#even called her 6 times while she was at work to find out when she'd get home

[tinum]

Longing from the Office - Harumasa x Reader

Summary: Section 6 play wingman for a struggling harumasa Warnings: So much sighing and sitting in chairs, probable abuse of as, maybe ooc, errors Word Count: 2.1k Notes: I'm trying to improve my writing guys so sorry if its bad but also not sorry. Drop a request or don't.. its fine...

Harumasa's longing for you manifested in many ways. Some of which were more embarrassing than he liked to admit. You hardly seemed to notice though, even if he was practically attached to your hip like a puppy.

"I'm going on my lunch now, Tsukishiro." You call out, pushing your chair out and putting on the coat hanging off the back. Despite not even scratching the surface of your work, your eyes are already stained, and you feel the throb of a headache coming on. A break is definitely in order.

"Alright—" She was swiftly cut off by a voice chiming in.

"Yeah, we'll be going on break now, Tsukishiro!" Her eyebrows raise at the man, who was, just moments ago, sleeping.

"Oh? I hope you realize your nap has been cutting into your break time." Her face was serious, but on the inside, she almost wanted to laugh at how obvious he was being. It's something she noticed for a while now, how he glances at you from time to time when you are doing paperwork, completely unaware. The way he perks up when he hears your name in conversation.

"I was just resting my eyes." 

"So you admit you were taking a break?" 

He scratches the back of his neck. "Aha… no?"

She sighs, pinching the space between her brows, "If you're going to take a break now, all of your paperwork better be turned in by the end of the day."

"Whoa, really? Thanks, Tsukishiro! You won't regret this!"

She totally would, but she would regret it more if she didn't allow him to go. Watching him make a fool of himself while you were blind was torture. She'd rather lose a few hours of sleep completing his paperwork than watch another moment.

"Ah, Asaba, we're going on break at the same time? What a funny coincidence."

She physically facepalms, causing both your heads to snap her way. "Ahem… my apologies, there was a… bug. Don't mind me."

"Yeah, pretty crazy. I mean, what are the chances, right?" 

"It's almost like it was fate…" His heart practically skips a beat when you look at him and let out a giggle. "Well, just a silly thought! I'll be going now. Have fun on your break!"

He could only get out the start of his sentence before you promptly turned away, rushing towards the exit. Once you are gone, he lets out the loudest whine of his life. His upbeat posture deflates as he stares at the exit, jaw open. He only closes it when he hears the click of heels walking towards him.

"That was rather painful to watch." Yanagi places an awkward hand on his shoulder as some sort of means to comfort him.

"If you cringed by just watching it, imagine how I feel. I mean, seriously! How much more obvious do I have to get?"

Normally, Yanagi would not concern herself with her colleagues' personal lives, but the sight of his obvious pining and your obliviousness was giving her early wrinkles. "I find myself wondering the same thing." 

Harumasa groans, running his hand down his face in frustration. He turns to Yanagi, places both of his hands on her shoulders, and shakes her lightly. "You see it too? C'mon, you gotta help me!"

She squints her eyes, looking at him, and Harumasa shakes her more, letting out a crybaby 'Pleaseee.' She had already planned on helping him. Otherwise, she would not have walked up to him, but she can't lie; it was sort of fun seeing him fumble so much. Perhaps you were rubbing off on her.

"First of all, stop shaking me." He drops his hand faster than she's ever seen him move when overtime is on the line. "I'll help you—"

"Thank you, Tsukishiro! Seriously, you're the-"

"I wasn't finished," she clears her throat. "I'll help you, but you have to promise me a full week of your undivided attention. In other words, no slacking and no naps."

He deflates, letting out another loud groan. "I should have known it wouldn't be that easy…" His chair rolls backward as he slumps down, throwing his arm over his eyes. "It's hopeless… I'm going to die all alone."

She rolls her eyes. "Fine, you're lucky I'm feeling generous I'll cut it to three workdays."

He immediately brightens up, his posture straight, and he bats his eyelashes at Yanagi. "Really? You'd do that for little old me?"

"No. I'm doing it for Soukaku. She also wonders when you would finally confess."

"Oh… well, what's the plan?"

She immediately zeroes in. Harumasa follows suit, with a serious look on their face. Yanagi slams a piece of paper on his desk.

"Here's what I was thinking."

-----

When you return from lunch, you are greeted with an unusually focused Harumasa and no Yanagi in sight. You sigh as you walk towards your desk; the piles of papers seem never-ending. Unfortunately, the only way out is through.

A few minutes into the first page, you hear Harumasa let out a loud sigh. "This is sooo hard." He whines. You look up at him to see him already staring at you. "You gotta help me with this! I just can't seem to remember!"

"What do you need help with?"

"I cannot, for the life of me, remember what… time! Our last hollow investigation began.."

"It began at-"

"No! I mean, can you write it for me?" he coughs out. "I suddenly feel really sick." 

"I suppose if you are not feeling well… bring it here."

He scoots out of his chair, walking slowly with an exaggerated stagger. "Ah, I feel really dizzy. Can I rest on your shoulder?" He doesn't wait for an answer, rolling the chair from the empty desk next to you.

Your eyes widen. "Dizzy? Should I call in the doctor?" He places his hand on top of yours, stopping you from picking up your phone.

"No, no, I'll be fine." His head hesitantly creeps down, teetering on whether he should commit or not. Ultimately, he does. "I just need a moment."

"Oh…" A quick blush rose to your face as you grabbed the paper, which was… blank.

"Asaba, you—" 

You turn to look at him, expecting to be met with the view of his hair. Instead, you are greeted by his face, which is inches apart from yours.

"Yes?"

"You must be super sick! You gave me the wrong paper!" You fuss, pressing a hand to his forehead. "I'll inform Tsukishiro!"

"No, there's no need," he sighed. "I'm feeling better now." He gets up, walking back to his desk, head hanging low.

"Asaba…" you call out, tone a bit more serious. He turns around to face you, a hopeful look in his eyes. "You forgot your paper." 

"Right."

-----

"That didn't work?" Yanagi asked, her eyes wide.

"No! They just wanted to call you!"

"Hm… Well, they seemed worried; that's a start."

"I guess.." He slumps.

"Perhaps you should take a more direct approach. How about asking them on a date?"

"I practically did yesterday! Sharing a break with someone is a sacred thing, y'know!"

Suddenly, a cheerful voice chimes in, a bit muffled from a full mouth. "Why don't you give them candy!"

He looked at the Soukaku and then at Yanagi, who was deep in thought, muttering under her breath.  "Yes, that could work." Yanagi finally says, pushing up her glasses. "Why don't you give them a gift?"

"That's perfect! You guys are so smart; what would I do without you?" 

-----

The following day, you are greeted with a bundle of violets on your desk. It was certainly a strange gift. There was no note, just the flowers wrapped in heart-shaped plastic. You look around the room, noticing it was empty.

Maybe a fan left these? It wouldn't be surprising, considering they sometimes stand outside the building waiting to catch a glimpse of Section 6, but if it was from a fan, how could you know if it was for you? They definitely would not know which desk belongs to whom unless they were in the building. 

You shiver, throwing the flowers in a nearby bin. Then you grab your phone and call Yanagi. Not today, stalker.

What you didn't know is that Harumasa was watching in the nearby printer room. A card in his hands.

-----

"And then they threw them away! Right in front of me!"

"Hm, that is troubling…"

"I'm beginning to think they just don't like me."

"Cheer up, Harumasa!" Soukaku smiles, hugging him. Yanagi stood in front of the desk, her eyebrows furrowed.

"I don't know what to do anymore." He exhales, standing up.

"Have you tried telling them directly?" Everyone snaps their heads to the source of the voice and is met with a pair of dark ears.

Harumasa's head drops back down, defeated. Walking to the door in an exaggerated slowness.. "Nah, I think this is it. I can take a hint."

-----

"Asaba likes you." You sputter on the water you had been drinking, causing your shirt to get wet.

"Miyabi!" You nervously laugh, drying your shirt with napkins from a nearby table. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Asaba likes you."

"Oh! Well, I like him too." Walking back towards your desk, you smile. . "Speaking of which, where is he? I haven't seen him or the others at all today." 

"No. Asaba likes you as more than a friend." She stops right in front of your chair, and you have to look up at her for the first time.

"Me too! He's pretty much my best friend!" Turning away from her, you gather a few papers left on your desk. "Miyabi, I have to go run these to another department. If the others come back, let them know that's why."

Miyabi watches as you walk by, letting out a sigh of her own. She know knows why Yanagi and Harumasa had been sighing at you these past three days. This was more difficult than she expected. Usually, a simple approach does the trick; less is more, after all.

"Well, that's it. I'm officially done." The other three members walk out from around the corner, a crushing look on their faces. He falls back on his chair and Miyabi is surprised it hasn't collapsed by how many times he has done that. "I'm sorry, Tsukishiro, but I'm gonna have to break our deal to sleep my sorrows away."

Soukaku speaks in a tearful tone. "Harumasa…" 

"It's okay, Soukaku.. Sometimes things just don't work out how we want them to."

She grips his hand and jumps up with determination. "No! You can't—" She pauses, tears welling in her eyes.

"Miyabi, have you seen the other pa-" You stopped in your tracks. Everyone was surrounding Harumasa's desk, sullen looks on their faces. 

"You can't give up your crush on—" She manages to get your name out before a hand on her mouth silences her.

All four of the members stare at you with shocked expressions. No one dares to speak up or move, too worried they might scare you off.

You stumble over your own tongue, a deep blush rising to your face. "Asaba has a crush on me?" and before Harumasa has the chance to ruin things for himself, the three other members speak up.

"Yes!" Their tone was almost annoyed. After all these attempts this is what it took? They aren't one to smoke but they'd be lying if they said they didn't need a cigarette right about now.

"Harumasa, is this true?"

He lets out a deep breath, "It is." Alright, here it comes; he's going to be rejected and—

"I like you too!" 

"WHAT?" You had to be kidding him. This whole time, he was trying to get your attention with gifts and outrageous gestures, and all it took was for you to overhear a conversation? He's pretty sure you just triggered a heart attack. Maybe he should retire, yeah.. that's what he'll do

"I like you too, Harumasa. I have for a while now."

"No way! You turned down all my advances!"

"You didn't make any advances?"

"Yes, I did!"

"No?"

"Yes? Remember that time I asked to go on break after you did?"

"I thought that was just a coincidence."

"What about the flowers?"

"You didn't leave me any flowers."

"I left violets on your desk, and you just threw them away!"

"I thought they were from one of those creepy fans."

"Miyabi literally told you how I felt!"

"How was I supposed to know she meant it romantically?"

Harumasa resisted the urge to tackle you. You were seriously spiking his blood pressure with your absurd reasoning. How could someone be so incredibly smart and dumb at the same time? He's not sure the gods could even answer that.

"You're so lucky you're you. I'd be running for the hills if it was anyone else."

"Does that mean you guys are dating now?" Soukaku asks, not a single thought behind her eyes.

You look at Harumasa, and for the first time, he knows what he must do. "Let's try this again. I have liked you forever, and now I know you do, so… can we date? Pretty please?" He asks that question with such enthusiasm that you're sure if he had a tail it would be wagging

"Of course, silly! All you had to do was ask!" Something clicks in Harumasa once he hears you say that.

Oh. You sly dog. You knew this whole time, didn't you?

[lesbianpuppygirl]

Yandere Butch Lesbian Boss x Fem Reader

You work a part time job at a small pet supply store, tidying the products and cleaning the animal's cages.

Your manager Dahlia (or Dahl) is an irritable woman. She tends to be short with your coworkers and obtuse customers. However, she has never once yelled at you.

Dahl has an imposing frame. She stands just above 6' and has a true bodybuilder's figure; her muscles softened by a good layer of fat. Dahl is an older butch lesbian with dark eyes, short curly hair, and an elegant hooked nose.

Early in your employment at the pet shop, you'd been warned by your coworkers, in a light-hearted manner, to be careful of getting on Dahl's bad side.

In spite of this, Dahl treats you like a beloved lap dog. Your mistakes are never as severe as others, and she even takes the time to reassure you when you become upset at yourself.

Dahl holds obvious favoritism towards you. Praising you for simple tasks and calling you her good girl.

Dahl first became enamored with you in your first week. You'd coo and talk to the mice while changing their bedding, make sure to tell Dahl good morning/evening, and smile to yourself whenever a dog walked into the store.

The catalyst of her obsession was at the end of your first workweek; you'd brought her homemade cookies to thank her for the job.

Although this certainly wasn't her first experience with hospitality, something about you- you standing there with wide, hopeful eyes as you handed her that still warm container, nervously telling her how she seems like a good boss and how thankful you are.

She saw you as a delicate thing, someone she must protect and praise. She just couldn't find it in herself to be upset at you in the way she would be at your coworkers. If you made a mess it didn't matter. In Dahl's mind, you should be pampered and relaxing all day- anything more difficult than that was an accomplishment in her eyes, and she'd never blame you for falling short.

When you told Dahl that you were attracted to women as well, her heart swelled with hope. And thus her plan to whisk you away began.

You're just a sweet little thing, someone who needs a big strong butch to take care of you.

Every time you smiled at her, rushed to her aid, or asked for her help, she fantasized about swooping you into her arms and taking you home.

One windy day, when it was too dangerous for you to bike or walk home, she offered you a ride. As you sat in her passenger seat, calmly looking out the window, she stuck you quickly with a needle, causing you to pass out.

You wake up with your ankles tied down to her bed, her anxiously sitting at your side.

Dahl? Why is she here? And where are you? Why don't you remember going into this bed? You wipe the sleep from your eyes and go to sit up, only noticing the ropes when you feel their resistance against you.

Still groggy from the sedative, you whimper out in confusion and growing fear.

"Wha-where am I? Dahl, what's-what's this?"

You tug on the ropes for emphasis, looking up at her for help. She makes no move to untie you, instead dropping to her knees beside you and grabbing your hands.

Her expression- hopeful and scared- makes you scramble away.

