ fear them and the arbitrary punishment they deal out. That fear keeps Cox in power, no one challenges him, not even the soldiers. You’d asked Benny about it a couple of times and he was certain Cox would order him on a suicide mission the second he sensed that Benny was challenging his power. And with Hannah to look after, he wasn’t prepared to risk it, so he kept his head down and was passed over for promotion. But now he was prepared to risk getting involved in smuggling, things must be bad, you thought. 

“I can supply you guys with information,” Ben says, looking at Pope and then Frankie when neither of them say anything. “I know the patrol routes, the times, and I see all the reports of supplies that are found. With my intel you could even hit some of the supply caches outside the QZ.” 

Frankie, always the quiet one, who thinks before he speaks, looks over at Pope with raised eyebrows, questioning him. He shrugs his shoulders and looks over at Ben, “I’m not gonna pretend your help wouldn’t be very useful, man.” Pope leans forward, elbows on his knees, looking up at Ben under his eyebrows, “But if you get caught, or Cox catches wind of you helping smugglers, you’ll be out of FEDRA and he’ll probably put you on FEDRA work detail if he can, proof or no proof.” 

“I’d like to see him try,” Benny growls, leaning forward to match Pope’s position. “This situation with Cox is going to blow up, sooner or later. And I don’t mean that I’ll lose my temper and punch him. The QZ is going to blow up, people were already unhappy, and with these new regulations…” Benny’s voice trails off as he mimics a bomb going off. 

“People at the kitchen were not happy about the new rules,” you say, “with FEDRA trying to get people to snitch on each other, it really feels like it’s turning into a police state.” 

Benny nods, “Things are brewing, and Cox is petrified, hence the new rules, but he just made things worse. And if things do blow up, I wanna be on the right side, and that side won’t be FEDRA.” 

“Ok,” Pope says, “if you want in, Benny, I’m fine with that, of course,” Frankie nods in agreement as Pope continues. “I just want to make sure you know what you’re risking.” 

“I know, don’t worry about it.” Benny replies, “And I’ll get you as much info as possible but eventually I have to leave FEDRA, and then I wanna join you outside the wall too.” 

You’ve been listening to the exchange with growing unease, it had always felt like Benny being in FEDRA gave both you and the guys an extra layer of protection, if something went wrong. But with Benny talking about how the QZ might erupt into violence and him leaving FEDRA made you nervous. Life was hard enough without having to worry about FEDRA’s unjust rules and on top of it all, with Pope, Frankie and now Benny, involved in smuggling, you feel like you were the only one not helping out. Just continuing to work for FEDRA in feeding the soldiers and bringing in less and less ration cards. 

“Maybe there’s something I can help with too,” you say, “like be a look out for when you guys come and go.” Frankie is sitting next to you and even before you’ve finished the sentence you can see him shaking his head but you ignore him and look at Pope, “Santi, you’ve said a couple of times you’ve had close calls because you had no early warning of patrols, maybe I could help with that?” Pope opens his mouth to answer but Frankie cuts him off, “No, I’m not letting you get involved with smuggling, cariño,” his hand is around your wrist and he’s squeezing it gently to get your attention, his eyes suddenly anxious. “I wouldn’t be able to focus on what we’re doing if I know you’re out there too, I need to know you’re safe so that I can concentrate.” 

“She’d be safe, Fish,” Pope interjects, “She’d be in one of our look outs inside the wall, just keeping an eye out fo-.” Frankie gives Pope such a dark look, it cuts him off and Frankie turns back to you. 

“I know you want to help, but I can’t let you, please, cariño, you’ve got to understand that.” 

You put your hand over Frankie’s and nod, “Ok, I understand Frankie, I won’t push it.” You see his eyes soften as he puts his hand on your cheek. 

“Thank you, hermosa.” 

The front door opens and Hannah walks in, looking tired and annoyed, just returning from her evening shift at the kitchen. You often worked the same shifts but recently they hadn’t been overlapping. 

You all greet her as she slumps down into the couch next to Santi and he gives her a hug, her head dropping onto his shoulder with a big yawn. 

“Let me get you some dinner,” Benny says and gets up, “Do you want a whiskey too? I got some good stuff today.” 

“A tiny, tiny one, thanks Ben,” she says, and twists her back around, stretching out her sore muscles. 

“Come here, hermana, let me help,” Santi says and makes her shift so that he’s behind her and can dig his thumbs into her shoulders, rubbing over the knots. Hannah sighs and drops her head forward as his thumbs work their way across her back. 

