#borrowed swat characters

[satashiiwrites]

WIP Wednesday

So I got today to write 6k and finish this chapter if I wanna stay on track…. And I got stuff scheduled all day.

This is not looking promising… maybe by the end of the week?

Tagging @quietborderline @missanniewhimsy @megasaurus-regina @monsterrae1 @westernlarch @tkwritesdumbassassins @outtoshatter @muffinsandsweets @rosieposiepuddingnpie with no pressure as always. This is just for fun and to keep me on track.

Banner by radio chatter.

From: Family, Familia, ‘Ohana, Chapter 10: FUBAR, Danny’s POV

Fandom: 911, H50, SWAT

Pairings: Buddie, McDanno, platonic deacon/hondo

Fic summary:

When one family seems lost another comes back from the past. But does Buck want to return to the past or live in the present? And does his present lead to a future he wants? Only he can answer these questions but Steve at least will be there to support him.

Tags/warnings: kidnapped eddie, first draft, NavySeal!buck, alternative universe, timeline what timeline?, set vaguely season 3 911 and I’m not giving a time frame for H50 (because it wouldn’t make sense anyway). Written while sleep deprived.

Danny rubs his temples, fighting off a looming headache. He’s been staring at his own terrible cramped handwriting for hours. Steve’s fingers replace his, and he lets his eyes close with a groan as Steve rubs his neck and temples. 

“You got another headache?” Steve’s voice is gentle and soft. He’s practically sitting on Danny’s desk as he hovers, but Danny doesn’t care. They’re alone in the office, and if Steve wants to touch him, Danny’s going to let him. 

“Yeah.”

“I can get you some ibuprofen or Tylenol?”

“Took some with the Alka-Seltzer earlier.” Danny will pay for Steve to keep up the neck massage he’s giving. Steve’s fingers are digging into the knot that had been forming between Danny’s shoulders, and when it releases, he bites his tongue to stop from moaning. 

“You didn’t eat.” There’s disapproval and worry in Steve’s tone. 

“Wasn’t hungry.”  

He wasn’t.  

“This has been sitting out too long now. Do you want me to order something?”

“Let me rephrase. I am not hungry right now, nor was I.”

Steve chuckles, and his fingers find another knot, working into Danny’s left shoulder that he’d slept on last night on the sofa for a few hours. He’s ignoring Danny’s grumbling like usual. 

“These headaches of yours worry me.”  

Danny opens his eyes at this. Steve is close—closer than he’d thought. He’s wrapped himself around Danny, and they’re not touching other than where Steve’s hands are still rubbing his shoulders, but he can feel his body heat because Steve is that close. 

Steve’s observing Danny, waiting for him to say something about the concern he’d voiced, and Danny is floundering with what to say. He stupidly lands on, “They’re just headaches.”

“You’ve been getting a lot of them.”

“I get them when I’m stressed.”

“You get them less when you sleep over.”

“That’s because I sleep better at your place,” slips out before he can take the words back. 

“Why?”

It’s an innocuous question. Why? Why, indeed.  

He has his theories. Danny had slept better when he was still married and sharing a bed with Rachel, and he could roll over and cuddle with her, listening to her breathe. He slept worse when alone because he hated being alone. It’d never been a problem until he and Rachel had started having problems, and she’d kicked him to the couch most nights, denying him coldly. 

Danny was like a dog that needed a companion or otherwise would tear things apart out of anxiety—he needed another heartbeat to listen to in the night. Sleeping at Steve’s and knowing he was just upstairs or hearing his footsteps when he got up at night to do his patrols around the house that Steve swore he didn’t do but Danny had watched him do every night he’d slept over unless Steve was drugged or concussed… there was a rhythm to those nights. They usually watched a movie after dinner or a game and sat too close on the couch because Danny was too tactile, and Steve seemed to crave touch as much as Danny needed to give it.

Confessing this to Steve, however, was probably not in Danny’s best interest. Knowing Steve, he’d have Danny moved in by the end of the week, and Danny needed just a little bit of space for when Steve would inevitably find either another woman or Cath would finally wander back his way. 

Danny didn’t need a front-row seat to Steve choosing a leggy brunette or blonde over him. He was already going to be too close, and it would hurt when it finally happened. If Steve is talking to Cath, then… she will probably come back at some point. Danny hadn’t known they’d still been talking after she left him in Afghanistan a year ago to go chasing after missing villagers and hadn’t wanted Steve’s help. 

[gojorgeous]

Heyyyy I just wanted to say I love the way you write! I’m obsessed with your alpha!jjk character series. I’m very new to a/b/o fanfics buuut I keep thinking about how possessive they’d get if they smelled another scent on the reader, even if it was just from something like borrowing a sweater. I just imagine them like trying to override the scent n theyre like super determined to do it 🫣

Idek if that’s something that can happen in these typa fics but anywaysss

Have a good day!

Hey bestie! I decided I'd write a litle smthn smthn for you hehe. I picked geto cause he's more alpha to me. It's below the cut! (suggestive/a/b/o dynamics/jealousy):

"What are you wearing?"

You don't even look up from your desk, a little irritated that your late-night email check has been interrupted.

"Huh?" You scan a subject line and hit delete as soon as you realize it's no more than junk mail.

"What are you wearing?"

Your body jolts. He's using that tone that makes you melt for him- that he only ever uses when he wants, needs, your attention.

You turn quickly in your chair and your heart thumps when you see the angry furrow in his brow. "It's just... a sweater."

A muscle tics in his jaw and your eyes glaze over a little when smell his scent pumping thickly into the air of your office.

"It's not your sweater, and it's not mine. So where did you get it, hm?"

He's moving closer now, his spicy scent growing stronger with every step. You have to blink and swallow just to form a coherent thought.

"I-I got cold at work. A friend offered it to me..."

He's over you now, a hand curled around each arm of your chair, caging you in. A few strands of black hair have fallen loose from his bun and they brush against your face. The feeling makes you shiver.

His head dips until he's buried deep in your chest and you squeak when you hear him inhaling. You know you're in for it.

"It reeks of male."

You sigh, gently pushing him away. "I'm sorry, Sugu. I'll take it off-" You don't even get to finish before you hear a wretched tearing noise. "Suguru!" You can only watch as he literally rips the sweater from your body and then tosses it straight into the trash can. You swat at his shoulder. "That was a coworker's! What am I supposed to tell him when he wants it returned tomorrow?!"

His hands settle on your hips and the touch makes your skin ripple with electricity. His scent is even thicker now and he's so close...

"Tell him he shouldn't go putting his scent all over my omega." Your eyes glaze over and you whimper when a familiar heat starts swirling in your tummy. The primal side of you loves when he gets like this, loves when he stakes his claim.

You gasp when your ass is suddenly no longer in your seat and instead you're dangling in Geto's arms. Your legs swing as he carries you toward the bedroom.

"Sugu-"

"Shhh. We have to get that scent off you, no?" His smirk makes you shiver again. "And I have plenty of ideas on how to do it."

Hope you liked bb!!

[requiemforthepoets]

i want to be with you everywhere 𖦹 OP81

PAIRINGS: oscar piastri x female!reader

SUMMARY: you, big crowded places, and bad sense of directions are always a never good mix.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: another draft i found lol this was inspired by real events lmfao hope you enjoy this blurb! :)

REMINDER: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect to the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 830

WARNINGS: typos and inaccuracies

You and Oscar were the quintessential couple in the paddock. Oscar’s calm demeanor perfectly complemented your vibrant nature. However, there’s one thing about you that makes your life more interesting—your notoriously bad sense of direction. You don’t know how or why you’re bad at directions, at this point, it can be a blessing or a curse, depending on the situation. Your bad sense of direction can also be a good laugh for your friends and had also become a running inside joke in your family.

“Oscar, babe, I swear I thought the media center was this way!” You exclaimed, looking at your phone map, which seemed to be leading you in circles around the paddock.

Oscar chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “You’re adorable, you know that? But we’ve passed that same coffee stand three times now.” He pointed at the stand, causing you to pout, with cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I just…I’m really bad at this.”

“I know, and it’s one of the many things I love about you,” Oscar said, pressing a kiss on your temple. “Which is why I’ve come up with a little solution that can help us.”

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a little device. Which you had recognized instantly from the logo that is printed on it—it was an apple airtag, and handing to you with a grin. Grabbing it, you looked up at him, a bit puzzled.

“What’s this for?”

“Every time we go to a race or anywhere unfamiliar, I’m going to clip this onto your bag or slip it into your pocket,” he explained, smiling. “That way, if you get lost, I can always find you easily.” You laughed, eyes twinkling with amusement. A bit touched as well with his little gesture.

“You’re really going to track me like a wayward puppy?”

“Exactly,” Oscar said, his eyes full of affection. “Consider it a modern-day love token.”

The next race was held in Monza, and true to his word, Oscar has managed to discreetly attached the airtag on your bag before you left the hotel. As you both navigated through the bustling crowd, you felt more at ease knowing Oscar had your back, literally.

You began having the itch to venture out, the need for a coffee fix and grab a coffee as well for Oscar. Walking out confidently, you had managed to convince yourself that you perfectly knew the way like the back of hand, but you had spoke to soon. You had found yourself in a maze of unfamiliar trailers and motorhomes, panic was slowly creeping up on you. But you were able to remember the airtag.

Fishing your phone out of your pocket, you quickly open the Find My app, seeing Oscar’s dot not far from you, and sending him a quick message:

osco 🫶🏻 [2:45 PM] : lost again. can you please come find me?

Not a minute later, Oscar appeared around the corner, a wide grin sporting on his face.

“You found a way to use the airtag already, huh?” You sighed in relief, running up to him and wrapping your arms around his waist. “I did. Thank you for this. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Oscar hugged you back, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “At this rate, you’d probably end up in the Red Bull garage trying to convince them you’re a McLaren fan.” You giggled, swatting his chest playfully. “Hey! I’m not that bad.” You pouted, causing him to coo at your cuteness and pecking your lips softly.

“Oh, really? Remember last week when you ended up in the Ferrari hospitality trying to ‘borrow’ their wifi?” Oscar laughed and your eyes widened. “In my defense, their coffee was fantastic.”

He shook his head, still laughing. “Well, this time, you got lost trying to get coffee from the McLaren team’s designated stand. You were so far off, you almost ended up in the pit lane.” Your eyes immediately sparkled with mischievousness. “It’s not my fault their coffee stations look like they’re in a maze.”