"Da-Dahl? Did you - why aren't you untying these? Please tell me you didn't- Dahl-"

Tears fill your eyes as you frantically search her face.

Dahl stands up and pulls you into her arms, petting your hair and holding you tight.

"Shh .... shh ... It's alright, sweet girl. I know, I know, it's okay,"

Dahl pulls back, her hands framing your tear streaked face.

"I know it's sudden, sweetheart, I know. I'll take good care of you. I won't keep you trapped here, I promise. I just- I just need you here, alright?"

You sniffle, and decide, in the haze of overstimulation and stress, to nod.

Her face lights up. Dahl sits on the bed and pulls you into her lap, laying you against her muscular chest.

"Oh! Oh, I'm so glad! I was so scared, sweet girl. I'm sorry for doing it this way, but I'll make you happy, I promise."

Maybe, you think, this wouldn't be so awful. Dahl has always been kind to you, being cared for by her, being loved by her, must feel as nice as her kindness does.

You rest your cheek against her chest.

"You promise I won't be here forever? I can see my family and friends?"

Dahl's expression softens, she presses a kiss to your forehead before speaking.

"Of course, sweet girl. Oh, my sweet girl, you can do whatever you want as long as you're with me."

-------

thank you for reading!! I hope other people like this and that it isn't too self indulgent lol. this is my first time actually creating a character so I hope it's not too bad

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 13 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warning(s): derogatory slurs! several of them!

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10 / chapter 11 / chapter 12 / chapter 14

It was Friday. The last day of school, the night of the talent show, and just a few days before Christmas. They'd be passing out the candy cane-grams. There'd be some assembly, probably.

Your leg jittered restlessly while you tried to focus on your bio paper. What kind of sadistic fuck assigned an essay on the last day before break? The biology teacher, apparently. He had a superiority complex, you were sure. Allergic to happiness.

Your mind kept drifting back to the photo album. Surely, Regina had it. You'd put it in her locker on Wednesday, so she'd have found it first thing Thursday morning. You hadn't dared to take a peek in her locker, afraid Gretchen would sniff you out again.

Something had clearly gone down between them. Gretchen didn't sit with them at lunch, instead opting for her boyfriend's clique. She didn't seem to fit in too well and Jason didn't seem too pleased to have her there. Karen and Regina sat by themselves, conversing casually.

Cady had been banished somewhere. You'd heard talk Aaron had dumped her. You knew Janis and Damien weren't talking to her after she turned her back on them. Since the whole Kälteen bar shebang and the subsequent smear campaign Regina had doled out, she hadn't been exactly welcome at any table. From what you understood, Gretchen and Cady were on speaking terms, but Karen and Gretchen weren't, but Cady and Karen were. It was all terribly confusing.

You had a table for yourself. Some of your old friends crowded the ones nearby, quite pointedly not sitting with you. You were no longer cool, it seemed. Easier to focus on your paper, you told yourself. The cafeteria was serving chilli today. The slop was slightly too watery and the meat was a mystery, but it'd do. You'd run out of food at home. You'd wanted a goddamn Christmas dinner and a good slab of ham got pricy. Couldn't rely on Mrs George for a feast this time around.

"Hey," Someone called near you. You looked up, surprised somebody was talking to you. A boy, more specifically a jock judging by the varsity jacket. "You good?"

"What?" Your brows furrowed. "Yeah?"

He smiled smarmily. "Cool."

And he walked away. You kept looking as he went, staring after his back. His buddies were looking your way, the same kinds of grins on their faces. That was odd. Didn't bode well.

It didn't take long for you to find out why. The period following lunch was when Damien would be visiting classrooms as Santa Claus, handing out candy canes.

He walked right up to you with a grin hidden under the fake Santa beard, wiggling his eyebrows all the while.

"The whole bag..." He drawled. "Impressive."

Confused, you peered into the sack. A couple dozen candy canes filled it, apparently all for you. You picked one out, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach as well as the snickering of the boys in the back rows.

Dyke. The message was just one word. It was clearly assigned to you, your whole name displayed proudly. Your body went numb, hands holding the candy limply. There was no signature to show who they were from. People were staring at you. Damien had lingered awhile to see what'd been written to you. The grin behind his beard had turned into a shocked scowl.

"What... What do they say?" Cady, of all people, the nerve of her, asked. She was seated a few rows from you.

"Alright, Mr Leigh, thanks for-" Ms Norbury tried to intervene.

"Dyke." You read out loud. Then you pulled out another. "Lesbo." And another. "Carpet muncher." The boys had trouble holding in their laughs. Another. "Queer." There were others you didn't deign to read out loud. Freak. Pervert. Degenerate. Homo.

If not for a few people finding all this amusing, it would've been dead silent in the classroom.

"These were supposed to be checked before handing out." Ms Norbury strode up to you and promptly confiscated the candies. Her face was set, expression severe, as she regarded Damien sternly.

"I- that wasn't my job. I don't know how, how they would've..." You watched Damien try to put it together.

"Well, is it really offensive if it's true?" Dylan, if you remembered correctly, piped up. He was a sporty guy, decently popular but nothing special. Now, though, he might as well have been an A-lister with how utterly low you'd plummeted.

Murmurs spread out around you. Damien and Ms Norbury retreated to a corner of the classroom to figure out how in the hell this had happened. People were looking at you. Your skin was crawling. It couldn't be Janis who told. She was in the same boat as you and she didn't have the power to do something like this. To make the committee ignore hateful messages meant some strings had been pulled. The only other person that knew, that could realistically do this, was Regina.

You bit your lip, closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Okay. You got the message. The album had been too much. This was a sign to stay away, to forget all the sentimentalities you'd had.

"Hey, calm down now, we'll figure this out- hey!" You didn't pause to listen to Ms Norbury when you booked it out of the stifling classroom. You couldn't bear to be there any longer.

You hid in the bathroom. Both hands held against your mouth so you wouldn't make a noise, you cried long and hard. Your breathing was choppy and laboured, and in no time at all your nose was blocked off entirely. Your eyes stung and your vision blurred.

The bell rang and pretty soon people came into the bathroom. You refused to get out, pretending to take the longest shit ever. It didn't take very long for the people coming in to discuss what had gone down in one of the junior calc classes.

It spread like wildfire. You were pretty sure the boys had nicked some of the candy canes from Ms Norbury since you could hear people reading the notes out loud, the rustling of the plastic covering.

"Who even is that?"

"Who cares? A total freak is what she is. Oh my gosh, Steph, do you think..."

"What?"

"Do you think she used the girls' bathroom? She's probably spread her diseases all over the seats! We're all gonna have gonorrhoea!"

You wanted to sink into the ground and never see daylight again. By the time the bell rang again, signalling the start of the next period, the rumours had inflated and grown disproportionately in severity.

Apparently, you were riddled with sexually transmitted diseases, preyed on freshmen and sold them hard drugs, behaved creepily in locker rooms, and had had a stint with Cady Heron while she was still with Aaron Samuels. You guessed that last one had to do with the time you'd dragged her into the janitor's closet to yell at her about the Kälteen bars.

In short, you were fucked. Your life was fucked. You'd hoped, so hoped, that even if you wouldn't get everything you wanted, you'd get some. You wouldn't get a high school girlfriend, wouldn't have slumber parties, wouldn't be normal. You wouldn't be Regina's friend. Fine. At least you could've had a quiet life, gone to community college and worked at the shop, had some buddies, and maybe lost your virginity one day. Not even that now. Not even a little bit of that. Your future in this town was just no longer there. You had nothing. You were nothing.

You skulked out of the bathroom once you were sure there'd be nobody in the halls. You got into your car and drove home. Just as you'd slumped down onto the couch, the house phone rang. Groaning, you went to answer. If it was your dad, missing it would mean there'd be hell to pay.

"Hello?" Your voice was croaky. It hurt to talk.

"Hi, sweetie! You don't sound too good." Mrs George's chirp greeted you. "I assume you had to leave school 'cause of that. I just happened to see you drive by. Rick got called to work last minute and Kylie's got tutoring till late. Come keep me company?"

"I'm not feeling too well, I'm sorry..." You said, holding the phone to your ear while your other arm wrapped around your body. You tried to breathe deep and not burst out crying, again. Your eyes felt swollen shut.

"Oh, I'll come by with some soup, then," She sounded so genuinely concerned.

You bit your lip. Tummy rumbling in its emptiness, you decided now would be as good of a time as any to bite the bullet.

"Actually, uh, if it's not too much to ask, and um- I-" You took in a shuddering breath. "You don't have to say yes, it's totally okay and I'm sorry if this is, like, too much-"

"Sweetpea, just ask." She chuckled.

"I don't have any food. Or, like, I have ingredients for Christmas 'cause I wanted to make dinner for myself, but I guess I forgot I have to eat before then too?" You tried to laugh, but the sound was strained. "Um, could you take me to the soup kitchen downtown?"

You could've driven yourself. You could've, in that you were capable of driving yourself, but with how your vision was impaired, how your body ached with loneliness, and how you weren't sure you wouldn't just impulsively drive into oncoming traffic, you doubted you would've survived the trip.

"No." She said bluntly. You flinched, feeling the refusal like a knife to the gut. "No, absolutely not. We are going grocery shopping and getting you food to last the rest of the damn year. I'm picking you up."

"Mrs George, I don't have money-"

"You shouldn't be spending your hard-earned money like that. Doesn't your dad send you enough to cover utilities?"

"He sends me grocery money. I gotta pay for gas and stuff on my own."

Mrs George's resounding silence spoke volumes of her opinion on that. "I'm coming to get you. I'm buying you groceries and then we're gonna meal prep. Okay?"

"Okay."

When Mrs George saw you, her determined attitude shifted to that of maternal worry. You fought hard not to break down, though all you really wanted to do was curl into her and cry your little heart out.

She drove you to Whole Foods, a place way out of your budget. But she insisted, so there was little you could do. She took you from aisle to aisle, prattling on and on, chatting about this and that. You listened mostly silently, humming here and there.

She picked out a lot of canned stuff, like beans and tomato purée. All that stuff was made to last forever, so you wouldn't always have to buy fresh ingredients. She bought all your favourite snacks, which she somehow remembered. When you commented on that, she just pointed at her temple with a knowing grin. Mothers never forget, she'd said.

Once you were all done, the cart was quite literally overflowing. The total nearly made your stomach drop out of your ass. Mrs Geoge simply flashed her black card and, without even a wince, paid the price. The receipt was, like, three feet long.

Carrying it all to her car was a daunting task, but a worker did come to help you. A young man, probably home from college, was all too eager to carry the bags for Mrs George.

The way he was blushing all the way up to his ears, the way she was amused by him but not receptive, made you think about what Regina had said months ago. You'd been on your way to her nail appointment and she'd gone on a tangent about how women died at menopause.

Mrs George was thriving. She was above it all. Her worth, or mortality, wasn't determined by the men around her. She'd been cheated on, continuously neglected by her husband, and put down by her teenage daughter, and still, she was beautiful. She existed independently.

In short, you were right and Regina was wrong. You saw things how they really were. She saw things tilted to the left, through a warped lens. The confirming of this brought you no comfort, she'd already ruined you and there was no redeeming herself after this, at least not for you.

"Phew, what a trip, right?" She nudged you with her elbow as she buckled her seatbelt.

You nodded along, voice still weak. You buckled in as well.

"I'll pick you up for the talent show." She said as she turned away from the parking lot. "Oooh, we should have a night in. Order some pizzas and slob around the couch. How's that sound?"

"I don't think I should go to the talent show."

"Oh, why's that?"

"Just... Something happened at school. I don't wanna go."

Mrs George frowned and glanced at you. "Honey, you know you can tell me anything. I still think you should come."

"Everybody hates me." You faced the window and crossed your arms. Very mature.

"I'm sure that's not true." She sighed. "I'm not supposed to tell you, but Regina's got something prepared for you. I think you should go see her at least."

Your face twisted in anger. "Something prepared for me- like she prepared something for me today? I don't fucking think so."

"Language." She said and you grumbled. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing. It's nothing." You rubbed your hands down your jeans. "It's not gonna be good. She's gonna humiliate me."

"It's supposed to be a surprise, but I can guarantee that she's not going to humiliate you."

"What do you know?" You turned to her with narrowed eyes.

"I've been hearing her practice, is all." She responded, tone much too light.

You studied her face carefully. "Fine."

She smiled, seemingly relieved. Then, as if to cut the tension in the car, said:

"Oh, and by the way, I'm filing for divorce." With a giddy smile on her face, she blurted it out. You just stared for a while, almost suffering whiplash from the sudden change in topic.

"Uh... Finally." You laughed a little as you said that.

"Yeah!" She laughed with you. "It's been a long time coming. I just needed to sort some things out. Emotionally and financially. I had to get rid of some investments so I wouldn't have to pay alimony."

Your jaw dropped. The Georges were, like, filthy rich. Rich beyond reason, excess income to a ridiculous degree. You'd always assumed it was Mr George's money. How archaic of you.

"I... I kinda wished you'd done it sooner." You looked forward again. She was driving carefully since the snow made the roads prone to ice.

"Me too. The girls... They... I thought that having two parents would be the most stable, safe environment for them. I was wrong."

"Yeah." You swallowed. "Um. Since we're, like, just saying things. I'm, by the way, gay. Like, a lesbian."

"That's wonderful, honey!"

"Yeah." You couldn't say you agreed.

"Should we go get you a haircut?"

"I don't need to look any more butch than I do."

"I don't know, I think you'd look dashing." She feigned light-hearted. "Regina might like it."

"Mrs George!"

Notes: More drama! Yay! Do y'all think Regina did it?

Taglist posted separately. Please comment on the taglist post to be added on there :)

[theangelsheardyou]

Everybody talks abt the bakugous adopting toga, now get ready for: the togas adopt bakugou

They adopt him when he's around 5 years old, after an accident with his Quirk awakening heavily injures his mother, putting her in a medically-induced coma. His father isn't capable of taking care of a child after that, and katsuki is sent into foster care. Part of him has given up on the idea that his dad would ever take him back, but the other part is clinging onto the hope that his mother would wake up and find him. Wherever he is.

