#but my dreams were more fandom geared

[dickvinci]

i got into several arguments in my dreams last night.

[wholoveseggs]

Stains {Part One}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part One

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} One spilled coffee, one ruined suit, and one infuriating man you can’t seem to avoid...

♡♡ Uh oh I wrote another series! Inspired by the many requests I get for another enemies to lovers fic ~ This is essentially a highly caffeinated version of Misbehavior ~xoxo ♡♡

3.7k words - Warnings: slow burn, enemies-to-lovers, eventual smut (duh), Elijah being Elijah about his suits, reader with a sharp tongue and a penchant for swearing, so so so much antagonistic banter, class dynamics, Elijah being a control freak (it’s his kink) && the tragic loss of a cappuccino...

{Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Four}

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It was one of those mornings where everything felt hazy, like your body was running on autopilot while your brain lagged behind. You were going through the motions, getting ready for work, but it all felt distant.  

Finally, as you stood in line at the local café, you began to wake up fully. Glancing at your phone, you checked the time. You were cutting it close, but if you hurried, you could still make it.  

When it was your turn, you stepped up to the counter and ordered your usual. While waiting, you observed the morning rush: people in business suits, jeans, or workout gear shuffled in and out, the chaos oddly comforting. You tried to keep your irritation in check as a few impatient customers jostled their way ahead of you.  

At last, you grabbed your cappuccino and headed out the door, your eyes flicking to the clock on your phone again. Damn, you were going to be late.  

You picked up your pace, speed-walking down the sidewalk. Cursing under your breath, you glanced back down at your phone… just as you collided with someone.  

Hot liquid splashed everywhere, soaking through your shirt and bra. You hissed in pain, looking up to find the man you'd crashed into. His suit jacket and dress shirt were also drenched in coffee.  

He glared at you, his dark eyes murderous. He didn't say a word as he yanked off his jacket and attempted to blot at the stain, which only seemed to spread.  

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” you blurted, fumbling to pull out your wallet. “Here, let me pay for your dry cleaning. I’m really sorry.”  

You went to pull out some cash, but he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Dry cleaning? No. You will pay for a replacement," he said with cold disdain.  

His attitude pissed you off. He was just as much at fault as you were, yet he had this entitled, pretentious air about him that made your blood boil.  

“It’s just coffee. It’ll come out with the right cleaner,” you said, trying to keep the bite out of your voice.  

“It’s a custom-tailored vintage Italian wool suit. Do you have any idea how much it costs?” he asked, his jaw ticking as he glared at you.  

“Well, maybe you should pay more attention to where you’re walking if you’re going to parade around in such expensive clothes,” you snapped, your temper slipping.  

“Are you seriously standing there, telling me this is my fault?” he asked, his eyebrows rising in disbelief.  

“Yup. Because it is,” you shot back, crossing your arms as you met his icy gaze. “I’m not about to buy you a thousand-dollar suit when dry cleaning can fix it.”  

“A thousand?” he repeated, laughing, and to your surprise, the sound was annoyingly pleasant. “This is a Brioni, not some off-the-rack garbage from Nordstrom. And I expect full payment. Interest included.”  

“Oh, fuck off,” you snapped, throwing up your hands in frustration. Turning on your heel, you stomped away, your blood still boiling.  

You had no idea what a Brioni was, and frankly, you didn’t care. He wasn’t going to bully you into paying for a ridiculously overpriced suit. You couldn’t even afford the cheap ones. And besides, what was he going to do? He didn’t even know who you were.  

You didn’t hear his footsteps behind you, but suddenly, he was in front of you, blocking your path.  

“I’m not done talking to you,” he said, his tone cutting through the air like ice.  

“Yeah, well, I’m done talking to you. Get the hell out of my way,” you snapped, trying to sidestep him.  

His hand shot out, grabbing your arm and holding you in place. You were about to slap him when his free hand darted into your pocket, pulling out your wallet.  

“Hey! What the fuck?” you yelled, trying to snatch it back.  

Ignoring you, he opened it and rifled through your cards and cash with infuriating calmness. He pulled out your driver’s license, glancing at it, and you could have sworn he smirked.  

“So, Miss L/N, I’ll be in touch. And perhaps you should pay attention to where you’re walking. You never know who you might bump into,” he said, his voice full of smug amusement as he slipped your wallet back into your pocket.  

Before you could respond, he turned and strode off down the street, leaving you standing there, fuming.  

You sat at your desk, staring blankly at the screen, willing yourself not to think about the events from earlier. But no matter how hard you tried, your mind kept circling back. You couldn’t believe his fucking audacity.

The way he’d just grabbed your wallet out of your pocket… like it was nothing, and then had the nerve to smirk at you. The memory made your blood boil all over again. You were livid.

It was obvious he was wealthy, the kind of man who was used to getting whatever he wanted. But you weren’t about to be bullied by some rich asshole. You couldn't stand people like him, entitled, out of touch assholes.

But… lord, was he hot.

Your thoughts betrayed you, conjuring up his sharp cheekbones, chiseled jaw, and those dark brown eyes that seemed to smolder even when he was furious. He exuded danger. The kind that drew you in, whether you wanted it to or not.

For a moment, your mind wandered, imagining what it would feel like to run your hands through his hair, tugging at it as he…

No. No.

You shook your head, physically trying to jolt yourself back to reality. You weren’t about to let your thoughts go there. He didn’t deserve a second more of your time.

After work, you were exhausted, and all you wanted was to curl up on the couch and watch something mindless. As you walked down the hall to your apartment, the sight of an envelope sticking out of the door made you frown.

You approached it slowly, pulling it from the door and turning it over.

The handwriting on the front was neat and tidy. The letter itself was a single piece of paper, folded in half. Your name was scrawled on the front.

Hesitating, you unlocked the door and walked into your apartment. It was small, barely enough space for you, but it was the only place you could afford.

Closing the door behind you, you opened the letter.

Miss L/N, I trust you found this note where I left it. Please see the enclosed invoice for the cost of replacing my suit. If I do not receive a response within five business days, I will have no choice but to involve my lawyers. Sincerely, Elijah Mikaelson

There was a paper inside, folded in half. Pulling it out, you found the bill:

Invoice: Total cost of suit and emotional damages: $20,325.00

What the fuck?

The number at the bottom made you want to vomit. How the fuck could a suit cost that much?

There was no way in hell you could come up with that kind of money. If he tried to sue you there was no way you would be able to pay it.

Fuck. Fuck.

You stared down at the invoice, panic starting to build. His phone number was listed at the top, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you dialed the number, your heart hammering in your chest.

After two rings, a deep, infuriatingly familiar voice answered.

"Miss L/N, I was beginning to wonder if you'd gotten my note," he said, sounding amused.

"You can't be serious. That suit cannot cost that much," you snapped, trying and failing to keep the fear out of your voice.

"As a matter of fact, it can. You should feel lucky I'm not asking for more, considering the insult to my character. Or do I need to remind you of how you behaved?" he asked, his tone dripping with arrogance.

"How much emotional damage could a spilled cup of coffee possibly cause?" you scoffed, unable to stop yourself. "I'm not paying that. No way."

"Well, unfortunately, the suit is ruined. My dry cleaner tried his best, but it was simply too late," he said, his words clipped and precise. "Now, we can settle this between us. Or I can call my lawyer, and the two of us can hash out a deal in court."

"What the hell do you want from me?" you asked, unable to keep the anger and hurt out of your voice. "You think I have a couple grand lying around? I can't even afford my rent, much less a suit that's worth more than I'll make in the next year!"

"Then I suggest you get a better job," he replied, his tone dismissive. "I have no interest in playing games with you. Either pay what you owe, or face the consequences."

"Go fuck yourself," you hissed, hanging up and slamming the phone down on the table.

He couldn't be serious. There was no way. He was a sadist, clearly. Just an entitled, privileged prick, and you had no doubt he would go through with his threat.

Your phone started to ring, and you glared at it, tempted to ignore it. But you knew that would only make things worse.

With a sigh, you picked up the phone, answering it and pressing it to your ear. "What?"

"Well, that was rude," he said, his voice cold.

"Yeah, well, so is threatening me," you shot back.

"You're being unreasonable," he said, his tone infuriatingly calm. "We can settle this like adults. If you can't afford the suit, perhaps there's another way we can work out our differences."

"If you're trying to blackmail me into having sex with you, fuck off. I'm not a hooker," you snapped.

He laughed, and the sound made you shiver, even as it enraged you. "Hardly darling, I don't pay for sex,"

"Then what the fuck do you want?" you asked, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

"An apology," he said, and there was something dangerous in his voice, a hint of a threat.

"Fine," you said, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry. Now, leave me the hell alone."

"No, I want an apology in person, perhaps over dinner. After all, we never had a chance to get properly acquainted," he said, his voice smooth.

"That wasn't part of the deal," you hissed. "You said an apology, not a date."

"Are you trying to negotiate terms with me?" he asked, his tone amused. "Because I'm not sure that's wise. After all, if we go to court, I'll win. I have excellent lawyers."

"Are you seriously going to sue me over a stupid suit?" you asked, the anger in your voice fading, replaced by fear.

"That depends. Are you going to refuse my request?" he asked, his voice soft, yet firm.

You hesitated, weighing your options. On one hand, you could try to stand up to him. But there was no doubt in your mind that you would lose a court battle… you did damage his suit after all.

"Fine," you said, the word leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

"Excellent. I'll pick you up tomorrow at seven," he said, sounding satisfied.

Before you could respond, the line went dead.

You stared at your phone, furious. This wasn’t an apology; it was a trap. But what choice did you have? You’d give him his stupid apology…and then, hopefully, you’d never have to see him again.

At first you decided you were just going to wear a sweatshirt and leggings. Let him deal with it. You weren’t about to put the effort in. But a small voice inside told you that it would only make things worse. Besides, if there was any chance this would be the last time you had to see him, maybe you should look good. Show him that you weren't some charity case.

With a sigh, you put on the nicest dress you had, a simple black shift. You spent some time doing your hair and makeup, and as you stared at yourself in the mirror, you felt a flicker of pride.

You could do this.

As you finished getting ready, you wondered if he was going to show up in another ridiculously expensive suit. Probably. It seemed like his entire identity was tied up in his clothing. A small, diabolical part of you considered ruining another one of his suits, just to spite him. But you dismissed the idea. It wasn't worth the cost.

Just as you finished slipping on your heels, the buzzer rang. Grabbing your purse, you headed down the stairs, taking a deep breath as you pulled open the front door.

There, waiting for you, was Elijah, looking infuriatingly handsome. He wasn't dressed in a suit this time, in fact what he was wearing was much less formal, and a lot sexier. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans, and a dark blue shirt, the top two buttons undone, and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Was he aware of how ridiculously hot he was? Of course he knew... A man with all that wealth and confidence wouldn't have a doubt in his mind that women would fall at his feet.

"Hello, darling," he said, a hint of a smirk on his lips as he gazed down at you. "You look lovely."

"Don't," you said, holding up a finger and glaring at him. "I'm not your 'darling' and you don't get to call me that."

He chuckled, the sound making your skin prickle with heat. "Very well, shall we?"

He offered you his arm, and against your better judgement, you took it, allowing him to lead you to his car. You were surprised when he opened the passenger side door for you, but didn't comment, sliding into the seat.

"I expected you to be wearing another suit," you commented, trying to keep the bitterness out of your voice. "After all, they're such a large part of your personality."

He looked over at you, his gaze moving down your body, taking in the curves of your breasts and hips, lingering on your legs.

"And I wasn't expecting a dress, but here we are," he said, his eyes meeting yours, the challenge in them clear.

"You're insufferable," you muttered, turning to look out the window, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

"I could say the same about you," he replied, his tone amused. "Though, I will admit, I admire your spirit."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" you asked, your brows furrowing.

"Yes, it is," he said, keeping his gaze on the road.

You scoffed, shaking your head. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"A little restaurant not far from here," he said, not elaborating further.

You were tempted to ask him more, but you didn't want to seem overly interested. You were still trying to figure out his motives, but you didn't want him to think he was winning.

The rest of the drive was spent in silence, and soon, he was pulling into a parking spot. He came around to open the door for you, and you ignored his hand, standing on your own.

You followed him into the restaurant, a quaint, homey place with dim lighting and candles on the tables. The waiter seated you, handing each of you a menu and taking your drink orders.

When he walked away, you turned your attention back to Elijah, studying his face in the low light. His features were strong, defined, and there was something oddly compelling about his eyes, the way they seemed to see right through you.

"So, what's your story?" you asked, breaking the silence. "What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a philanthropist," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "I invest in various causes, and also provide grants to those in need."

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. "Of course you are,"

"And what is that supposed to mean?" he asked, a slight edge to his voice.

"You just scream old money, the kind of guy who's never had to work a day in his life, never had to struggle," you said, not bothering to mask the disdain in your voice.

He arched an eyebrow, his lips twitching up into a half-smile. "You're quite judgmental, aren't you?"

"Says the man who's trying to extort money from me," you retorted, your temper flaring.

"Sweetheart, you don't know anything about me or my struggles," he said, his tone deceptively calm. "I think it's best if you keep your opinions to yourself."

You glared at him, your jaw clenching. You wanted to fire back, tell him he was wrong, but a small, logical part of you warned against it.

"Fine," you muttered, crossing your arms. "I'm sorry...again."

"Apology accepted," he said, his expression smug.

Before you could respond, the waiter returned with your drinks.

"Are you two ready to order?" he asked, giving you both a polite smile.

"Yes, I'll have the steak," Elijah said, handing the menu back. "And she will have the pasta."

Your eyes narrowed at him. "No, actually, I'd like the salad,"

"Nonsense," he said, dismissing your objection with a wave of his hand. "Trust me, you'll like the pasta better."

The waiter nodded and collected your menus, leaving you alone once again.

"Did I say I wanted pasta?" you asked, irritated by his high-handedness.

"It's delicious, you'll see," he said, ignoring your question.

"So, is this how it's going to be all night? You making decisions for me, and me being pissed about it?" you asked, trying and failing to keep the frustration out of your voice.

He let out a soft chuckle, his dark eyes meeting yours. "Probably, yes."

You shook your head, biting back a scathing retort. Clearly, he enjoyed being an asshole. And you were determined not to give him the satisfaction of provoking you.

He was watching you closely, a smug smile on his lips. "So what do you do for work?"

"I'm a planning coordinator at a nonprofit," you said, your voice tight.

"That's interesting, what is the organization?" he asked, seeming genuinely curious.

"It's an outreach program for the homeless, I manage all the paperwork and the grant applications, that kind of stuff," you said, shrugging.

"How noble," he murmured, his gaze assessing.

You weren't sure if he was being sincere or not, and the comment rubbed you the wrong way.

"It's just a job," you muttered, not wanting to admit that it was something that mattered deeply to you.

"That makes you very little money, apparently," he said, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

"Well, not everyone can be a rich philanthropist," you shot back, your temper flaring.

He let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "Fair point."

"Why are you really doing this?" you asked, unable to hold back the question.

"Doing what?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Blackmailing me into going on a date with you," you said, narrowing your eyes.

"You seem to have a lot of misconceptions about me," he said, his tone amused. "For starters, this isn't a date. It's an apology dinner."

You snorted, shaking your head. "Yeah, right. I've already apologized multiple times. Why did you really want to meet me?"

"You intrigue me," he said, his expression unreadable.

You were about to respond when the waiter returned, placing your meals in front of you.

"Here you go, enjoy," the waiter said, giving you a quick smile before heading off to another table.

You stared down at the pasta, it looked absolutely delicious, but you weren't about to admit that. You took a tentative bite, trying to hide your enjoyment, but it was no use. The pasta was amazing.

"Told you," he said, a knowing smile on his face.

"I'm not admitting anything," you muttered, taking another bite.

"Of course not," he said, his tone laced with amusement.

As you ate, you stole glances at him, trying to figure him out. He was a puzzle, that much was certain. But there was something dangerous lurking beneath the surface, a darkness that set your nerves on edge.

You were halfway through the meal when he spoke again.

"So, tell me more about yourself," he said, his dark eyes locking onto yours.

"What do you want to know?" you asked, keeping your voice casual.

"Anything," he replied, a faint smile playing on his lips.

You considered his question for a moment before responding. "I work, I go home, that's pretty much it."

He gave you a look, one that said he wasn't satisfied with your answer. "That's all? There must be more to you than that."

"Nope," you said, popping the 'p' for emphasis.

"I see," he said, his expression giving nothing away.

"What about you? I know you're a rich asshole who is obsessed with their clothing and extorts money from innocent people, but other than that, not much," you said, a hint of a smile on your lips.

"You think you have me all figured out, don't you?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement.

"Pretty much, yeah," you said, shrugging.