“Well, here’s a pro tip,” Oscar said, guiding you back towards the seats. “Next time you’re lost, just look for the airtag beacon or, you know, follow the scent of freshly brewed coffee works perfectly too.”

As you both made your way back towards the McLaren motorhome, you playfully pretended to get lost again, dramatically scanning the area and calling out, “Oscar! Where are you?” This silly action had made him laugh and grabbed your hand. “I’m right here, love. Even if you did get lost every time, I’d be happy to find you. Besides, it has become my favorite side quest.”

“And I’ll gladly always let you find me.” You smiled, heart swelling with love.

The airtag had pretty much became a staple in your relationship. No matter where the races took you, you knew that you have your personal navigator, and Oscar knew he had someone worth finding every single time

[meaningofaeons]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ backbiting

⊹ character(s) - alhaitham, kaveh ⊹ word count - 1.1k ⊹ notes - gn!reader, fluff, jealousy, reader is part of the matra (alhaitham), reader is an akademiya lecturer/professor (kaveh), petname usage in kaveh's

⊹ katze's 500 follower writing cat-baret

ANON I HOPE UR SEEING THIS SORRY AGAIN FOR DELETING YOUR RQ!!! I hope I remembered it right and I hope you enjoy! also sorry if haitham is ooc it's my first time writing him! (ﾐዎ ﻌ ዎﾐ)ﾉ

⊹ Kaveh

Kaveh was pouting.

Not necessarily an uncommon occurrence from your lover, but you digress. He was clearly upset, and you weren't willing to let him stew in it any longer.

You approached him from his seated position at one of the desks in your lecture hall, sitting down in front of him to draw his attention. He always did like sitting in on some of your classes, but it seemed today's events had put him into a sour mood.

He grumbled a bit, cheek squishing into his palm as he looked away. As much as you wanted to assuage his worries with no shadow to your intentions, you couldn't deny how adorable he looked in this moment.

"My light, are you going to mope forever? What's got you down?"

"Pet names can't get you out of this one! I'm still mad!"

You reached out, pinching his cheek much to his abject annoyance. He swatted half-heartedly at your hand, holding his aching face once you finally let go.

You smiled just a bit.

"Was it because of Ardashir?"

"So you know his name, too, then," he mumbled quietly.

"Mm, so that is what it's about."

"Take this seriously!" Kaveh pouted, laying on the dramatics a bit thick. "I mean, does he not know that we're together?! He was all over you! I nearly leapt out of my seat when he tried to wrap his arm around your shoulder!"

You recalled that Ardashir did not, in fact, try to wrap an arm around your shoulder. He had stopped by to drop off a few course materials you had asked to borrow, nothing more. He was a tad closer and laid the flattery on a bit thicker than usual, however, so you could hardly blame your lover for getting upset.

Next time you saw him, you'd be sure to let him know to cool it. For now, you kept your attention on your boyfriend, brushing his blonde hair behind his ear comfortingly.

"Well, despite your fame, honey, I don't think most people in Sumeru care too much for who's dating who unless it interferes with or benefits their academics."

Kaveh turned away, still sulking. Your smile widened just a tad at that—he always got that way when he knew you were right, but given his stubborn nature, he could never fully relent victory in an argument to you or anyone else.

"I'll give him a stern talking to next time I see him, and I'll be sure to mention our relationship."

The blonde kept his eyes firmly trained on the wall, but you could see the way his sullen expression eased up.

"Or, better yet, we can 'bump into him' on our way to my next class. Holding hands and all. Let him see the competition he's got so he can reevaluate his chances."

As much as he tried to fight it, Kaveh smiled for just a moment, and you giggled lightly. He puffed out his cheeks, however, trying to hide his delight.

"Well, okay! I suppose that'll have to do for now."

"And I'll treat you to a drink tonight, too."

This time, your lover leaned into your hand, staring up at you cutely.

"You're so good to me... Sorry for getting upset."

You only kissed his forehead lightly, admiring the flush of pink adorning his pale cheeks.

"I'd do anything for you."

⊹ Alhaitham

Alhaitham does not get jealous.

He doesn't see the point in caring about who you talk to and what their intentions are. You both said you'd stay true to one another when you began dating, and he trusts you.

He doesn't participate in needless gossip or malice just because someone flirted with you a bit.

Well, not usually.

"That man isn't part of the Matra."

He says it factually, his voice cool just as it usually is. But after spending enough time with him, you can detect the barest hint of an edge in his tone.

You turn around to greet your lover, giving him a small smile.

"Ah, him? No, no. He's not."

"He's been spending a lot of time around your stations."

You giggle a bit.

"How would you know? Do you also spend a lot of time around my patrol routes?"

"Yes."

Right, Alhaitham was a difficult one to tease as always. Always so upfront and straightforward.

"I like to make sure you're doing okay, so I stop by now and then between work hours."

You smile again, patting his arm.

There was one way you could tease him effectively, though. And so, you continued to address his words for what they were at face-value—simple observations of someone you happened to speak to often.

"That's sweet of you. If I weren't so stretched thin across Sumeru City, I'd be visiting your office way more, too."

You noticed the twitch of Alhaitham's lips as you skirted around the topic of the man that just walked away once more.

Did he relinquish his dignity and just ask? Ask why that same guy kept loitering around you like a bothersome fly?

No. Alhaitham does not get jealous.

He won't entertain the situation, and he certainly won't entertain the slight smirk on your lips, the amusement you're surely gleaning from his shifting back and forth—

"So what's his excuse?"

Fuck.

"I think this is the only thing you're not as blunt as you'd like to be on, 'Haitham," you chuckled lightly, hugging his arm. His expression didn't change much, but he did grumble some such under his breath, his brow furrowing a bit. "Are you jealous?"

"There's no reason to be jealous, because when we agreed to start dating—"

"Yes, yes, I know there's no reason for you to be. He's only a colleague, after all, an acquaintance at best." You raised your own brow. "But I'm asking if you're jealous, not a reason to be."

"He was very close to you. Does he not know we're together?"

You beam, reaching up to pinch his cheek. He swats you away quickly, glaring half-heartedly, so you deign to take hold of his hand instead.

"Can you make time to come earlier tomorrow? If he sees me on the arm of the Akademiya's Scribe, I'm sure he'll be reluctant to push his luck any further. And besides, I'd been having a hard time trying to reject his advances anyhow. He's quite persistent."

Although annoyed at the notion that the man from earlier was bothering you in the slightest, Alhaitham seemed pleased all the same with your solution, brushing your hair out of your eyes with one hand while the other squeezes your hand.

"I think I can make time. No, I will make time."

You leaned into your boyfriend, chuckling again.

"Well, gee. Maybe I should get more men to flirt with me if it means you'll come rushing at my beck and call—"

The hand clasped around your own squeezed just a bit too tight, and you jolted.

"Ack— kidding! Of course I'm kidding! 'Haitham, ease up!"

[ambrozjas]

Hi can you do ponyboy with reader who hard on themselves because they doesn't wanna get bad grades <3

can i borrow a pencil? ꨄ︎

ponyboy curtis x reader

✧˖*°࿐notes 🧸 ᰔᩚ

this req was so cute :) thank you anon !!

✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ

fear of failure i guess? other than that i don’t think there’s any more

✧˖*°࿐ word count ᰔᩚ

689 words, 3615 characters

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

the school bell rang, creating an obnoxious sound that made you grit your teeth. but at least you could go home.

you and ponyboy only had a few of the same classes together, and by the time the end of the day hit, you were about ready to toss yourself into his arms once you saw him.

just as you were on your way out the door, heavy backpack full of textbooks slung over one shoulder, you heard your teacher call your name.

“hey, can i see you for a sec?” he said, beckoning you over with his index finger. you paused for a second in the door, contemplating what you did before you obeyed and walked back over to his desk.

he looked up at you, sighed, and took off his clear glasses, those circular eyeglasses that he so stupidly wore, full of pretentiousness as he claimed that glasses made man look more dignified or whatever. not that you cared anyways.

his interlocked his fingers and held his hands underneath his nose and sighed deeply again. you were annoyed at this point. he’s so far wasted about two mins of time that you could be taking to walk home, according to the crooked black clock placed on the wall. “do i need to make an adjustment for you?” he finally asked.

“i’m sorry?” you tilted your head to the side as if you heard him incorrectly. an adjustment?

your teacher simply grabs a paper out the drawer and puts it on the desk, a bright red letter circled on the top right of it. and your heart sank when you saw. you had gotten a c. you had gotten a c on your test.

“there’s no way..” you mumbled, grabbing the paper into your hands and looking closer as if the grade would change once you blinked.

“there is a way. this is unacceptable, and i’m sorry but if you can’t keep your grade at least higher than a b-, you cannot be in this class.” he smacked his lips, turning his attention back to the computer. you threw your head back and internally groaned as you made your way for the door.

while you walked home, you decided to stop by the curtis house. you just had to see ponyboy, hoping he would provide you at least some relief from this feeling of failure.

you opened the door to find it surprisingly unlocked, before assuming two bit or johnny had come over beforehand and forgot to lock it.

you moped over to your boyfriend’s room and opened the door. he bolted upright up, his book falling over to the side as you plopped onto his bed with your arms over your eyes.

“hi?” pony said, shifting his knee to nudge your head. all you did was groan.

“pony, i think i’m dumb.” you finally said, peeking at him through the small gap between your arms. you saw his eyebrows furrow in confusion, “you ain’t dumb.”

“yes i am. i can’t believe i got a c on my test. i’ve half a mind to drop out and get it over with.”

“stop sayin’ that, you’re not dumb.” he tells you, knocking his knee against your head a little harder this time.

“ow! wha’s that for?”

“tryna to knock some sense into you.” he replied nonchalantly before he did it again. “cut it out.” you said, swatting at his leg.

“then say you’re not dumb.” he knocked your head again.

“i’m not dumb, i just—“

“listen, if you’re so worried about it then why don’t i just help you study for a retake?” he said, leaning over you and pulling your elbows away from your face. “there are no retakes, ponyboy.”

“then for the next test. le’s start right now, i’ll help you with some notes.” he got up, and grabbed one of his notebooks off of his desk.

“pony?”