The Toga's foster Katsuki for a few months initially, which turns into a full year. Himiko, about 6 years old, likes the idea of having a new little brother.

(I've heard theories before that Himiko already had some other unnamed siblings since she's described as "the oldest daughter of the family" but to keep things simple let's just say she was an only child up until this point.)

(Also, I don't know whether this is canon or not, but while Himiko is her first name, we aren't sure if Toga is her real last name. But again, to keep things simple, let's just say that it is.)

Katsuki was a tough nut to crack, or maybe he would be if his foster parents ever really tried. From what we see in Toga's backstory, I assume they're not really there for their kids emotionally. As long as they eat three meals a day and have a roof over their heads, they've done their jobs, or at least that's what they think.

Katsuki and Himiko are left alone a lot. Maybe their folks are always busy at work or just didn't spend much time with them. Either way, the two become closer as the only kids in the house.

Now, canon Katsuki would probably be really judgemental about Himiko's gorey interests, but in this AU, he has literally almost killed his mother. He's in no place to judge and he knows that. No matter what crazy infatuation this girl has, it's got nothing compared to what was practically a murder.

Katsuki's a little more closed off at this age, kind of like in the canon storyline, but at age 5-6. Having lost his parents, his friends, and being put in some stranger's home, he's not the type to really show off anymore. He's hard to get to know, but Himiko never stops trying.

Despite everything, a bond begins to bloom.

Katsuki and Himiko are inseparable. They do little kid things like Katsuki going "watch this!" Before doing something cool and making sure his sister gets to watch, and Himiko cheers him on like he's just done the most amazing thing in the world. And to her, it probably was.

This is where Katsuki's show-offiness begins to bloom again. He loves showing his sister all his achievements. A perfect score on a test, an award from the sports festival at school, no matter how big or small he shows it to his sister who always cheers him on and encourages him to keep going. He works hard to get better at school, does well in sports, all to get his sister's attention, which she gives generously. She loves watching her little brother succeed in everything. Everyday she's so, so proud of him for something new. She's proud to call him her brother.

Katsuki's personality rubs off on Himiko, too. She starts to get a little competitive, especially when the two play against each other. Be it badminton, tennis, or even just a game of tag, these two are unstoppable. And there's never a sore loser because one will always be proud of the other no matter what the scores are.

Himiko also rubs off on Katsuki, more than she'd like to admit.

I don't think canon katsuki was ever the type to be grossed out or queasy about gorey things. He'd probably find dead animals on the side of the road and call his sister so she could check it out too. As they get older, he brings along a camera, so he can take pictures of all the bloody details for her to examine later. By now Katsuki has been legally adopted, though there still isn't much of a bond between him and his new parents. They are proud of his achievements of course, but they prefer to show him off at parties like a showdog. He prefers Himiko's way of showing her pride in him way more. It feels more genuine.

Katsuki and Himiko aren't exactly delinquents, but they do get into trouble a lot. Katsuki has grown to be a little more violent due to Himiko's influence, enjoying seeing the blood burst from someone's face when it comes in contact with his fist. After he beats someone up, he likes to take a moment to examine his handiwork. A broken nose, a black eye, a tooth landing somewhere, he finds joy in it. He's definitely more of a bully in this AU, not out of anger, but out of pure bloodlust.

At this point he hasn't heard much from his dad, but he visits his mom at the hospital now and then. He gives her updates on his new life, tells her about Himiko, and all his achievements. Part of him doesn't really think she'll ever wake up again. But another still clings onto the hope.

Katsuki and Himiko are middleschool outcasts. Weirdos. Freaks. They don't have many friends, but they have each other, and that's what counts.

Katsuki is still very into heroes, but he let go of the idea of ever becoming one. The shame from his Quirk awakening has left him afraid to use his own Quirk for almost ten years now. It's Himiko that encourages him to use it, calling it a beautiful ability that should be shared. It takes a while, but by graduation, Katsuki is dead set on becoming a hero. Not for money or fame, but for his sister.

Katsuki has also been very supportive of Himiko's interests from the beginning. In fact, he encourages her to become a nurse. After middle school she starts studying medicine, and by the time Katsuki's at UA, guess who's Recovery Girl's cute little sidekick/apprentice.

Himiko gets a front-row seat to all of Katsuki's high school achievements. She cheers him on from the sidelines as he wins the UA Sports Festival, while also treating all the poor souls who fought against him. This is actually how she meets Ochaco. A real meet cute.

She gets angry at how the awards ceremony went, and even got Recovery Girl to use her status at the school to speak to the teachers on her behalf. She's still pretty ticked off by the time they get home, and tells Katsuki to throw the medal away, but he doesn't. He keeps it in his room. It's a symbol of the first time in his life that someone aside from his sister acknowledged his abilities, his Quirk, as a good thing. Aizawa's speech during his fight with Ochaco was proof. After that, he follows his teacher around like a lost puppy, and in turn Himiko does, too. Now he's got two little blonde kids tailing him, and he just gets used to it at some point.

Katsuki's personality is a lot less angry and more a...weird kind of friendly. He got like, half a cup of bimbo-ness from Himiko, as well as a couple of her more tame friendly influences. But he does sometimes get a little too close, and asks questions very bluntly, sometimes offending or making people uncomfortable. But considering 1-A is just a mosh pit of weirdo high school kids, they all get along just fine.

Katsuki and Izuku reunite at UA. It was actually Izuku who approached him. Having missed all the middle school bullying since Katsuki was in another school at the time, the same one Himiko went to, he's a lot more confident. The two have a grand reunion and become better than best friends. They, along with Himiko and Ochaco, hang out together a lot in and out of school. It gets to the point that Ochaco gets a little too happy when she gets injured, knowing she'll get a free pass to visit the cute nurse at the infirmary. Izuku gets to join Himiko on the front row to all of Katsuki's victories, which assigns him as Vice President of the Katsuki Fan Club instantly.

I have so many more ideas for them and I kinda wanna draw/write more about it, so tell me what you think! If this gets very little attention my shyness and short attention span will probably shift me to something else😅

[major-comet]

i think the thing that's so interesting to me about locus and sharkface as counterparts to wash and carolina is that they're not just simple foils that compliment/contrast each other.

they're like, their ghosts of christmas yet to come. making wash and carolina face off against people who they both came very close to being, and only didn't because the reds and blues showed them a better way. they made good enough choices to change their future, and avoided that fate. and conversely - and they really nail it home with wash/locus in particular, but wash and lina both serve as reminders of what locus and sharkface perhaps could have been had things turned out just a bit differently. if locus had ever decided to question felix and his general orders, if sharkface had made peace with the loss of his friends and laid down his quest for vengeance.

wash stopped blindly following orders and learned to put his faith in other people - namely by trusting the reds and blues when they offered him church's armor and a place on the team to hide from the UNSC. if he hadn't, it's very likely he would have gone back to jail and potentially ended up on the same prison transport that felix and locus found sharkface and price on - we’ll assume for the sake of this hypothetical that the rest of the reds and blues still made it to chorus without him. still as cold and calculating as he was as recovery one before the reds and blues softened him, but with a deeper anger like we saw in 7-8. mad at the reds and blues for not just returning epsilon and getting him into this mess, furious at carolina for showing back up now, after all this time - after the meta has been dealt with, after all their friends are dead. showing again, as he did in 7-8, that he’s willing to do whatever it takes to earn his freedom again, no matter the cost.

carolina found some sense of peace with everything that happened to her and the other freelancers, and accepted that nothing she did to her father would bring them back or make it right - she'd only be left hollow, knowing that he could be added to the list of people whose blood she had on her hands, and that certainly wouldn't make it better. with the director out of the way before that peace had been made, she wouldn’t have known what to do with herself - she’d just be aimless, and it would be even harder to find rest than it was previously. revenge is a common theme in carolina's arcs, and while I wish they had maybe eased up on it a bit as the show went on, I still really like how it's reflected back at her in season 13. and part of what's interesting about sharkface is that he's honestly kind of epsilon's foil, too - partially just by virtue of being with carolina all-throughout season 13, but let us not forget that epsilon is easily motivated by revenge as well.

obviously wash and carolina have aspects to them that make locus and sharkface work as counterparts to the both of them - carolina certainly knows what it's like to blindly follow orders, and wash absolutely knows what it's like to get overwhelmed by a desire for revenge. but the foil pairings we did get are parallels to what I would call their main journeys across the story arcs we meet them in - wash with 6-8, and carolina with 9-10 (but mostly 10)

and all of this is particularly fascinating to me because that's not the case with felix and tucker. felix and tucker are more classic general foils. they fucking hate each other, and contrast each other well and even compliment each other with some of their similarities. but never when watching the chorus trilogy do i ever get the sense that if things had gone just slightly differently, they could have been each other.

part of what I always find so intriguing about thinking of evil mirror characters (a la star trek) is trying to envision what went differently to make the evil versions of the characters turn out that way. but in imagining those evil versions of wash and carolina, we don't have to wonder - the show makes it very clear to us that they'd have ended up like locus and sharkface.

[nobody-viii]

The Turks - Context Clues (The Kids Are Alright)

@accala posted an excellent inquisitive post about the Turks here and their motivations and to add some The Kids Are Alright: A Turks Side Story book context, imma leave this here. Couldn't find the quote I was looking for, but here's some things I found interesting. NOTE: I feel like Advent Children did the Turks a little dirty, but I really loved the banter as a kid. This book has some of the same campy shortcomings, but take it or leave it, here's what I found.

1.) The Healen Lodge from Advent Children was an R&R facility for Shinra, universally accepted as the worst one by employees. The Turks/Rufus chose it for its tactical advantages, but it also shows how far back on their heels they were. "The Shinra empire had ruled most of the world up until two short years ago, and it didn't sit right with Elena that the company president had to live in such a desolate place. Yes, medical treatment was available, security was way better away from the city, and the commute was only two hours by car; the staff could have had it much worse." - pg. 14

2.) The abandoned rec hall was being used by Shinra as a lab to convert SOLDIER stimulants into geostigma treatments. The project was Elena's idea, with the resulting medication being donated free of charge to city medical professionals and the WRO. (pp. 16-17)

3.) Reno & Rude were sent into the city to retrieve a stolen item from a teenager (read the book for details I'm too lazy to go into it), and when he started crying and shaking, Reno and Rude switched to a new script. "Aw, look. The kid's really scared." The redhead sounded sympathetic now. "That's what we came to do," the bald one pointed out. And: "Now, we put on our best tough-guys acts on the way over, so we can't just leave without roughing anyone up," said the redhead. "Our job is to teach a lesson to anyone who tries to mess with us." I was still scrambling for an explanation to give them. "Y-you mean, kill me?" was what came out instead. My voice even cracked for good measure. "That's one way to teach a lesson. But we're trying to strike a balance for Shinra, here. We want everyone to love us and maybe be a little bit scared. Killing you would have the opposite effect." (pg. 23) Reno opted to punch the kid in the face, then tell him to keep his chin up, so...balance? Sure. Shinra is, at this point, technically trying to figure out their PR while simultaneously leaning on old habits. Also, the kid calls Reno and Rude a knife and a fork and I thought that was funny.

4.) Reno is described as someone who looked like he 'turned delinquent as a teenager and never grew out of it, like those kids in the Sector Eight warehouses who I still hated and admired in equal measure.' (pg. 23)

5.) Elena roughs up one of the protagonists, but reins herself in when context is presented: She'd paid a visit intending to break Fabio's dominant arm, but when she saw him fight back to protect the child, she changed her plan. Her objective was to punish a thief, not deprive a child with geostigma of his only guardian. (pg. 47)

6.) Reno calls a doctor for the guy he roughed up. Kyrie nodded. "I figured, these guys must have phones, so I asked them to call Dr. Drake. 'Evan's in a bad way 'cause you guys beat him up,' I told them. And guess what? They said they don't know any Evan. So I lost it and said, 'Yeah, 'cause Evan's the one you whaled on when you mixed him up with Fabio. You owe him..... So then the redhead--his name's Reno--he called a doctor. Not Dr. Drake, he said, but a good one..." (pg. 55)

7.) Evan (the protagonist) is trying to work out who would be the easiest Turk to try to forge an alliance with and we get a glimpse of how the Turks are perceived by outsiders (Tseng is an unknown entity to Evan at this time): The most dangerous one was probably the lady Turk who went after Fabio. A close second would be the slab of muscle out there, Rude. Maybe the redhead Reno was more on our level. I thought back to my first impression of him--the grown-up teenage delinquent. Guys like that generally looked out for their own. A sense of solidarity. There had to be an angle I could work. (pg. 57)

8.) There's a whole scene where Evan and Kyrie try to ambush Rude. They choke him, break a chair over him, kick, scratch, the whole shebang and he just brushes himself off and manhandles them to a car (which made me laugh).

9.) Reno and Rude take the protagonists towards Healen in a truck and there's a few moments I found interesting. "So anyway..." Reno was looking at me in the rearview mirror. "Sorry about the shiner, dude. We totally did think you were Fabio. But y'know, I'm impressed you stayed mum and protected your buddy," Reno went on. "Even if you were about to piss your pants." (lol) Then, "Some of us have been slower to to adapt to the new way of doing things," Reno continued. "How many Turks are left?" asked Kyrie. "Can't tell you. That's Shinra's most closely guarded secret." "It's just you three, isn't it?" "Not telling." "But I'm right." "Yeah, you keep thinking that." (pg.63) Rude sleeps through the majority of the ride despite Reno trying to keep him awake. They talk quite a bit about Aerith, because Kyrie and Reno both knew her. Reno warns them not to get mixed up with Shinra's science department.