He leaned forward, his gaze intense. "What would you say if I told you that I'm an ancient vampire who runs this city with my equally powerful and ruthless family?"

You couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, so you are crazy. Good to know."

He didn't respond, simply staring at you, his expression deadly serious.

You shook your head, finishing the last few bites of your meal. "Come on, really? Vampires? Don't insult my intelligence."

He smirked and shrugged, leaning back in his chair, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Fine, don't believe me."

The waiter returned with the check, and before you could object, Elijah paid, adding a generous tip.

"Ready to go?" he asked, standing and offering you his arm.

You wanted to refuse, to insist on paying for yourself, but the rational part of you knew that it would be futile. Besides, maybe he'd finally leave you alone after this.

"Sure," you muttered, taking his arm.

As he led you out of the restaurant, you couldn't help but notice how good he smelled, and how firm his muscles were under your hand. You hated yourself for it, but he was undeniably attractive.

"Are you done terrorizing me?" you asked, as you made your way towards the car. “Is my debt to you cleared?”

He chuckled, opening the passenger door and waiting for you to get in before responding. "The debt? Yes. Terrorizing you? Not even close.”

{Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Four}

[tarithenurse]

The roommate

Fandom: MCU. Pairing/starring: Bucky Barnes & fem!reader. Word count: 1059. Content: Angst, slight pining, weapons, [Y/N], unbetaed as usual. A/N: Got an idea. Got to writing. Thinking of maybe making a second chapter...we’ll see if it makes sense. Please reblog and comment – it’s fuel!

The roommate

Somehow, it had all gone wrong.

You had just wanted to be helpful and dump the laundry in his room for him so you could wash your own load.

No scratch that, that’s not where it started fucking up.

You hadn’t known he was home. If you had, you’d have knocked. If you’d had knocked, you would have waited with entering until he called out ‘yes’.

If you just had done all that, then you wouldn’t now be faced with a gun.

You still have his laundry in your arms as your mind does loops to figure out how this could all happen to you of all people.

“James?” you manage to eek out.

You like your roommate. Quiet and polite, it had taken a long time before you two became friendly enough to hang out for fun. Then you’d learned that he was good at a lot of things: puzzles and quizzes – he always did the Sunday’s difficult crossword in record time while you struggled with the easy one, he’d sorted the lock on the storage unit in the basement when you lost the key – thus revealing that he liked picking locks, what was most telling right now that there was more to the man was the fact that he had you at gunpoint and only looked mildly apologetic.

“I didn’t think you were home,” he says as if that explains everything. It doesn’t.

“Likewise,” you stammer, eyes fixed on the weapon.

Stepping back, he motions you to drop the laundry on the bed. “You shouldn’t have come in here.”

It’s the first time you’re in the room since you rented it out to him. Now you see how spartan he lives...and you see a desk covered in an arsenal of weapons and passports and stacks of money and...nothing makes sense.

“I’m not...I won’t...” you offer tamely, hoping he believes you.

He sighs. Then he lowers the gun, clicking on the safety.

“Sit.”

Of course you obey, plopping down next to the pile of t-shirts, socks, and boxer shorts that you had tried not to think of him in.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, a nagging voice tells you that him lying like this about his identity probably is a breach of the rental agreement so you can keep the deposit. Another voice is trying to draw your attention to the fact that he’s only wearing grey sweatpants – his perfect chest is bare and not even the scar by the stump of a shoulder is enough to make him ugly.

“I know you won’t tell anyone,” he finally says, “because no one would believe you.”

He’s right. No one would. A one armed man would not be a logical criminal...or whatever he is. You glance to the table again. Spy? Assassin?

Following your line of sight, James nods. “Yeah...I guess you’re wondering what that’s for.”

He steps over, places the gun down and picks up a passport that he tosses to you. Fumbling, you catch it and flip it open.

Well, at least he gave you the right first name...it’s the other two that makes it all make sense, though: James Buchanan Barnes.

While you study the picture, you’re vaguely aware that he slides open the closet and pulls something out. It’s only as the whirring sound breaks the silence that you look up and see the infamous prosthetic that turns him into everyone’s nightmare or hot dream: the Winter Soldier.

“I’ll be gone in 20 minutes,” he says flatly.

“Why?” you blurt out, surprising yourself just as much as him.

James narrows his eyes at you. “I figured you wouldn’t want me and my...gear around.”

“I...don’t think I mind...I mean...you’re one of the good guys, yeah?”

You’ve seen the news: Falcon is the new Captain America. The Winter Soldier is his menacing sidekick.

Maybe James haven’t watched the same shows as you though, because he cocks his head with a bemused smile. “I’m sure there are differing opinions on that.”

“I’m sure there are people who hate me too but that doesn’t mean I’m bad,” you counter, now more sure of yourself. “I don’t mind you staying...kinda makes me feel even safer than it already did.”

“Technically it shouldn’t.”

“You can actually protect me if there’s a burglar or something,” you point out.

He lifts a finger and opens his mouth before lowering the digit again. “Okay. True.”

“Good. Then you stay,” you decide.

You glance at the picture in the passport one more time, realizing a bit too late that he might have scoped out the entire place – including your room – to feel safe here. And if he’s been to your room, then he might have found the pictures on your vanity...one of which is a young Bucky Barnes in uniform and looking cocky.

“If you’ll excuse me,” you mumble, tossing the passport back as you get up.

He doesn’t stop you but he does follow as you shuffle out of his room and head down the hall to yours. You’re loath to open the door with him there, knowing that the vanity will be in view, but you have to get to that picture and hide it just in case he hasn’t seen it yet.

“[Y/N]...” his voice is low. Humming. “Do you know why I took your offer even if the rent isn’t the lowest in the area?”

You’ve stopped with the hand on the door handle. “No?” You don’t dare to turn.

“Major in history, minor in politics...your thesis was on the impact of the serum in the arms’ race,” he quietly explains, “but you never lost sight of the person embodying it.” Cool fingertips land on your shoulder. “I’ve done my research...and I’ve gone through every nook and cranny of this place more than once.”

You can feel the heat rise to your cheeks. “Every nook and...?”

“Every surface.” Gently turning you, he has to lift your face up with a finger under your chin. “I’m surprised you didn’t realize earlier.”

“You look different with the hair and beard and...yeah...”

You can hear how lame it sounds. Sure, you’d liked that there were some similarities but you’d never allowed yourself to entertain the idea that he might be the very same guy.

“Let’s get takeout and find a bottle of wine or two and talk,” James, Bucky, offers.

“Sounds good.”

[evervigilantnightshade]

The Line - Part One

Reader and John have always straddled the line between playful flirting and taking things further. However when they are forced into a safe house and a secret comes out will they be able to save what they were heading for or is all lost.

Reader x John Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Laswell, Original characters.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, flirting, a bit of light smut. Death and killing on missions. Father of reader's death mentioned. It will get pretty angsty for a bit.

Authors note: I used to write on Tumblr in a different fandom for a long time and then left. Now I'm back under a different name and I hope you like what I have to say.

MASTERLIST

Y/N couldn’t remember a point in her life that wasn’t geared towards being in the military. It ran in her family, going back generations. Her father was one of the most famous marksmen spoken amongst anyone in service. He was made for combat and dreamed of having a son to follow in his footsteps. 

When his first child was born he held his wife’s hand and admired her strength as she delivered their addition to their family. The first moment he looked into Y/N’s eyes he fell madly in love, no longer caring about succession. All he wanted was happy, healthy children. He was then gifted with 4 more girls. 

As she grew up though Y/N showed vast interest in what her father did. Always asking questions, begging him to teach her how to shoot a gun. She kept herself in shape and made sure to do well in school. 

When she turned 15 she told her father she wanted to join the military when she turned 18. He sat for a while saying nothing and she started to feel a bit anxious. 

“Y/N sweetheart can I ask you why you want to join?” He finally spoke

She paused to think about her answer, wanting to convey exactly how she felt.

“It feels right. I want to do something with my life that matters, I want to feel like I’m a part of something bigger than myself. I see the camaraderie you have with the men in your unit and I want that too. It’s in my blood dad, just like it’s in yours.” 

“You do understand that as a female it will be a long hard journey for you?” 

“If I work hard enough though and I’m a good soldier it shouldn’t matter though right?” 

“Oh sweetheart I wish for you that was true. However, almost all the time all they will see is that you're a girl and deem you less than themselves.” 

“Well I’ll just have to prove them wrong. And besides I won’t be doing it for them.” She said with determination in her voice. 

He sat for a bit longer and then reached over and put his hand on hers. 

“Whatever you need I’ll be there.” He said with a smile. 

“I want to do this on my own though.” She explained. “Not saying I don’t want you to be there for me. I just don’t want to rely on your reputation and the family name. I want to prove to myself and to you that I can do this.”

Her dad understood but was still worried for his daughter. 

She joined up at 18 just like she said she would and despite her determination her father had been right. It was hard for her, and there were times when all she wanted to was give up but that wasn’t in her. So she fought harder, trained longer and pushed herself to limits she didn’t even know she had. She was top of all her classes and was the best shooter on base. 

In fact she was so good that she was asked to join a special program in the UK for top marksmen. Again she pushed herself to the limit but it paid off. Her reputation sored and eventually she was recruited by Kate Laswell to join a team that was being put together. The 141 became her brothers in arms and the family she always admired her father for. 

The last time she saw her dad he told her how proud he was of her. She did what she set out to do, all on her own skill and determination. He now felt that the part of him that wanted a successor was fulfilled in ways he could only have dreamed of. 

He died of a heart attack 6 months later and it destroyed Y/N.

Now a year later, Y/N was laying in the mud high above the target zone, the ever vigilant sniper. Ghost was positioned opposite her, giving them both a complete view of any threats that may arise and compromise the mission. 

This year had been rough for the 141. They had been chasing the same target that seemed to elude them no matter what they did. The target was a man named Bako, a once low-level member of a drug empire now turned kingpin. Using violence and betrayal he has taken out anyone or anything that has been in his way. He has plagued the team for far too long and has become an increasingly dangerous threat. 

After all the escapes, near misses and wrong information the team finally got confirmation that he would be here, at this warehouse, meeting with his high-level partners. The plan was to bring the building down on top of them all, ending this once and for all. 

Soap, Gaz and Captain Price were currently approaching the target area quietly in a small boat. Y/N watched through her scope as the three men climbed out of the boat and made their way quietly across a small patch of grass that separated the water from the warehouse. The first thing she noticed is that Price had switched out his usual bucket hat for a baseball cap. Y/N’s core clenched, remembering a deal they had made a few months back.

They had been on a hard mission that had kept them away from the base for three months. After they all had showered, slept, and decompressed Soap was convinced they all needed a good old fashion BBQ to let off some steam. Kate agreed so her wife and her decided to host at their place.

Ghost and Soap were sitting at the picnic table while Y/N sat on a chair in the sun, wearing a pair of shorts and a v neck white t-shirt, trying to get some colour on her unusually pale legs. Beside her Gaz was going on about a girl he had invited that he was excited about. Granted he had only spent one drunken night with her before their last deployment. 

“She’s smoking hot Y/N, and smart.” 

Y/N glanced up over at him, shielding her eyes from the sun despite wearing sunglasses. 

“And you're sure about this one? Cause the last girl you were seeing went a bit crazy when you had to leave on missions. She called the Mexican embassy trying to find you. We weren’t even in Mexico.” Y/N reminded him

“Or what about the girl who was convinced you were sleeping with Bells and then tried to pull her hair out at the bar?” Soap chimed in and Y/N reached up and rubbed the side of her head.

“Took me by surprise. She was lucky I wasn’t armed.” 

“Yeah or that one…” Ghost started but Kyle interrupted him. 

“This one is different. I have a good feeling about her.” He smiled at them and Y/N felt a bit bad for him. 

“I’m sure she’s lovely Gaz.” 

He nodded at her looking proud. She chuckled thinking about the ways Ghost would intimidate her without even trying. 

“Ahhh good times” she mumbled and was about to take a swig of her beer when she froze the bottle half way to her lips. 

Price had just walked in wearing form fitting jeans, a slightly tight, black shirt and an army green baseball hat. He looked fucking amazing. Y/N bit her bottom lip and shook her head. 

Beside her Gaz waved his hand in front of her face and she looked up to see him, Ghost and Soap all looking at her, grinning.

“You ok there Bells?” Ghost grunted smugly.

“Fuck off” Y/N said with a grin despite being slightly embarrassed at getting caught drooling over their Captain. “And in this moment, if you're going to use my call sign, use the whole thing, dickhead.”

“Apologies Belladonna” Ghost said and then raised his beer which Y/N reciprocated. 

She took a long sip of her beer to wash down the heat that was creeping up her neck as well as creeping downwards. 

After putting his beer in the cooler, Price grabbed one and headed over to the group and nodded at them hello. Everyone either nodded back or mumbled a hello. 

“You four are unusually quiet.” Price said reaching over and using the picnic table to pop the cap off his beer. 

“We were just asking Bells…” Soap started but Y/N interrupted. 

“We were actually just talking about the new girl Gaz invited to the BBQ.” 

“You invited a girl here?” Price said and then chuckled. “Is this one, mentally stable at least?” 

Y/N got up, deciding to grab another beer, making a point to walk by Soap and smack him on the back of the head causing Ghost’s shoulders to shake while he silently chuckled. 

Price glanced over at Y/N while Gaz started telling him about his new girl. 

He almost fully turned around to watch as she bent over to grab her beer out of the cooler but then stopped himself. 

“Damn those are some dangerous shorts” He thought to himself and felt his jeans becoming a little tighter. 

He turned back at Gaz who was just staring at him. 

“Jesus Christ, the two of you.” Gaz shook his head and then walked over to talk to Kate. 

Price went over and sat at the picnic table. 

“What’s he on about now?” Price asked and Soap and Ghost exchanged glances. 

“No clue sir.” Ghost said, not wanting to be the one to point out the obvious.

The conversation naturally flowed then into football and the comment was forgotten. About an hour that consisted of chit chat and laughs, Kyle’s new girl showed up with a friend. 

Immediately Y/N got a bad feeling about them. 

Nancy was perfectly manicured, with her makeup and hair done up a bit much for a backyard BBQ. She had on a pair of white capris with a blue sleeveless blouse and wedges. Her friend looked like a copy and paste version of her. 

“Hey everyone,” Gaz announced to the group. “This is Nancy and her friend Becca.” 

For an awkward moment, no one said anything or made a move to introduce themselves to the girls. It was Kate that broke the silence and walked over. 

“Nice to meet you two. I’m Kate. Kyle has told us all so much about you Nancy.” 

“Awe he’s just the best isn’t he?” Nancy said, grabbing on to Gaz’s arm. 

“We certainly think so.” Kate said with a forced smile. “Do you girls want a drink? We have beer in the cooler.” She gestured over to the cooler on the deck. 

“Oh we don’t actually drink beer.” Becca said with her nose scrunched up. 

“Yeah we are wine girlies.” Nancy said in a playful tone.

“Um ok, yeah we have some wine in the house. Do you prefer white or red?” Kate asked. 

“Definitely white.” Nancy said looking over at Becca who nodded. “Yeah we’ll take white.” 

Beside Y/N she heard Ghost mumble “Gods give me strength.” Which caused her to smile. 

She then looked over at Price who was looking at her with a grin on his face and she grinned back. 

“You better go introduce yourself Cap. You are the leader of the team after all.” Y/N teased and he cocked his head at her with an amused look on his face. 

“Only if you come with me.” He retorted and Y/N laughed 

“You’d have a better chance of convincing Ghost to join you.” 

“Don’t even ask sir.” Ghost said, getting up and walking in the opposite direction of the girls just to be sure.

“Go on then.” Y/N sighed and stood up motioning at the girls.

Price stood up and then smacked Soap lightly on the shoulder. 

“You too Soap.”

He groaned but stood up reluctantly.  

“Play nice you two.” He warned and they made their way over to where they were standing.

Gaz’s face lit up seeing them approach.

“Nancy, this is my Captain.” He said proudly. 

Price smiled back and then extended his hand.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh Captain! That’s a fancy title.” Nancy said and then placed her hand in Price’s facing downward as if expecting him to kiss the back of her hand.

Instead he awkwardly shook her hand while holding on to the ends of her fingers.

“Call me John.” 

“And this is Johnny and Y/N.” Gaz said motioning to where her and Soap were standing.

Nancy looked over at them and then stuck her hand out the same way to Soap, while completely ignoring Y/N

“So many handsome men on your team.” Nancy said while looking over at Becca who was shaking Price’s hand.

“I agree.” Becca said with a smile. 

Y/N rolled her eyes and then turned around without saying a word, walking over to Ghost.

“How was that?” He asked and she just knew he was grinning under his black surgical mask.