“yeah?”

you looked at him for a second, admiring how he was so willing to help you. how he actually cared. ponyboy was the best boyfriend ever in your eyes, nothing could ruin that.

“can i borrow a pencil?”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ sorry this took a bit !! i’ve been busy with schoolwork and wanted to write it comfortably without everything on my mind 🫶 hope you enjoy !!

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

[missaengg]

A Promise for a Kiss

Characters: Jude Jazza x F!Reader Tags: Fluff and Humor, One Shot, Kissing Word Count: 2297 Note: Inspired by Jude's Secret in the My Wicked Little Secret Event and of course, Jude's O_O face.

You discover through a chance encounter that Jude has weak lungs. But... how do you get him to quit smoking!?

ao3 link here.

You didn’t mean to overhear Jude and Roger that day in Roger’s infirmary. You were down there because you had burned yourself while baking scones for tea and wanted to dress the burn before it became infected.

Their footsteps echoed off the stone walls as they came down the stairs, the sound overshadowed by Jude’s dry hacking coughs. He was hunched over, chest heaving as coughs racked his body, struggling to breathe between fits with ragged breaths.

“Tch… Give it to me already,” Jude rasped, his voice strained from the friction and lack of air.

“Talk about a bad temper. You sound like someone demanding a beer at the pub.” Roger taunted the irate man next to him, amusement dancing in his eyes when he noticed you standing by the bookshelf. “Oh hey, lil lady. You hurt?”

You startled, feeling like you had just been caught red-handed with your hand in a cookie jar at Jude’s piercing stare, though you knew you had done nothing wrong. “Ah, yes. Sorry, I borrowed some ointment from you.” You motioned to the jar on the desk before you and your arm that was half-bandaged at this point.

While you continued to wrap the bandage and secure it into place, you noticed Roger reach into a cabinet where he pulled out an unlabeled bottle along with a syringe. Jude glared at the former doctor, but quickly rolled up his sleeve exposing his upper arm as coughs continued to violently seize his body. Your mouth dropped open at the sight of Roger roughly stabbing the syringe into Jude’s arm without any warning, who closed his eyes and sighed in relief without a single retort as the coughing dissipated. 

“What kind of injection is that?” you couldn’t help, but ask, finding the whole scene before you bizarre.

“A dangerous drug that ain’t been clinically tested or approved,” Jude muttered rolling his sleeve back down, his voice hoarse. 

You blinked. You wondered if you heard him correctly. Did he just say a dangerous drug, a dangerous untested drug? 

Based on Crown’s stance on the illegal drug trade, you were fairly certain it was not an illegal drug of any kind. Nor did Jude seem to be the type who would dabble in such activities. Was it an experiment of Roger’s, then? But if that were the case, you highly doubted Jude would be such a willing participant to the point of demanding the injection himself.

Roger chuckled at your expression, ruffling your hair with his big hand, which you swatted away. “I like that suspicious look on your face.” He turned to Jude who glowered at the both of you from where he stood. “Aw, you have someone to worry about you. Good for you, Jude."

Jude narrowed his eyes at Roger as if he were telling him to ‘watch it’, but said nothing, instead choosing to adjust his long coat that had fallen askew during his fit.

Roger snorted derisively before turning back to you. You couldn’t help, but think he may be having too much fun poking at Judes ire. “I’ve tried all kinds of things, and this is the most effective way to manage his symptoms.”

Symptoms? You felt your heart lurch at the word. You bit your lip, brows wrinkling at the thought of Jude being ill. Not that you would admit you were worried, though you weren’t sure why you would be worried about him in the first place.

“Symptoms? Is he ill?” You kept your voice light, but it tumbled out at a higher pitch than normal. You glanced at Jude whose attention was on the floor with his arms crossed, back against the wall. During your time at Crown, you had experienced Jude’s sharp tongue both directly and indirectly, and his silence was deafening to the point you wondered if he was even listening.

“They’re better now with treatment, but his lungs used to be real weak.” 

Oh. You snuck a glance at Jude, but couldn’t picture him as weak in any manner despite having witnessed his coughing just moments before. Your heart throbbed at this new revelation.

Jude raised his eyes to meet yours, something flashing in his eyes before scowling at Roger, confirming that he had indeed been following the conversation. “Oi, ever hear ‘bout doctor-patient confidentiality?” Jude pushed himself off the wall, but faltered, swaying on his feet. “Ah, damnit. Dizzy spell’s comin’ on again. Ya gave me the wrong dose, didn’t ya?” he accused Roger, taking in a sharp breath and slamming his hand against the wall to steady himself.

Roger replied with an air of nonchalance, shrugging at Jude, “Even if I did, the correct answer is still, I don’t know what the right one is, because I’m still gathering data from your body.”

You gaped at Roger’s admission. Not only was he treating Jude with a medicine that was being tested as it was being administered, he didn’t even know the correct dosage Jude needed. A chilling thought occurred to you sending a shiver down your spine. “Would Jude die if you injected him with too much?”

Roger contemplated the question for a second before bursting into hearty laughter. “Maybe!”

You continued to gape at the guffawing man in stunned silence. You couldn’t understand, for the life of you, how he remained so unbothered at the idea that he might accidentally kill his patient because he didn’t have enough data. Surely, Jude himself would be concerned at the insanity of the current situation, but when you looked to Jude, he also appeared nonplussed, though slightly irritated and much less amused than his counterpart, despite continuing to steady himself against the wall.

How were they both so damn calm about this?!

A few days later as you were passing by the parlor, you caught a glimpse of Jude smoking a cigarette and reading a book with a complicated-looking title in the large bay window.

You sighed. Roger had mentioned that he had weak lungs. Breathing in combusting paper and tobacco couldn’t possibly help. You approached the smoking man, who made no move to acknowledge your presence.

You paused, debating if he would snipe at you as he normally did, and if you were okay with that. “Is it okay for you to smoke?” you finally asked, strangely bothered at the sight of him having his cigarette.

Jude briefly glanced up at you, and then returned his attention to the book, ignoring you completely.

God, this man just had a way of annoying you, and yet knowing what you now knew about his lungs, you couldn’t help, but genuinely worry about him, fully knowing that you were wasting your time. You turned around to leave, but your heart began to throb once again, stopping you from walking away. Letting out a frustrated huff, you balled your hands into fists and turned back around to face him.

“I know in the past they thought smoking was good for you, but lately doctors are saying it can actually be harmful,” you stated, observing Jude for any indication he was listening, of which there was none. Internally, you fumed at his silence, but you also felt a sliver of desperation, a need to get through his thick skull. “Since Roger is treating you, I thought maybe–”

“Not a treatment, is it? It’s an experiment,” Jude commented.

You blinked at his interruption. Technically, that was true. You watched as Jude brought the half-burned cigarette to his lips, taking in a long drag and listlessly exhaling a puff of smoke while continuing to keep his eyes on his book. His long fingers tapped the ash into the ashtray next to him. There were six cigarette butts in a pile of ash in the tray. Just how many had he smoked in one sitting over how many hours?

Truth be told, you didn’t know Jude well. In fact, you only knew three things about the man. One, that he loved money. Two, that he loved other people’s misery, the sadistic prick. Three, that he was always sarcastic. And now, with this new information, you knew four, that he had weak lungs which required experimental treatment.

However, today, Jude seemed to have lost his usual edge, and he looked exhausted. Your heart clenched. This was not the man you had come to know during your time in Crown, and you loathed that it worried you… greatly.

“If ya keep starin’ like that, ya might burn a hole right through me,” Jude mumbled.

His words were missing their usual punch, and it threw you off-balance. You clasped your hands together scrutinizing Jude’s uninterested profile. If he wasn’t going to be forthright with what was ailing him, you would have to drag it out of him.

“Are you busy with work?” you asked. 

It had been a great surprise to you to learn that Jude was actually quite intelligent when you discovered him reading various books on complex topics in the library. According to Victor, Jude not only ran a trading company, but was also trying to branch out into the financial sector. Occasionally, he and Ellis would go out to collect debts directly themselves, and on top of running essentially two businesses, he also participated in missions for Crown.

No wonder he was so tired.

“None of your business,” Jude snapped.

You noted the dark bags under his eyes and the dull sheen of his skin. “Are you not getting enough sleep?”

“That ain’t none of your business neither.”

His reply had some bite, but his usual sharp voice was still slightly hoarse. While he wasn’t currently coughing, you wondered if he was still coughing occasionally in private, and if warm honey lemon tea might soothe his throat. On that note, you realized you didn’t know if Jude liked honey. You couldn’t recall if he had ever reached for the honey pot during meals.

“You sound rough. It really might be better to stop smoking.” This time when you shared the sentiment, your voice was much softer, and you winced, hoping that he wouldn’t pick up on the gentle concern.

“Tch…” Jude finally moved from his position. He stubbed out his half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray, and making eye contact with you, his eyes blazing with a strong emotion you couldn’t identify, he reached over to grab your chin. “I’ll quit if ya kiss me instead.”

Your mind went blank. “What?” was all you could muster at his question, and you internally cursed as a warm flush began creeping up your neck and then your face. His face was unnervingly close, and you could smell the cigarette on his breath, which you were surprised to find wasn’t unpleasant coming from him. His merciless glare bore into you. You held your breath, overwhelmed by his scent of cigarette smoke and spice, the heat radiating off of his body, and the intensity of his stare.

Jude narrowed his eyes, then quickly let go of you like a child who had tired of playing with his toy.

“Not my fault if ya dunno how to take a joke,” he muttered.

You let out the breath you had been holding, rubbing where Jude’s hands had been, still burning from his lingering touch. You berated yourself for worrying about him. Of course he was just fine. What had you been so worried about? Yet, a dull ache settled in your chest.

“Couldn’t die even if I wanted to ‘cuz of that shit promise anyway. Like hell are some damn cigs gonna do me in.”

You heard Jude grumble to himself under his breath, piquing your curiosity. “What promise?” you asked without thinking.

“Tch…” Jude grimaced, realizing that he had expressed his thoughts out loud. “Got nothin’ to do with ya, does it? Forget it.” You furrowed your brows. To whom did he make a promise? Did he mean the promise he made with Ellis, or was there another promise that you hadn’t heard about? And what did he mean, he couldn’t die even if he wanted to? 