10.) Evan gets introduced to Rufus for the first time after believing the former president has been dead for two years and Tseng finally exists in this book for two seconds. "He's alive...?" Evan was still speaking to Reno. "I am. The decoy who took my place is not," Rufus replied. "You're a candidate for the position--and from what I can see, you'll do." Evan's jaw dropped, and he stared agape at Reno, then Rufus, then Tseng. Tseng looked down at the ground, trying to hide his laughter. Evan's description of Tseng: He looked like a Turk, too. The very definition of one, in fact. Reno and Rude both showed an awkward humanity--well, sporadically in the latter's case--but this guy was pure ice.

11.) An ill-conceived escape attempt by Evan and crew sees Rufus temporarily kidnapped, as Tseng and Elena are investigating an explosion. Reno and Rude try to stop it, but are ordered back. "Reno, stay back!" Reno obediently halted. I had expected to see fury in his eyes, but all I say was sorrow. Surprisingly, I felt a pang in my chest, too. But there was no other way. I pulled Kyrie's knife from my pocket and opened it--a sad, flimsy little blade, but it could still slice open a throat. "Hey, don't be stupid." I ignored Reno and held the knife to Rufus Shinra's neck. Then, "Reno, take Rude and check on the lab." Suddenly Rufus was giving orders. "Tell Tseng not to get involved here." "Wait, what? Boss, are you sure?!" "Don't worry. I'm as interested in staying alive as you are." Reno reluctantly descended the stairs, glancing over his shoulder almost every step. (pg. 77)

12.) Reno and Rude talk about family and have a lil tiff. "If I found out about a brother I'd never seen, I'd make way more of an effort than those two," Reno insisted. "That right?" Rude said. My colleagues are all I need. "You're not much into family, eh, Rude?" "I'm a Turk," Rude said flatly. "Coolheaded and cold-blooded." He turned and headed for the truck. "Hey, Rude. You pissed at me?" Reno called, an unabashed whine. "C'mon, man. You can't cold-zone me now. Tseng and Elena aren't answering my calls, and the boss just tells me to finish the monument. I know they're starting something awesome without us. We're outcasts! Me and you, you and me. If we don't stick together, then what?" Rude looked back. "Tseng isn't answering calls?" (pg. 94) Reno goes off several times throughout this book about how he'd act if he got the chance to meet family, which makes me wonder about him. "So how'd it feel, meeting your brother?" "I don't think it's sunk in yet." "Well, it's a process, I guess," said Reno. "But you gotta visit once in a while, you know? Then you'll get to figure each other out. Break the ice." (pg. 97)

13.) Reno and Rude are actually partially responsible for the monument in the city. This lil bit kinda gives weight to how long they've been in Shinra. Evan was one of those types who wasn't quite grounded in reality but was full of bravado. A show-off. A scared kid determined to buck people's expectations by pretending he had no fear. And if he kept it up, he was gonna do something stupid enough to get himself killed. Both Reno and Rude had known too many kids like that, from rookie Turks to infantrymen to SOLDIER operatives wet behind the ears from mako infusion tanks.

14.) Reno & Rude get amused by Kyrie treating them like they're not scary. The concern over redemption makes an appearance. "Now what?" Rude stepped closer from his vantage point. Apparently, he'd been watching the whole time. He was pretending he didn't care, but inwardly, Reno was convinced, Rude was intrigued by every act of the farce. Which only made the whole thing funnier. "She said she's hungry," said Reno. "So she's gonna grab something to eat." "It's like she's never heard of the Turks. It's almost refreshing," Rude remarked. So this is what happens when Shinra wins hearts and minds. Reno chuckled again but then remembered that the girl was still afraid of them. He'd seen the goosebumps on her arms. Her toothless threats were her way of gauging the danger he and Rude presented. Evan might trust them, but not Kyrie. Despite what Rude said, she knew what they were and what they were capable of. "You know," said Rude. "She reminds me of Aerith." "Yeah, I was thinkin' that too." Maybe helping them out will redeem us, at least a little bit, he thought. A guy can hope. (pg. 106)

15.) Shinra's resources are thin...and that chopper that ate it in AC was one of the last ones left (cue gross sobbing because in the words of a certain Puppy, Shinra makes good stuff). No one knew exactly how many helicopters the Shinra Company used to have. Within a half a year of Meteorfall, many of them had been looted. Accidents, mechanicals, and other circumstances had taken out others, and now Rufus Shinra and the Turks were left with only three. But even with so few, it was a constant battle to keep them in working order. Also, Rude has mechanical experience and is the one on repairs.

16.) A civilian points out the flaws in Reno's hopes for the future of the Turks. "Well, to be honest, maybe my opinion of you guys is changin'." Doyle looked at Reno again with a level stare. "You're up to better things." Reno couldn't help averting his eyes. Unless it came from a fellow Turk, approval tended to make him uncomfortable. "The monument and the medicine are only one step, you know. Just wait. It might take a while, but Shinra's gonna get off the ground again. Rise again, you hear?" That general idea had been floating around in his head for some time. This was the first time he'd said it aloud. "How?" Doyle scowled, his thick eyebrows lowering. Reno cursed himself for the thoughtless comment. "Can't tell you." "Yeah, I figured. But no one is going to let a violent regime lord it over them again. Not anymore. You tell your president that."

17.) Tseng and Elena bring up the notion of inviting old Turks back into the fold. "For any one person, finding it (Jenova's head) may well seem like a futile task. But there is still a nonzero chance. Either way, staying in contact with our agents and meeting regularly are essential to maintaining organizational cohesion." " But how many...?" Elena glanced around and spoke in a stage whisper. "How many former Turks can we expect to help us?" In his mind, Tseng saw the faces of the old Turks, his former subordinates. Of those, he had made contact with-- They get interrupted and Elena rushes off to investigate something. Tseng watched his operative go with a wry smile. Below the hem of her sundress, old scars marked her legs. Once you joined the Turks, you were in for life. Even those who tried to get out and build new lives could be summoned back with a single phone call. Maybe it was a cruel call to make, Tseng thought. and he sighed.

18.) Reno & Rude defy a direct order from Tseng. "Dumbass," Reno muttered. "What are you waiting for? Engage!" Tseng's command rang from the speakers. "Evan's down there," Rude answered in Reno's stead. "He's already done for," said Tseng. "Fire." "No can do," said Reno. "Reno." Tseng made his name a sharp rebuke. "He's our friend." "Fine. Let me briefly explain--" Tseng's voice abruptly cut out. "Radio trouble," Rude mumbled, his hand drifting away from the radio's master switch.

There are a lot of quirky, funny, violent, or neato moments I didn't list, so check out the book if you want more insight. Hope this gave you some headcanon fodder.

[the-one-and-only-taffie]

Yo yo yo! Back at it again with more Prime Diamond drabble and headcanons!

This came a lot later than I thought it would but YAY IT'S HERE NOW!

Unlike the last post, these will be organized in order of silliest to saddest with titles! Just cause!

Anyway let's get this trainwreck of a crackship out of the station! Docks? Whatever. Let’s go!

Timeline Clarifications

After much thought and consideration, I decided to have this ship take place at most 10 or less years before the events of Transformers One.

I wanted to put a big emphasis on White Diamond's loneliness and social disconnect, and I felt having them be together for the equivalent of 10 years to be the best. If she were to have been in Iacon for much longer, she'd have more time to adjust to the environment and culture and I really want her to be an overconfident nervous wreck. Also, the additional drama of Sentinel realizing his kingdom could crumble at any time as energon begins to run out while dealing with a wannabe therapist breathing down his neck is really funny.

Besides, for beings that live for thousands, if not millions of years, a decade is the equivalent of a 6 month relationship. That may not sound like a long time, but it doesn't take long for a toxic relationship to leave you drained and broken.

There are also other reasons, but those are for me alone to know (they are Steven related so that is particularly important).

Midsommars One

Realized this a while ago but White Diamond and Sentinel Prime’s relationship is essentially a less sympathetic, more abusive version of Dani and Chris’ from Midsommar. Luckily for Sentinel, it doesn’t end with him being Freddy Fazbear Pizzeria Simulator’ed. Or would he have preferred going out like that?

Sentinel Prime gets Pavlov’d lmao

I remembered this one Tumblr post about op giving their crush his favorite candy, so whenever he saw them he’d get excited and then get confused as to why he felt that way. I definitely think White Pavlov’d Sentinel, but instead of treats, it’s with chin kibble scratches. So after a while of her doing this, whenever he sees White, he looks all excited and expectantly at White and waits for something only to go "Wait... Why tf am I so happy to see her?" and then continues on with what he was doing. Very stupid, don’t know if Transformer psychology would make this possible, but I think Sentinel is dumb enough for it to work.

Don’t put em in a karaoke place dawg

Sentinel isn't a bad singer, but he has that same pop sounding voice that sounds good on radio but lacks any real emotion or range behind it. Basically Justin Bieber.

White is voiced by a Broadway actress so we all know her singing chops.

I think it’d be funny to stick em in a karaoke bar and watch em try and sing a romantic duet only for them to start singing over each other and end up competing. Bless the poor spark in the audience who Sentinel points at to ask whose performance they thought was the best. No matter what the bot answers, they will be wrong.

In regards to the meme

White Diamond calls him by all sorts of pet names, including Cybertronian, Gem, Human, and random nonsense ones she makes up on the spot.

Sentinel gets really annoyed by those quickly, as he finds them immensely cheesy. He doesn’t even know what most of them mean.

Sentinel only really calls her the basic stuff like "dear", "sweetie" and occasionally the more affectionate ones like "sweetspark", "my Diamond" when they're in public.

In private, he just defaults to White, or he calls her by her full name if he's really not in the mood to deal with her (either from exhaustion or he’s pissed off at her).

He does call her pet names, but only when he wants to be on her good side or, on rare occasions, when he does want to express affection (mostly so he could get her affection in return).

They talk a bunch of shit about other people

That’s it. That’s the headcanon.

One of the main ways they bond is redirecting their criticisms and resentment of each other onto the innocent bot walking past them who didn’t buff that morning.

White believes her “critiques” are for the bot’s sake, to help improve them and make them the best they could be, and for Sentinel to absorb and internalize for the sake of his own betterment.

Sentinel doesn’t delude himself into thinking he’s being noble when he tells his sparkmate all sorts of cruel rumors he’s heard about others, sprinkled with insults about their appearance and passing judgement on their life choices.

Their shit talking is the primary way White gets to know all the other bots in his inner circle. She tends to know the embarrassing thing they did 20 cycles go before she even knows their designation.

It ain’t exactly romantic, but them ruthlessly talking shit is where their compatibility really shines.

White likes to watch Sentinel sleep

Yk how Pearl had a habit of watching Steven sleep? Well, she got that habit straight from the very same diamond primarily responsible for the production of pearls!

White insisted on sleeping in the same berth as Sentinel because she's heard that's what normal couples do. They both know Gems don't need sleep, but Sentinel decided to humor her anyway (he thinks he's great at cuddling, he isn't). White Diamond ended up hating it.

She just couldn't get into the zone or quiet her mind, and Sentinel’s frame was not forged for snuggling. She just ended up getting bored and gave up trying. White can't understand how a living being could just... lay there and do nothing for hours straight. Talk about inefficient.

Welp, at least she could pass the time gazing upon a pretty face.

When Sentinel came online, he was met with his darling on his bedside just staring at him. Saying the Faux-Prime was creeped out would be an understatement. He not so politely asked White to never watch him sleep again and to not bother trying to do coupley shit if she can't commit to it.

White did just that... as far as he knew. Every night, she sneaks into his room after he falls into recharge and then leaves right before he comes back online. When not watching him, she snoops around his room and reads through whatever data pad she could get her hands on.

Airachnid knew his boss' gf kept doing this. She never tells him because she finds it hilarious. She did know to put an end to it when White crossed the line and began rummaging through his things. She sternly, almost threateningly, tells her to quit it. White actually obeys… but continues to watch him anyway.

White has her own room in Iacon Tower

When White was getting settled in on Cybertron after being taken on a tour of Iacon City, Sentinel showed her to the habsuite she will be staying in for the duration of her stay.

The Diamond greatly appreciated having her own space and immediately got to turning it into a home away from Homeworld.

She decorated the room with all sorts of crystals and whatever kind of flora she could get her hands on that were reminiscent of her home planet. She even got a few of the drones to remove the berth and replaced it with a zabuton at the very center for her daily meditation and a yoga mat for, well, yoga.

White adored her habsuite perhaps a little too much, as her hikikomori habit came back at full swing and she ended up isolating herself in that room for multiple solar-cycles.

Sentinel only realized her absence when an assistant asked him about her whereabouts. After the novelty of having a beautiful, giant alien woman visiting his city wore off, he straight up just forgot she was living there now.

The Prime panicked and searched high and low for his gem, only thinking to ask Airachnid where in the Pit she was long after he had his drones sweep every corner.

Airachnid simply informed her boss White was in her habsuite the entire time. Sentinel asked why she never mentioned it before, to which she responded “It has been sitting in that position without ever recharging or refueling for solar-cycles. I found that to be a good enough reason to continue surveillance… and I wanted to know how much longer it'd stay in there for.”

Sentinel gently knocked on her habsuite door to respect her privacy, but when he was met with no answer, he asserted his authority as Prime and came in anyway. He was met with the Diamond sitting with her legs crossed with a peaceful look on her face, fully zen. White asked Sentinel if he’d like to meditate with her for a couple of minutes, to which the Prime flat out declined and dragged her out of her room.

Since then, whenever White wanted to be a recluse for a bit, she’d let Sentinel know. She tends to isolate herself when she’s overwhelmed, anxious, or on the brink of mental collapse. As long as she didn’t have her breakdowns near his newly polished statues, Sentinel was A-OK with that.

Sentinel Prime glad his gf is a sentient mood ring

Having to deal with the Quintessons was such a hassle for the Prime. They only spoke in weird clicks, growls, guttural noises, with the occasional blowing hot disgusting steam directly on his faceplate to display displeasure, dissatisfaction, and anger. After years of paying his debts to them, he has gotten the hang of their animalistic communication style, so when White Diamond popped into his life on a Thursday afternoon, he was none too pleased with learning the ropes of how to communicate with *another* alien.