“Thanks, that feels amazing.” 

“Tough shift, you’re back kinda late?” you ask, used to how exhausting the evening shifts can be in the kitchen. 

“Yeah, but I wasn’t late because of the shift,” she replies. “You guys heard about the new curfew?” 

“Yeah, but that’s not in effect until tomorrow,” Ben says, coming back in and putting a bowl of stew on the table alongside a fairly large whiskey. 

“Tell that to Cox’s guys,” she scoffs. “They stopped a bunch of us coming back from the kitchen and demanded to see our permits and then threatened to throw us in lock up when none of us had any. I told them that’s only from tomorrow!” You see her eyes flash with anger and Santi taps her shoulders to make her relax again. “One guy, Peter, you know him,” Hannah looks over at you and you nod, you’d talked to him only this morning, “he told them they had no right stopping us now, that they were out of line and they grabbed him and started beating him up!” 

“What?” Benny spits out, “I’m gonna fucking throw them in lock up!” 

“Is he ok, Hannah?” you ask and she shakes her head. “I don’t know, they took him in  for ‘disturbing the peace’, he was bleeding but not too badly. But the fucking nerve on them!”

“I’ll check on him tomorrow,” Ben growls, “make sure he’s ok and get him out of there.” 

“And they let the rest of you go?” Santi asks, his hand still rubbing her shoulders. 

“Yeah, I guess they got the action they wanted, beating some poor guy up,” Hannah sighs, rubbing her hand over her face before picking up the bowl of stew. 

Later that night, as Frankie crawls into bed next to you, he has a worried look on his face again. 

“I don’t like the sound of what’s happening in the QZ, with Cox and his guys,” he says, pulling the covers up over you both and propping himself up on his elbow so that he can look at you. “Please be careful, and maybe come straight back home after your shifts, unless you absolutely have to go somewhere else.” 

“I’ll be fine, Frankie, you know me. I always keep my head down and stay out of their way,” you cup his cheek, running your fingers over his scruffy beard and he gives you a crooked smile. 

��I know, but you know me too, I always worry about you.” 

He lets you pull him closer and you easily find his lips with yours, making him part them for your tongue as he sinks down next to you. You give him a soft peck before you tuck yourself into the crook of his neck, his arms finding their places around your waist and under your head. 

“Love you, Frankie,” you mumble, sleep pulling you under. 

“Love you to, hermosa,” he whispers close to your ear, pulling you a little bit tighter against himself. 

Of course it was Hannah that became the spark. Hannah, the high school teacher, who Will had fallen in love with and married because her heart was so firmly in the right place, who kept his head steady with her unwavering instinct to protect the weak and always sided with the troubled teens at her school. For as long as Will and the guys had known her, she’d taken in every stray she came across, cats, dogs, hedgehogs, birds, kids. If there was a small creature, lost or injured, Hannah would take it in and nurse it back to health. The running joke was of course that Will was one of her strays, lost after years in the military, finding a woman who saw past his hard core military persona and let him find peace with her. 

While you kept your head down and avoided the FEDRA soldiers, especially the ones you knew were close to Cox, Hannah couldn’t keep silent when she saw someone being treated badly. 

And that got her into trouble and ignited the QZ.

Chapter 23

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko  @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse @harriedandharassed @meveispunk @hiroikegawa

[heartilywrites]

The fic of reader being varrick’s actress was so good i loved it so much!! Now i was thinking what about a korra fic with an earthbender reader who claims to be the best earthbender? And because she thinks shes the best she tends to act recklessly during missions but gets upset and overprotective when korra gets into even a little bit of danger 😋 when korra tries to get to the bottom of why reader is so reckless she finds out reader is just used to no one caring about her and during a really risky mission reader tries to sacrifice herself and tells korra “take my heart—take everything i have” angst to comfort plsplspls

Sorry if this is a weirdly specific request its just been on my mind for so long😔😔 LOVE U HAVE A GREAT DAY🩷🩷🩷

،، 𝓔verything I Didn't Say ; Korra

request guide | masterlist

resume: where your overprotectiveness for Korra takes a dark turn.

content warning: comfort ; angst ; gore explaining situation (wounds and blood descriptions) ; dysfunctional family descriptions ; korra x fem and earthbender!reader ; eye color description ; no use of y/n

wc: 3.1k

a/n: hello gorgeous!!!! im so glad you loved the actress fic <33 this one took me a bit 'cause i needed to add coherence to my own plot for the attacks, but hopefully i met your expectations!! LOVE U TOO, ENJOY :D

“ As long as I got you, I'm gonna be alright. As long as I got you, I'm not afraid to die.