“When Gaz makes his way over to you for introductions, and he will, do me a favour and scare them enough so they leave yeah?” 

Ghost chuckled beside her.

“You a bit jealous there Bells?” 

Y/N looked over at Becca who was currently squeezing Soap's bicep.She watched as Price took a slight step back to avoid the same treatment. 

“Got no reason to be.” She said with a satisfied smirk. 

“Because you’re pretty confident those girls aren’t Price’s cup of tea?” 

“Why would that matter to me? He’s a single man who is extremely good looking, and has a nice… everything.” She let out a sign at the last word causing Ghost to audibly laugh. 

“Oh love you got it bad.” But then his voice turned serious.  “Hope you know what you’re doing.” He said cautiously. 

“What does that mean?” She said a slight frown forming on her face.

“Just don’t want ya to get hurt is all.” He said with a shrug.

She took a second to swallow the lump in her throat and then plastered on a fake smile.

“Hey you know what I always say. Can't get hurt if you don’t catch feelings.”

“So it’s purely physical then?” He asked, turning now to face her.

“Of course.” She replied but they both knew she was lying. 

“Y/N…” he started but he was interrupted by Gaz calling out to him.

“Well, it looks like it’s your turn.” she said relieved as she slowly turned and started making her way over to Kate. 

“Don’t you fucking leave me.” Ghost hissed 

“Sorry I think Kate’s calling me, I think she needs help with the grill.” Y/N called over her shoulder and then laughed. 

“You know there are people out there who are scared of me.” He called out after her

“And I’m not one of them!” She called back.

Y/N watched out of the corner of her eye as Nancy and Becca were introduced to Ghost and he made no movement to reach out and take their limp hands. 

When they started grilling him about his surgical mask he stayed silent but when Becca reached over and squeezed his arm, telling how beautiful his eyes were, it was his breaking point and he turned and walked away without a word. Y/N heard Gaz say something about Ghost being shy and Becca giggled.

“I guess we’ll just have to break him out of his shell.” She said in a high pitched voice.

“Ok food is ready!” Kate called out 

Y/N was disappointed because she really wanted to see Becca try. 

They all sat down and ate the amazing food, constantly complimenting Kate and her wife saying it was one of the best meals they had had in a long time. 

After eating everyone was lounging around patting their full bellies. Price was sitting behind Y/N in one of the chairs smoking a cigar and talking to Kate. 

Becca and Nancy approached Y/N who was currently tidying up the picnic table. 

“Hey, you’ve been avoiding us.” Nancy said slurring slightly while pointing her finger at Y/N 

“Have I?” Y/N said, mocking her playful tone.

“You have, but that’s ok. I’m sure we’re going to be great friends eventually. Now we wanted to ask which one of these guys do you belong to?” 

Behind them Price and Kate halted their conversation to pay attention to what was happening now in front of them.

“I don’t belong to anyone.” Y/N answered with gritted teeth.

“Oh don’t be like that, you know what I mean. Which one is yours? We don’t want to be stepping on any toes here. We’re trying to find a match for Becca.” 

“I figured that much.” Y/N replied tensely.

“Yeah, being a soldier's wife would be so cool! And like they’re never home but you get all this respect for serving your country. How great is that?!” 

Y/N was about to tear into her but she felt a hand grab hers. 

“Watch it love. We wouldn’t want to ruin Laswell’s lovely BBQ would we?” Price whispered in her ear and closed her eyes, suddenly very aware of how close he was. 

She clenched her jaw when he let go of her hand and went back over towards Laswell, but remained within grabbing distance. 

“Oh perfect, you’re with the old man! He wasn’t even on our list of candidates!” Nancy said excitedly. 

“Not on your list?” Y/N said, her voice slightly raised “He should be on the top of that list!” 

“I mean we totally get it, for you he is but he’s just like not our type.” Nancy replied and Becca nodded.

“Oh but he’s a Captain! You must have amazing benefits! Especially like that death one.” Becca started and Y/N lunged. 

Before she could reach the girls though an arm wrapped around her waist and picked her up dragging her towards the house. Behind her she could hear Nancy and Becca still talking.

“What’s her deal?” 

“No clue, let’s go talk to that scary one again. I bet he’s hot under that mask.” 

She was struggling to get back out to the yard when Price finally put her down in the kitchen. 

“Let me go back out there. I promise not to kill them.” Y/N said while pacing the kitchen, Price was now blocking her only way out. “Just maim them a bit.”

“Hmmm” Price grunted, standing with his arms crossed in that way that Y/N loved. His fingers tucked under his arms, his thumbs pointed up and his hips jutting out. But she didn’t notice, she was too mad. 

“Death benefits! Death benefits. She’s talking about fucking death benefits like it’s the lottery.” Y/N went off still pacing. “They’re just out there looking to sucker one of you into marrying them so they can get your fucking benefits.” 

“Not me.” Price said amused. “I’m not on their list” 

“Yeah that’s another thing, not on their list. How can they look at you and not want you?” 

“Well,” Price said,walking over to Y/N and standing in front of her causing her to stop pacing. “I’m on your list and that’s all that matters to me.” 

Y/N blushed and then smiled slyly.

“And am I on yours?” 

He started slowly walking towards her and she was taking small steps backwards until she was against the kitchen sink. He leaned over and put his left hand on the counter beside her. 

“You are the whole list.” he said quietly and then grabbed the bottom hem of her shorts, his knuckles brushing against the skin of her thigh. “Especially in these.” 

Y/N felt her skin tingle and heat up but also felt a nervousness in her chest. They had never been this close to stepping over the line that separated play and real. Ghost’s words echoed in her mind “Don’t want you to get hurt.” A slight frown formed on her lips and immediately Price started to back up. 

“Sorry, that was too…”  He started but Y/N grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him back. 

“Don’t you dare.” 

He looked down at her lips and then further down before looking back into her eyes. 

“Are you sure this is what  you want? Because we have been playing this game for quite a while and once we cross that line I don’t think I could ever go back.” 

He moved his knee in between her legs and she let out a soft moan as she rocked her hips forward against it. 

“Does that answer your question?” She asked, flattening her hand on his chest and slowly moving it downward. 

“God woman.” He hissed and was about to slam his lips down onto hers when they heard Gaz calling out his name. 

“Fuck.” Y/N cried out and slipped out from in front of Price who moved forward, pretending to be doing dishes. 

Gaz walked into the kitchen and looked at the two of them confused. 

“What’s going on?” He asked looking over at Price who wouldn’t turn around. 

“Nothing, we’re not doing anything?” Y/N replied quickly 

“Dishes” Price added behind her. 

“Yeah dishes. We’re doing dishes.” She then picked up a dish towel to sell the story. 

“Ok… well Nancy came up to me and said that you were acting weird and looked like you were mad at her.” 

“Right, that.” Y/N sighed, relaxing slightly. “Gaz I want you to look at me and listen to what I’m saying alright? Hard no on Nancy.”

“What? But..” He sputtered but Y/N grabbed him by the shoulders. 

“Gaz she was talking about death benefits and how you’ll never be around. She may be nice looking on the outside but on the inside she is ugly.” 

Gaz sighed and then looked out towards the backyard. 

“Could I just enjoy the outside for a bit before I send her packing?” 

“NO!”  Y/N and Price said in unison. 

“Fine. I’ll get her out of here.” His head fell and he made his way back outside. 

Price stepped away from the sink and Y/N handed him the dish towel to dry his hands. She stood still facing away from him, her hands on her hips with her head down. 

“We should get back out there.” She sighed and then looked up at the ceiling. 

Behind her even though she couldn’t see him, Price nodded. 

They were silent for a moment and Y/N felt his hand rest lightly on her hips and leaned over to whisper in her ear. 

“Wear those shorts again for me sometime?” 

“John,” She said quietly and he pushed his hips into her with a moan, hearing her say his name. “You wear that hat again and you’ll see me in a lot less.” 

He groaned and nipped at her ear. They stood there for a minute and then John reluctantly let her go. 

“Ok we really need to go out back.” She said turning around to see John trying to adjust himself. 

“You go, I'm going to need a few minutes here.” 

After that they got busy at work with missions, training, paperwork and stakeouts that took over their lives and they hadn’t had a chance to be alone once. John went back into Captain mode and it was starting to feel like the BBQ was just a fever dream Y/N had. She spent many nights thinking about that moment and what could have come next. It was driving her to the point of insanity.  

But now, seeing John in that hat, she knew that he was suffering just as much as she was. 

“I guess a deal is a deal, Cap.” Y/N said into the coms quietly. 

Price looked up at her direction, smirked, nodded and gave her a quick wink causing her core to clench.

“Eyes on the prize here folks.” Ghost said in the coms. ”I want to get this over and done with.” 

“Roger that.” The rest of the team replied. 

-------------------------------------------------

Alright let me know what you think. I live off feedback. Should I continue? This is my first fic up so I’m going to need a little encouragement to start posting again.

[vermilionsun]

Guess who had seasonal sickness ✌

Anyway, I saw this in a dream :3 Enjoy

Word count: 1.3k Rating: General Audiences Fandom: Touchstarved (Red Spring Studio) Categories: Other Relationships: Mhin/MC, Mhin & MC, Ais & Leander & Mhin Tags: Comfort with very little hurt, Fluff, Happy Ending, Leander is a little shit, Ais is just... there

Another infiltration of the Senobium had ended in complete failure. The MC, visibly disappointed, hurried across the Wet Wick, nearly running up the stairs before locking themselves in their room.

Mhin took notice, a flicker of concern crossing their face as they hesitated before sighing softly and starting to follow the MC.

"Woah woah woah, not so fast." Before they could take another step, Leander appeared, gently but firmly placing a hand on Mhin's arm to stop them.

Mhin turned to face the man, a hint of annoyance in their voice. "What do you want, Leander? Can't you see I'm trying to—"

"I'm afraid that's not happening," Leander interrupted, retracting his hand.

Mhin narrowed their eyes. "And why, exactly? You're not the boss of me." They folded their arms, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Leander chuckled softly, leaning against the wall to block Mhin's access to the stairs. "You think I need to boss you around? Don’t worry, I know you won’t listen." His tone shifted, growing more serious. "But I also know a thing or two about people. And right now, the MC needs space… and I’m here to make sure they get it."

Mhin gave him a sidelong glance before averting their gaze. "Space, huh? And what makes you think you're qualified to decide what they need right now?"

"Because I’ve been around, Mhin. I’ve seen my fair share of emotionally charged situations. Sometimes the best thing you can do for someone is to give them space—to let them breathe and figure things out on their own." Leander stepped closer, a hint of playfulness creeping back into his tone. "Besides, you really think you're the best person to comfort them right now?"

Mhin huffed, their pride stung. They didn’t like the implications of Leander’s question, but maybe he had a point. "And I suppose you are, then?" Mhin’s eyes narrowed, though a hint of hesitation flickered in their gaze, betraying their uncertainty.

"You two are becoming worse than Vere and Kuras." Ais chimed in from the bar in a monotone voice, "Let it go."

Mhin shot Ais a withering glare at the unexpected intrusion.

"Shut your mouth, Ais. No one asked for your opinion." Mhin bristled, their hands clenching into fists at their sides. "And you," they continued, turning their attention back to Leander, "don’t think that I’m just going to blindly follow you."

Mhin left the Wick, their footsteps echoing against the cobblestone street. They were determined to reach the MC, even if it meant going against Leander. Their gaze darted toward the building, taking in the surroundings, the gears in their mind already turning. It wasn’t too high, and the brick-lined sides seemed to offer potential footholds for climbing.

Mhin spotted a few stable-looking pipes they could use to scale the building and began to climb as quietly as possible, their heart hammering in their chest. Slowly, they made their way toward the second-story window, finally reaching their destination.

A faint light filtered through the curtains. They knocked once. Twice.

The window opened, and Mhin found themselves face to face with a startled MC, who seemed surprised to see them. "Mhin…?" Their eyes were clearly puffy. Had they been crying?

Oh…

Despite their usual stoicism, a pang of inexplicable guilt hit Mhin. "MC, I… I know you probably don’t want to see me right now, but…" Mhin's words stalled as they struggled to find the right thing to say, suddenly at a loss for words. After a pause, they continued, their voice softer than usual. "I just… I wanted to make sure you were okay. And I didn’t want you to face… everything… alone."

Mhin's gaze dropped to the ground, unable to meet MC’s eyes directly.

The MC stared at them dumbfounded for a moment before chuckling softly. "Who are you, and what did you do to Mhin?"

Mhin's cheeks flushed slightly, taken aback by MC's response. "What? I… I'm still me, you idiot!" They huffed, crossing their arms and leaning against the window frame.

The MC laughed harder. Good. Mhin liked that laugh.

"I'm just saying, a few weeks ago, you’d rather stab someone to death than offer comfort. But why didn’t you come through the door?"

They shrugged, looking away. "I didn't want Leander or Ais to stop me. They were being obnoxiously clingy."

"Leander can be a little…"

"An overprotective asshole," Mhin muttered under their breath, rolling their eyes. "He's got his heart in the right place, I suppose… but he can be quite insufferable when he thinks he knows what's best for everyone."

"Won't you come inside? Or do you have to go?"

Mhin glanced over at the MC, silently weighing their options. They really wanted to stay, but they knew they had responsibilities to attend to. With a hint of reluctance, they sighed and pushed away from the window frame. "I… I have to go, actually. I’ve got commissions to take care of. But… can I come back later?"

The MC leaned against the window frame. "I’ll probably be asleep…"

Mhin’s expression shifted slightly, a hint of disappointment in their eyes.

"Oh… Right." They paused, their gaze lingering on the MC. They really wanted to spend more time with them, but they knew they couldn’t. Quickly, they pushed that thought aside. "I guess I’ll check on you tomorrow, then."

"Sounds great."

Mhin nodded, their usual stoicism slipping back into place. A small, rare, genuine smile tugged at the corners of their lips.

“It’s a deal then. Take care, MC.”

With a subtle salute, they stepped back from the window, preparing to leave.

“Wait—”

Mhin paused in their tracks, looking back at the MC, a hint of curiosity in their eyes.

“What is it?”

Mhin's eyes widened slightly as they felt a bandaged hand on their cheek and a soft kiss against their lips, sending a flutter through their entire body.

As the MC pulled away, Mhin stood there for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. Unable to respond, they simply stared back, their cheeks flushing a soft pink.

“Goodnight…”

Mhin nodded wordlessly, still dazed by the kiss. They lifted a hand in a gentle wave, trying to form a coherent response. “Goodnight… I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow…”

With a final lingering look at the MC, Mhin turned and quickly walked away.

As they walked, Mhin touched their fingertips to their lips, still lingering on the memory of the kiss. They weren’t sure how to process the new feeling surging through them—a rush of something they hadn’t experienced before. It was… terrifying and exciting all at once.

With each step, they felt themselves becoming more distracted, their mind replaying the moment over and over again.

They wouldn’t be able to focus on their work tonight at all.

[violetmuses]

Safety Net - A. Aretas 🌴❤️‍🩹🫂

Title: Safety Net - A. Aretas 🌴 ❤️‍🩹 🫂

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe

Character: Armando Aretas

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Female Reader

Main Storyline: When Armando Aretas leaves Mexico and faces Miami again, you change his life.

@nelo0wesker @nobodygetsza @yeahnohoneybye @sofia-da-1st @spaceacelover @btitannaaaaa

=====

Safety Net: Chapter 1

2024

The quiet departure from Mexico took so much planning, but Armando Aretas returned to Miami at last. Hiding would just stall reality this time.

His biological father, well-known Detective Mike Lowrey, pulled strings and “eased” the lifetime sentence, but Armando just needed more.

Waiting around between missions seemed pointless. If not useful, Armando might as well go back to prison and lock that damn cell forever.

Taking one rental car back to the small apartment from Lowrey, Armando didn't contact his father right away and took this much-needed shower before organizing just a few belongings here.

“I'm back.” Armando called Lowrey by the early afternoon.

“Hey, man. Really? Do you want me to pick you up from the airport?” Mike was a little surprised while answering the phone.

“Nah. Already settled here, but I'm just telling you.” Armando cleared his throat awkwardly

“You found the house? Cool. Glad you called me, too. Need anything?” Even Mike clipped words at this point.

“Maybe a side hustle?” Armando tried to frame the question easily. “I don't wanna stay around if you'll just call for work.”

“Right, I didn't think of that idea. My bad.” Mike almost whispered. “Let's see if I can help out a little bit.”

“Yeah, bye.” Armando hung up and left once more, hoping to run errands.

____

Many ran straight to the grocery store for various reasons, but Armando didn't need much, unlike other folks with children and more vacation plans.

Leaving the self-checkout, warm sunlight hit the parking lot as Armando reached that car and settled items, but one person caught his eye.