Luckily for Sentinel, White could actually, like, speak. With words. Amazing! Yet her preference for speaking in vague, cryptic, and melodramatic ways may as well have been like speaking in another language. However, parts of her face changing color whenever she felt any strong emotions was quite convenient to the Prime, and especially appreciated.

He only found out when he was showing her off to the other Iacon elites, and she felt so much pride she literally started glowing. Everyone was staring, and when Sentinel noticed, he asked if she was ok, which she simply responded “Hmm? Oh, my apologies.” and immediately turns it off.

Since then, Sentinel noticed that every strong emotion she felt had a corresponding color. White became redder than cinnabar whenever she was enraged, streaks of blue trailed from her eyes when she felt sadness, her cheeks bloomed pink whenever she was flattered and intensified whenever she was flustered or embarrassed, etc, etc.

Of course, the emotionally unavailable clanker used this convenience as a cheat sheet to avoid having to actually, you know, understand her feelings, and instead sets out to keep her color scheme monotone.

Only exception is when Sentinel actively tries to make White blush. He finds that rather cute (and so does his subjects).

I think he’d really get a kick out of seeing in real time how he has such a strong influence on another person’s emotional state. White isn’t a fan but becomes used to it as she finds the unique way she displays her emotions embarrassing. She’d even say he’s doing her a favor in avoiding embarrassing herself and her beloved in public.

She's literally the light of his life

Speaking of glowing, I imagine whenever Sentinel is trying to read a data pad and White is being all nosy, looking over his shoulder, but her light makes it difficult to see the text so he asks her to tone it down and she dims it.

Then when Sentinel has to go into a room or building that is low on light to save on energon, White offers to brighten herself to help him find what he needs.

At some point, Sentinel doesn't bother turning on the lights; he just asks White to accompany him. She appreciates being useful and loves how he actively seeks out her company, even if it’s just to find a data pad or navigate a dark corridor.

WHITE DIAMOND LIKES MINERS???

I bet if White were to ever encounter, meet, or see the miners of Cybertron, her questions would multiply tenfold (after squealing about how cute and tiny they were, mostly because they resembled the Bismuths and reminded her of Pink).

She notices the sheer difference in size compared to the Transformers and asks Sentinel if the cogless bots existing are a result of the Energon no longer flowing freely as it did in the past. She makes a connection to how Era 2 gems had to have several of their abilities (like shape-shifting) significantly reduced because without Pink's essence, they had less of the proper resources to create new gems with their full intended abilities.

Sentinel immediately answers with a short, curt, yes, and doesn’t elaborate.

The more questions she asks about the existence of miners, the more vulnerable he is to having systemic bullshittery exposed. She also asks why there aren't many of them in the same places Sentinel takes her to. He explains that to get the Energon everyone needs to survive, they must spend most of their time in the mines, so they have no time to go to the fancy galas, expensive restaurants, and exclusive events. He then jokes they'd drag dirt and debris everywhere and really ruin the ✨️aesthetic✨️

He conveniently leaves out that even if a miner would like to attend, they wouldn't be allowed to.

White Diamond expresses how she'd like to meet a few of them, but Sentinel discourages her by saying she already distracts him from his work way too often, she'd only be a hindrance to the miners who need to be fully concentrated and focused for their dangerous jobs.

A part of me wants her to sneak into their barracks with a Cybertronian miner disguise to interact with them, like what Pink initially intended with her Rose Quartz disguise. But I doubt she is a fan of shape-shifting for the simple reason that she only wants to look like herself and has no real desire to change that.

Instead, when she sees them on her strolls, she makes sure to greet every bot she lays her eyes on and thank them for their hard work. The miners appreciate the recognition. Sentinel is annoyed that he has to stop every couple of minutes just to satiate White's curiosity enough to keep her from digging.

BREAKING NEWS: Dictators don’t make good boyfriends

Sentinel never let's himself be genuinely vulnerable and loving towards anyone. Not because he's afraid of letting people in. Just because he doesn't want to be "weak" for someone.

He views love as an act of submission. To show love for someone is akin to conceding control to said person. If all the bots under him love and adore him like a god, then Sentinel loving and adoring White would be an indirect admission of viewing her as superior to him. We all know in his perfect world, he has ultimate control over everything and everyone, and no one is above him.

The only reason why he bothers getting into relationships is because he wants the benefits of being loved (attention, companionship, emotional labor, intimacy, status and ego boost) without sacrificing anything (vulnerability, trust, effort) in return.

An egotistical, narcissistic dictator only wants to be in a relationship as a method of reinforcing his own grandiose view of himself at the expense of his partner? Who is surprised?

His “submission” could be easily bought, though. The Quintessons are especially aware of this. Give him a gift, shower him with unearned praise, and he will tell you he loves you like he has to pay rent the next day.

He views relationships as purely transactional, so if he does something nice for his partner, he fully expects to be reimbursed and repaid in full, plus interest.

Inversely, he hates being indebted to his partner.

They could have given him a flower out of the kindness of their heart, and he’d be pissed, because now he has to pay them back with a bouquet.

Do this enough times, and he becomes genuinely resentful and annoyed. Wdym Sentinel Prime has to return his partner’s affections. Isn’t his presence enough??

On a funny note, further along in his relationship with White, he starts becoming genuinely fond of her, which makes Sentinel act like he’s losing some weird one-sided battle and gets really butthurt about it. Even says it’s “lame” and “corny” how he actually looks forward to spending time with White whenever he finishes his Prime duties sometimes lmao.

White Diamond has no real concept of theory of mind.

Theory of mind is the ability for humans to recognize that other humans have their own thoughts, feelings, and opinions that influence them and have thought processes that differ from themselves and others. This develops as children and evolves into the empathy that allows a social species like ours to relate to one another and forge deep connections.

Since White Diamond is a classic narcissist, not only does she lack empathy, but also the theory of mind necessary to develop said empathy. In Era 3, she literally allows other gems to inhabit her body and mind so she can understand them and their emotions better because she is unable to do that on her own.

However, because she still has this self centeredness to her, she has the implicit belief that she has an influence on everyone's emotions, thoughts, and actions. As in, she thinks the world revolves around her, and with enough time and effort, she can change anything.

How this relates to Prime Diamond is that she has trouble understanding why Sentinel acts the way he does, especially with his more morally dubious behaviors.

She thinks if she tries hard enough to "teach" him how to be better, he'll simply... become better. But it doesn't work like that because Sentinel is his own autonomous being who won't bend to her will now matter how genuine White is about making him a better bot.

So when Sentinel continues to be an ass despite all the work White puts in, she gets frustrated, then upset, then defeated. She laments why she can't get through to him and that if she were better, Sentinel would become good. She believes if she wills it hard enough via choosing the right words or pressing the correct buttons, Sentinel won't be the asshole we all know him to be. But no sentient being works like that.

She doesn't understand that Sentinel has his own motivations and personal stuff going on that drives him to act in ways and do things she would never even think to do. No amount of advice and pep talks from her will ever be enough to change him. So when he does do shitty things, she blames herself for not being good enough.

[blkbbyprincess]

$upa soaker! yuki.t x blk!reader nsfw

you loved a lot a things about yuki, matter-fact you loved everything about this woman; from her beautiful golden blonde hair falling just above her breasts, and her perfectly sculpted abs that you would see with sweat dripping from them after an intensive workout of hers, all the way down to her pretty pink pussy that she'd let you eat every once in a while when you begged; but one thing you hated was how much she worked.

she didn't put her work over you ever, but it was because she was on call so often that it seemed you rarely got to enjoy each other's sweet company. you understood what it meant to be with her, and the things that you'd both have to sacrifice but if course, you never loved her less even when those sacrifices started to take effect.

depending on if she would have a twelve or twenty-four hour shift, she would come home to you most likely finishing up making breakfast, or soundly sleeping with faint music coming from the living room, while being in nothing but a nightgown; too tired to even take off your makeup and put on a bonnet.

this was one of those shifts where she came in to find you sleeping; taking up space across your shared king mattress with legs sprawled in opposite directions. there you were, as stunning as ever, tucked in neatly in your shared bed with a heated sleep mask on.

yuki bit her lip looking at you as she began to take off her shirt and pants to reveal herself in just a sports bra and somewhat loose shorts. yuki hated coming home and not taking a shower before she loved on you, but all she planned on just eating you out real quick before hopping in the shower afterwards.

easier said than done yuki.

you were a pretty heavy sleeper so not much would disturb your beauty rest. yuki already knew this though, because she's secretly eaten you out before without you waking up solely for her own pleasure, just for you to wake up minutes later feeling that certain tingle and sensitivity down there making you wonder did you fall asleep while masturbating while yuki wasn't there, just for her to be in the bathroom smirking as she licked around her mouth.

this time she wanted you to wake up and feel her inside of you with her fingers and tongue as you reached your high and released into her mouth. she was already drooling just thinking about how it'd play out; if yuki had a dick, she'd definitely be hard right now.

folding the comforter back to reveal you in a gorgeous state of bare faced beauty, and a pink and gold moo-moo that traced your curves so accurately even under such thick material. the position you were in made it too easy for her to part your legs to reveal your small secret; no panties! right then and there she felt as if she had the energy realistically to give you 100 orgasms; she should definitely try, but after about 6, she's knocked out before you.

"well, fuck me." she whined

she couldn't take it anymore; crawling onto the bed and laying her body down, resting on her elbows, nose and mouth coming close to your core while her feet hanging of the bed, kicking back and forth with excitement like she was a teenager in a vape store.

she took a few sniffs of your cunt before sticking her tongue put and shifting upwards for it to make contact with your pretty pussy. about 30 minutes went by, and before she knew it, she was lost in your taste, not even realizing that you were wide awake trying to hold in your moans while biting your lip; finally gaining the little bit of breath you had to say something.

"y-yu, when did you get b-ah! shit right there!"

you didnt even realize you were egging her on to make you nut before she slurped up a soul snatching orgasm from your body, making your feet twist and curl in an unimaginable way; you couldn't believe she had you panting like a dog. yuki looked up at you through her lashes as she licked her lips. "oh hey mama, you finally woke up." she said after still having her arms around your thighs squeezing them occasionally to tease you.

"don't look up at me like t-that, d-did you eat me out to wake me up?!" you looked over to check the time and confirm that she indeed just got off work about an hour ago. looking back at her licking her mouth and fingers like she just ate a rack of ribs off the bone.

oh yeah, she sure ate something off the bone.

responding after cleaning up her hands in a rather lewd way,

"yup, sure did, want another one?" she always knew how to make you flustered and all hot in the face without even really trying. without even realizing you involuntarily clenched your legs back together with utmost pleasure, and that was all the response she needed for the night.

"looks like i need to give fat ma a little more attention, huh?" all you could do is look her in her eyes as she looked you in yours letting her decide for you; besides, the most you could do at the moment was to sit there and look effortlessly beautiful for her.

"just sit there beautiful, i gotchu." was all she said before she used her elbows to prop herself up to get on her feet and go to her side of the bed and crouch under for a moment, just to

come up with a red nike shoebox in her hands before she propped it on the bed.

you knew this shoebox oh too well, just the thought of her handling you with some of the stuff inside was already making your stomach churn inside and out. you bit your lip once more trying not to seem desperate and let a whimper escape them.

she turned the box around and opened it with a devilishly handsome smile, while her eyes looked up at you through her lashes. "your pick princess, i promise we’ll have a time regardless.”

yuki guessed she wouldn't have to take a shower alone tonight after all; she probably wouldn't even have to ask, because after tonight, you'd follow her there.

[dtrghost]

closeness and proximity part.5

pairing: ghost x f!reader

synopsis: callsign is sunshine, because you're anything but. team 141 thought ghost was bad? at least they could crack a smile out of the guy from time to time, you? you were stone faced, all day, every day. until one day you're not, not with a certain someone anyway.

warnings: inaccurate military language and sequences, mega angst, allusions to mental illness (reader has sociopathic tendencies) you get the gist. violence, torture (reoccurring themes i know), angry ghost cause yes. FLUFF. YAY. Sexual situation to gain advantage over the enemy.

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT:

word count: 3.7k

Simon sat with his team, his eyes trained on the seat she'd sat in when she was there last. It had been a week. A long, gruesome, week with her still out there. He was tormented each night by nightmares, some where he followed through and killed her that night, others where he had saved her, only to wake up to the harsh reality that he didn't.

He failed. She was gone, and she may never come back because of him. They cleared all the bases that came up on their radar, and for once he was glad she was such an asset to HQ. They had all available teams looking for her, Price being at the forefront of the search.

"Let's call it a night then." Soap sighed, everyone nodding in agreement, except for him as they expected. His head shot up, his eyes lighting in a rage that they'd been subjected to since he woke up after his rescue.

"Like hell we're calling it a night." He growled at him. The anger made Gaz and Johnny shrink back, Price squeezing the bridge of his nose.

"Ghost, please-"

"We've got nothing! No leads! No updates!" His hand pounded on the table with each mention of what they lacked.

"We're sittin' at this table like a bunch of lazy fuckers while she's out there-"

"And what would you have us do?" Price interrupted. The room grew tense as two angry, powerful men glared at each other.

"You don't think I wanna find her too? You don't think I'm doin' everything I can? We're tired, and we need to regroup. Nothing good's coming out of us like this." He knew he was right, he hated that he was right. He felt useless, and it pissed him off. He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"He's not lightening up until we find her."

"Can't blame him. Get to bed the lot of you." And with that, Price left too, feeling a similar anger to his officer when he slept.

~.~

Cold water pushed her weight back, shocking her awake as the liquid shot up her nostrils and soaking her completely. They used a powerful hose to wake her up after her beating her unconscious the night before, thankfully avoiding her face.

"Morning Sunshine, piss baby callsign yes?" His accent was thick, laughs going around the room as the water turned off. She forced her eyes open, taking in her situation once more. Not the best, not the worst. Her legs were kept free of restraints, but they just barely hit the ground with her hands chained to the ceiling. She spit the water in her mouth out, chuckling lightly as she nodded her head towards them.