The questions swirled around in your brain. Despite the sting of Jude’s sharp sarcasm, the desire to learn more about this man smoldered deep within you, but he would have to remain alive in order for you to continue learning about him. Chewing on the inside of your bottom lip, you slowly came to a conclusion, the only conclusion. He would have to quit smoking.

You grabbed Jude by the collar, dragging him down until his face was almost level with yours. Closing the rest of the height difference by standing on your toes, you pressed your lips to his. 

His lips were thin, but surprisingly soft and warm. He parted his lips in surprise, and you took advantage of the opening to deepen the kiss, tasting the cigarette smoke still left in his mouth on your tongue. You pressed into him, dizzy from his firm body against yours. For a moment you wondered how it would feel to run your hands over his lean, muscular body.

You pulled away, softly panting to catch your breath, releasing his crumpled shirt from your hands. Jude’s purple eyes looked down at you, open wide, his mouth agape.

“You said you’d quit if I kissed you,” you breathlessly murmured. You beamed at him, lips curving upwards into a cheeky grin. “Now you have one more promise to keep.”

You softly pressed your lips to his again, once more for good measure, to ensure he would keep his promise and not for any other reason, of course, and then promptly spun around on your heel, exiting the parlor.

There were many questions you wanted to ask Jude. He would just have to stay alive and healthy until he could answer all of them.

[50calmadeuce]

Ch. 36: Another Deployment

Warning: Mention of miscarriage. Some chapters have sex.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know. :)

Jake held your left hand as the two of you slowly walked towards his family from the rental car. He carried his travel bag in his right hand.

"I'll be back," he said reassuringly.

You tucked a piece of hair behind your left ear as the wind blew. "I know, Jake. I've never had any doubt in that."

Jake squeezed your hand gently, a warm smile on his face. "That means everything to me, Y/N."

His family spotted you both and came over, their faces a mix of joy and a touch of sadness. Cindy was the first to reach you, wrapping you in a warm hug. "We'll take good care of you while he's gone," she whispered, her voice full of reassurance.

Jake's sisters followed suit, each giving you a hug and words of encouragement. "You just call us if you need anything, okay?" one of them said, her eyes full of determination.

Jake looked at his family, grateful for their support, and then a playful grin spread across his face. "I'm glad my wife will still be taken care of when I leave, but remember, I'm the one who's actually leaving," he said teasingly.

Jake's family laughed, and Cindy playfully swatted his arm. "Oh, we know, Jake. But you'll be in good hands too. We've got a care package ready for you."

Jake chuckled. "I appreciate that, Mom."

You stood back, watching the interaction with a smile. Jake's family had always been welcoming and supportive, and it was comforting to know they were there for you.

Jake's dad stepped forward, clapping Jake on the shoulder. "You stay safe out there, son. We’ll be here holding down the fort."

Jake nodded, his expression turning serious. "I will, Dad. Thanks for everything."

Max also stepped up to Jake and put out his hand. "She'll be in great hands."

Jake reached for his hand and then pulled Max in for a brotherly like hug. "I know."

As the time for departure grew closer, the family stepped away for you and Jake to get your last few minutes and Jake turned to you, pulling you into a tight embrace, your foreheads touching. "I love you, Y/N. I'll call as soon as I can."

You tried not to cry, but the pregnancy hormones got to you first as a single tear started to slowly form and slide down a cheek.

Jake grinned playfully. "Why Y/N Seresin, are you crying?" he asked with a teasing lilt in his voice. "My strong and independent wife is crying," he responded as he gently reached up with his thumb and wiped the tear away.

You half cried and half laughed. "Not funny, Jake Seresin."

"It is just a little bit," he said, gently pulling your face closer. As the two of you kissed, the tears really started to flow.

When you parted, Jake got down on one knee and placed his hands on your belly. "You take really good care of momma while I'm gone. You're a Seresin. We all stick together." He gently kissed your stomach and then slowly rose back up. "I love you, Y/N Seresin. Don't you forget that."

You smiled. "Never and the feeling is mutual."

He started towards the building, and just before reaching the door, he looked back for one final glance at you. Once again, he sent you a kiss through the air. Playing along, you mimed catching it and pressed it to your lips, then sent one back to him. He mimicked catching it, placing it tenderly on his lips. With a heavy heart, you watched him turn away and disappear into the building, the door sealing shut behind him.

The tears started to flow heavily now and you were really hating these hormones.

"Oh, Y/N. Come here, sweetie," Cindy said as she walked up to you. You turned towards her, burying your face into her shoulder and letting it all out.

An hour later, you and Max walked through the doors of Jake's apartment.

"Wow. I give you credit. I couldn't do that," Max said. "Especially after four years of nothing."

"Trust me, Max. It's not easy, but Jake and I have had to rebuild a solid relationship in a really short time."

He nodded. "Yeah. I saw that. My question is, how?"

Your phone dinged, and you looked at it. It was a text from Phoenix asking about Max, and you giggled as you glanced at him. "Maybe someday you'll find out for yourself what it's like to date an independent yet strong woman. I think Phoenix really has the hots for you."

Max, whom you've known for a while now, started to blush.

"Are you blushing?" you teased.

"No!" he denied, looking away.

You laughed, enjoying seeing Max flustered. "Come on, it's obvious you like her too."

Max rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. "She's… she's great. But I'm not sure she sees me that way."

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh, trust me, she does. That text was asking about you, after all."

Max sighed, trying to hide his smile. "Alright, alright. Maybe I'll talk to her."

"Good," you said, giving him a playful nudge. "You deserve to be happy, Max."

He smiled, finally meeting your eyes. "Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate that."

You looked around the apartment, thinking about the journey you and Jake had been on. "As for rebuilding a relationship… it takes time, patience, and a lot of communication. We both had to be honest about our mistakes and our feelings. Even that was a challenge. It's not easy, but it's worth it."

Max nodded thoughtfully. "I'll keep that in mind. You and Jake are a great example of what love and dedication can do."

You smiled, touched by his words. "Thanks. Now, let's get this place in order before we fly out to Wyoming," you said with a sigh.

"What about all the stuff from the baby shower?"

"Oh, Penny is taking care of that. I told her to send it and let me know how much it was and I would reimburse her. Chuck is aware of it's arrival." You turned and looked at him. "I found a small cabin to rent while we're there."

"Let me know half and I'll have it reimbursed for work," he replied.

"Will do," you responded as you sighed again and looked around the apartment. "I'll start in the bedroom. Did you just want to order take out since our flight leaves early in the morning?"

"Do you do this every time Jake leaves?" Max asked.

"Do what?"

"Clean his apartment."

"This is only the second time I've done it. Thankfully he doesn't have much here."

Max nodded. "Makes sense and yes. Take out is fine."

Later that night, you and Max sat at the small table in Jake's apartment eating Chinese food.

Max took a sip from his cup of tea and looked across the table at you. "You know, Y/N, I have to say, you’re handling all of this really well."

You smiled, pushing some rice around on your plate. "Thank you, Max. It’s been a lot, but I’ve got good people around me. Plus, it’s not the first time I've had to manage on my own."

Max nodded, understanding. "Still, it’s not easy. But you’re strong. I’ve always admired that about you."

You felt a warmth from his words. "I couldn’t do it without everyone’s support. And knowing Jake is out there doing what he loves makes it a bit easier."

Max’s eyes softened. "He’s a lucky guy. And you’re going to be a fantastic mom. I have no doubt about it."

You laughed softly. "I hope so. I guess we’ll find out soon enough."

"Are you scared?" he asked, suddenly serious.

You looked up at him, your eyes reflecting a mix of vulnerability and determination. "Yeah. I mean, I have so many questions about myself. Will I make the best decisions? Will I be able to handle everything? It’s a lot to take on, and sometimes I wonder if I’m ready for it all."

Max laughed. "This coming from a large animal veterinarian."

You mixed your food on your plate. "A baby isn't a large animal, Max."

Max chuckled, shaking his head. "True. But you’ve dealt with a lot of challenges with those large animals, and I’m sure you’ll handle this one just as well."

You smiled, appreciating his encouragement. "I guess it’s all about adapting and learning as you go, right?"

"Exactly," Max agreed, leaning back in his chair. "And I'm sure Jake's family will be there to help."

You laughed, a big smile on your face. "That is true."

As you both enjoyed your meal, the conversation shifted to lighter topics, with Max recounting amusing stories from his travels and you sharing updates about life back home. The comfort of having a friend by your side made the evening feel warmer and more manageable.

Tags: @buckysteveloki-me @bellyliveslife @tgmreader @callsign-barbell @86laura11 @dizzybee03 @kmc1989 @guacam011y @nerdgirljen @hookslove1592 @dempy @djs8891 @smoothdogsgirl

[buddiebeginz]

Heads up Buddie fandom some of the B*mmy stans are actively searching for our posts and tweets to leave harassing comments. When this happens the best thing you can do is block them. They’re looking for attention and they're trying to rile us up and mostly they're worried about their ship. If they weren’t they wouldn’t care this much that we don’t like their ship or what our opinions are. Think about how little we’re going to give a sh*t about them once Buddie is canon. They know their ship is on borrowed time, if Lou even comes back at all. The main reason they’re attacking us is because we represent the biggest threat to their ship and that’s Eddie and Buddie.

Don’t let whatever bs they try to throw at you upset you or make you doubt the fact that Buddie is happening. They can call us delusional as much as they want but they are seeing a version of a relationship that just doesn’t exist. They can try to say the same about us but we have 6 going on 7 years of development between Buck and Eddie. And while Buddie's relationship hasn't canonically moved into the realm of romantic yet they are definitely written has having a much deeper bond than just best friends. This is especially true when you compare them to Hen/Chim or Maddie/Josh or Athena/Hen, etc. None of those friendships behave the way Buddie ever has.

When I say B/T shippers are only seeing what they want to see it's because they have built that relationship up to be something way more serious than it is without any proof to back that up. Buck is literally only dating T*mmy they're not even in a committed relationship at this point and that was only reconfirmed more by that deleted scene. There is a part of them that has to look at everything that happened in s7, that deleted scene (which they originally thought was going to be Henren's seal of approval for the rs), Lou's radio silence and the SWAT rumours and they have to be worried. They might try to put on this front of certainty that their ship is endgame but it's clear from how defensive they get that they know it doesn't look good for their ship.