One door opens from another storefront in the shopping center.

“Thank you so much!” You beamed toward restaurant staff while carrying takeout and kept walking in the direction of your own vehicle.

To Armando, you looked cute and raved as sunlight heats up the state of Florida.

Though watching you from a distance, Armando found himself smiling in return, but pulled together and drove away, simply refusing to act weird.

Who are you? Aretas ponders during the commute back.

_____

Cooking and eating alone, gentle music played from his Bluetooth speaker. The device stood as his most expensive item beyond weapons or gear.

One call interrupted washing the dishes, but Armando picked up regardless.

“Hello?” Armando greeted the caller.

“Hey, it's me. Got something. Do you mind if we meet early tomorrow?” Mike Lowrey picked up this call again.

“No. What's going on?” The day would have Aretas occupied.

“This barbershop owner needs help.” Mike explained. “You'll get paid for basic upkeep over there. Nothing fancy.”

“Doesn't sound terrible.” Armando grounded his plans for the morning.

“Fair enough. See you tomorrow.” Mike ended the call this time.

Better than nothing. Armando thought, sleeping without dreams in preparation.

_____

“What's up?” Cruising with style, Mike Lowrey arrived while driving his classic Porsche the next day and greeted Aretas in this lot. “We'll meet that owner first.”

“Cool.” Armando repeated the note of his estranged father.

“How was your flight?” Mike tried offering small talk.

“Good. Still getting used to the house.” Armando told the truth.

“You'll be fine.” Mike went on. “My first place wasn't always dope.”

“Wait. Didn't you grow up with money?” Aretas squinted near his father. “That's what Marcus told me.”

“Well, yeah, but your mother knocked out riches. I stood undercover and worked as her driver before you were born.” Mike cleared his throat. “Let's go.”

____

“Morning, Detective.” The barbershop owner spoke up while addressing Mike Lowrey.

“Morning, Sir.” Mike offered respect to the older gentleman. “We shared our phone calls earlier, but this is my son Armando.”

“Hello.” Genuinely kind while speaking English, Aretas offered to shake hands with the owner right now.

“Heard about you, but we don’t have much time for questions. Let me show you around.” The older man continued speaking. Even Mike Lowrey stepped back, letting this moment between two different people for once.

Let him grow and learn. That’s the only way out of this problem. Lowrey thought, quietly watching his son understand this new environment.

_____

For Armando, three important rules grounded his place at the barbershop:

Aretas needed to show up every day now, arrive on time, and avoid drama. Constant structure keeps this guy from trouble in the first place.

Clients for the barbershop varied all week and Armando would remain observant every time someone opened that chiming front door.

Sooner than later, staff knew his name and everyone laughed sometimes, offering Aretas this comradery that didn't include heartbreak.

“Have you met Mike's partner yet?” One employee chuckled while cleaning his station.

“Marcus?” Sweeping, Armando immediately rolled his eyes and workers cracked up about Detective Marcus Burnett, Mike Lowrey's famous partner.

“Oh, no! Tell us.” The employee settled down and resumed working.

“I joined special operations at the police department, but this barbershop thing is a temporary job.” Armando played up his role a little bit. “One time, Marcus accidentally set our car on fire.”

“Woah!” Voices gasped through shock and even the owner tuned in.

“Marcus didn't know that windshield wiper fluid is flammable, so we jumped out right before everything burst into flames.” Aretas nearly cringed.

“Damn!” This story just pulled everyone's attention.

“We made it out alive, but moments like that really happen.” Armando shook his head and still cleaned when the front door chimed again.

“Hi! How's everybody doing?” One greeting brightened up the entire space. “I'm just here to bring Dad some lunch.”

You walked toward that barbershop owner with the biggest smile on your face, carrying takeout.

“Hey, Sweetheart. Thank you.” The owner gently raved while facing you, his daughter.

[iceinwhb]

Me, and my opinion. Last post.

Ok, I am simply amazed that there are comments on whb. Ha. When they were complaining about Levi and his new card, I thought it was because of how childish and silly it had been. I didn't expect them to give him the real P solely because Mc was younger.

So, at some points, with some posts talking about it, I thought I was going to be really rude if I got into an argument, “over nothing”, but now that I'm justified...

1.- We are adults.

And as adults that we are, we don't get to invent, or assume. We resolve ourselves with facts, and with coldness. We do not launch stupid and unverifiable accusations. If we want to point out a fact, you must demonstrate that Leviathan, as a character, is a pedophile.

2.- Do I really have to explain it?

For the people who accuse Leviathan of being a pedophile, where the hell do they get that from? Are they guided only because they wear a uniform? Mc may very well be over the legal age of consent for sexual relations in any country, not only that, Mc's nationality is Korean. In South Korea, they enter college at between 18-19 and finish between 22-23. At no time was it specified that Mc went to high school, or anything like that. Another point, are they really going to discuss the age of Mc when Leviathan biblically exists since the beginning of creation? Really? I don't know if those people will feel better if Mc is at least five thousand years old.

If don't have enough…

Well, let's say Mc was 16-17. You, player, are between 19-30. Do you know what age the game is geared towards? +18 in case we forgot the LITTLE detail. What if they know that Mc is the player's representation? Idk what they want. Especially BECAUSE THEY ARE ADULTS who know how to tell the difference, separate fact from fiction, separate a game from real life. Leviathan is not out there on the loose, looking for 18-23 year old “babes”, my god. And no one who plays the game, is going after a minor just because Leviathan likes the Mc who is probably 20 YEARS OLD. And more, of course. The story is based ON A DREAM, MADE OF MAGIC. Where do they find sense for they to want to complain about it? At this point I am indeed laughing at how absurd it sounds, because that's what it is.

Last but not least.

Okay, let's ignore all of the above. If you don't like the game, because it has certain themes, stop playing, go to Play Store, and look for the thousands of Otome games you like so much. There are millions, even those that touch only a sexual plot. There are hundreds and hundreds of different games for all tastes, but don't ruin the experience for other players just because other people think Leviathan is a pedophile. The game is PB's, and they can do whatever they wants with it as they has always done.

Really is the last.

With this point, it is where we delve into the fact that PB never gently implies when they talk about abuse, nor do they leave it implicit. They never did, they never would, they know the topics they touch on, how they use them and they never romanticize them. We are all aware of when it happens, and we are consistent enough to know that it is wrong, and that we are not going to replicate it in our daily lives, nor idealize as if we were 13 years old.

So, person who thinks they saw the worst of the worst, and you expose it as if no one has three fingers in front to understand it, question it and know it's a game, you're not helping anyone. Those of us in fandom are not idiots to not know what we are consuming. We know what whb is, we are aware of the complicated issues, and no, we are not 14, much less 16, we can think for ourselves and know what is wrong. You don't have to stress what we already know, please. If you want to complain, don't make a pointless war out of the issue, show that you have reading comprehension and do it on a reasoned basis. (Although I don't promise that anyone is going to take any notice of you for it, because no matter what you say, I repeat, we know what we are consuming).

If someone has to send this to one of those who can't even research for a minute, do it. Because it is truly fucked up to be at the expense of a daily absurd complaint.

Clarification.

I am not implying that no one is complaining. In fact, we should understand, learn, and tolerate all opinions, but it's one thing to say that Leviathan is an unprecedented jerk, abuser, and manipulator (and I would totally agree with the point), and quite another to accuse him of seriousness, spread him thin, and have more people, who don't know about the subject, want to play along, to the point that they get to PB.

I knew that whb had the potential to grow

And reach the public, even the wrong audience. But for certain types of people to make such a big deal over a card, especially over something as trivial as the Leviathan card it's absurdly stupid.

My prediction of all this is that Pretty Busy is going to be criticized sooner or later. We accept it, but we know it's not going to come from fandom, because we're not teenagers with attention issues.

It looks like PB is going to have to post more warnings and cautions about its content and the kind of themes they can find in it even within the game itself. I, what I fear the most, is that they will end up censoring it. (Because it's not enough for X and Play to have it labeled as C content.)

[finn-writes-stuff]

How about a Percy fic with dancing like beauty and the beast ballroom with something a little saucy at the end

In The Glade

When a plan relies on you being able to dance, Percy steps up to teach you, finally tipping the tension over the edge

Percy de Rolo x Reader

Fandom: The Legend of Vox Machina/Critical Role

Format: Oneshot

Content: This is just a snippet of romantic tension. It did not end up saucy.

Gender Neutral Reader

Masterlist

I'm in love with him, that is my husband right there. Sorry that this didn't end up saucy! Mutual pining has been rotting my brain lately <3 -Finn

You were going to kill Scanlan one of these days. He had managed to find a new lead for your latest adventure, but of course, it required infiltrating a formal event and finding out secrets. Scanlan had even created the perfect plan. You could subtly interrogate a person of interest on the dance floor and no one would be any wiser! Never mind the fact that you had never learned a ballroom dance in your life. 

There was no way you could do this, you would be found out immediately, the first moment that you misstepped. Why had you agreed to this?

"You're holding yourself too stiffly, you have to let me lead or this doesn't work." 

Percy’s steady voice drew you out of your thoughts as he tapped the hard set of your shoulders, a gentle reprimand to pull your focus back to him. He had offered to teach you how to dance, a skill he still remembered from his childhood in Whitestone. He should've been the one going, but he would have been at risk of being recognized.

"It's formal, but you do need to relax a bit, love. Get out of your head," Percy continued, waiting for you to drop some of the tension. "I can practically hear the gears grinding in there."

"If I die at that party, I need you to avenge me and kill Scanlan for this plan." 

"Deal, I can do that but you aren't going to die. Just focus alright? Here, step closer, you look like a scared deer. Nerves are like blood in the water at events like that."

You obeyed, stepping closer as his hand settled on your waist. Here, in the empty glade that he had found for the two of you, there was nothing to distract you from him. From the gentle heat radiating off him or the scent of gunpowder that always clung to him and his coat. He had a unique skill of being able to settle your racing thoughts just by being near you. 

"Follow my steps without guessing what I'm going to do next. Just trust that I have you," he said, guiding you once again into the dance. He was so sure of his movements, the same way he was in combat. It was incredible to watch, even as you stumbled along with him. He stayed steady, keeping you on track. "You're doing well."

"I've stepped on your feet multiple times already."

"So long as you don't start doing it intentionally, it's fine." He was smiling at you, the teasing lilt to his tone making your thoughts go fuzzy at the edges. 

"I should, you seem too smug about being able to teach me this."

"I'm hardly smug, I just...enjoy this. It's rare to get the chance to properly dance with someone and even moreso, I enjoy your company. So this is nice." 

You could feel heat rushing to your face. It always caught you off guard when he responded honestly rather than with his usual sarcasm. Banter was easy, but this set you off balance. Percy had been doing that more and more lately. You didn't know what to make of it, but you knew your heart was flipping in your chest each time he did. 

"It's, yeah, I think it's nice too. I really like getting to spend time with you" 

Gods, that smile. A little nervous, but so terribly genuine with a splash of red across his cheeks. You could hardly think, not when he was smiling at you like that and he was holding you so close, spinning you around the glade. The trees hid you both from the rest of the world, in this sweet moment of time, as if you had just stepped into a dream. 

You had both been heading towards an inevitable conclusion, drawing closer every time you joked around the campfire at night or had the other's back in a fight. From the first time that he had grinned at you, from the first time he had heard you laugh. There was no world where you wouldn't have fallen in love with him. And here, in each other's arms, you couldn't deny it. 

"Whatever you're thinking about now, it makes you better at following the dance, you aren't overthinking it anymore."

"I've got a good teacher. Are you going to teach me how to shoot next? Or maybe show me how to make those fancy arrows." 

He laughed and it felt like your chest was full to bursting. 

"Ask me nicely when you come back from that party and I will teach you anything you want." 

"Anything? That's a dangerous promise, de Rolo."

"I trust you. Besides, I think you're too curious about my guns to ask for anything else."

"What if I did want something else? Not a lesson," you asked, gently worrying the fabric of his sleeve between your fingers. 

"Then all you need do is ask."

"What if I asked to kiss you?" 

His breath caught, and you watched how his eyes dropped to your lips for a moment, before carefully dragging back up to meet your gaze. There was an open, honest want in his eyes, mirroring your own. 

"As I said, all you need do is ask." 

"May I kiss you, Percy?"

His voice was breathless as he responded without hesitation. "Please do." 

You couldn't tell who leaned in first, who kissed who, all you knew was the feeling of his lips on yours, a calloused hand cradling your face, and how good it felt to give into it all.

[aerkame]

LMK Mute Reader insert (short)Drabble

Arrrggh, I know I should be asleep rn, but this idea was bugging me, so here you go!

Lately I've gotten much better at ASL, my friend and I have been learning it on and off for months but it really got me thinking, what if an Isekai reader was mute? So much to unpack, and Lego people probably don't have ASL or any way of using their hands to communicate. Worse, there probably would not be or ever be any mute Lego people because of design issues. If so, we just never see it. It presents quite the challenge for anyone entering their world. I can see this MAYBE working out well if the reader ended up in Journey to The West or any other movie/media that does not involve having plastic, yellow, macaroni for hands. Fandom: Lego Monkie Kid Summary: (This is just a drabble to get my idea out because it's buggin' me) Reader wakes up one day in Lego Monkie Kid and struggles to process the lack of human hands.

----------

Sometimes you wish you could scream. This was one of those times.

In front of you stood what was supposed to be a fictional boy in a fictional world; but, having been just ran into by the excited hero made you realize this was all too real to be a dream. Things were clear, you could get hurt, you could smell, you could breathe, and most importantly, you were very self-aware. All evidence points to this being real. And you wanted to scream.

Getting up to dust your clothes off, you watched as what you recognized to be MK also get up. This was so uncanny.

Seeing the gears turn in his head, you watched as MK realized what happened before he came running up to you. "OHMYGOSHIAMSOSORRYABOUTTHAT-" He was frantically bowing over and over, not paying attention as you tried several times to raise your 'hand' to sign to him. You realized you needed his attention but he just kept rambling...and rambling...and more apologies came out until you finally grabbed his shoulder, gave it a squeeze, and made a small smile. Looking up, Mk made a nervous smile back "Are you okay? I'm so sorry I didn't mean to hit you with my staff!" He was practically eyeing you up down your body, most likely looking for injur- Wait. You got hit by his what now?

You flinched upon realizing what actually happened, ignoring MK's worried questions and prodding. You weren't ran into, well, you were, but you also got a good whack from the staff as well. So why didn't you feel anything?

"Uhhm...hello? I didn't hit you in the head did I?" You felt a hand gently tap your shoulder, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Looking over, you quickly began moving your hands, making odd gestures, trying to explain you were alright. MK looked confused, you looked annoyed once you realized the issue.

These hands, they weren't like yours, you can't communicate with them like you would back home.

A huff left your mouth as MK nudged closer to get a better look, he probably thought you were crazy now.

"I don't know what you're doing, but I'm sure you'll feel better with a bowl of noodles and quick check over?" The sentence came out as more of a question, MK clearly wasn't aware of the issue going on but he was too sweet to leave you here it seems.

It was a hard choice as weird as it sounds. On one hand, you could meet the main cast, but on the other, you don't know what you're getting yourself into. But...you need help and you feel overwhelmed. You doubt you'd feel comfortable being with other characters.

You gave MK a quick nod after thinking it through. Not even a split second passed before you were stuffed in the back of a noodle truck with MK hopping into the driver's seat, eyes sparkling "Perfect! I'm sure you'll love Pigsy's noodles!" Starting up the engine, MK sped off, not giving you a chance to buckle in.

Off in the distance, a bird watched the truck speed away from the crater left behind from one of MK's 'attack'. Imprints of your shoes were embedded into the stone due the force behind the staff. What a concerning sight...

[bekolxeram]

I had an idea of Buck finding out who Maurice was through Athena months ago. No one gave me that fic, I guess I'd better feed myself. I've never written any fic before, (You read that right, I don't mean for this fandom, I've never written any fic in my life) so I was planning for a short little humorous piece. Well, I'm around 2/3 of the way done, and it's already over 2.5k words long. I don't think I'll able to finish it in the very near future, and I still don't have an AO3 account, so I decide to share the first half of it with you? To give myself the motivation to keep writing?

I just want to get my ideas out there, I'll probably correct the grammar and refine the word choices when I finish the whole thing. Please enjoy and give me feedback. (Gently, it's my first time writing anything fictional outside of high school English exam)

The first time Buck heard the name Maurice, was at Chimney and Maddie’s hospital wedding.