"You'd know a thing or two about piss babies wouldn't you." His fist connected with her stomach, but with a puff of her cheeks, no reaction came. He tried again, and yet, nothing, no wince, her feet cementing into the ground so not even a swing either.

"Right~" She drawled out, a bit breathless as she took a look around the room as they stared back in mild shock from the lack of reaction.

"After a while they all feel the same. Let me out and I'll show you how to punch sweetheart." This was her play. Intimidation, sensuality, it worked on the weaker ones, and when she caught the gaze of some of them, she knew she got em. The plan formulated in her mind, and for now she'd tune it out. It was a messy technique, as while she was gone she'd have no idea what happens to her body, so deep into her mind that she couldn't feel anything. It was a severe form of dissociation, but it worked.

"They don't want us touching your face. But they didn't say anything about the rest of you." He pulled out two high power shock sticks, and she knew she was in for it. The pain was excruciating. She could taste the blood in her mouth as she bit down her lip to keep her screams in. It took her back, the feeling of her first round of ECT.

Soon he moved to just beating her, pounding on her body as if she were a punching bag.

Her eyes went blank for a minute, focusing on a spot on the floor as she slowly slipped away, all the pain in her body disappearing.

~.~

"Mrs. L/N. I asked you a question." The lawyer spoke, stepping closer to where she sat on the stand, the courtroom watching this young girl getting berated consistently for the last 10 minutes. Her siblings watched as she was nearing tears from behind the plaintiff, having already been on the stand testifying against their own parents.

"I-uh.. can you say that again?" It was the job of a lawyer to break the client, to force the truth, or whatever would benefit the person they were meant to defend, but this was a child, someone just trying to get by with her life.

"What happened 10 years ago, to your recollection." He repeated calmly. She refused to look at her parents, because if she did she'd lose her words, her ability to speak. So she stared at her siblings, her older sister giving her a smile in attempt to calm her down. But nothing that came out of her in the next few moments would keep that smile on her sister's face, in fact it wiped it from the face of the planet. The flood of words that vomited out her mouth left everyone floored.

Her mother screamed at her from the defendant's side, throwing the first thing she got her hands on at her daughter. The jury watched as a notepad hit her in the head, and all she could do was cry and cover her face. She accused her of lying, screaming profanities to anyone who listened as she was dragged out of the room. Her father on the other hand, he broke down.

That's not fair. She thought. Why is he crying? He was the reason why she was here, why she was confessing her shame, her disgust with herself in front of a room full of people. Why did he have the right to cry? She wanted to tell him to stop. To stop trying to steal their moments of recognition. But the words got lost somewhere, and she stayed quiet as she was escorted off the stand.

When she opened the door to leave, she noticed Simon leaning against the wall in front of her. She looked down at what she was wearing, and suddenly she was an adult again, wearing a ripped black tank top and dirty cargo pants.

"Time to wake up love. Things to do, noses to break."

"It's not looking too good for me Simon. Feels like my body's gonna give out before I get my chance." He shook his head.

"Told you about a week ago that there's not a thing you can't do. I intend to make sure you stick to that. Now get your arse out there and give em hell." She sighed, giving him one last look until she shut her eyes, ripping herself out of her trance.

Her eyes opened and she came to, the room empty with a single guard sitting at a small table next to her.

"Hey." She called to him, blinking the haze out her eyes. He looked up to her, his face lighting up in a way that made her internally grimace. She saw the desire in his face, and she fed into it. He made his way to her with a sultry walk. He was on the shorter side of the spectrum and she looked down at him.

"Hey honey." He hummed, his finger trailing down her cheek for a moment. She ran her eyes down his body, faking seductiveness to get a glimpse on what he had on him. A pistol, standard issue belt with some stuff she could use on it.

Bingo, keys.

"They call you a siren from where I'm from." His accent wasn't as thick, and his words were easily understood. She leaned forward, him following as she leaned towards his ear.

"Let me down and I'll show you what kind of noises I can make." As cliche as it was, it worked. His eyes darkened, his hand twitching over his keys as he felt her lips graze over his ears. Slowly, he flicked through the set he had, and with little work done on her behalf, one unlocked, his hand quick to grasp her wrist. Before he could get the other one, the door slammed open, revealing her original capturer.

"Hey!" He shouted. In a flash her head slammed on his, her foot kicking his gun from his holster, watching it fly from his waist towards her hand, and with a stretch she caught it. She swung it in her hand, putting a bullet in his head before turning it the idiot who let her out.

"Siren's a new one. Maybe that'll be my next callsign." And with that he dropped dead. She had to be quick, her arm now released allowed for one foot to have a farther reach, the keys hanging on her toe as she carefully tossed it up to her hand, the gun now being held in her mouth. She tried each key carefully, knowing if she moved too fast she'd fumble and risk dropping it with the uneven weight now causing her to sway. Her weight was on one arm, and it quickly got sore, so when she dropped to the floor she felt heavy and wobbly.

The pain she pushed off had began coming back to her, and before she knew it she was crouching to the floor, her head between her knees as she gasped for air.

She crawled to the door, having to use all her body weight and strength to push it closed due to it's steel material. She locked herself inside as heavy thuds raced to the room at the sound of the shots fired. The room was designed to lock from the inside so nobody from the other side could pick it, but it quickly became a detriment as they had to use what they had to try and open it another way. She unclipped the vest from one of the men, quickly putting it on herself. It was large on her, the chest piece hanging lower than she'd like, but there was no helping it.

Better than nothing.

She searched the bodies, finding two grenades, she could work with that. She unlocked it, rushing back to the corner on the left of the door, and when it burst open she pulled the pin, watching the soldiers jump back in terror at the explosive in their face. she rushed to the door, shutting it again and listening to the boom from a safer distance. She tuned in to her environment for any more steps, and when she heard none she pried it open again. She picked up someone's rifle that had been flung to the side.

No doubt people heard the explosion, and she was in for it when they came down. So she stocked. She went to any body that was still intact and took whatever gear they had, shoving it anywhere she had room. She was likely underground, noticing the long staircase up as she took in her surroundings.

With the heavy thud of boots, she inhaled and prepared.

Life or death.

~.~

Simon had stayed up that night, finding himself unable to sleep without being haunted by her face. He found himself jolting awake with a shout of her name, and he decided that if she couldn't sleep, and likely she couldn't, he wouldn't either. It wasn't until Soap burst through his door, out of breath that he moved an inch from his position.

He shot up from his cot, looking at him with hope.

"We've got something. Someone in a base near the border of Verdansk reported a need for reinforcements. Bodies dropping like flies from a single prisoner they had held there." It had to be her. HQ had hacked into radio frequencies since she had disappeared, hence the amount of missions TF teams were being sent on recently. The team scurried into the aircraft waiting for them outside, Simon anxious and itching to get there as fast as he could.

When they landed he was the first one out, hearing gunshots from inside the facility. Reinforcements had shown up the same time, and before they could rush in they were shot down, directing the attention to them rather than the person currently fighting for her life.

She twisted an arm, ducking under the arm of another and sweeping him off his feet with her leg, dragging the other down and slamming his head into the floor. She shot the next two before flipping a man attempting to grab her over her back and onto the floor.

She heard footsteps, the barrel of her gun being the first thing to face the front door.

"Hey! It's just me! It's Ghost." He called out to her, immediately putting his hands up in surrender as they finished clearing the ground outside. He noticed her deep, uneven breaths, her eyes mistrusting as she kept her gun up and pointing at him.

"Ghost-" His hand silenced his teammate for a moment, slowly taking steps to her. He watched her eyes flicker as his hand gently rested at the top of her rifle, pushing it down at an unhurried pace, not wanting to trigger her with quick movements.

"It's just me.. lovie." She could've cried. His hands went to her shoulders as she dropped her gun off to the side.

"You're safe now. Nothin' to worry about." She felt herself relax, all of her adrenaline fading as she soon collapsed. Whatever he was saying to her was left unheard, her ears muting as her eyes closed from the sheer exhaustion and overexertion of her body.

"We need to get her to medical now." Price told him, Simon one step ahead as he held her in his arms and rushed out the door.

She didn't wake up for 3 days, and for a full 72 hours he had not left her side. He ate his meals in her room, slept in the uncomfortable hospital chair, and when he used the bathroom he waited until he couldn't hold it anymore and rushed that too, his hands still wet from the sink when he sat down. He was gone for a maximum 20 minutes for the entire day, and only that long because Price volunteered to sit with her as he showered, wearing the clothes he brought from him.

One night it was pouring rain, the drops slamming against the window with lightning brightening up the room every so often and powerful thunder that shook the building. She awoke to it, finally, her eyes crusty and her throat dry as a bone. Her memory failed her for a moment, shooting up in her bed in a panic that jolted Simon awake. He immediately rushed to soothe her with a gentle call of her name, dragging her attention to him as his hand cupped her chin.

"You're safe. You're in a hospital, recovering. Deep breaths alright? Like mine." He placed her hand on his chest, guiding her through mimicking his breathing until she was calm. He gave her a moment to take in her surrounds, her voice hoarse and raspy.

"How long was I out?" He handed her a cup of water, watching her gulp it down hastily.

"Fuckin' hell. Slow down you're making a bloody mess on yourself." He muttered, watching the water flow down the sides of her mouth and down her neck as she exhaled after finishing.

"You try getting the living shit beat and shocked out of you for a week straight. Had to seduce my way out. Dirty fuckers." She scowled at the thought, placing the cup on the table next to him.

"Did anyone..." He trailed off, too afraid to finish the sentence.

"No. No they didn't." Relief had lifted off his chest, his body relaxing for a moment before looking back up at her. His guilt never left him, and he wanted nothing more than to apologize.

"I-"

"I'll call HQ in the morning for the team switch-" "No!" He should've felt embarrassed by how quickly he cut her off. She looked at him confused. Is that not what he wanted?

"I'm sorry, for what I said, what I did... It wasn't right. The last thing I want is you off my team." She didn't understand it. He saw what she was, a monster. She killed and tortured how she pleased. "Why the sudden change of heart? Don't tell me you're getting soft on me." She teased, making him roll his eyes.

"It's not your fault. You need help... Y/N. Which is why with some fighting with those bloody wankers at HQ you're on leave with mandatory therapy sessions." Her eyes widened, and for once, she had something to be happy about. She could make her therapy jokes become real. Her breathed hitched for a beat, a sudden realization dawning on her.

Someone fought for her.

She felt the familiar pad of his thumb stroke under her eye, and it wasn't until she felt a wetness sinking into her mask that she realized she was shedding tears again.

"Comere lovie." Lovie. She liked that one, she was certain about that. He pulled her into a hug. For the first time in years, someone embraced her. She felt herself crack, every guarded aspect of her mind shattered in that moment as sobs flooded through her body involuntarily. Just like he promised himself, Simon was there to help her through it. His arms around her were tight, as if she could share the weight of the world she carried on her shoulders and he'd help her lift it until she could do it on her own.

"I need to get a nurse to check on you." He muttered in her ear, feeling her shiver at the feeling of his breath dusting over her skin. She only tightened her grip.

"Can we just, stay like this for a while. Please." Her voice was small, quiet, and he couldn't help but agree, maintaining a constant vice grip around her. She felt protected, and she needed that. So she clung to him as if her life depended on it, and he held her for as long as she needed him to. He felt her weight eventually slump against him, her arms dropping as her breath evened out to the same one he'd memorized from her 3-day slumber.

He laid her back, pulling the sheets up to make sure she didn't get cold before finding a nurse. They checked her vitals, blood pressure, wounds, everything.

"She's healing well. Everything looks good. We'll keep her one more night for observation and then we can discuss taking her home." He nodded, and she awkwardly smiled and walked out, shutting the door behind her. Simon sat back down in his seat, feeling more relaxed than he had before.

Healing well, looks good. Those words repeated in his head over and over. He leaned forward, pushing his mask up to the bridge of his nose as he hovered over her for a minute. The serene look on her face, even in the dark was enough to make his heart stutter. The way her hair, now in it's natural state, free from a balaclava, looked as it sat around her head like flowers in a meadow. She still wore a mask that covered the lower half of her face, but this was the most he'd get to see her for a while, so he took what he could get.

He pressed a slow kiss on her forehead, embracing the moment for what it was before he pulled his mask back down and released the breath he was holding, letting himself fall back asleep to the gentle exhales he heard from her.

~.~

Next thing she knew, she was holding a duffle bag with all her work stuff in it, Team 141 standing with her as she stood in her front door. They escorted her home, filling her in on her therapy sessions, when they start, how participation and progress were necessary for her to be allowed back in the field after her leave was up. Price had been assigned to live with her for the time being to make sure she was adjusting well and attending her sessions. She had half a year, which was enough, and it was mandatory to continue during work.

She dropped her bag off to the side behind the door before looking back at her teammates, Price flopping on her couch with a sigh as his eyes closed.

"Well, bye." She went to shut the door, only for Simon's foot to stop it from shutting.

"Fuckin' hell. No thanks for the people who saved your life?" Soap scoffed, watching her roll her eyes as she reopened the door.

"Thank you my saviors. What would I have ever done without you." Her voices was monotone, clearly bored and wanting to lay down for a bit.

"Alright then. Just don't get yourself killed in the next 6 months before we come back yeah." Simon grumbled, rolling his eyes too.

"You're not visiting?" She questioned, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"We wanna see a full transformation. Adds to the extra shock factor." Gaz smiled, watching her sigh before she painfully opened her arms for a hug.

"One for the road I guess." The embrace was horribly awkward and lasted a solid 2 seconds before she pulled herself back with a clear grimace.

"Do we get to see what's under the mask?" Soap pressed.

"Do you ever not ask questions? No? Then there's your answer." She quickly shut him down, watching him deflate in minor amusement before turning to Simon. He grunted as her arms wrapped around his middle, frozen in place for a minute.

"Hug me back dickhead." She muttered. His arms wrapped around her with a huff, though they both knew he didn't mind.

"Why the hell does he get a special hug." Soap whined, watching her pull away.