We honestly need to just ignore that part of fandom and keep spreading the love for Buddie. B*mmy fandom is simply a loud minority and there's no reason that fandom should be getting as much attention on social media as it sometimes does. We need to keep showing that there is still a huge active fan base for Buddie.

I know that since season 7 ended without any serious development for Buddie and Buck still with T*mmy a lot of you are worried Buddie might never happen and I get that. I was ready to give up on the show all together after season 6 but I'm telling you I've never been more certain than I am now that Buddie is happening. It's the most logical direction for these characters and it's where everything is telling us the story is going.

Remember that s7 was heavily focused on Bathena, Henren, and Buddie. For as much as B*mmy's act like their ship is so important (even constantly comparing it to the other main couples) that relationship has had very little development and screen time and even less pr. Which you'd think given how big Buck's coming out was they would have had tons but they didn't. They only even did one joint interview with Oliver and Lou and that was right at the end and they barely even talked about B/T. Meanwhile Ryan and Oliver did a bunch of interviews together and nearly every interview and article mentioned Buddie.

We need to stop looking at B/T as a threat to our ship because it's really not. I hate Buck in that relationship and I don't like T*mmy at all and the worst part has been the fans of that ship but T*mmy is only here to serve a purpose. He was there to be Buck's first male love interest and help Buck realize he could explore that part of himself. He's not here to be the great love of Buck's life. To be the person who gets Buck better than anyone else. That position has already been filled.

[nastylittleghouls]

Nepenthe(s)

Relationship(s): Aether/Dewdrop, Mountain/Dewdrop

Rating: Teen

Words: about 2.1k  

Summary: Lucifer is more benevolent to his children than God. Dewdrop has always been a firm believer in that. That doesn‘t make existing without his mate any easier.

Warnings: Major Character Death, grief, mentioned Drug use, religious lore, unhealthy coping mechanisms, weed-induced weirdness about pre, implied disordered eating, unintentionally funny metaphors

Notes: Special thanks to @askingforthesun for allowing me to borrow elements of their fic (also MCD, be warned, but so good. Go read! ) and general lore so I could release this little thing into the wild. Hopefully, you won’t regret letting me into your sandbox. 😉 I recommend listening to the song I used as an intro during the second half of this fic (It'll be linked there) Unbeta‘ed as usual.

AO3 link for the so-inclined

You taught me the courage of stars before you left How light carries on endlessly, even after death With shortness of breath You explained the infinite And how rare and beautiful it is to even exist I couldn't help but ask for you to say it all again I tried to write it down, but I could never find a pen I'd give anything to hear you say it one more time That the universe was made just to be seen by my eyes - Saturn- Sleeping at last (or, Dewdrop reminiscing about Aether)

Plants behaving badly: murder and mayhem is playing on the TV. The still ongoing consequence of a shared joint, Mountain lamenting the lack of variety in his collection of carnivorous plants, and a turned too serious debate about which ghoul is the most alike to any of the aforementioned plants. Mountain can‘t let shit like this go. He has to be right and he’ll present proof. 

Therefore, sometimes things that happen in the greenhouse don’t stay in the greenhouse. They occupy the common room in the ghoul wing. 

Mountain has their enormous pack blanket wrapped around them both, Dew‘s head resting partly in his armpit and halfway on a pec, his legs across Mountain‘s thighs. Mountain’s hand is absentmindedly rubbing over a weirdly raised stitch on Dew‘s knee. Courtesy of Dew taking care of rubbed-through fabric himself.  It’s actually kind of nice to feel the thread pressing into his skin. 

Dew’s only half listening to Mountain explaining why this is his favorite documentary about carnivorous plants and how it‘ll show Dew why he‘s right.  His attention is a mess on a good day. If he's not holding his guitar or praying, his memory is even worse. Now the weed does the rest to scatter his mind all over the place. 

Mountain squeezes Dew a little too hard when the sundew finally makes an appearance. It’s uncomfortable. Even so, it helps Dew to fully focus on the right now. „See? That’s you!“

Dew narrows his eyes at the screen. He still doesn’t see his point. „And I repeat, the fuck? How?“

„With your pre. It‘s like, extra thick. Little pearls all over the red tip of your dick when you get all needy. Smells and tastes delicious. It’s a ghoul mouth trap“, Mountain emphasizes with a gesture at the screen, a dopey weed-induced grin on his face, barely managing to duck his head away when Dew half-heartedly swats at him. 

„You‘re a fly then, the way you always buzz around me despite the threat of certain death, begging for a taste.“ 

A faint blush appears on Mountain‘s cheeks and his eyes drop down between Dew‘s thighs, licking his lips. Intention clear. His nostrils flare to see if he can catch that sweet scent. If Dew‘s in the mood to indulge him. 

There is- nothing.  Not a hint of arousal.   Not even Dew’s natural smokey aroma. Yet, he’s not disappointed. The fact that Dew is here with him, willingly allows himself some mundane enjoyment, already feels like so much. 

Even more so when Mountain thinks about how often Rain had gone to the cathedral to check on him throughout the last months, how Mountain had found him earlier, sleeping surprisingly peacefully in the pew after missing yet another meal. His prayer beads wrapped so tightly around his hand that the indents were still faintly shimmering on his skin now. And Mountain had had enough. He had scooped him up and carried him into the greenhouse where this whole thing had started and now; it almost feels like a usual night before their world had been tipped upside down again. Almost. 

It’s a silver lining. 

„If anything, I‘m a bee. I only go for the tasty shit and sleep with the prettiest of flowers“, he counters, so confidently with his flat chest puffing out and everything, it‘s making Dew snort. That‘s truly his earth ghoul right here.  

“I can’t tell if you’re calling me pretty or just want to fuck your plants”, Dew teases with feigned thoughtfulness, flicking his fingers against the space between Mountain‘s eyebrows. It earns him a light pinch in the thigh and a mumbled: “fuck you”.

When the earth ghoul looks up again, he expects another snarky come back but Dew sends him a look that is not quite regretful but close to it. Dew’s hand moves up to pet Mountain’s hair, using it to pull him down to peck his lips. 

„Not tonight.'' 

Those words should sound like a raincheck. What Mountain hears is an apology when there shouldn’t be one. His love for Dew is not tied to conditions like Dew sharing his body with him. Now less than ever.  He wishes he had the means to let Dew know somehow without making a big deal out of it, for the fire ghouls sake, when he feels a small red rose bloom at the bottom of his horn, coming to his aid. He nods and leans in for another peck. Turns it into a proper kiss because he can and Dew lets him.  

„Another time,“ he agrees and plucks the rose with a small wince, tucking it safely behind Dew‘s ear, “my pretty flower”. 

The gesture makes Dew frown up at Mountain, and for a split second, it seems like the next swatting is imminent. Mountain would endure that and more. What matters is that Dew knows he is loved. But it doesn’t happen. Dew just settles into his side again with a huff. 

Then the narrator moves on to another plant and the moment is over. „That Butterwort is Cumulus,“ Mountain states, in a tone that indicates he expects Dew to disagree again. Instead, Dew nods, agreeably, and even adds, „Aurora too.“

As soon as the credits roll, Dew untangles himself from Mountain’s arm and the blanket and slips to his feet, brushing his lips affectionately over the earth ghoul’s hairline and the base of his horns. His smile is weary when their eyes meet again.  

„Gonna hit the hay. Night, Evergreen“.

Mountain gives him a bewildered look but eagerly meets him halfway just the same when Dew moves in for a hug. It has Mountain holding him tighter than he probably should, his face tucked into Dew’s neck. He just missed this more than he had let himself think about and it feels too soon to lose it again. 

“Night, Lilypad. Don‘t let the bed bugs bite.”

He watches Dew walk out of the common room until he‘s out of the door and almost swallowed by the shadows in the hallway, his mind still mulling Dew’s words over. No one has called him Evergreen since….

Clarity hits him like a well-aimed sobering punch in the gut. The almost overwhelming feeling of nausea follows suit. It‘s here. The moment he dreaded, they all dreaded, may happen. In hindsight, the signs were blatant.  Dew not even trying to bargain with him about leaving the cathedral, the overly sudden surge in willingness to be social for such a long period of time when Dew had been shying away from it. All that combined with the missing natural scent, the most obvious one of them all, is unmistakable. A sure sign that fire ghouls are on the verge of leaving the physical plane of existence. 

All right in front of him. The very last one left from his old pack. Eventually, he will accept it as the honor that it is. Right now, he‘s reeling. 

He gives himself a mental shove and manages to call an „I love you. Sleep well“ after Dew just before he’s out of his sight.

Then his eyes turn back to the screen. Stares at it until his vision blurs. Stricken. Chest so tight he can barely breathe. His claws pierce through the thick fabric of his self-assigned greenhouse overall he hasn’t bothered to change out of yet. It takes all of his willpower to keep himself sitting on the couch right there, to not let his selfishness win to try to stop the inevitable. It’s not his right to interfere, if he even could, as painful as it is. As it will be, for a long time.

So he just sits there, helpless in his decision. 

A weeping willow. 

Dew ghosts through the corridors of the ministry, on a whim taking the long route to pass through the Ghouls' living quarters. The urge to hear their voices before he retreats to his hideaway is stronger than usual tonight. To lock another piece of each and every one of them once more into the respective places in his heart. 

There’s a thud behind one of the closed doors, followed by Swiss’ cackling. Aeon and Aurora complain about being bullied. That exasperated yet fond sigh? Cirrus. 

Rain‘s room is quiet except for the sound of running water. It draws Dew in so he pauses, lays both palms on the wooden door, and listens for a breath, maybe two. Sends a wave of affection Rain’s way before continuing his path. 

He can still hear Sunshine’s laughter, after their caused chaos went either according to plan or wonderfully wrong, when he passes her abandoned room, as faded in his memories as it is. He gives her door a little salute, not trusting himself to linger there. Knows that Cumulus finds solace in sitting in there for a while during this hour, singing to her lost ray of light. 

Treasures, all of them. 

He takes all of them up the stone stairs into the attic with him, the soles of his shoes scruffing over the sandy surface as he recites another prayer under his breath. As if to absolve himself for his absence in the pews. The beads around his neck feel heavier with each word, making him briefly consider turning around and visiting the cathedral for a second time today but he has to admit to himself that he wouldn’t be able to get far tonight. It’s late and the call of the stars promises a little more comfort.