Neither his sister nor his now brother-in-law had much luck in love. Murderous ex, surprise pregnancy, all sorts of trauma, mental health struggle, break up, make up, you name it, they had been through it all. Even on their wedding day, the universe decided to sprinkle in a little viral encephalitis as a last minute wedding gift. Any other couple would have taken all this as a sign of destiny’s disapproval of their relationship, but not Chimney and Maddie. Life kept trying to set them apart, but they chose to get back together, time and time again. Even when they were deep in delirium, when they had lost all sense of self, they always instinctively crawled back to one another, like it was in their very nature to love each other.

Buck agreed with his mother, getting married at a hospital was indeed appropriate. Plenty of newlyweds said their vows just for the sake of traditions, but when Maddie and Chimney pledged to their lives to each other, in sickness and in health, they had their entire relationship to back it up.

Buck was ecstatic, when Bobby pronounced them officially married. He envisioned how the day would be panning out quite differently, but he could not complain. Sure, he would prefer to have his date by his side, but as a firefighter himself, he understood the safety of the city was more important than his own feelings. If anything, on that day, he learned that life would not always let you have your dream wedding, or your dream date, but as long as you treasure and prioritize each other, everything would work out in the end.

Then Tommy walked into the hospital, still in his turnout gear, covered in soot, all apologetic.

Buck just knew he had to close their distance, taste the alluring flavor of smoke straight from his lips.

Tommy came, without stopping by to get changed or to wash up, because the wedding was important to Buck, because he promised to come. Buck once thought duty and romance was a question of either/or, but Tommy made enough of an effort to make them both work.

Buck knew very well how dirty his face must have been after making out aggressively with his date, but he did not care one bit. He had not been this happy for so long, he wanted everyone in the room to see how elated he was. He wanted to wear his happiness on his face.

He briefly congratulated the newlyweds. His sister, like the caretaker she was, pulled out a baby wipe for him to clean up his lower face. He tried his best to wipe off all the soot, then he took a piece a cake and started looking around the room for his date. He found Tommy having a conversation with the Wilsons.

“Hey,” Buck put his hand on Tommy’s lower back, “What are you guys talking about?”

“Just what an entrance you two have made,” Hen said with a smirk. Karen was struggling to hide her chuckle.

“Look at him, can you blame me?” Buck gazed adoringly at Tommy, “I was planning to show him off on the dancefloor anyway.”

“You’re full of surprise, Evan, you know that?” Tommy smiled, the ocean blue in his eyes filled Buck’s heart with affection.

“I’m sure it went a lot better than the last time you tried kissing someone in front of me,” Hen interrupted, with a devilish grin.

“Huh?” Tommy reacted, puzzled.

“Maurice.” The Wilsons were fully giggling at this point.

“Oh no.” Tommy covered half of his face with one of his hands, seemingly embarrassed by Hen’s teasing, “You guys are never going to let me live this down, aren’t you?”

The conversation kept flowing, but Buck was deafened by the thousands of questions in his head.

Who’s Maurice? Why have I never heard of him? Why was Tommy trying to kiss him? In front of Hen too? Was he Tommy’s crush? Who rejected him? No, were they… together?

“Evan?” Tommy noticed Buck’s lapse in focus.

“Uh… yes… yes, Tommy?”

“The cake?” Tommy pointed at the piece of dessert in Buck’s hand.

“Sure… Of course.” Buck handed the plate over. He really wanted to find out more about this Maurice, but at the same time, he recognized the recency of his budding romance with Tommy. Tommy would get around to mentioning this mysterious figure from his past eventually, Buck thought, so he decided to let it go for now.

“Sorry, I haven’t eaten since last night. I’m starving.” Tommy explained, while shoving a sizable chunk of wedding cake into his mouth. “Mmm, this is so good. This is everything I’ve been waiting for.” This man loved his cake, even the soot and fatigue on his face could not hide the genuine joy radiating from his face, in all its crinkly, wrinkly glory.

“The cake huh? Is that all?” Buck asked, flirtatiously.

Tommy flirted back, with his signature deadpan expression but burning lust in his eyes, “Well, I have to refuel my body before engaging in whatever activities await us tonight.”

Buck’s heart skipped a beat, probably from the sudden rush of blood down south. Yeah, Maurice could wait.

The second time Buck heard the name Maurice, was at the medal ceremony.

It was supposed to be a joyous occasion.

Not only did none of them get fired, they were all given medals for borrowing LAFD property and leading a pre-authorized rescue mission off the coast of Mexico. None of that would have been possible without the pilot. Yes, all of them played their part in saving Bobby and Athena from the sinking cruise ship, but Tommy in particular put his career, even his own life at risk just to help a few old colleagues he had not seen for years, just because there might be people in need. Judge him all you want, but seeing Tommy on that stage, being awarded for his skills and heroism, Buck simply could not conceal the fondness and enamorment written all over his face. Bobby and Athena being alive and well, looking like a classic Hollywood power couple, was obviously the most important part, Buck told himself. Although, Tommy being appreciated for the absolute ace he was, while in his dress blue, came as a close second.

The way the rigid fabric splayed across the pilot’s strong muscular body, buttons holding on for dear life against his bulging pecs, pants just tight enough to accentuate the curvature of his glutes, a feature Buck found enticing in all genders. Buck was not alone in ogling the real life erotic fantasy in front of him, about that he was sure, but he took comfort in knowing he was the only one there who got to touch this body, to worship it, to savor every inch of it, to feel it against his own. He might have almost missed his own call to the stage because he was too busy gawking at his boyfriend.

He was looking forward to celebrate this moment with his loved ones, maybe a little foreplay in costume with Tommy too, until Gerrard showed up and ruined everything.

Upon spotting the former 118 captain, Tommy looked as if he had seen a ghost.

The second Gerrard made a limp wrist gesture at Tommy, insinuating a homophobic slur, Buck realized he was more than an ignorant old man. He barely skirted the edge of blatant bigotry just to abuse his targets while staying on the side of possible deniability. If he used merely 10% of his brain power allocated for creative insults, Los Angeles would be a much safer place.

Tommy was clearly upset after their unexpected encounter with Gerrard. He was forking the food on his plate, without eating any, then abruptly, he stood up, “I don’t feel like eating these right now. I’m gonna get some cake, I’ll be back in a minute.”

Buck gave him a forced smile and a small peck to his temple, then he sent his boyfriend to his beloved sweet treat.

“I’m worried about him,” Buck turned to Chimney, “I’ve never seen him like this before, being so… small.”

“Working under Gerrard was not exactly a fun time worth keeping in your memory” Chimney sighed. “Like most of us, it took Tommy a long time and a lot of soul searching to become who he is right now. He did have a fat head back in the days, but I can’t say I blame the guy. Sometimes you do things you’ll regret further down the road just to survive at the moment.”

“Yeah… he told me the 118 was a regressive place back then.”

“Gerrard isn’t just another asshole, he’s an asshole with power, particularly power over his people’s safety. Tommy almost died because of him.”

“I know… Gas explosion, right? He said you saved his life.”

“I guess I did, but hey, Gerrard only gave me one month of KP duty as a reward, so that was a plus,” Chimney snickered, sarcastically.

“He punished you for saving Tommy’s life?” Buck never fully grasped the injustice, mistreatment, and suffering his loved ones faced under Gerrard’s reign of terror. He made a mental note to thank Bobby later for his gentle fatherly guidance.

“That’s who he is, Buck. All power trip, no leadership. I’ve never seen Tommy so scared of somebody,” Chimney continues, “except maybe... Maurice.”

Maurice, this name again. Buck still knew close to nothing about this cryptic individual.

Tommy was very upfront about how abrasive his was in his youth. Having to desperately hide his true self from his abusive father, then intolerant military policy, and finally his homophobic superior, he had learned very early on that the best defense was a solid offense. He was cold, distant, downright rude to anyone and everyone who tried getting too close, to the truth, to his desire, to his heart. So if Tommy was reluctant to share the parts of his life that he was less than proud of, Buck would not try to pry… At least until Chimney told him how fearful Tommy was of Maurice.

“Who…” Just as Buck opened his mouth, his brother in law rose from his seat, grabbing the red wine filled glass with him. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to take this wine to my wife.”

As soon as Chimney left, Tommy returned with a piece of cake in his hand and a subtle smile on his face.

“Heyy-” Tommy greeted Buck in his usual playful tone.

“Hey, feeling better?” Buck was relieved, sensing Tommy’s change of mood.

“Um…” Tommy looked down, seemingly pondering. Then he retook the seat he previously occupied, the one right next to Buck, and hooked one of his feet under his boyfriend’s chair. He gave the chair a swift, firm tug, and in the blink of an eye, the physical distance between them vanished.

“Now I am,” Tommy murmured with his deep, gravelly voice.

Just like that, the rest of the room ceased to exist for Buck. No Gerrard, no Maurice, only Tommy. Buck’s fingers slowly slid towards the strong, burly thigh leaning against his own, but Tommy stopped him on his track, by grabbing his inquisitive hand.

“This is not exactly... appropriate for work, don’t you think?”, Tommy said, without letting go of Buck. “People may have questions if they see us.” His grip tightened, just enough to reignite the fervent desire building up between them since the start of the day. “Hen and Karen asked me just now about my intentions with you, if they are…” He looked down at the shinny medal currently decorating his boyfriend’s chest, and used his free hand to adjust the ribbon, “honorable.”

“And what did you say?” Buck asked breathlessly, almost panting.

“I told them, we’re taking it very slow…” Tommy inched closer and closer. “You’re taking the lead, I’m just trying to keep up…” His lips ghosted over Buck’s cheek, then he whispered into his ear, “Where should we go now?”

Buck responded by simply dragging Tommy onto the station rooftop. With the “no visitors” sign blocking the stairs, it was the perfect place for some private pastime.

[arandomcranberry]

Hot take but I actually don't mind the bnha ending. Obviously it's not perfect, but nothing is and that's what fanfiction is for. I'm mostly talking about the post timeskip part of the ending, since the long drawn out battle stuff is what bored me from the series in the first place.

More thoughts and spoilers under the cut:

So I've seen people upset about Izuku losing one for all, but him being quirkless again brings it all full circle and makes sure the whole one-for-all/all-for-one thing is actually done with. Since it's hard for quirkless people to be heros in quirked society, especially with his messed up arms, he becomes a teacher to he can still help and inspire the next generation. The part where he tells the circle hair kid that he CAN be a hero, even with a weak or nonexistent quirk, is him learning from his past and doing better than his predecessors by inspiring the next generation (instead of crushing their dreams...All Might better be glad midoriya didnt go villain...). Plus, at the end, it's implied that he gets to become an active hero again with the use of support gear, so he eventually gets to directly help people in the field as well as indirectly in class. I know a lot of people were hoping for ships and pairings to become canon, but honestly I don't care about that. There's so much discourse in the mha fandom already about that, and this way people can still ship who they like or whatever.

Anyways, I prefer Clouds fics and a couple of others to the main series anyway (mostly because they're shorter and get to the point a little faster) so take my thoughts with a grain of salt lol.

(Just gonna advertise some of my fave bnha fics lol)

Clouds fics:

Cheat Code: Support Strategist

Deku? I think he's some pro...

Mastermind: Strategist for Hire

Viridian: The Green Guide

Shadows: The Horror Movie Heroes

Other fics:

Yesterday Upon the Stair/Deku Sees Dead People

Residual Hope (haven't caught up with this one in a bit)

The Capture Scarf Caper (sigh, hasn't been updated since 2021)

Hero Class Civil Warfare

Regenerate, Fate

[writingquestionsanswered]

Interested in Writing But Can't Seem to Write

Anonymous asked: I've been interested in writing since I was a child. Used to be a bookworm. Whole chapter books in one night, completely addicted as a form of escapism. My first real dream job was to be an author - I decided this at around 11 maybe. No matter how many phases I've had, I always return to wanting to be an author. I am 22 now. I have not written a single thing. I vaguely remember writing like, maybe 3 things at most. Incomplete works that I just had fun with. And this was before I even turned 14. But in all those years of "loving writing and books" and "wanting to be an author" I did straight up nothing. Didn't even contribute to fanfics for the fandoms I was deeply obsessed with (I do remember trying once but wasn't into it). At some point reading was out of my life too.

I'm going to start here, because of these conflicting statements:

-- "I have not written a single thing." -- "I vaguely remember writing like, maybe 3 things at most."

See the issue? ;) If you've written "maybe 3 things" you have written something. They may have been incomplete, and you may not even remember what you were, but that doesn't mean you should discount them. You have written. That experience is still in there somewhere.

One of my biggest pet peeves as a longtime writer is hearing newer writers refer to themselves as "aspiring writers." If you write, you're a writer. Period. It doesn't matter if you journal, write poetry, write fan-fiction, or wrote a middle-school round robin with friends where you all married your favorite K-Pop stars. You write. You're a writer. And, honestly, even if you're not actively writing right now, if you want to write--if you think about writing, are constantly jotting down story ideas and character names, and are eagerly gathering inspiration from all around you... guess what? You're still a writer.

Now I'm trying to take my interest in writing more seriously, but I just can't sit down and write. I'm good at storing notes and ideas and daydreaming what my stories are about, but nothing is ever produced. If I think about it I immediately lose interest - even if I am in fact still interested in writing and publishing? I'm very confused by my behaviour and I wonder if it's normal.

What you're experiencing isn't unusual. In fact, most writers experience it from time to time, though usually it happens at points further into the writing journey and not right at the start. But I still wouldn't call that "abnormal." It happens.

There are a hundred-million reasons why it happens, and the only way to figure out why it's happening for you right now is to do some soul-searching. At your age, I think a prime suspect would be that you're in the jumping off point for your adult life. This can be a tumultuous time for a variety of reasons, and your focus and energy may be naturally geared toward the things that help you explore and settle into this new phase of life. Even beyond that, if you have have a demanding job (including being a parent or caregiver), are going to school or studying for job-related tests/classes, or have a lot going on right now (multiple projects, lots of travel, lots of appointments and social commitments, etc.)--your focus and energy is probably running thin as it is, so finding a way to funnel what's left into writing is going to take some finesse. And that's if this is even the right time for it, which I'll get to later on.

Writing Stress = Writing Avoidance

One of the most mind-blowing things I've learned about writing is that writing avoidance often comes down to writing feeling stressful for whatever reason. If you're putting a lot of pressure on yourself to write, write a certain amount, meet goals or deadlines, that translates to stress. It makes writing stressful, and the problem with that is evolution has wired our brains to avoid things that are stressful. At its most basic level, stress is a response to danger--you hear a lion roar in the distance, it causes you stress, you turn and run in the opposite direction. Stress triggers the "fight or flight response," a defense mechanism that protects us from the impending danger. With writing, "fight" shows up as self-criticism. "Flight" shows up as avoidance.

So, if you find that you want to write but are avoiding it, it's worth considering if you're avoiding it because it feels stressful to you. If so, there are things you can do to de-stress writing. For one thing, let go of the notion that you have to write any particular thing or amount in order to be a writer. Set yourself a bare minimum writing goal to reach every day... like writing for 10 minutes. That can be any writing--journaling, writing prompts, working on a story, fleshing out story ideas, fluffy fan-fiction, poetry, writing down a favorite memory, doing a book or movie review, anything. Try to do it every day, but don't beat yourself up if you sit down and aren't able to write anything, don't write a lot, or never sit down at all. Just try, every day, do your best. Also, try setting up a writing routine that you do every day when you sit down for that little writing session. Try to pick the same or similar time each day, do a little meditation or stretch beforehand, put on some soft music or light a candle, get your favorite drink or small snack. If you do this almost every day, what you'll start to find is that the writing happens more and more easily. Eventually you'll be spend more and more time doing it.

Why can I say I'm interested in writing when I don't write at all?

I'm interested in traveling to England but I haven't yet and have no current plans to. Does that mean I'm not allowed to say I'm interested in traveling to England?

Being interested in something doesn't mean you have to do that thing right now or you can't say you're interested in it.

And even if you can't write right now for whatever reason, there are still plenty of writerly things you CAN do. Following writing blogs and vlogs is a good start. You can listen to writing podcasts and read writing craft books. You can keep a notebook full of plot and character ideas, setting inspiration, favorite quotes, interesting words, and overheard bits of dialogue. You can watch TV shows and movies (and read books, which includes listening to audiiobooks!) You don't even have to do these things all the time or everyday. Just periodically, when you can. It all goes into your creative well and will be there to draw from when you are able to write.

One final word...

You do not have to be in a hurry to be a writer or to be a published writer. The average age of first-time publication is mid-30s. I was mid-40s. Jane Austen was 35. Toni Morrison was 40. J.R.R. Tolkien was 45. Richard Adams was 52. Annie Proulx was 57. Laura Ingalls Wilder was 65. National Book Award winner Harriet Doerr was 74. Poet Sarah Yerkes started writing poetry at 97 and was published at 101.