Sounds of chunks of earth crashing against the floor while grunts, electric shocks, fire roaring and metal cutting air was everything anyone could hear from meters away.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Where the fuck is she!?” the firebender's voice asked with desperation while defending himself from the attacks of the enemy group. “Who was the last one to see Korra!?”

A loud bang was heard from behind followed with a couple of curses and a stumbling silhouette of you walking to them was seen. With the metal strips that you always attached to your arms waiting to be used you got the last opponents making your friends turn back to you amazed with how easy you made it look. A quick move of your hand pinned the three benders to the floor.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I had him.” Mako said, you chuckle nodding with a sarcastic face.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “'Course you did,” you looked around and frowned when only three heads were counted. “Where's Korra?”

Everyone opened their mouths only to be interrupted by a suden lightning. From the three, you were the quickest one to react and look for the source.

When arriving to the scene, Korra's image was quickly followed by a bender shooting lightnings at her, you felt your blood boil and were fast to act. The avatar stopped surprised seeing a piece of rock bigger than her being thrown at her attacker, not fast enough to hit them, but it made them run to dodge it.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I got this!” you screamed running beside her and being quick to attack again both with earth and metal.

Korra looked at your way of attacking, impressed with the boldness and agility of your movements, almost hypnotized until she forced herself to land back and help you. Not even five minutes after, every single person in the criminal group was captured and were being handed to the police officers. You were taking your metal strips to have them put back in place when everyone reunited.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You were amazing... As always.” the waterbender began.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Told you, the best earthbender this city has ever seen.” you shrugged with a proud smile, arranging the pieces of metal.

She smiled while shaking her head. “Yeah, but that was stupid. You could have ended up hurt.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “But I didn’t,” your eyes looked up to hers. “I'm the best at what I do, stop worrying about me.” the last part came out in a soft tone, Korra sighed.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Yeah, but we are a team! That's why we fight together, so we can have each other's back.” she argued again.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Drop it, Korra, I'm fine.” you finished.

Before the girl could even continue with her lecture, you changed the subject to something else, getting your friends to join and talk as a whole. The avatar had a little bit of a bad mouth taste after that little confrontation, but paid no attention to it.

On your next fight, it almost seemed as if two of the attackers were targeting you. With a big cut on your leg you were still fighting with everything you had, once again the whole team was victorious. While you were doing a tourniquet on your –not that deep, in your words– cut, Korra walked to you furious with a frown.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Are you fucking serious!?” she started, you were way too calm. “I told you we are a team! You don't need to fight alone!”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I don't know if you saw what I saw, but they attacked me first.” you shrugged.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “And why did you stopped us from helping?” now her arms were crossed on her chest.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Because I got them!” with a little bit of difficulty, you stood back up. “Stop babying me around! I know how to fight and defend myself! I don't need you to be all on me everytime we fight.” limping, you got closer to her. “If you wanted me in the team it was because you knew what I was capable of, you need to understand that I don’t need anyone to look out for me, I'm fine.”

Her ice blue gaze fought for a couple of seconds with your emerald eyes before you walked pass her. Korra sighed frustrated while pulling her face a little bit with her hands.

She didn’t understand your obstinacy, Asami had said you were a little bit of a stubborn when she introduced you to the team, but also said how you were such a good fighter and... That was it! Asami! She had to help Korra on her try to understand you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What do you mean?” the inventor asked, taking a sip from her cup of tea. Korra had asked her to speak in private, while everyone else was practicing outside.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You know,” she looked for you to name you. “She's... Something.”

In the distance your scream of victory was heard while Mako whined for a rematch.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I told you she was hot-headed, didn't I?” Asami answered with a giggle.

You and Asami had known each other for quite some time now. She met you in the beginning of your teenage years while you were still perfecting your metalbending and she was the first friendly face you have trusted in so long.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “No, I know, but why?” Korra frowned a little bit. “There's no way she's like this just because.”

The non–bender licked her lips with a thinking face, she didn’t how to explain you. Her amber eyes looked at you beating the brothers and smiled a little bit.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Her parents,” she began, not looking away. “She had them in the house, but they never wanted to be parents, so they never took care of her.”