"Because he doesn't piss me off. Now bye." She shut the door in their face, kicking off her shoes and throwing a sock at Price's head. He groaned and turned, looking at her through bleary, groggy eyes.

"When's my first session again?"

The last part will be next!! I hope you enjoyed this one, more ghost fluff!! LOVIEEEEEE. My all time favorite. She's getting somewhere, finally getting some much needed help. Again I hope you guys enjoyed this part and the next one will be out fairly soon because I'm impulsive!! See ya next time!

@thaprilks @bowtruckleninja @almightywdm

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 15

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 |-| Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19

AO3

Summary: When Rosie doesn't return from a mission, Frankie is forced to deal with the fallout

Warnings: ANGST. just so much. consider this a blanket warning for everything honestly

Word Count: 3.3k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58 @justheretoreadthxxs @ginabaker1666

Files tucked beneath her arm, a cup of coffee in one hand, George strode along the halls of command, humming to herself as she went, the day as monotonous and ordinary as any other. Golden ponytail bouncing with each step, the route back to her desk was so familiar that her mind didn't even have to steer her, the movement utterly brainless as she passed Crosby's desk. Douglass stood talking with the navigator, the pair frowning in concern, but she didn't give them notice until she heard Harry speak.

"No word on Rosie, still. I'll call back in a while, see if he's made it back."

George's pace ceased so suddenly that her coffee sloshed over the side, a great brown puddle landing on the ground with an audible splatter. The two men turned to stare, frowns deepening.

"Aarons?" Croz asked, brow furrowed.

"What did you just say?" She asked.

"... I said Aa-"

"No. About Rosie. What did you just say?"

The men exchanged a wary glance, and Croz sucked in a long, deep breath.

"Rosie's plane didn't make it back with the others. We don't know if-"

That was all she needed to know. George discarded everything she'd been carrying upon Crosby's desk in a single, frantic movement, the last of her coffee spilling droplets across whatever map he had currently been working on. He let out a yelp of protest, but she was already gone, heel almost skidding against the polished floor as she made a dash for the exit, sunlight stinging her eyes after so many hours hunched over a typewriter.

Frankie. Frankie. Frankie.

The thought ran on a ceaseless loop, too panicked to even conjure a whole sentence. But she needed to find Frankie - now. Before anyone else could. If the news came from anyone but her, who knew how much worse the damage could be. George hadn't the time to think before she burst into a sprint, almost skidding against the gravel several times as her mad dash carried her towards the hardstand, sweat drenching her hair brown by the time she arrived.

Her heart was beating out of her chest, breath coming to her in quick, ragged bursts, chest heaving. Lemmons had spotted her the moment she approached, expression already contorted in a miserable scowl, rubbing the grease from his hands with a tattered old rag.

"George-"

"Where's Frankie?"

"She's working on one of the ATS trucks. But George, Rosie's-"

"I know," She uttered, barely more than an exhausted huff as she broke into a run yet again, heartbeat pounding so hard she could barely hear anything else.

The ATS depot was deathly silent as she arrived, the scene almost unnerving. There was not another person in sight, everyone else off on the day's supply runs. As for Frankie, she stood bent over the engine of one of the remaining trucks, one hand propped against the hood to keep it upright, muttering to herself as she tinkered and tweaked, her other hand lazily wrapped in a rag to keep the first away as she poked around inside. George's thundering footsteps pittered to a stop just behind her, fighting to breathe again, desperate to regain some composure before she had to deliver the news.

Frankie never glanced up, assuming the new arrival to simply be another ATS worker. "Yeah, I think it's a problem with the valve - I'll have to get a new spring," She mused, eyes narrowed.

"Frankie," George urged, voice coming in little more than a croak. Frankie paused then. As time had gone on, she'd stopped making sure she was on the tarmac the second Rosie's plane touched down. If there was another pressing job to do, she could get it done and find him after interrogation, so sure had the pair of them became that he would always make it back. After all, he'd returned from fifty-one missions - would else could say that? She'd gotten too comfortable, too complacent in the knowledge of his competency. And now she was paying the price.

Turning to look at George, red-faced and panting, tears in her eyes, Frankie felt her blood run cold. Instantly she was back in the mechanics' hut, more than a year ago now, opening her arms to George as the news of Curt's death arrived. The situation seemed so eerily similar all of a sudden, that her first instinct was to ask after Blakely. Even with Everett safely on the ground, it somehow seemed more plausible that something had happened to him than it did Rosie - the idea that Rosie of all people hadn't made it back didn't even cross her mind at first.

"... George?"

George swallowed hard, blinking away the tears that were forming. Her mouth had gone utterly dry, the act of speaking tearing painfully at her throat.

"Frankie... Rosie's plane didn't make it back."

She didn't flinch, eyes glassy, gaze fixed on some invisible midpoint, never quite settling on anything real.

"Did his chute go up?"

"We don't know."

George had expected her to cry - to let out one of those terrible sobs, or even to empty the contents of her stomach onto the ground below like she had when Egan had gone down. She'd expected her to fall apart, to make it messy and loud.

Her silence was so much worse.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Frankie was floating - the feeling of her feet rooted against the ground suddenly ebbing away, as if she had broken free from her body and began to slip upwards out of her own skull. She could hear nothing save for the thumping of her heartbeat, the sudden swell of blood leaving a prickling sensation in her fingers, as if her hands were being stabbed at by a dozen tiny needles, burying beneath the skin at the softest parts of her. Any colour that remained to her had drained from her face, skin left a cadaverish grey as her mouth gaped open, any and all moisture sapped from her throat until every breath felt like sandpaper scraping against raw flesh.

George was trying to speak - she could see her lips moving, yet no sound permeated her thoughts. What was she saying? It didn't matter. How could it? If it couldn't bring Rosie back, it wasn't worth a damn thing.

Screwing up the rag in her hand, Frankie tossed it blindly into the open engine of the truck she'd been working on. She moved past without a word, shoulder brushing against George's as she began to walk away, relying on her body to move her feet, trusting it was working even when she couldn't feel the press of gravel beneath her. She couldn't feel anything. It would've been terrifying, but that was a feeling too.

"Frankie-" George croaked, but with a lift of Frankie's hand she was silent, jaw snapping shut, eyes red with tears as she watched her best friend leave, overwhelmed by the unknown. Because she simply couldn't say that Rosie was dead. But she couldn't say he was alive either. And that was worse, in a way - its own unique form of torture.

The hut was empty, an eerie silence hanging over it as Frankie entered, letting the door swing shut with a creak behind her, not even bothering to lock it. She closed her eyes, taking a long, deep breath and letting it seep outwards again, the pain in her throat still tender. Everything here was unchanged. How could everything look the same? How could something so fundamentally shift within her, yet the world outside remained exactly as it was? It almost didn't seem real. Here, in the same old hut, the one Rosie had never been allowed to enter, it seemed easy to pretend nothing outside of these metal walls had happened. He'd never permeated this space, so his absence didn't leave the hole it did everywhere else.

But then there were the poppies.

Tucked inside that battered old book George had given her years ago, which sat as ever on the nightstand, the edge of one of the pressed flowers peeked into the light, a tiny glimpse of red against the aged, yellow pages. It had been the best part of a year since the day he'd given them to her, but in this preserved state they'd never lost their colour, as bright as the day she'd first seen them.

Striding towards her bed, Frankie stopped just before it, flicking open the battered cover. Seeing the flowers there, scattered atop one another like they always were, flicked some kind of switch within her. A terrible scream left her, batting the book with one hand as it went spinning across the room, the fragile flowers scattering in all directions. An anguished sob ripped through her chest as she felt her strength leave her, collapsing against the bed as she fought for a breath. Egan's jacket was still hanging over the end of the bed frame. It wasn't cold here, but she put it on anyway, zipping it up as far as it would go as she tucked her chin into the collar, inhaling the smell of old cigarettes that had never gone away.

When her mother had died, had her father felt like this? If so, it was a miracle he'd lived this long.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Snow stuck to his eyelashes, freezing air battering his cheeks, and Rosie wailed through gritted teeth as one of the Soviet soldiers helped him up into the back of a truck, his arm sending shockwaves of agony rippling through his body. He wasn't quite sure where he was - even less sure where he was going. If he considered every single problem the situation posed, his mind might have crumbled in on itself. So instead, he thought of only one.

"I - I need to get back as soon as I can," He stammered, the cold chattering his teeth so fiercely that it was difficult to even speak. "My - my wife, she's waiting for me... She's a mechanic at the airfield - sh-she won't know what's happened," Rosie pleaded, receiving nothing but blank stares from his surrounding company. Either they didn't understand a word he was saying, or they simply didn't care - both options struck him as equally fair.

Everyone had a wife waiting at home, someone they wanted desperately to return to - what difference did his make to anything?

But it was Frankie. Frankie made all the difference in the world. They'd understand if they'd only met her - seen her smile, heard her laugh. Or at least, they would in Rosie's mind. Because how could someone meet Frankie and move on? How could she not become the centre of one's world?

He'd called her his wife without even thinking about it. The word felt at home on his tongue.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Crosby glanced up as a knock sounded against the doorframe. George never stepped into the room, merely hovered in the hallway, coffee steaming in her hand, tiredness tugging at her features. "Any word?" She asked.

He shook his head. "No."

She took a deep breath, nodding as she turned away, and he listened to her footsteps echo down the hall until she was gone. Passing through the next room, she brushed by Blakely's desk without so much as a glance, and his gaze followed her with a mournful frown until he couldn't stand to let her take another step alone.

"George," Everett breathed, pushing himself up from his seat. She trudged so slowly that he scarcely had to make an effort to catch up, and with a gentle hand on her back, he guided her swiftly around the corner, out of view of their coworkers.

"Hey. Hey," He cooed, cupping her jaw with both hands so that she'd meet his eye, her expression awash with exhaustion. "Baby, c'mon."

"It's been a week," George sighed. "She's not getting better. If anything, it's just getting worse."

"She's still up there?"

"Yeah."

The morning after the Riveters had gone down, Frankie had packed up her personal effects and rented out the hotel room above the pub that she and Rosie used to spend the night in. She was yet to come out. When George tried to visit, sometimes she'd let her in, but sometimes she'd simply be left out in the hall, talking through a locked door, desperate for a response. She wasn't going to work. She wasn't showing up in the mess hall to eat. The room itself was mercifully cheap, but nevertheless, if she persisted to occupy it, she'd run out of money eventually.

"... Call her dad," Blakely said.

George considered this. "Yeah. You're right he should - he should be here. But I dunno how I can get him to come, he can't drive with his leg, and he's got the kids to look after, and-"

She had begun to ramble. He pressed his forehead against hers, taking in one deep breath after another until she joined in, breathing in synch until she felt her heartbeat slow.

"I'll drive. You stay with the kids. It's alright."

"But we've got so much work to-"

"George," He spoke firmly. "It's alright."

She sighed, nodding, the faintest of smiles beginning to manifest. "Yeah... Love you."

"Love you."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The bed sheets were pulled up over her head, isolating her from the sunlight that peeked through the curtains as Frankie lay curled up on her side, picking at the hem of her blanket until it frayed. The room was beginning to smell. Well - not beginning. It had passed that point yesterday. But she hadn't noticed, or just simply didn't care. She didn't care about much of anything, not if it wouldn't bring Rosie back.

A firm knock sounded at the door. Frankie threw the sheet off, squinting in the light as she stared, hoping the sound - and whoever was causing it - would go away.

Another knock.

She huffed, calling out. "George, I don't-"

"Come on, petal."

There was that voice - that warm, grumbling, wonderful voice that took her back to her childhood whenever she heard it - to curling up in her father's lap and pretending to fall asleep so that he'd carry her to bed, to Christmases and birthdays at a two-person table, singing and laughing like they were the only two people in the entire world worth being with.

Frankie was in tears before she'd even opened the door.

No matter how tall she grew, he was always overwhelmingly huge, arms like tree trunks as she threw herself into his embrace, staggering out into the hallway. The relief was immediate, his soft shushing blowing warm breath against her scalp as gentle hands stroked her hair and squeezed her tight. He herded her back into the room without her even realising, closing the door behind them with the slightest of clicks.

"Blimey. What's all this then?" Her father breathed, surveying the state of the place. Clothes were tossed over every available surface, save for the ones that were littered with empty cups and food wrappers, every single thing dropped without any intention of ever being picked up again.

Frankie sniffed, wiping her face with the back of her hand as she glanced around. She hadn't noticed how bad it had gotten, hadn't broken out of her trance for even a second long enough to realise that she was rotting here. Her father pushed the window as far open as it would go, and she blinked at the feeling of fresh air on her face.

"Sit down, then," He nodded, and she did as he asked without a second thought, perching on the edge of the bed, hands pressed together, squeezed between her legs like an anxious child. His huge, calloused hands reached for her, tucking hair behind each ear until her face was in full view. "There we go."

The bedframe creaked beside her as he sat down, the entire mattress shifting beneath his weight, the silent feeling of presence infinitely more comforting than anything else she could imagine.

"I don't know what I'm doing," She confessed. "... What did you do? When mum died."

Her father sucked in a breath, closing his eyes for a moment as if picturing the woman whose face Frankie could only recall from photographs.

"...I got on. My Hazel was... the second-best person I've ever met. But she gave me the first," His arm wrapped around her, squeezing her shoulder so tightly she had no choice but to lean in, resting her head against him. "It felt like everything was supposed to stop. But the morning after she died you still woke me up at three in the bloody morning, screaming your head off 'n all. And the next morning, and the next. Everything kept going, and you needed me more than ever - and you were so tiny that I never wanted to put you down for a second, I just wanted to look after you forever."

He beamed down at her, and she choked out something between a sob and a laugh as he continued. "I moved your cot into my room, and I'd just sit there and watch you sleep for hours. I couldn't sleep, so I made sure I'd be there the second you woke up, so you'd never have to cry... You find something that needs you. Even if that something happens to be the littlest bundle of trouble you've ever seen-" She squirmed as he dug a finger into her side, letting out a giggle. "- you find something else. Or someone."