So, be interested in writing. Own that interest. Figure out if and how writing fits into your life right now. If it doesn't, do the other things. Fill your creative well so it will be ready when writing does fit into your life. ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[velvet-paradox]

Ache

Fandom: Call of Duty Pairing: König x Female reader Summary: You get a concussion and poor König is beside himself and the 141 are trying their best to get you to remember. Length: LONG; I am so NOT sorry btw ;) Warnings: NSFW 18 + ONLY, strong language, explicit content, reader has a little freak out, flashbacks, sad boy König, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, detailed smut. Tagging: @synnersaint @isikforyourthoughts @stuckimaginationuniverse @howaboutlunch @pookie90 @undeadfreak47 @pokerfaceftw @dracofxckingluciusmalfoy @panty-h03 @0151imagayone

p.s. I used Google translate for the words below Bis später = see you later Bitte = please Verdammte Scheiße = holy shit

ENJOY!!!

König is worried. Fidgeting in this sterile room, everything is so white and so clean, not a speck of dust on any surface, tidy desks and stiff furniture that begs to be sat on or it'll turn into stone. He paced the room, heavy boots pounding mopped up linoleum.

His gear is still stained, hadn't bothered to wash off the combat. There wasn't any time. He had to get that EVAC out to your location as soon as possible, he'd have to apologize to driver when he found him. He was in a rush and overwhelmed with panic, he didn't truly mean to knock the woman down trying to get you into the back of the van.

But you were in danger, hurt, unconscious.

Those sorry motherfuckers had harmed his precious girl, the only one to make him smile, to make him genuinely laugh. You took him as is, all broken pieces and shattered dreams. You'd fight his demons if you could, you told him so night after night, stroking his head against your chest or stomach.

You were his grounding point. The calm to his storm.

Therefor he couldn't risk you being in this state, a flashbang had knocked you all to the ground, deafening ringing, chaos and bloodshed soon to follow. König didn't realize until the damage was done and the smoke had cleared that you were crumpled against the South wall, completely out with a trickle of blood leaking from your ear.

He made some sort of animal-like sound, it didn't even register that he'd never made that sort of noise before until he reached you, crushing and grabbing your vest to sit you up. Your head was limp like a cloth doll, König was graceful in holding you steady, checking your vitals and manually opening your eyes.

"Come in Actual! I need an EVAC immediately!"

You looked so small in that hospital bed, fragile. Foreign.

He knew you as a hellcat, fiery and hot to the touch. Ready to fight or fuck at any given chance. This version of you made him nervous. Scared him. And Colonel König does not get scared.

He checked his watch again, the rhythm of the monitors you were hooked up to only agitated him further, so that meant more pacing, more worrying his bottom lip that tasted of blood. Skin chewed up raw.

König leaned on the end of your bed making it creak under his weight. He could punch through a wall right about now, gnaw on the fucking plaster, rip off door jams and spit out nuts and bolts. Under his watch this had happened and he would never forgive himself. His eyes watered briefly before he pushed off the bedframe, your head wrapped gauze, shrapnel had made little scratches across your forehead and cheek.

Please be okay my darling girl… I can't much anymore…

König stirred awake, he'd picked up and moved the heavy chair from the window to your bedside, crossing his arms and resting his cheek on them as he watched you sleep. Your steady breathing had matched the heart monitor, smooth and calm and that's what had lulled him to sleep.

His back would fucking kill later but he wasn't too bothered. He'd do anything for you.

You made a weird face and groaned, shifting your shoulders before blinking yourself awake.

König's tank had never been so full with relief. He straightened himself up, touching your hand without the IV in it. "Oh thank God mein liebe; I was so worried. How are you feeling?"

His eyes danced over your face as you wet your lips.

"Like shit. Did I get hit by a fucking truck or what?" Your voice cracked and König was quick to jump up and fill a paper cup that was childlike in his shaking hands. He helped you to take small sips.

"Something like that. Unpredictable flashbangs with do that. Lucky we got out when we did."

"What?" You blinked up at him.

"Flashbangs. You know. Poof!" König made an explosion gesture by his helmet. "Nasty things. Effective, but still very nasty."

"I don't know what that is," you paused then and looked around the room with open eyes, clarity slipping through the cracks as you gripped the cup, brows furrowed. "I don't-- where am I? What am I doing here?"

König touched the top of your bed, concern in his emerald eyes. "My darling Ferret, you were injured in combat. Nothing broken but you were knocked unconcsous, we brought you in as soon as possible. Are you--," König didn't want to hear your answer but he didn't like to mess around the bush. Best to rip off the band-aid. "Do you know me? Do you not recognize me?"

You swallowed as your eyes grew glassy. You shook your head.

"Should I?"

His heart broke.

"It's me. My name is König , I am your commanding officer. You and the boys are-"

"Boys? I have boys? Am I mother?! Whose mother am I?" You screeched and spilled what was left of your water as you tossed off your sheet and began inspecting your stomach.

"No no. Calm down Ferret, you are no ones mother. Yet. I meant the boys of the 141, our company, Captain Price, L.T., Gaz, MacTavish… any o' them ring a bell?"

"No. Oh my God… who am I? König who am I?"

You really started to panic then, crying and kicking off the rest of your blankets, your heartrate was increasing alarming fast. König tried to shush you, calm you down, but it was no use, you just freaked out even more. You gained the attention of the nurses who came bursting into the room, pushing him out of the way as you screamed and tried to pull out the iv.

Chaos. König didn't know what to do and it was all a blur until one of the nurses in burgandy scrubs had grabbed his tac vest, forecefully and dragged him to the door.

"Colonel! Sir! We've got this, you need to leave."

Your shouts of protest were terrifying as you writhed on the bed in confusion and pain. There were too many of them, like ants swarming a downed enemy.

"Sir! Please, she'll be fine. I need you out. Now," König only frowned but took the steps necessary. "Do it for her."

The door slammed shut in his face then and all he could do was stand there and watch the blinds be slid down.

….

König growled and cursed something fierce all the way back to his dorm room, boots heavy and reminding him that much more that he would be going to bed alone tonight. With a huff he kicked his door closed, stripped off his helmet and hood. Piece by piece, he tore his gear angrily off, missing the laundry basket altogether.

His bed protested his weight as he rubbed at his face, aware that his gloves smeared what was left of his grease paint and gun residue. He hung his head, tapping his boots when he steepled his fingers beneath his chin.

He squinted down and grabbed a foreign object just by the end of his bed. Little by little, maroon in color lace looked so small in his hands.

It was one of your fancy bras.

König chuckled at the sight of it, a little light in his pitch dark tunnel. Without shame and without guilt, he fisted the light material before shoving it to his nose. It still smelled like you after several weeks and he closed his eyes.

"Bis später!" Had come from his mouth, waving off Ghost and Sergeant McTavish. He was grateful to be in his space, with his things, able to recharge after spending damn near all of his energy bank. If he were part machine, which sometimes he felt that way with how hard and focused he worked; there would be a flashing LOW BATTERY sign on his forehead.

He sighed against the door frame, barely ducking underneath it when he looked up at some sudden movement. He balked. You, you slinky attractive little devil had slipped past the guards, slunk into his room and into his bed. Growing voices made the big man struggle to get his whole body inside to block out your own, slamming the door behind him. Gloved hands still on the knob.

"Verdammte Scheiße! What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you, what does it look like?" You shrugged as carelessly as you pleased. As drained as he was, he always had enough energy for your antics. A bare arm patted the bed next to you, a coy little smile on your face.

"I thought we've talked about this, no? We need to be careful about us." König said as he sat down, taking his gloves off and setting them on the floor by his nightstand.

"I'm tired of being careful, aren't you?" You grabbed his warm fingers, looking up at him.

"Yes but--"

"But what? Whose gonna' stop you? The big bad ex-KorTac boogeyman with the pretty eyes and enough documented kills to make any Narco envious and not to mention that big ol' hog--"

"Shut your face, right now!" König clamped a hand over your mouth, even though he was smiling behind his mask, bashful but a little boosted by your vulgar description. He didn't need to give the base anymore to talk about.

Your wet tongue startled his palm as you laughed, music to his ears as leaned his body against you.

"Oh come on, I'm surprised it even fits. Damn thing is the size of my arm!"

"It is not, stop that." König scolded you, a failed attempt to keep you quiet even though he was enjoying your praise.

"Oh yes it is!" You chuckled and pressed your sheet covered chest against his arm. "You should probably get a weapons clearance slip for that thing!"

"That's it!" König tackled you on the bed, his gear shifting with his weight, pinning you down. You wiggled and laughed beneath him, he silently asked how'd he get to be the one on top of you, making you laugh, smile. Men like him didn't get pretty things like you. He suspected and believed his old KorTac buddies that he'd end up settling for what he thought he deserved. Pocket lint and a sex doll. Not at all the real body of yours, looking at him like he hung the fucking moon and if he you would only keep looking at him like this, make him feel like he swallowed bees, calmed the anger and wolfish tendencies; he just might try it.

König sat back on his haunches. "How long have you been waiting for me?"

His heart stopped with your cheeky answer. "My whole damn life."

….

He dreamt of you that night. Surprised even to himself that he could calm himself down, even after a long and hot shower. He was exhausted. Scrubbing that same dirt and grime, that filth off his skin that stained your own. Maybe it was the emotions of it all, everything cresting, crumbling like bricks in his hands as you couldn't even remember him.

Maybe that's why he cried.

And maybe that's why he slept so good.

He tucked your bra underneath his pillow before he left his room the next morning, safe keeping and all that. He gave the neatly made bed a gentle pat before catching a ride with some very green, very eager-to-please rookies on a golf cart to the hospital.

"Colonel!" He stopped at the distinct voice of Captain Price, he could practically feel the mans' boots on the definitely needed to be replaced tiles beneath his own feet. "Colonel, I'm glad I caught you, old man-"

"I am not old," König squinted at Price's crinkled eyes, lost in a teasing smile. "In fact, you're older by four years, fifteen days and seven hours."

"How do you know that?" John Price paused.

"I read your file." König shrugged. He had a photographic memory, could remember coordinates from a stint in Kosovo, the delicatessen's not far from Vatican City, the look on your face after your first kiss, what color your toenails were that summer on the West Coast with the rest of the 141.

"Very well, lad. I uh just spoke with Y/N's doctors, she's been sedated, had a bit of a rough night last night, so they said. She's awake but nothing seems to spark her memory just yet."

König bit at his lips, he should've been there with you. The thought of you being alone and afraid, scared to death of all those around you being pumped through with who knows what.

"She'll come back to us big man," Price's hand on his arm was warm and the little squeeze he gave him felt genuine. "I know you two are close; just how close I haven't determined but I assume it's a heartfelt one. One that maybe goes a little more than the base and ranks."

"That's none of your business, Captain." König ground his teeth.

"You're right but I should let you know there's a little bet and a rumor going on that it's beyond professional," König straightened his back at that, shifting his weight. "Don't shoot the messanger, but the pot has gotten pretty full and I like winning."

Price chuckled as he walked away, leaving König to think more than just about you.

Your room is quiet expect for the whirling machine hooked up to your hand, your breathing is smooth when he enters, the steady beat of your heartbeat. He knew you were beloved on base and by all the bouquets of flowers, balloons and 'GET WELL SOON FERRET!' cards that surrounded your bed and side tables, he once again felt lucky to even breathe the same air as you, let alone become bedfellows and lovers.

He felt bad he came empty handed.

Until you rolled your head over to see him, a piss-poor attempt to make himself small.

"It's you." Your voice was a little scratchy and he'd hoped it was from a little nap and not from screaming in the middle of the night.

"Hallo mein-- I mean Y/N," your given name sounded strange in his mouth when he cleared his throat and crept a little more into the room. Your eyes never left him. "How are you feeling now? I talked with Price in the hallway."

"It's strange, I know you said the other day that we know each other and when I'm looking at you, like this, I feel like I should," you worried your bottom lip between your teeth, gears working against you as you laid there, eventually staring up at the ceiling. "I feel like I should know who I am and I don't. I should know you, apparently, but I don't. I don't remember anything!" you whined and palmed your glassy eyes, sniffling and huffing and all König could do was worry and reach out to touch your shoulder. "What if I never do? What if I become somebody else?"

"Don't do that, bitte. Please my dear," his gloved hand grasped your wrist and you let him, let him pull down your hands, locking eyes.

"You're taking a page out of my book and you're going to worry yourself sick. You'll come back to us." To me.

He wished and prayed that you would as he stayed with you for a little over an hour before you grew tired and again on his way to the mess hall and once more before bed.

….

"If you get hurt jus' remember lass, this was yer idea to begin wit'!" Johnny said with a grin, wobbling quite a bit on König's shoulders as he reached out to grapple with your hands.

"You know you're a lot heavier than you look." König grumbled through straight teeth, holding on to the Scotsman's' hefty thighs.

The sun was high that day on the Coast, a well needed and earned r&r retreat for the 141.

"Don't tell me you're backing out already, Johnny!" You teased, fitting your fingers through his as you moved on Simon's shoulders in the water opposite of them.

You looked incredible, wet and sandy, smiling as if you didn't just have someone else's blood on your hands three days prior somewhere in Bolivia. You two hadn't even kissed yet, just a lot of sexual tension and flirty exchanges when no one was looking or listening.

"I'm just lettin' you know wee one, I'm not above playing unfairly now."

"We'll see about that, you ready down there L.T.?"

"Ready when you are, kid."

Game on.

The guys joked about never hearing König laugh before, after your successful best two out of three chicken matches in the ocean. He felt insecure about it, covering his already covered mouth from his hood. Ghost and Johnny drank back to back beers while you saddled up next to him with a turkey sandwich and some fruit.

"I like it."

König looked over at you, sitting extra close in the sand as you dug your feet into the sand, a complimentary red on your toes as they swiftly disappeared and you ate a berry.

"Pardon?"

"Your laugh," you said inching closer so your leg touched his. "I like it. You should do it more often."

König scoffed and stole a grape from your plate, tossing it up in the air. "Say something funny then."

"I wanna' kiss you right now."

He choked on his spit and laughed again, to get König off guard was no easy task and yet you were flying through in fucking technicolor.

"Now that is funny."

"Who said I'm joking?"

As you watched your L.T. and Johnny pack up their truck, you had made sure to wave them off and as they turned out of the parking lot, with that same hand you grabbed the front of König's shirt, leaned up as far as those cute toes of yours could tip-toe and kissed him right on the mouth.

….

" 'ow about this one, we're just outside the Museum of Antioquia in Medellín, does this look familiar at all, kid? Anything abou' it? Anything at all?"

"I mean… that's obviously us. It's pretty foggy still honestly… so no."

"Alright no worries, love. How about this one? The Courtauld Gallery, we just had to go according to you to see your favorite painting."

"Am I an art major or something?"

"No. You just appreciate fine works of art I suppose."

König didn't mean to instantly get hard at Ghost's choice of words. He turned his back to you and your visitors, walking, uncomfortably so, towards the window with his hands behind his back.

You had said those same words to him once.

You two had gotten caught in an ice storm and not just any ice storm either, the kind where wherever you're at… that's where you're going be for the foreseeable future. Luckily for the both of you, the safe house had been recently restocked and insulated, thick plastic on the windows ruffled and protested the pounding wind outside. The freezing cold had slithered its icy tentacles through the cracks around the door making the fire you'd built in the little stove flutter and crack.

You only wore your underclothes, tight black thermals under your gear, frost and snow melting off your boots side by side by the front door. You crouched and added a few logs, eyeing him as he came into the living room with two mugs of tea.

He thought you were excited about the warmth from the cups but you had something a lot hotter in mind.

Thermals littered the floor, your whines and cries for more sang beautifully with the crackling fire nearby. You didn't even make it to the bed.

"Oh God König!" you panted against his shoulder as he rutted against you on the floor, creaking under his heavy weight. His cock fit perfectly once he'd gotten you off on his fingers first, it was proper to make you cum first.

He might be a little ruthless and rough around the edges but the man has manners! He rolled his eyes in pure delight when you arched up into his chest, nipples hard and legs trembling, spread enough to fit his frame between them. "You feel so fucking good. I knew you would-- aha just like that baby, fuck!"

Your head thunked against the floor, König was quick to fit one of his hands beneath it, in case it happened again. He had secretly wished it would, if only he could last a little bit longer. Your wet, gummy walls fought and milked his cock like no other, bringing him back in with a soft hug.

"Yeah? You like that huh? I'm practically devouring you, molding you to-o me." König grunted and groaned something in his native tongue before taking a bite out of your neck, loving it as you grabbed at his arms, his shoulders, his thrusting hips when he soothed it over with his gentler kisses.

"I want it. I want you so bad," he shivered at your words, his cock throbbing and threatening to explode so soon. He couldn't help it! He'd been eager for months to just maybe get a smooch from you and yet here you both are, making love on the floor in some safehouse by a fire. "I can't believe you're inside me right now. Why did we wait so long? It's so fucking good."