Now Korra looked at you, even if the scene of you sitting on top of Bolin's back while having Mako suspended in the air with a metal piece in his wrists was funny, she made a grimace with her lips. Frowning them a little bit.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “For what I know she was on her own pretty much since she can remember... Both parents didn’t care if she lived or not, they would scream at her for literally anything and everything,” Asami shifted a little in her seat. “That's... uhm, that's why she is so good at attacking and defending, daughter of two earthbenders.”

Korra looked at Asami, flabbergasted to what she was implying. Golden eyes met her with concern.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “They made her feel like she was on her own for so long that is merely impossible for her to ask for help, she has always been either invisible or a perfect blank for them.” the engineer's voice sounded soft. “There was a time she lived in the streets too when all her parents wanted was to fight with her. They never looked for her either, not even now.”

The avatar blinked slowly, her friend shrugged.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “That is also why she is so overprotective of us... Of you, specially.” now the southerner had a confused look. “She wants to give people what she didn’t have for so long: a protector.” she explained and Korra took a deep breath in.

If Korra was about to be honest, the talk did helped her to understand you better, but not enough to get why even if she assured with everything she had that you could trust her and the team, you just didn’t see to believe her.

The next days she stopped picking up fights with you and concentrate more in making you trust her fully, it did make some difference, not the biggest changes she expected, but little steps were better than anything. And then, the attacks became more often; one followed by another until the group knew what was happening: a new affiliation of benders trying to take out the avatar because of the whole spirit situation, they wanted to "make the world back to what it was".

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “We need to be careful,” Korra was saying on the passenger seat while Asami was driving. “We don't know what they are capable of just to win.”

You felt the blue eyes look at you. You knew what she tried to say, 'be careful, don't do anything stupid, that's why we are going as a team', your shoulders shrugged.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “They can try.” you murmured, smiling.

Not even going as a surprise the group was able to have advantage over the association. In a matter of minutes they had you cornered in a hiding spot, defending yourselves as much as you could.

A grunt came from the avatar at your side and your reflexes were quick to catch her in time before her body could hit the floor. A clean cut on her arm bleeding was more than visible, you looked to the other side were the two brothers were already looking tired while throwing rocks and flames over to the attacker while covering the inventor who couldn’t help as such distance. Bitting your bottom lip you looked back to Korra who had a grimace of pain, tearing a bit of your shirt you tied it up over her wound.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You have to trust me.” you said out of nowhere while doing the knot, she frowned confused and nervous emerald orbs looked at her. “You do trust me, right?”

Her head nodded, still confused. “I do, but what–”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I love you, Korra.” the interruption made her forget her words. “I know Asami told you about me, please know that all I want is to protect you, I want you to be safe even if that means I need to give myself up.”

Her sky colored eyes were looking for an answer in yours, but you were occupied trying to burn the memory of her face in your brain.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I trust you more than anyone else, I want to give you... I want you to take my heart,” you corrected yourself, shaking your head. “I want you to take everything I have, everything I own, because I know you will treat me like I need to be treated.”

A tiny whisper of your name fell from her mouth. “I know what you're trying to do, don't.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Guys! They're near!” Bolin's scream got in the way, Asami and him were covering Mako who got hit by a lightning on his shoulder.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I got this.” you said in a chuckle, before taking a deep breath in. “I'm sorry.”

Without having the southerner notice, you had imprisoned her hands in one of your metal pieces. When she tried to stop you and realized her hands were tied, a scream of your name in such an angry and worry tone came from behind you.

Almost tripping on her own feet, she got to the other side with her friends and asked with desperation to Bolin to get the metal strip off of her with his lavabending and while the guy was working her eyes looked for you only to see you already bleeding and getting hit with rocks, but never giving up.

Even with blood and bruises, you were able to take down a big number of them. Some ran to hide to catch their breath leaving you with just another metalbender who was giving you a good fight. Looking to the ceiling, a plan was fast thought and giving everything you had to them you were able to make them step back down over a construction made of metal. A couple of metal strips were thrown their way to distract and after that, you tried to bring down the whole thing on them.

Even if it was working, they were able to take the metal strips off and shoot them back at you; since your arms were already occupied, you weren't fast enough to stop them and two of the metal pieces inserted into your abdomen.

Two voices mixed up in a scream, yours in pain and Korra's calling for you. A tired Bolin worked as fast as he could to get his friend out of the imprisonment.