Rain would be thrilled at that amount of self-reflection. 

The old oil lamp he grabbed on the way flickers as he lights up an incense stick with a press of his fingerpads, setting both up on the floor in front of him. 

After, he settles comfortably into Aether‘s old armchair, right in front of the window. Hidden amongst Aether’s other belongings that he couldn’t squirrel away into his own room, the stars in the night sky welcoming him back through the glass. One brighter than the others, brighter than Sirius he likes to think, his very own guiding light. 

Watching over him. Waiting for him. 

As he recounts the constellations to himself in soothing murmurs, he traces the scar on his palm, swallowing heavily when he reaches the end before lacing his fingers together. A sad imitation of what used to be Aether’s hand engulfing his. His mind shifts to the moments he had been curled in Aether‘s lap in this very chair and played idly with his hands. Twisting his rings up and down his fingers. Tickling his palm. Relishing in their size difference, their thrumming bond, and Aether’s pleased chuffs. At times, simply lost in sharing their respective tribes’ folklore, awed at each other's way with words. At others, well…

He needs it more than ever now. That certain kind of warmth. That fullness, first and foremost in his heart. 

He yearns for it with every fiber of his infernal being. 

To be home.

Dew sinks further into the chair and a forgotten sense of calm washes over him. No longer is that sob stuck behind his sternum that burned as hot as the unshed tears in his eyes. No longer does he feel the urge to fight it when his eyes fall shut on their own accord. Slowly. Unhurried.

The strange coldness, coming from deep down inside him and radiating through his bones like an ache, starts to dissolve. Imperceptible, his charred skin lightens and his scarred gills heal from the fire damage.  A gift of appreciation by the Prince for his unwavering devotion. Not only to the seven but to his mate as well. 

Unbidden, he remembers the last time Aether prepared morning soup for him, is sure he can taste the perfection on the back of his tongue, and for once it doesn’t twist his insides into knots. 

He is too tired. So very tired and giving in feels so right like nothing has for too long. 

His star in the sky flares up fleetingly, and Dewdrop smiles softly to himself, the first real smile in what seems like an eternity, when he feels familiar, weightless hands rest lovingly on his shoulders. His head tilts instinctively towards the touch, dipping slightly into the sun-faded brocade of the chair cushion beside him. The merest hint of Aether‘s scent, and the salt of tears still lingering in the fabric, fill his nose. 

His prayers are granted at last.

Above the stars, below the flames; finally reunited. 

The affirmation of love Dew hasn‘t uttered out loud since, leaves him with a long, blissful sigh. 

„I belong to you, my starlight“

Akin to a kiss, barely there, floats a caress over Dew’s lips, making good on a promise. 

“Oh, my Firefly….I adore you”

With his mate’s awaited response, Dew’s chest falls peacefully for the last time. The last glowing ember turns gray. His soul follows Aether’s into the night.

Home. 

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hey I see you do overlord Can I request of Ainz having a twin sister and her in-game character is a Human mage who has similar personality and abilities to Marisa kirisame (from Touhou project) she does not join ainz's guild instead she join a different guild but she visits ainz's guild often(and maybe steals a thing or two) and irl she acts like her in-game character and gets isekai with her brother. Go to the touhou wiki if you want to know more about Marisa kirisame~Fujiwara no Anon

Marisa Kirisame Fem! Reader | Yandere Overlord 

Your the bratty and meddlesome sister Supreme Being that Nazarick lovingly shakes their fist at

And when you and your twin are transported into this new world with only Ainz’s guild’s base

When you pop into the world on your broom 

Nazarick of course practically swats you off as they are focused on completing the tasks that Ainz has set them on

“So…its just us..?”

“Yeah.”

“...Well it wouldn’t be the first time…”

“Yeah…but at least we have each other!”

“Yup…well that is until I decide to comb this world for the coolest artifacts!” 

“yEaH?”

Before he and his friends hadn’t minded 

You offered plenty of fun with your antics 

But now that he has no one from his guild in this world

He feels more than ever that he needs you at his side more than ever

And the entirety of Nazarick is more than obliged to obey 

“Whoa! What a steal! this artifact is so–Demiurge? Are you holding a magic net?”

“...Ah (Y/n)-sama you caught me, how about instead you come inside for some tea?”

Even as you easily blend in with the humans of this world

There is a constant effort to chain bring you to Nazarick

And Ainz is all for it

“S-sorry (Y/n)-sama! Wind turbine!”

“Hahaha were you meaning to catch me? Nice try Mare but I got your ring~!���

“W-what?! Oh?! Oh no!?”

“Hahaha, I’ll just borrow it until next time.”

But you still visit your dear brother

After all, he is your twin 

You just have to watch out for the latest artifact that has you bound to him

[satashiiwrites]

Family, Familia, ‘Ohana: Chapter 10: FUBAR

Yeeting! Finally!

Title: Family, Familia, ‘Ohana: Chapter 10: FUBAR

Fandom: 911, H50, SWAT

Pairings: Buddie, McDanno, platonic Deacon/Hondo

Fic summary:

When one family seems lost another comes back from the past. But does Buck want to return to the past or live in the present? And does his present lead to a future he wants? Only he can answer these questions but Steve at least will be there to support him.

Chapter Summary:

Buck learns what arrangements Eddie’s made for Christopher after being informed he’s missing. The 5-0 task force reaches out to LA and the search is on. Meanwhile, Eddie finds himself far from home and makes a new friend.

Tags/warnings: content warning for panic attack this chapter. Navyseal!Buck, angst all the angst!, eddie is kidnapped! Timeline what timeline, possibly unreliable narrators, oblivious boys, alternative universe, 911 post lawsuit-era.

Read chapter here on AO3

[imwintr]

cold

pairing | corky x reader

prompt | “it’s a camping trip, and one character’s forgotten their sleeping bag” by scealaiscoite wc 1406.

Deciding to join the vandals on their Dayton run picnic was a last minute decision. Having never spent a substantial amount of time with any of them other than seeing a couple of them over your neighbor Kathy’s home in passing, it would be fair to say that you were skeptical about attending. Though Kathy’s husband Benny seemed friendly enough, no amount of friendliness would be enough to convince you that hanging out with a motorcycle club that had been recently accused of arson was a good idea. 

The only reason you even initially even considered the idea was because although you and Kathy had been neighbors for well over a few years, you hadn’t become friends until recently when she stopped by asking to borrow some sugar. She confided in you about Benny’s injuries and the whole Lakeside ordeal, so you decided to attend on behalf of her “moral support”. It wasn’t like you had much of anything else to do in the coming days regardless, having already taken several days off from work. 

Since you weren’t staying for the entire duration of the run–and obviously didn’t own a motorcycle–you settled on staying for two nights before heading back on the road. Already not being the biggest fan of camping in general, you attempted to shove down the ensuing dread that was bubbling in your stomach to no avail. That feeling only intensified when you actually arrived on the grounds and saw the copious amount of people that were already there. 

Thankfully, it didn’t take you long to locate Kathy, who quickly introduced you to some of the other wives and girlfriends who had rode in with their partners. She furthermore introduced you to the Vandals’ leader and founder Johnny Davis, who you were initially wary of because of what you learned beforehand, but meeting Betty made you believe he still had to have some decency left under all of that bravado. Afterwards, you started getting approached by some of the members themselves despite Kathy’s attempt to swat the majority of them away–especially one Vandal in particular.  

This wouldn’t actually be your first time meeting Corky, though all of your other interactions were in passing with only a few words spoken. He asked you to remind him of your name before taking a seat next to you, causing Kathy to roll her eyes before resuming her conversation with Gail. Knowing that a good bulk of the guys in the club were bums who had no foreseeable future other than risking their lives riding motorbikes, you could understand why she was trying to steer you away from getting involved with any of them (not to mention the present circumstances she was dealing with in her own marriage). 

“Enjoying yourself?” he questioned, pushing his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose from where they had begun to slide down. You had to admit it, you found him pretty attractive, although you would never admit that out loud, nor would you willingly allow yourself to develop any feelings for him. He was probably just humoring you or trying to be cordial since it was technically your first time at one of their events. Little did you know that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

“I guess so, is this what you guys call fun?” you attempted to joke, which he thankfully seemed to pick on and gave you a laugh in return. Someone else decided to sit down on the other end of the bench, causing him to scooch over to where your legs and arms were brushing up against each other. Surprising yourself, you didn’t immediately move away from the contact. That awful feeling of dread you initially held when you arrived was long gone, replaced with an odd giddiness that made it difficult to keep a smile off of your face or keep yourself from laughing at each dumb joke he made. 

Never having been the type to hastily fall in love or believe in something as ludicrous as love at first sight, this was entirely foreign to you–and made your current behavior borderline unrecognizable to anyone that knew you beforehand. It wasn’t like you were constantly irritable or anything of that nature, but it wasn’t uncommon to see you donning an unamused expression when someone attempted a romantic advance. If someone were to tell you a week ago that you would be practically cuddled up next to a member of the Vandals a week later, you would have asked if they were feeling alright. As the day went on, you spent the rest of your time witnessing some of the club members’ absurd antics and listening to the girls conversate about what was going on in their relationships. 

By nightfall, groups had begun to break out and settle around individual campfires before turning in to go to bed. It was only then when you noticed how cold it had gotten with the sun having gone down, leading you to venture out to your car to retrieve a blanket. Noticing your return, Corky gave you a teasing smile before he asked “Still enjoying yourself?”. Rolling your eyes, you took the seat he had saved you between Wahoo and himself, and nodded before pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. “Are you cold?” He questioned, his smile fading and his eyebrows raising in concern. 

“A little bit.” you admitted sheepishly, suddenly feeling foolish for not packing better and being more prepared for the weather. “But I’ll be alright–” you were cut off mid sentence when you felt him gently grab your elbow so your arms and legs were touching just like before. 

“Better?” 

“I guess.” responding with a shrug, you giggled when he rolled his eyes in response, mirroring your actions from earlier. Around a couple of hours later, you guess he had gotten tired because he eventually decided to lay down on the log and propped up his leg behind you. You did your best to ignore Kathy’s playfully judgemental stare but it was kind of challenging when you were practically sitting in between Corky’s legs (which are quite long by the way). 