You whined and moved your legs higher up his waist, your knees digging into his ribs. König grabbed your leg and brought it up further, changing the angle and hitting something deep, so so deep and primal that you literally shouted his name, eyes wild and mouth agape as if you couldn't believe it was real.

Your neck bent to look at where his cock was disappearing, in and out in great, thick thrusts. Words were lost on you as all that came out of your throat was gasps for breath.

"Guess you like that too, yes?"

"YES!"

König barely had time to chuckle at your shouts, begging for more and more, it was all so hot and erotic and when you came he growled your name. He pulled out just in time to cum along the inside of your thighs, tapping the crown of it into his spend, smearing it around.

"Oh baby… you are a fucking work of art."

….

"What about some fresh air, kid? Might do ya' some good, instead o' breathin' in all this medicinal shit." L.T.'s suggestion brought König back to the present, he made a face and adjusted himself before turning around.

Ghost gave him a shrug. It had been five days after all.

"Yeah. Why not? Can't hurt, right?" You agreed. "Will you come with me?"

"She's talkin' to you, big boy." Simon voiced, startling König into a different position.

"Me? You want me to--"

"Will you?"

Simon smiled and left you to get dressed for the outside world since the accident.

König made sure to cover your eyes once you walked out into the sun, you tucked yourself into his side automatically, mumbling that it was too damn bright. He chuckled and kept you close, an arm around your shoulders as you walked the grounds.

"Can I ask you something?" You were picking at your nail beds, a nasty habit you tried to break your Freshman year of college and miserably failed.

"Shoot."

"Are we like… together? Like a couple? Simon and some of the other guys' made it seem like we're close. Like-- really close. Is that like a rumor thing or should I know something that I don't?"

König stopped, his boots kicking up gravel. "It's complicated. I am your commanding officer. Your superior. That would be inappropriate."

"Is it inappropriate or true?" you asked, stuffing your hands into a well worn hoodie. "Or both?"

König sighed, moving closer to you when a group of four young recruits jogged by. "Both."

You pursed your lips and looked around the busy base. The group of recruits that had given him a ride to see you drove by quickly, giving you both a solid but quick salute while a Staff Sergeant barked orders a few yards away.

"Is it serious?"

König cleared his throat and crossed his arms nervously. "The short answer? Yes. The long answer… is also yes."

You smiled brightly and shielded your eyes once more from the sun and from looking up at him. He swore his eyes crossed with how cute you looked, making that squinty face. You seemed content with his answer and started walking again, asking where you two had met.

"Maybe you should ask Soap about all that. Sorry, I mean Sergeant McTavish. Johnny. He sorta' is the reason for us being, well for us being close." König suggested, moving the bottom of his hood out of the way of a thick spoonful of a Rocky Road milkshake just off base.

"Well I'm asking you." You pointed your own spoon at him, apologizing when a few pieces of chocolate flung onto his forearms across the table. "Sorry."

"No worries. I rather like chocolate." König smiled.

"Tell me. Please? It might trigger something useful." You began to pout and oh no you don't, don't you dare tremble that bottom lip of yours. Oh, he could just lunge across this comically small table, break the umbrella above your heads in half and grab you and just kiss you, tell you how much you mean to him, how this limbo bullshit was driving him crazy!

König wasn't a man known for flowery words, motivational speaking and the like but he knew you so it wasn't out of his comfort to explain in detail how you did in fact meet. He talked and talked, milkshakes long gone, fries gone cold but salvaged for a midnight snack.

Once back on base König stopped in the hallway that splits from rank when you grab his hand.

"Can I come with you?"

"Come with me where?"

You swallow and look around the unusually vacant split. "To your room. Maybe it'll help. I mean, if we're together," you hushed and got closer to his side. "Maybe it'll help."

König smiled beneath his hood, wolfish and he knew how sharp his teeth were against the plump flesh of his bottom lip. "Sure. Come on."

….

"These are little… explicit." You chuckle while fidgeting with an old digital camera in his arsenal. The SD card is almost full, he knows this but he can't risk transferring them to another device. He'd stain his career if he got his tablets mixed up and not so safe or savory pictures of you and him together, were to make the rounds. The last thing this place needs is a scandal.

You tilted your head at one, zooming in and then thrusted it at his chest. "This is… are those… zip ties?"

König took the camera and knew exactly which picture you'd landed on. His mouth watered at the memory.

"Ah yes. This is the night you broke me."

"What does that mean?" You asked and sat down next to him on the bed.

A funny little jolt surged through his belly, warming his cheeks and hands as you two looked at the digital screen.

"Um uh well, I was gone on a mission in Copenhagen, it was only supposed to be a two week set up and recon, I could do those in my sleep but there was some miscommunication on their end and long story short I was gone for almost a month," König explained, thoughtfully looking at himself on the screen. "I used the SAT phone to keep in touch. We'd been together a steady two months before deployment and I didn't get a chance to give you a proper goodbye. So I promised you could have me any way you wanted."

"And I wanted to restrain you?"

"You wanted control over the situation. Over me." And you did. "Wow. I didn't think I was the dominant type. Or that a guy like you would allow it."

König barked out laughing, almost dropping it, which would have been devastating, but he managed to fumble it onto the soft mattress below instead. "Oh mein cutie, you are a terror when you get into one of your moods. Trust me. And to be fair; you've done a lot worse."

König was pleased the security officers left him alone for the night, no more nightly checks and lights out for the older man. He'd paid his dues but sometimes some fresh faced recruit would want all their other supervisors to know they'd checked on everyone, including the Colonel himself and Captain Price just a few doors down.

You'd fallen asleep after going over a handful of more photos, some more tasteful then others. Some cute, your smiling face as he slept with his large, scarred back facing you. Candids of König cleaning one of his weapons, examining knives. Holding hands. Your head on his lap. You fast asleep in one of his ratty old shirts. Obscene ones of just how fucked out he made you, gaping and leaking his spend. A few with just his fingers saturated with his cum.

You looked so comfortable and cute all curled up on his covers, hands tucked under your head. He couldn't help himself and mimicked your position as best he could, wincing and apologizing in a low whisper that he was sorry he kicked your knee. You groaned in your sleep and patted his hand.

König didn't remember falling asleep but he was suddenly incredibly warm, hot even, sweating beneath his hood and t-shirt he shifted but felt he couldn't move. He blinked and caught you holding on to him, damn near piggy-backing him. You mumbled something against the back of his head, fingers twitching and grabbing at the thin fabric.

"…König."

He flinched at the way your voice said his name. Hushed and broken, his attempt to turn around and face you failed and you grabbed him tighter. He touched your hands on his arm.

"Y/N it's ok it's me."

"Oh no… where are you? I can't see-" You whined and jerked around behind him. If only you could hear him, see him, feel him try to calm you down from whatever it was you were dreaming out. König was used to fretting and getting himself all worked up into a lather, this time he did manage to roll over, getting up onto an elbow he held both of your hands in just one of his.

"My love, wake up. If you can hear me, wake up, you can wake up now."

Your face pinched and thrashed, your neck craning at a painful angle as if you were possessed until your eyebrows finally released, your fingers unballing and then you opened your eyes. One at a time. Blinking into the inky blackness of the room.

There was just enough light coming the sunlight above König's bed, the angle nice and gentle on your face. You finally looked at him.

He tried his best to soften his eyes, let you know you were safe and in good hands not in the arms of some stranger, which all of the base had been as of late. He let go of your hands when your jugular jerked.

"König."

"Are you okay now?"

"Where am I?" you asked and he cast down his eyes to the rising and falling of your chest. "Am I still dreaming?"

"No. You're awake now. You can pinch me if you'd like."

He waited for your answer before you reached up and cupped his face, touching the masks' edge, circling around one of the eye holes before tearing up. "I believe you, baby."

Oh. Oh. OH!

"Baby…"

You sniffled and König wanted to pinch himself, make sure he wasn't the one dreaming that you'd come back to him. "I missed you."

"Oh mein liebe, you have no idea how much I've missed you." König surged and gathered you up into his arms, hooking his whole arm between your legs to bring you as close to his chest as humanly possible. He smelled your hair, rubbed his clothed cheek against yours. His hands under your shirt.

"How long was I out?"

Your voice was so light and innocent, sitting on his bed with the covers around your shoulders. He'd fixed you some tea, not the exact way Simon had taught him but close enough.

"Almost a week."

You frowned again and König couldn't help but take your hands in his, assuring you it was alright, that you were in the clear and should definitely seek the med staffs' guidance.

"A week?! Oh my God. I've been banged before but not like that."

König attempted to stifle his laugh, chuckling harder after you whacked his arm. "Bitte bitte, I surrender."

"You better! I've been M.I.A. and you're making fun of me."

Your pouting face was so damn cute König moved in front of you after bouncing his thumb on your bottom lip, holding out his hand. "I'm not making fun of you honey, it's just the way you said it."

"Yeah yeah, wait 'til you get knocked the fuck out and we'll see whose making fun then, hmm?"

"You would make fun of me?"

"In a heartbeat." Your sneer and banter held no weight and the both of you knew that. You were back to your usual self, a little froggy sur but you knew who you were, who he was, where you were and what was going on.

The head nurse in the med bay was excited to see you up and walking around, coherent and well aware of what had happened. She checked your vitals, looked at your eyes, felt around your cranium for any undiscovered lumps or bruising from being knocked back against that cement wall.

You were cleared.

She sent you off with a note and a stern 'now get some rest!'. König bounced his legs while he waited next to you, recognizing that she was the same nurse who had tossed him out that first night. She winked at him before letting you both leave.

"God I have missed you mein cutie, my little precious thing." König sang into your neck once back in his quarters, he hadn't let his hand slip from your hip since leaving the nurses station. He held you hostage in his lap in his bed, petting your face and rubbing your arms.

"How much?"

"So so much," König cooed at you, shivering from your touch as your arms circled around his neck, you snuck your fingers beneath his hood, toying with the strands of hair you could tug on. "More than I crave a hunt, a kill. Man or beast. Nothing satisfies me more than you do, my love."

"I know I've been out of it but… does that mean--"

"Oh my dear thing. Bitte! You think my mind was elsewhere while you were coasting through life? Nein nein nein, I put my needs behind yours."

"You haven't… so you must be pretty bricked up then?"

König tilted his head at that. "Not you getting medically cleared and ready for a good fucking straight away."

"She said to get some good rest, did she not?" You bit your lip and twisted the hem of his mask. "What better way then to make sure I'm fully rested then that?"

"My love… don't poke the bear."

"Is the bear in hibernation?"

He chuckled at that, letting you lean forward, pressing your foreheads together, breathing each other in. "It's summer time my dear… the bears are out of hiding."

Your eyes burned into his, as coy and cool as you tried to play it, all your intentions were naked and clear. "Are you going to be my bear tonight, König?"

….

Now usually when you were in one of these moods König wouldn't even bat an eyelash, click his teeth or spit at the thought of tossing you around, fisting your hair and making you squeal. In turn you'd leave marks and brusies only he knew were there, hidden beneath his gear. But this was different. You were in a delicate state, though medically cleared he wasn't about to go about fucking you senseless.

No. You needed to be handled gently.

So that's what he did.

Shimmying out of his clothes while you did the same, reaching out for him he went down easily, caging you in. You hummed and lifted the base of his mask, hiding beneath it with him, stealing a few chaste kisses before slipping your tongue into his mouth. König groaned and crushed his body into yours.

"Missed you so much, my love." König straightened up on his arms, looking down at you with heart eyes.

"Show me. Show me how much you missed me, baby. Bears give hugs, don't they?"

König chuckled, his hood swaying with puffs of his laughter. "My little play thing, bitte. Please. I am not a bear."

"Sure you are big guy," you cooed and moved to grab one of his hands, ghosting it over your collar, on the ball of your shoulder, settling it palm side down on your chest. "You're my big bear, aren't you?"

Oh hell… he couldn't say no to that face. With a huff he gave in, he'll admit it later that is did warm his heart that you thought of him that way. A protector. A caregiver. He'd been chosen to take care of you and König didn't agree with failure.

After a few more kisses he rolled away from you, shushing you when you whined with the loss of his body heat and weight. He curled himself behind you, easily hefting you up and over so your back was to his front, being very careful of his genitals. He calculated how far apart your legs should be, fitting them over his thick thighs like butterfly wings, making you jerk at the cool air hitting your wet cunt.

König carefully began to grope over your body, humming with delight when your hips wiggled, your toes digging into the sheets, your hands barely holding onto your tits. He teased you first, getting you warmed up, snickering as your breathing became labored, looking down your body as he played you like a professional musician.

"Please baby, please finger me already," you keened and gasped when he cupped your entire mound, feeling it pulse against his fingers. "I need to feel you."

"Ah ah ah. Already begging, what a needy little thing you are my love. Are my hands on you not enough?" König taunted, moving both of his hands to spread you open. You inhaled sharply, both of you watching as his fingers inched closer and closer to your clit.

"O-o f course but-- oh!"

He switched his tactics and instantly shoved his middle finger inside you, knuckle deep.

"Aww poor thing is fucking tight. Almost like the first time, ja? Been without for a week and already so slick," König peered over your shoulder, throbbing when he saw how hard you grabbed at your chest, playing with your nipples at his advancement. "You're so perfect."

"I'm so empty, please König, mein König."

"Empty you say? One finger is not enough for you? Nein nein you can handle another finger perhaps, maybe… three?"

You rolled your head to the side, looking back at him, an almost pained expression on your beautiful face. "Bitte."

"Oh fuck." Not you speaking his language.

You didn't make a sound when another finger plunged deep into your hole, holding himself back from just outright making a sloppy mess of your pussy, soak his fingers down to the fucking wrist. No no, he was going to treat you with kid gloves. Delicate work. He pulled them out to the second knuckle before twisting them back in, stretching you out.

Only then did you crack and keen, bucking your hips to take them in even deeper, finding that precious little spongy spot that drove you wild.

"Oh fuck yeah."

"That's what my little cub needed, ja? Should I go faster, hmmm? Get you all nice and wet to take my cock."

"Yeah yeah yeah," you nodded franticly, still squeezing and pinching yourself while he finger fucked you. "Get me wet baby, make me cum. Wanna' cum for you."

"You always wanna' cum for me. Wait until the rest of that pretty little head of yours comes all the way back, oh my love, the things you're going to remember, one should be so jealous. But I am afraid mein liebeling you will not be drenching my fingers tonight. Oh no."

"But I--"

"Tut tut little thing, you'll get to cum. That is a promise. But you will be coming on my cock instead, now roll over, ja like that, there we go. Look at you, I didn't have to explain what I meant. See, that memory of yours is coming back faster than we thought!"

König spooned you, cuddling you from behind and lifting your top leg up and over his hip while he told you to stay still, hold tight, to listen to him as he began guiding and sliding the already pre-cum slick crown of his cock between the apex of your thighs, against your sex, popping and nudging up against your swollen bundle of nerves.

You begged. Oh did you beg, he'd barely pushed it in when your arm came flying back, grabbing the back of his head, molding it to the back of your neck. When you pushed back on him König had to shut his eyes, lost in the feeling of sinking into you again. Grateful. Thankful. Pleasure bloomed as your pussy did around his thick cock.

"You're so precious like this, little thing. Mein cutie, mein sweeetness." König cupped your jaw and had you look back at him, dancing his hips into your rear, splitting you open just a little more. You hiccupped a gasp, locking eyes as you moved together as one.

"I needed this, oh shit did I need this. Several days without you was fucking torture verdammt, squeeze down like that again, fucks sake." "Is my big bear getting close?" You joked, your giggles turning into moans and curses as you gripped the back of his hood even tighter.

"Is that what you want? Want me to cum inside you, fill up your little hole?"

"Yes."

"Oh! What a filthy little thing you are, wishing to be filled up. You know my love," König slapped your outer thigh before gripping it tightly, your skin sagging with the weight they held and brought you even closer, his trimmed short and curlys getting wetter by the minute stuck to your rear. "You keep begging for it I just might have to hold you down and breed you. How about that, hmm?"

The noise you made made him whine against your neck.

"Goodness! Is that what you want?"

It took a minute for your voice to catch up to your nodding head, swallowing thickly. "Yes! Oh my God that's so fucking hot."

"You like that idea?"

You bit your lip and smiled so innocently.

You were so pretty all he could think about was breaking you in half. For a man of König's size and weight, he's very nimble and can move faster than you can think. He had you on your front in a few seconds, hoisting up your hips, dragging you back just enough. "If that's what you want… tap me if it is too much, my love. Promise me."

"Yes."

He slapped your ass. "That's not what I said."