Your opponent smiled with satisfaction and walked a couple of steps, having the metal deeper in the cut, with a little bit of momentum and all your strength left, you were able to tear down the construction on them; killing them or just making them unconscious it didn’t matter, the metal was way deep in your muscles that you couldn't feel any pain, just the way your hot blood was dripping down to your inferior part, soaking your shirt and part of your pants.

Once the avatar was freed, she got into the avatar state to finish the job of taking down the rest who was just appearing or got back into the field.

Too weak to take the metal out of you by bending or just pulling, you fell to your knees coughing blood. Your eyes were shifting, trying to focus on anything, scared that it could mean your last moments. You felt warm arms wrap around you, preventing your body from touching the cold floor. The southerner screamed for someone to get water.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hey, hey, stay with me, don't you dare close your eyes.” Korra said in such desperate manner, you were way too weak to say anything back. “Why doesn't anyone has water when I need it!?” she screamed while her friends were running to get water. “You're not alone, I'm with you.”

Unintelligibles whispers sounded on your mouth in such a soft manner that Korra thought at first you were only moving your mouth. Blood stained, a weak smile was painted in your lips and the avatar's eyes began to tear down.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Don't leave me, please, just hang on a little more.” she pleaded with shaky voice, slowly your hand was raised to brush her cheek, she didn’t matter the stain.

Your eyelids felt heavy, even if you could show much emotion, Korra could feel how scared you were. She was too, she didn’t want to lose you this way, not when she was able to stop it.

In a matter of moments, Bolin and Asami appear with a little bucket of water each just in case. The avatar felt a little bit more relieved and looked back at you, your eyes were fixated on the ceiling while they blinked in a dreamy way.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'm sorry, it's going to hurt.” she said to you, you slowly got your eyes to focus on her and not even a second before, Korra bended the metal out of you having a high pitched scream as a response.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “My spirits, I feel sick... I'll go see Mako.” Bolin said after witnessing everything.

With fast hands she waterbended over your wound while mumbling, your eyes closed suddenly and both girls feared for the worst. Korra couldn't feel your pulse for what it felt an eternity, she kept bending while tears built on her eyes and when she felt life signals from you and heard how you took a breath in, she relaxed herself and giggle a little bit.

After Korra stopped healing you when she knew it was okay to do so, everyone went to the Air Temple Island where Korra left you in her room. She had bandaged your whole torso and kept healing you every once in a while.

You woke up a whole two days after the events, your whole body felt like it was ran over and not to speak about your torso. Disoriented, you looked around, you were alone. With a bit of struggle you tried to sit yourself up between grunts and moans, letting your back rest in the headboard for a couple of seconds.

You were ready to stand up completely when the avatar's voice scolding you stopped any further movement.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What the fuck do you think you're doing?” she asked, your eyes looked up at her and discover a frown. Her hands left the tray of water and bandage she was carrying on the nightstand. “Lay back down if you don't want another wound on you.”

She helped you get back in bed and was quick to take the water bowl. You looked at her hands moving over your bandages.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Korra...” you called hoarsely, she was way too fixated in what she was doing. “Korra!”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I told you you didn’t have to fight alone!” she exclaimed back at you, shutting you up. When she looked back at you, she was teary-eyed. “You have no idea how scared I was when... when you didn’t respond.”

You stood in silence for a moment before speaking again. “I'm sorry... I just wanted to protect you.” she sniffed, taking one of your hands in hers.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “And I just want to protect you.” she said back, your heart skipped a beat. “You have to be the most important thing I have right now, I love you in such a way that all I want to do is protect you from anything and anyone.”

For the first time in a long time, you were at a loss of words. Smiling in such a ephemeral way, a small grip was given to her hand.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Well, that means we have something in common.” you tried to joke with her, when trying to laugh it ended in a complaint because of the pain.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Don't think you're safe from any punishment.” your smile dropped, making Korra smile herself with malicious. “You're to stay resting for at least a whole month and no missions for two.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What!?” your eyes widened. “That's just playing cruel with me now.”

The southerner kneeled beside you and left a soft and shy kiss on your lips. Your hand cupped her face, when trying to deepen the gesture and have her nearer to you, Korra distanced herself.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “If I get to have more of those I can stay a whole year resting.” you said smiling again, Korra laughed before going for a second kiss, forgetting completely any fear or anger in her, opening the way for the love she started to accept for you.