By the time everyone had decided that they were turning in for bed, you had really begun regretting your decision to just sleep in your car instead of bringing sleeping bags like everyone else and sleeping closer to the campfire. You weren’t looking forward to the cold leather in the backseat of your car, especially after sitting next to a human body heater and a campfire for several hours. Once you bid Kathy goodnight, you began walking out past everyone rolling out their sleeping bags to your car that was about 30 feet away. Hearing someone softly call out your name, you whipped your head around to see a familiar face removing his sleeping bag from his bike. 

“Where you going?”

“I didn’t bring a sleeping bag so I’m just gonna sleep in my car.” Saying that out loud caused you to cringe internally. Why didn’t you just bring a sleeping bag to a camping trip? 

“You’re gonna freeze, just take mine.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t.” Apparently your back and forth was getting bothersome because someone from a nearby sleeping bag hissed for you to quiet down and go to sleep. 

“We can just share it.” He suggested before picking a spot to roll it out for the night. Despite not wanting to cause anymore of a commotion than you already had, you were still milling over whether or not to just share the sleeping bag with him or just head back to your car–but you made the decision to stay. If it was anyone else you would have been overwhelmed and anxious–but to your own bewilderment the man who was beckoning you to lay down next to him, whose legs were comically too long for the sleeping bag he owned–did no such thing. 

Squeezing in next to him you were immediately met with an arm snaking its way around your shoulder to pull you closer to him. Rolling onto his back he left the arm around your shoulder and placed the other one behind his head, leaving you enough room to rest your head on his chest. There was no nagging feeling deep inside telling you to get up and run away, instead–you felt oddly at peace. 

Maybe hanging out with the Vandals for a few days wouldn’t be so bad.

[vasyandii]

KruegerNak FIC- PLUMERIA

Synopsis: Nak tries a cigarette, talks before a mission.

Warnings: Mentioning of Drugs, Smoking, Violence, Murder

Word Count: 1,000+

Type: Casual, dialogue heavy

Characters: Sebastian Krueger, Phayvanh "Nak" Sotsvahn

Creator Notes: This is actually the most I've ever written in my life xD have fun

Sop Ruak; Chiang Saen, Thailand. It’s the heart of The Golden Triangle; Laos was just across from where they stood. Nausea rarely gripped her, but being here was too close for comfort. The Mekong River was the only thing separating her from what she had two years ago.

It felt familiar, almost nostalgic—if she could even call it that.

She's never been fond of Counter Narcotics Operations; interdictions specifically. Nikolai proposed that Phayvanh's first hand experience with this area would be useful during their time in the East. The setup, at least for larger trafficking operations, was always the same; outdoor labs, “product” stored in barrels or polypropylene woven sacks.

Maybe her feelings are more akin to regret.

“Light.” Sebastian requests, leaning against the guard rails overlooking the Mekong, an unlit tip of a cigarette dangling from his lips. That snapped her out of her introspection.

She pats her pockets, nothing. Fuck, was it like her to be so forgetful?

“Don't got one.”

“Right.” He murmurs, retrieving his own to light for himself.

“Why even ask?” Phayvanh squints, scowling.

A smirk plays across his lips, tendrils of smoke spiraling from them, “I like it when you light them for me.”

That son of a bitch.

“Drop dead.” She mutters, not wanting to look at him after his ridiculous confession.

That got a chuckle out of Sebastian before a silence settled in. It felt uncomfortable, something she’s not used to feeling with him. Maybe it's just her.

It wasn't like she could ignore and forget where she was even for a moment– the humidity in the air, the smell of leaves that were too sickeningly sweet– it's all overwhelming. Not to mention that damn sight in front of them. Maybe that's why he smokes? It Feels like she could break out in hives or have her hair turn gray.

“May I?” She holds out her hand.

Sebastian gives her a skeptical look, cigarette perched comfortably between his fingers. “Thought you didn't do shit like this.”

“You're going to die sooner because of it, might as well catch up.” Phayvanh utters, waving a dismissive hand.

“Fair.” He hands her what remains of his cigarette.

Her fingers awkwardly held it up; more familiar with handing them out than holding one. Phayvanh tentatively brought the borrowed cigarette to her lips. As she inhaled, a harsh burn seared her throat, and a sudden fit of coughing overtook her. The acrid taste lingered, catching her off guard.

“You're supposed to inhale, you know.” Sebastian watches with amusement.

She couldn't help but shoot him an exasperated glare between coughs; a miserable attempt of recovery as the acrid sting from the back of her throat shoots back out.

“So much for trying to catch up with me, huh, Schatzi?” He teased, retrieving what remained from the cigarette , Sebastian expertly drew another lungful before tossing it somewhere on the ground.

"So much for that" She grumbles, finally being able to speak properly.

Krueger smirks, nudging her shoulder with his.

“Want to try that again?” He goads, giving the end of her ponytail a light tug.

Phayvanh swats his hand away “Not really. I thought it'd have more..you know.”

"Tastes like shit and kills you slowly, Phay." He shrugs. "It doesn't offer much in the realm of comfort or relief.”

"I want it to." She sighs, overlooking the Mekong."I feel like I'm back to where I started again.”

A silence settles between them, only the hum of insects and faint splashing of water. "This place isn't Laos," Sebastian says finally after what felt like an eternity.

"But that place is." Phayvanh's eyes direct him to look the strip of land across the river. “And we have to go back there.”

Sebastian follows her gaze. "Are you up for it?" He doesn’t add anything, just leaves the question to hang there in the space between them

The words seem to not want to come out. Phayvanh makes a vague gesture with her hands, hoping he gets what she's trying to say.

"Wow, you should become a spokesperson. Really got me raring to go." he says with a dry grin.

“Don’t be a dick.” She complains, wanting to sulk a little longer.

"Too late for that," Sebastian retorts,the smirk on his face tightens; he gazes at Phayvanh as if he's challenging her to toss another insult.

“I don’t know where I stand in this anymore,” she vents out.

“Bullshit.” Krueger cuts through any potential excuse or argument Nak could throw up against him. “Right now is not the time for a fucking existential crisis."

His curt tone stings worse than when she had taken a puff from earlier -

“What if he's there?” She gives him an incredulous expression- just what right does he have giving life lectures?

Sebastian's gaze sharpens. He doesn't need to ask who she is referring to - he knows.

The snake of the Laotian underworld, mingled with blood and fear.

“He’d kill me.”

“Not if I’m there.” Sebastian chuckles

"He’d kill you first."

"Then we kill him," he replies, as if they were discussing the weather instead of plotting murder.

“..What?” She takes a step back.

Phayvanh had to do a double take at Sebastian's words. Kill him? She was lucky enough Kapano didn't send anyone after her the first time she tried.

"We kill Vang." he repeated,

"No." She lets out a small laugh of disbelief, it eased her more than she liked to admit "Is the heat getting to your head? There's no guarantee we'll even run into him.”

"No guarantee, no," Sebastian concedes with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. He then leans in to look at her directly.

"But you and I both know this world isn't kind enough for sweet coincidences." His voice lowered into a whisper "This is your chance Nak-- One bullet- just one can send him straight back to the sty he slithered out from”

"What, so we go out of our way to find him? I can't do that Sebastian." Phayvanh reasoned, crossing her arms.

"That bastard has had a chokehold on your neck since you were old enough to walk,” Sebastian retorts, he knows he's not wrong “It's deserved.”

She wasn't stupid. Naga would cut off the hand she used to stab him with. Then he would use it to do the same thing she did to him years ago; he'd get away with it as well.

“It's not about that, I could lose my job. Isn't this against protocol?" She reminds “He's not a target.”

"No one's going to care if that bastard drops dead, Phay." He urged her

It was clear she considered it for a second.

"I'll take care of it- You just have to be there with me. Like always.”

“You wouldn't.”

"You underestimate me." Sebastian scoffs. "I’d have his head put on a tray for you, Phayvanh.”

[quibblet21]

My Headcanons for BLU Sniper

There are many fans who have headcanons for the TF2 team and many are quite interesting to the point that I adopted some of them. The one I mainly (attempt to) write about is the BLU Sniper and his fellow teammates, since he's the main character in two fanfics I churned up ("Bubo" and "Dichotomy").

So, this is just from my point of view. Anyone who finds these ideas dumb or absurd, oh well, can't please everybody :)

NOTE: This is a long bullet list, so read at your own discretion and only if you have more time to spare.

Like with the rest of BLU Team, he's a clone, supposedly created by TF Industries. In reality, aliens did the work and supplied the clones to the human scientists.

Since the clones don't have given names, he calls himself Cyril.

Unlike RED Sniper, who's far-sighted, he's near-sighted and so his aviators also double as prescription glasses. Not good if they get shot out during a match. The only plausible explanation I could come up with is TF Industries or Mann Co. found a doctor who customizes glasses to resemble the real thing.

Although he has the RED Sniper's warfare abilities due to retaining learned memory through cloning, he's still not as highly skilled as his enemy. He keeps practicing though.

He's a bit more social and curious about asking people things, not making him quite an introvert or a loner per se. He has some friends outside the team, though he's very careful about disclosing to them what he does for a living.

He views the BLU Team as his family; they're the only ones he's ever known living and training with them at TF Industries' R&D branch during their extremely short "youth" phases.

He prefers his living quarters at the base.

He has a camper van, but it was given to him by TF Industries; they assumed that he would make use of it like RED Sniper does with his van. Not having any interest in mobile living, BLU Sniper simply uses it as a transportation vehicle. He does have to deal with Scout or Demoman asking multiple times if they can borrow it.

He has several of RED Sniper's preferences, mainly that he loves coffee and is not a happy person if he doesn't get it. He also doesn't mind wearing an Australian slouched hat.

He gets along with most of his teammates, with the exception of Soldier, who sometimes steals food off everyone's plates and Spy, who loves playing pranks on everyone.

Even though he's a clone, he doesn't possess the RED Sniper's uber hunting instincts or utilizing his own piss against enemies. So, you won't find him hunting rabbits or pheasants in the morning for breakfast. He also prefers a strong pressure washer-like weapon to blow back enemies (similar to Pyro's Airblast) or put out his teammates on fire.

He is considered more empathetic than his RED counterpart and more trusting, giving the chance he could sometimes be manipulated.

After the war, he'd consider a career in wildlife or for a more risky approach, a sniper on the SWAT team. He doesn't possess as much of a killer instinct enough for an assassin role, but still enough to be a dutiful soldier in battle.