"Yes! Yes I promise."

König smiled when you moved your head and hair to the side, then gave him a thumbs up.

Any position he was in with you felt incredible, the sounds you made, the obscenities' you called out, the grunts and tangled English weaved with German on his end were perfect. But there was something about fucking you like this he couldn't handle, he knew he had five, maybe six minutes tops before he'd lose his shit and bust his load.

You were practically sobbing at the pace, a literal face down ass up situation as you couldn't hold your body up any longer. The hard slap of skin on skin, you were panting and gripping the sheets in your hands König thought for a moment you might just tear the damn thing in half. When you turned to look at him over your shoulder he damn near came right then. Eyes glassy, eyelashes wet and clumped together, lips pouty and full.

Of course you had to bit your bottom lip at him looking like a holy hell mess.

König shook his head and swore in German, lurching over your back, his sweat keeping him glued to you as he lifted his hood and sloppily kissed you. You cried out when he did, wailing that you were close, that you going to cum. König clumsily reached below you and started rubbing your clit.

"Faster faster, fuck that's it. Oh my… König. Mein König!" Your body dropped as you came, pulsing your gummy walls around him, he was pretty much using you as fleshlight at that point. Your body loose and limber, pliant and soft in the best way possible.

"That's it baby, are you gonna' cum inside me? Don't waste it." You drunkenly laughed, pushing back when you got your voice back.

"Oh I'm not wasting a damn thing, my love." König pulled you back once more, angling himself with one foot on the bed, fucking into you deeper. You were lucky he was still being careful because the intrusive thought of really giving it to you, harshly, harder and pushing your face into the bed was not an option. Not this time anyway. "You're gonna' be a good girl and take what I give you, ja? You want my load so badly, so fucking badly don't you? We're not wasting a drop, anything-- fuck you're so wet baby… anything leaking is going right back in. Understand?"

"Yes! I want it I want all of it. Don't take it out don't take it out." You whined and without him even asking, your had crossed your wrists behind you back, giving up control, submitting.

König wasn't lying.

He did in fact spill inside you, throbbing rope after rope into your cunt. König hung his head, panting, counting his heartbeat before he eased his way out of your hole. Mesmerized by the sight of a glob or two dripping out he slowly and very, oh so carefully guided back into you. You squirmed, sore for sure as he looked you over.

"Are you alright, my love?"

The thumbs up you gave him was all the assurance he needed. He chuckled lowly, the ache he felt for you, warmed him through as he smoothed a hand down your back.

[self-indulgent-paw-patrol]

Ask game for Chase?

The pupper ever!! Also two other people asked for Chase while I was already working on it XD I'm sorry it's taking me literally days to get them all done, I'm having trouble to think properly on what to say for some stuff in these

My first impression - I'm not tanking this. His car is blue and white, he's a cop and HIS NAME IS CHASE. HMMMM WHERE HAVE I SEEN THIS BEFORE, OH I WONDER--

My impression now - He's precious. No, really. A+ for effort in everything he does but he should learn to relax a little more, just a liiiiiiiittle more

Favorite thing about that character - He's always willing to try new things out of his comfort zone and he always gives it his best, plus his loyalty levels are off the charts

Least favorite thing - He's too much of a people pleaser Istg-- Chase, sweetheart, you're supposed to be a figure of authority XD And this will sound like a dumb thing to dislike but I dislike the fact he's a German Shepherd. I think it's too obvious a breed for police dogs and he doesn't LOOK like one at all for me. When I first saw him without his gear, I was like "Wait is he a Belgian Malinois??? Omg please yes that would be cool to not have a German Shepherd as a Police Dog for ONCE" but yeah my dreams were crushed quickly on my first Google Search on him

Favorite line/scene - It's not specifically the line, but mostly the scene: Have you EVER seen Chase refuse a job or go against Ryder???

I know he ended up changing his mind after that talk with Ryder, but IN THIS MOMENT, he stood his ground and said NO. It's even in his body language: His ears are slightly back, his expression is serious like "don't even try arguing with me on this", his tail isn't relaxed, his paw stomping on the floor to make his point. Notice his frown even deepens as the elevator door closes just before it goes down. This is SO IMPORTANT to me you have no idea, especially considering how much of a people pleaser Chase is and how he holds Ryder as the most important person in his life. We know Chase would do anything for Ryder. But at this exact moment? He was decided to NOT do something for Ryder. This is such a powerful, yet overlooked and underrated scene, as well as character development. It encapsulates perfectly how there's so much more to Chase than any of us knew so far.

Favorite interaction that character has with another - Mighty Movie Skase moment #2 (I think? I counted at least 4 big moments) when Chase goes to check on Skye when she was sulking on the back of the Aircraft Carrier. Her problems there are totally out of his league, he literally cannot relate to anything she's currently going or went through in the past- still he tries to show support the only way he can at the moment, by being there for her, by listening to her. He's a keeper, Skye, go for it XD

A character that I wish that character would interact with more - Marshall and Zuma. They used to play a lot before, but now...? I'm still at the 8th season and I'm seriously missing those fun and slice of life moments

Another character from another fandom that reminds me of that character - Leonardo, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, specifically 2012 series

A headcanon about that character - I think Chase was one of those kind of puppies who just didn't know when to fucking STOP. 24/7 playful baby. Also a natural explorer, always sniffing everything, licking everything, maybe biting, touching, scratching, growling, barking at anything new for a while. Ever curious, always being the puppy to go ahead of the others, "exploring the waters to open the way and make sure it's safe for the others to come after him". On a second note, I've seen one too many people returning adopted puppies for this reason here where I live, because "they're a handful and I wasn't expecting this" 🤦🏽‍♀️

A song that reminds of that character - "Nothing Can Stop Me Now"

An unpopular opinion about that character - Idk why all the hate, even if you're ACAB, it's not like Chase even does a cop job at all XD Have you seen him arresting someone outside from movie verse? If anything, you'd WANT your cops to be like him LMAO

Favorite picture - Y'know how in the first movie Chase was in absolute awe when he saw his new car for the very first time? YEAH, like, he KNOWS Ryder designs and gets them crazy cool stuff, and it doesn't stop him from getting UTTERLY AMAZED every time. Tbh I had the same reaction as them all when I saw that sick af Mustang-looking police cruiser like HOLY SHIT YOU GET THE COOLEST TOYS-- AND YOU GET TO CATAPULT THEM DOWN THE HOT WHEELS RAMP AT TOP SPEED TOO??? Win for life.

[greenhorn-art]

to catch a sunbeam with white moonlight

Author: orphan_account [this work has been orphaned and is no longer associated with it's author]

Fandom: 全职高手 | The King's Avatar

Rating: General Audiences

Category: F/M, Gen, M/M

Words: 55,720

At a Glory convention, Dai Yanqi meets Ye Xiu who is helping Su Mucheng buy her favorite doujinshi. They surprisingly hit it off as they browse through all the doujinshi about their peers and talk about Glory.

About the book

FONTS: EB Garamond (body text, title), Roboto (body text - electronic), Bebas Neue (title, headings), Alfie (title), Segoe UI Symbol (scene breaks - 'gear without hub')

IMAGES: Sunflower (Rawpixel, ID: 2687359), lightning (Rawpixel, ID:10200699)

MATERIALS: Domtar Earthchoice (textblock - 20lb, cream, 11x17 cut down to 8.5x11), Recollections paper pad (endpapers - Dark Watercolor Florals), Iris bookcloth (covers - Eggplant), Verona bookcloth (covers - Hot Toffee), Ribbon (covers - 1/4", shell grey), embroidery floss (endbands - 209 Very Dark Lavender), leather cording (endbands - 1.4mm), Ceramcoat acrylic paint (painted edges - metallic silver), Anita's acrylic paint (painted edges - 11038 Purple), Reeves acrylic paint (painted edges - Violet & Crimson & Blue Lake, Payne's Gray), waxed linen thread (sewing textblock - 30/3, white), Books by Hand (glue - pH neutral PVA)

PROGRAMS USED: Affinity Publisher (typesetting), Affinity Designer and Affinity Photo, LibreOffice Writer (QR codes), Bookbinder-JS (PDF imposer)

BINDING STYLE: Split-board binding, French double-core endbands

(Belated) Binderary Book 2024

My first year participating in Binderary and I'm 2/2 with my goals, albeit slightly late (even with the added leap day).

Goal No. 1: Bind a book!

This fic is an orphaned work, with no author available for me to reach out to. Convenient, since it was a last-minute decision.

Goal No. 2: Finish typesetting the fic that got me into this whole bookbinding/fanbinding hobby!

Bad Boys JEDI Style is a 217 chapter, 908k word "comedy of errors: in which our heroes are recruited to film a reality holo-drama". Much to my despair, the fic I loved had been deleted from every site it was uploaded to, and I was left kicking myself for not having downloaded a copy from AO3.

Shout out to Kam and Lofe, whose wonderful Binderary demos were put to use in the making of this book! Kam's French Double-Core endbands demo was super helpful, sizing up the 'textblock' and components made it easy to actually see what's happening with the sewing. Loffe's demo introduced me to the split-board binding technique and, sleep-deprived hiccup notwithstanding, I think I might find it easier then bradel style binding! Need to bind more books to know for sure (such a hardship 😔).

In other new-s, I took my dad's recent workshop baby for a spin. The bookbinding plough works like a dream! I tried a hidden fore-edge painting for the first time (just a solid colour), but the purple is lost under the Payne's Gray basecoat I applied to the silver painted edges. Adding ribbon to the cover was also new (mostly due to the fact that I never remember until the endpapers are already pasted down).

On the Design

Cover

This is a Team Thunderclap!Ye Xiu AU, so the cover was based on Team Thunderclap's uniforms from the donghua (from the one screencap of the team I found, see below): purple across the shoulders and forearms of their jackets with a yellow stripe down the centre. I added silver ribbon as a nod to the white of the jackets as well as the grey gear of the team's logo. Also in reference to the title: yellow=sunlight, silver=moonlight.

Title Page

The title page stumped me for a while. While brainstorming title page design ideas, I thought about what the title means. In English it's poetic but nonsensical, so I wondered if maybe it held some meaning in Chinese?

As it turns out, it does. Kind of. Maybe. (If I stretch and reach for it, it makes sense). According to a quick search of one webpage for each query, "'White Moonlight' usually refers to a person or thing that is elusive in the heart, has always been loved, but cannot be touched" or "an 'unforgettable first love'." The sunbeam itself might be Ye Xiu, the figurative ray of light, the hero, the gaming idol. Or 'catching a sunbeam' could refer to how "sunflowers turn their heads to catch every sunbeam."

The potential meaning I have cobbled together is how Dai Yanqi turns Ye Xiu's head and captures his heart by sharing the (SanXiu-ified) story of Su Muqiu, the aforementioned white moonlight. Is this what the author intended? Who knows. But it does seem plausible enough to inspire me.

I ended up using both the idea of sunflowers and Thunderclap's uniforms (again). Lightning referencing the team's logo, and also the white colour of a flash of lightning which is kind of like moonlight. The logo's background is blue, as is the uniform as seen on the cover of the manhua featuring the captain Xiao Shiqin (see below), so I made the background blue-purple.

Endpapers

The (not-actually-)sunflowers carried over to the endpapers, as well as the grey colour from the gear in Thunderclap's logo.

Endbands

Kept these simple. A solid purple, as close as I could get to the bookcloth. I didn't want to draw attention away from the stripes on the covers or the silver edges.

Probably could've gone for thicker cores.

The text

For the scene breaks I used a special character of a gear. The cog also looks like a sun. Which is fun because it can reference Thunderclap, the title (sunbeam), and my design choice of sunflowers.

I reused the lightning image at 50% opacity as a background to set apart the backmatter.

Misc.

Recently, I've begun to increase my efforts of preseving fanfiction and safeguarding the stories I love from purges and takedowns. (Sparked by the December 2023 scandal about Sony announcing an upcoming removal of content including the movies and TV shows that people have purchased).

This fic has been archived via the Wayback Machine at https://web.archive.org/web/20240215155152/https://archiveofourown.org/works/37414021?view_full_work=true.

Also, curses be upon Rawpixel. Since the time that I had downloaded the images, they have now be placed behind the premium user paywall (along with a number of other graphics and elements that used to be free).

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 04/03/2024

Willievan Afton Polkka

Season 8 Featured on: The Joke​-​Explainer 7000​™​'s Highest Quality Rips: Sunrise

Ripped by KnightOfGames

Requested by realchickenmanny! @realchickenmanny

Tentative rip name: Willievan Afton Polkka

One of the most fun parts of keeping up to date with SiIvaGunner is getting to see the rise of new jokes being used on the channel - which weird sources are trying to become mainstay running gags, which feel as if they're failing to really catch on, and so on. I talked about this in relation to Season 8 in particular back with Magolor's Shoppe Fusion Collab, back when the Season had just kicked into gear a few weeks ago, and even in that short time since there's been a few rising star jokes worth considering. One of the most surprising newcomers to me, then, is the very subject of Willievan Afton Polkka: the Five Nights at Freddy's fan song Stuck Inside, by Black Grpyh0n ft. The Living Tombstone.

Five Nights at Freddy's has of course always had a pretty prominent presence on the channel since back in Season 1 with the Circus rips a la Goodbye To Love, where the entire gag was built on how FNAF games lack much of any real music to make rips of. But there's another way this gag has been utilized in rips of the games - by instead using the rips to cover The Living Tombstone's immensely popular FNAF fan songs as if they were official theme songs of the games. The cultural impact these songs have had on many an internet dweller is undeniable: back with Five Dreams at Night 1.16, I covered an example of these using the song It's Been So Long, which currently sits at 312 MILLION views on YouTube. (and, of course, The Living Tombstone's first ever FNAF song was used as the credits theme for the feature film last year!)

All that is to say, that I find the usage of FNAF fan songs - old and new - to be a fantastic fit for SiIvaGunner, as influential nuggets of pure pop culture self-expression on YouTube. Stuck Inside, used by Willievan Afton Polkka and six other rips all released after the start Season 8, is a far more recent song than the nostalgic FNAF songs of old, themed around the story depicted in the FNAF movie - yet even without that nostalgia, it's got an absolutely fantastic melodic hook and creepy, yet ominously cheerful tone to it. After hearing it for three or so rips, I was sold - the team had clearly taken a liking to the song, and I was now amidst the various other commenters noting how fun of a listen it was.

That was, of course, before I went to look up which rippers were behind which of these eight rips. Eight rips using Stuck Inside, made in the span of two weeks - and they were ALL made by KnightOfGames.

And look, KnightOfGames is already one of my favorite rippers, I've admired the earnestness and quality in his output since I first began listening to the albums and connected the dots of who was behind what (plus, in his own words on mlp racism anthem (comix zone arrange - every MLP rip specifically goes through him for approval to ensure peak pony quality!). But this sheer commitment to rendering Stuck Inside in these SUPER distinct styles, making a one-man effort appear like the work of multiple contributors through sheer variety and rate of uploads - it genuinely did make my jaw drop when I found out! All of these are bangers in their own way, but I felt the need to single out Willievan Afton Polkka in particular for how much of a fun escalation it proved to be SO early into the meme's life - it's the kind of rip that I wouldn't have expected to see uploaded until several weeks from now.

Ievan Polkka is of course a very sillycore banger in its own right no matter what you do with it, but the idea to have Stuck Inside's vocals be sung by Miku herself over the former song's backing beat is such a genuinely inspired idea, this clash of old and new internet fandom music that, on the surface appear, like oil and water. Yet the somewhat uncanny cheeriness to Stuck Inside's melody that I mentioned earlier ends up fitting in perfectly, appearing far more sincere and lighthearted in the arrangement as a result - and all topped off perfectly by the use of Moonbase Alpha-like Text-To-Speech clips to match Stuck Inside's occasional squeals. Just for good measure, the rip lastly explores juxtaposing the tonal differences of the two songs, by using the original vocals for a small segment in the middle of the rip, before returning to the good-fun Miku vocals.

Willievan Afton Polkka is, above all else, another release in the long line of excellent vocaloid rips on the channel, much like Rolling Start and As Miku Collides. And much like those two rips in particular, there's a sort of personal feeling to the rip - in part due to how exclusive Stuck Inside as a SiIva joke still is to KnightOfGames himself, but also due to how much fun the guy clearly had in arranging it in a seemingly-bizarre style such as this. There are some mashups and edits that you think of just from hearing songs for the first time, the "surprised this hasn't been done yet"-type of rips, but Willievan Afton Polkka feels like the complete opposite: the kind of out-there rip idea that could only be done by someone who knows Stuck Inside like the back of their hand. That's a level of commitment that I just have to respect - and I hope with my whole heart that Stuck Inside eventually becomes picked up by other members of the team as Season 8 progresses.