Although he speaks with an Australian accent (a strange side-effect in the cloning process), he tends to use more American vernacular like 'my towel' instead of 'me towel' or 'Hey!' instead of 'Oi!'

He and BLU Team are actually Americans since they were born in the Badlands at TF Industries (or so that's the story they've been told).

He could easily imitate an American accent just for fun.

He has a close bond with an Spotted Owl named Bubo enough to the point it later becomes a psychic link.

He suffers from PTSD (Combat Stress Syndrome during the 1960s), based on real-life cases with veterans. It gets worse during the last year of the Gravel Wars.

He has erratic dreams of a strange symbol and ominous aliens.

He occasionally sleepwalks.

He's often a victim in his teammates' crazy antics when they're caught by police.

He often accuses Demoman's parrot of stealing his trail mix and candy in his bedroom.

Unlike RED Sniper, he doesn't like alligator or snake meat.

He doesn't keep pictures of his enemies to cross out.

He's not as cool-headed as RED Sniper and can get emotional about things, particularly if it concerns innocent people hurt or a dirty antic that RED used in a match.

He's often hunted more in the matches by the RED Sniper, as the latter has a strong predatory instinct to take out prey that's a mockery of him.

He later falls for Athene, another clone and younger version of The Administrator. This is a tribute to their married voice actors, John Patrick Lowrie and Ellen McClain.

As a clone, who was intentionally designed to last 10-12 years, he dies sometime around 1980. RED Sniper outlives him by several decades.

In terms of archtype, he's the Hero to RED Sniper's Anti-Hero.

He later becomes the de facto leader of other clones discovered and feels more of a kinship with them than to humans.

[averagebioweaponslover]

So mild trigger warning for vague descriptions of violence, disassociation and ptsd. There’s also some period typical avoiding of mental health issues/ toxic masculinity. A character becomes agitated while anxious. It’s nothing super serious but I felt the need to add. You should be fine unless you are super sensitive to these topics. This was a creative writing bit I came up with. Cmedics name is Quincy or Quinn. He’s also referred to as just medic as I find reading cmedic is a bit clunky in my brain. Cengineer is referred to as Fred and engineer for the same reasons.

Mod

Micro fic below the cut

The heat of battle was gone and the base was left cold and dark. The screams, gunshots and smells from the day would cling to Quinn far into the night, clawing its way into his skull and haunting his dreams. The faces of teammates turning to the faces of fallen soilders on gurneys, desert sand and limestone turning into mud caked trenches. Norman woke up with a loud gasp. He was at his desk, cold sweat causes the thin fabric of his scrubs to stick to his skin. He reached for the now luke warm mug of coffee that set next to the paper work. Someone was in the room with him but the doctor was too far in his own mind to notice. Instead their presence lingered in the back of his mind like the echos of the fallen soldiers cry’s for their mother. The coffee was bitter, cold and sour from being left abanonded during his nightmare. It reminded him of the taste of vomit that would come up every time he—

“You alright doc?”

A hand was placed on his shoulder. Immediately jolting him back to reality.

Quinn looks up to see framiliar face of Fred. He crinkles his nose and swats the other away. Tired grey eyes glaring up from the office chair. “I’m fine Fred. what do you want?”

“I was just wanting to see if I could borrow some alcohol for the workshop…” a fat second of silence follows. Quinn expected Fred to say more, he knew damn well he looked like shit and there was no way the other didn’t notice. Quinn stood up with a groan.

“Yeah yeah- fine. I have plenty in here- just don’t drink it okay?” Quinn walks over to one of the shelves in the room removing a bottle of medical grade rubbing alcohol from where it sat.

Fred only seemed amused at the prickly tone. “Don’t worry doc, it is just to clean - I’m not as stupid as I look.” His tone was jovial.

Medic was not impressed and he handed the bottle over with an eye roll. The Engineer holds the bottle in his hands for awhile but makes no motion to leave the infirmary. The battle medic feels his lip twitch in frustration and he crosses his arms. “You know, I could use a little help in my shop. If you have free time maybe you can stop by and lend me a hand“

The doctor knew damn well that Fred did not need his help. However something about the engineers tone caused bile to rise in his throat. Quinn knew he’s been an ass again and shakes his head. “I- I’m fine Fred, really I am. I’m sorry I’m Just.—“

Fred just nodded numbly. He never knew what to say to the doctor when he got like this. He just waved a a hand dismissing Quinn’s words. “don’t worry about explaining yourself doc. I know you’re just havin a hard time. Just know that my workshop is open if you want to take your mind off things.”

[sofasoap]

Forget me not.

Pairing: König x  f!Reader ( aka Mini MacTavish )

Summary: The bad news you never want to hear, and more. Takes place after Interlude two : Everyone deserves happiness.

Warning: Mature theme. TRIGGER WARNING: gun violence,blood and gore and death.  English isn’t my first language. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

A/N : Character of Mini MacTavish is from @saltofmercury fic “ “The Favorite MacTavish” ” which she graciously let me borrow and write bit more expanded universe. Please go read her wonderful story to get bit of background,

“masterlist” for more prequel to this Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

Staring at the screen, drumming your fingers on the desk. You can't seem to concentrate. You been typing the same sentence for the last thirty minute and making no progress at all. Decided to give up on doing your clinical reports, you dragged yourself into the staff room to make yourself a cup of tea. You been feeling very antsy all day, it's a bad sign. Everytime you feel very fidgety nothing good came out from it. Last time it was Johnny declared MIA , your poor Ma cried her heart out until him and Ghost was found a month later, alive but worse for wear.

Your thought gone back to the boys again. It has been seven weeks since they left for their mission. There had been zero contact from them, but you weren't surprised. There have been times they will be silent for weeks until just before they return home. But this time it's different. Senses are tingling. Mindlessly stirring your cup, you saw the HR manager walking by. Doing a double take when they saw you in the staff room, " Oh Mini, I was on my way to find you. Your emergency leave application has been approved." They informed you. You frowned. What leave? You weren't planning any holiday until Christmas. Your phone went off at the same time. Unknown number. You answered it after hesitating for a split second, " Hello MacTavish here." " ... Mini." The deep distinctive Manchester accent. "... Simon?" " Go home now, pack your bag. Soap will be waiting for you in one hour. Don't forget your passport." and he hung up immediately. " Wait wh... UGh". Sculling down your tea, you rush towards the locker room and grabbed your bag, not bothering to get changed you drove home as fast as you can. Throwing all the necessary stuff into the duffle bag, you send Emma a text explaining your haste departure, you heard a car pulling up in front of your flat. Seeing your brother's face , you hurryingly lock the door and throw your bag into the boot. Giving Johnny a quick kiss on the face, you bombard him with questions while he drive off towards the airport. "Johnny, what the hell is going on?, Is that a bruise on your face??? Ah Jesus did you get shot as well??!!" You reach out trying to touch him, he swat your hands away. " Ah I'm fine stop fussing. We going on next flight to Germany." He didn't elaborate further. " Who put my leaves in?" " Price managed to pull few strings. Your boss wasn't too overly impressed but a word from the high up shut them up pretty quick." You sunk back into the seat. You doubt you will get anymore answer out from him until reaching the destination. The rest of your trip was spent mostly in silence. You can see Johnny is trying to hide something. He is never good at holding secrets from you. Always can tell by his body language.

Gaz was there to pick you two up from the airport. He tries to make little chit chat with you during the car ride to... somewhere? This got you confused even more. Aren't the boys on a long term mission? " Where is Simon and Uncle Price?" "At the hospital." Soap interjected. " OH Gosh something happened to them?" " No they are fine. Don't you worry."

" Why isn't anyone telling me anything????" Gaz pulled into what looks like military hospital car park, everyone got off and he gave you a sympathetic look. As you walk further into the hospital wing, you starting to put two and two together. Johnny is here, Gaz is here, Simon and Price is fine... so that leaves... König. " Where is König?" Both Gaz and Soap stop on their track. They look at each other. Soap is getting agitated, he couldn't tell his sister the truth of this visit. He couldn't. He felt guilty. He felt responsible for what happened. " Mini... Look.." " MINI." As Gaz open his mouth to explain. Ghost appeared. You ran towards your adopted big brother and pull him into a tight hug. He return your hug and proceed to lead the group to one of the private ward, tucked away in the deepest part of the hospital. Putting his hand on the door knob, pausing for a moment, before opening it. You see Price sitting on the chair in the corner who gave you a wave as soon as he saw you, and you turn your attention to the person currently lying on the hospital bed, with all the tubes and machine attached. It's your big teddy bear, the love of your life. König. Your mind goes blank, body started to shake. Soap came up beside you and pull you in with one arm. " He's been in coma for about a week or so now. Doctor said he is in critical but stable condition. I am sorry Mini... It... It was my fault.. I should have been more aware .. " " Don't fully take the blame Johnny." Ghost sighed. " We weren't too sure what was going to happen." He patted your head. It's something he started doing lately to comfort you. " You shouldn't even be here really. Someone owed Price a huge favour, so we manage to get you here without problem." You glance at Price with gratitude. The boys left you alone with some privacy while four of them have left the hospital for military related business, but promise you one of them will take turn to stay with you during the time of your stay. You put your bag in the corner of the room, out of the way and pulled a chair in so you can sit closer to him. He look so pale. There are still some bruises on the side of his face where he took some sort of hit. Lifting your hand you run your fingers through his hair, gently down his face. Tears starting to drop. Leaning your head on his big hand, the gentle hand you love so much and cried yourself to sleep. The boys were true to their words, They take turn in shifts to stay with you. Gaz usually try to have little chit chat with you, Johnny and you usually bickers about stuff, Both you and Price sits there silently, him going through his mission files and reports, while you do some administration work on your laptop. Simon just sit there and read books. It's not until one morning about a week into your visit, Gaz has ducked out and grabbed some coffee for both of you, you notice his hand twitched a little, and he is stirred awake. Blinking his eyes few times, getting use to the bright light, he slowly turned his head. He sense your presence. His eyes met yours with a piercing look, you sense something wasn't quite right. There was no love, let alone recognition in his stare. You shrink back a little, feeling like a prey being assessed by its hunter. The next three words that came out from his mouth next made your heart shattered. " WHO are you."