Frankie sniffed. "I don't think any-"

"Don't give me any bullshit, now. Those planes fly 'cause of you - the ones that make it back make it back because of you. And if you can't do that, do something smaller. George needs you."

"George doesn't need me-"

"George is sittin' on the living room floor at home playing dominoes with Jill right now, just so I could be here. You think that girl doesn't need you? You need her - why wouldn't it be the same the other way? When you started tellin' me about her in your letters, I thought 'Oh brilliant, she's found a nice bloke to look after her, all's right with the world'. Now, it turned out she wasn't a bloke - just a funny nickname - but I was bloody right about the rest, eh?"

Now she let herself smile, biting back another sob as she nodded, lips parted in the best grin she could muster.

"Dad," Frankie croaked. "... I was gonna marry him."

"I know. Course you were. But you'll marry someone else - or you won't. I didn't. D'you think my life hasn't been worth it in a million other ways?" He asked. She shook her head.

"We're gonna get up. We're gonna clean up all this shit. You're gonna come home for a couple days and then you're gonna get back to it, yeah?"

Her father rose to her feet, brow raised expectantly as he awaited a reply. Frankie sniffed, nodding as she wiped the tears from her cheeks with both hands.

"Yeah. Yeah."

He had already begun to gather up the litter before she could even stand, calling back over his shoulder. "And you're gonna give George a hug for me."

She let out a burst of laughter, feeling tears well in her eyes all over again. "Always," Frankie affirmed, chuckling. "... Dad?"

"Yes, m'love?"

"... Love you."

Her father stood up straight, turning to face her, a sympathetic smile creasing his perpetually reddened cheeks.

"Love you more."

The realisation that Rosie was no longer the last person she'd said those words to almost knocked her backwards, swiping the breath from her lungs.

But then she steadied herself, fists clenched.

"Love you most."

[astraeasatelier]

Chapter 6 - Fear

I don't want to do anything...

Location: Mizuki's Room

Mizuki: (...Oh, it's over.)

(...The ending wasn't all that interesting...)

(...I guess I'll find something else to watch now...)

... ...

(I don't want to do anything...)

(But... I don't have the courage to disappear...)

(Even then... I still don't want to live...)

(So here I sit...just watching anime...)

I shouldn't think about it too hard, whatever works--

ring, ring

Mizuki: (Who could be messaging me at this time...?)

...An?

... ...

(...I wonder if Ena messaged me again...)

(After everything, I logged out of Nightcord, so I wouldn't know...)

???: [...Mizuki.]

Mizuki: Meiko...?

Meiko: [I've finally gotten ahold of you.]

Mizuki: ...I thought you weren't going to meddle anymore?

Meiko: [... ...]

[You're really not going to come back to the Sekai?]

[Everyone's waiting to see you.]

Mizuki: ...I know that.

But, still... ...

... ...

I...can't bring myself to...

Meiko: [Mizuki...]

Location: The Empty Sekai

Kanade: ...So none of us could find her, huh?

Mafuyu: I went to all the places she might be, but no good... It's possible we went at a bad time or we missed her, though.

Luka: I wonder if she's even left her house at all?

Ena: That's...

Kanade: ...Still, all we can do is keep looking.

Right now, that's the only thing we can do.

Len: ... ...

Kaito: If only we could connect to her smartphone...

Ena: ... ...

...! Meiko...!

Rin: Where were you?

Meiko: I was visiting Mizuki.

Ena: Eh...?!

B-but... I thought her smartphone was completely black...

Meiko: I just happened to check on her when she had her smartphone open.

So I was able to talk to her a little.

Kanade: Is that so...?

Ena: Thank you, Meiko...!

So? Where is she?

Meiko: ...It seems like she's been shut up in her room this entire time.

At least, that seems to have been the case for the last few days.

Ena: So...I was right...

But... Then...what should we do...?

Mafuyu: ... ...

...I'm not sure if she'll go, but it looks like she has some remedial classes to attend.

Ena: Huh...?

Mafuyu: When I was looking for her, I ran into Aoyagi-kun. So I talked to him for a bit.

Since she's been absent for a while, he was saying that she'd need to take some classes to make up for the work she's missed.

Kanade: That reminds me... She mentioned before that she might not be able to advance to the next grade if she doesn't attend enough days.

Mafuyu: ...Since she's still checking her smartphone, at least Shiraishi-san can get in touch with her...

I'm getting the feeling that she doesn't want to worry everyone.

Ena: So...

If she doesn't want to cause everyone trouble, she'll attend her remedial lessons...? Is that what you think?

Mafuyu: Well, I'm not certain.

Ena: (It's true that Shiraishi-san is still talking to her, so it's not impossible, but...)

(...Right now Mizuki is...)

(No...if there's a chance, I have to take it...!)

Thanks, Mafuyu. I'll go talk to the teacher for the remedial classes.

And, Meiko?

Sorry, but can you keep an eye on Mizuki when you can?

Meiko: Of course.

Ena: Thank you.

Time: A few days later

Ena: Yeah, everything's fine on my end.

It looks like she isn't here yet... Well, it seems like she'll come in the afternoon, so she'll probably show up at the last minute...

Kanade's voice: [Got it, then I'll wait a bit closer to the school gate.]

Ena: I'm counting on you.

Sorry that you had to skip class for this, Mafuyu.

Mafuyu's voice: [It's fine. This is more important, anyway.]

Ena: ...I see. Thank you...

Alright, if anything happens, I'll call you.

(...Today is the day for make-up classes...)

(After looking for her in so many places, I couldn't find her at all.)

(But...I might see her today.)

(The teacher said that the classes would be after school, so if Mizuki is coming, she should show up soon...)

I want...to talk to her.

(Maybe I should go wait by the entrance instead of by the classroom...)

(I'm not sure what to do, but I don't want to go there and pass by her, so I guess I should just stay here...)

(I wonder if she'll show up...)

(But this is the only chance I have left. I have to put it all on this...)

(...I have to risk it...right...?)

(But is this really the right thing to do...?)

(To just stay like this...?)

ring, ring

Ena: ... ... ... ...Ah...?

[Sorry, you two, but I need a favor...!]

[beybaldes]

all I know of love is how to live without it

Eddie Roundtree × Fem!Reader

djats masterlist

word count: 1.9k

summary: Eddie's used to being second place, everywhere from the science projects he did in middle school to the one Camilla wouldn't choose. you show him that he's always your no.1.

Warning!! I have not read the book or the show!!! All info I have gathered has been from other x readers I have read. sorry in advance if I have butchered vour fav show/book because I have plainly made shit up in favour of satiating my own need for more eddie fics xoxo

"But the dude still wouldn't leave me alone, so I called Eddie over and was like 'I told you I have a boyfriend, see?' But he still didn't believe me, said he would've seen it in the tabloids if I was taken. Eddie got right in his face about it and then he finally left me alone." Graham laughed through every word you said, the two of you huddled in a corner of the room, it pack with so many people that if you'd wanted to move it would've been hard anyway. When he'd first found you about an hour ago, you'd told him to carry on in his travels, quite content to stand alone and people watch, but Graham insisted, not wanting to leave you alone in the crowd.

"Where is Eddie?" He asked, eyes scanning around the room in search of your partner in crime. Now that you'd thought about it, you'd not seen him in a while - he'd said he was going to grab himself another drink and then seemingly disappeared. "I don't think I've seen him since we got here."

"Yeah, me either." You scanned your eyes across the room once more, not seeing his tufts of blonde hair anywhere. "I'm gonna go look for him, if that's okay."

"You know it is." Graham assured you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side, leaning down so you could hear his next words better over the commotion. "I'm gonna get another drink, come find me if you can't find him."

With a nod, you left the brunettes side, beginning your search for the blonde who you were 80% was crashed on a couch somewhere.

3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms and 6 laps of the main room later you still hadn't found him. You'd bumped into Graham twice who told you to give up on your search and enjoy your evening, and the rest of the members of the six at least once - spare Eddie himself.

In your attempt to scan through the room once more, you walked straight into Camilla, grabbing her by her elbow to make sure she didn't fall over at your sudden connection. "Cami, I'm so sorry I didn't see you."

"It's okay, y/n, don't worry about it."

"You okay?" You asked, noticing a slight sniffle to Camilla's words. Billy could be a dick, so you wouldn't be surprised if he'd said something to her that he really shouldn't have. The words didn't need to be said out loud, a silent conversation shared between the two of you in a matter of seconds between your eyes alone.

You pulled her in for a brief hug, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Don't let it ruin your night. You look hot as shit." Camilla broke into a smile at your words, whatever she had been worked up over melting from her features in an instant. "Go. Have fun. Get drunk. Who cares."

Camilla pulled you in for the hug this time, though only briefly, allowing you to pull away when you whispered a promise to find, and do shots with her, when you'd found what you were looking for.

As Camilla walked past you, you noticed a door behind where she'd stood that you hadn't seen before, leading out onto the balcony - promising to yourself that if Eddie wasn't here, you'd just get on with your night and question him about it the next morning.

Thankfully, the man of the hour was on the other side of the door, his forearms resting on the balcony's fence as he looked out over the city "You!" You cheered, steeping down onto the balcony and approaching Eddie where he stood at its far end, his eyes downcast and a half-assed smile on his face. "I have been looking everywhere for you! You said you were going to get a drink and you disappeared on me! What happened?"

You planted your arms firmly on the railing next to him, leaning down and forward to get a good look at his face which haven't moved since you'd come out to the balcony. Eddie's dejected expression had you freezing, realising the joyful disposition you'd entered the scene with may have not been entirely appropriate.

"Ed's." You reached out a hand for his arm, finally gaining his attention, though his eyes still head a far off look to them. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm fine." He immediately deflected, though the fact that his eyes still couldn't meet yours told you otherwise. "Really."

"I don't believe you." You bent at the knee, tilting your head and trying to get a better look at his face once more. "What happened, Ed's."

It wasn't a question this time; a gentle command for him to talk about, share what was on his mind. A problem shared is a problem halved was a saying you'd been raised on, and you weren't going to falter on that sentiment now.

"I'm fine." That wasn't what you'd asked. "Just go back inside I'll be back in in a minute."

"Eddie." Turning to face him entirely, you leant your side against the railing, one arm on top of it and one reaching out for his hand. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

Eddie still didn't answer you, his jaw locking and his hands gripping the railing tighter as he stared out at the city believe you.

"We don't have to talk about it." You whispered, moving closer to him as you spoke, the music from inside seeping out onto the balcony at its deafening volume. "But I'm here if you decide you want to, if you need someone to listen."

"You'll be there for me?" You couldn't tell what cogs were turning in Eddie's head, what motivated him to finally speak up and ask such a question, but you were glad he was talking. That was a step in the right direction, into finding out what upset him so much.

"Yeah." You answered honestly, no strings attached or conditions to your words. "Always, Ed's."

That seemed to be enough for Eddie for the moment, and you didn't plan on pushing him to talk about it, so you took the opportunity to slip back inside. Running from the balcony door and into the kitchen, you picked up two bottles of beer and ran straight back, not wanting to leave Eddie alone for too long now that he'd began to open up about whatever was bothering him.

"You're back?" Eddie asked when he heard the door creaking open. "What about the party?"

"Everyone else can wait." You answered, offering him one of the beers you'd grabbed cautiously, like he was a wounded animal you were afraid to startle. "You need me. That's all that matters now."

Though Eddie wasn't in the mood for smiling, he could feel one trying to curl onto his lips. He revelled in the quiet shared between the two of you, thankful that you were willing to be patient with him, let him deal in his own time.

"You remember that science fair project we did in the 8th grade?" Eddie asked out of nowhere, breaking the peaceful silence that had settled between the two of you. You took another sip of your beer, turning to him with a confused look on your face. "What did you think of it?"

"Think it was stupid." You muttered, looking at the late night city lights as you thought back on something that felt like a whole other life ago. This where different then, you were different then, and you couldn't quite place when everything had changed. "It still keeps me up at night that Graham won and not us."

While it was definitely an over exaggeration, it elicited a laugh from Eddie - something you'd been hoping to achieve since the moment you'd noticed the crestfallen look on his face.

"It was only because he stole Billy's winning project from the year before too!" You whined, remembering the events more clearly now that Eddie had brought it up. "That cheeky little- I'm so gonna convince him he owe me $50 in the morning."

"What? Why?" Eddie asked, mind now focused on your confusing words more then Camilla breaking his heart.

"I don't know, reparations for the win we deserved or something. I'll split it with you, 30:20."

"Why am I getting $20? Why not $25 each?" Eddie whined, his full body now turned to face you, one arm supporting his weight against the railing while the other held his beer.

"No, no. You'd get the $30. I did jack shit in that project. You did all the hard work."

"Couldn't have done it without you though, y'know." Eddie said in complete earnest, some kind of realisation settling over him as the pair of you dwelled on the memory from a life time ago. It was weirdly poetic in a sense, how even back then, before the band and everything, you stood by his side when a Dunne was breaking his heart in some capacity, put the pieces back together even when he didn't ask you too - or tell you it's what he needed.

"Still can't do shit without out now." The words came out in a teasing way, but you could tell Eddie was trying to mask the sentimental value to them. The two of you had been two peas in a pod as long as you could remember, you could read him like a book even when he didn't want you too.

"You know you could." You teased right back, feeling comfortable enough to knock your shoulder against his now that the mood had shifted to a happier one. "You just don't want to."

"Yeah I don't think I do." Eddie let you rest your head on his shoulder, one of your arms wrapping around his bicep while the other wrapped around his forearm in a makeshift hug. "Don't think I ever do, birdie."

"There's my Eddie." You cooed, so casually that it sent Eddie brain whirring. He knew he was nowhere near ready to open up his heart again, but you'd already wriggled your way in so long ago that it felt natural. Something about being your Eddie was something he thought he could get used to, but that wasn't something he wanted to unpack today. "Come back inside."

"Since you asked so nicely." Your arms stayed wrapped around Eddie's as you re-entered the party, weaving your way through the crowd in search of Graham who you'd all but abandoned earlier. He was easy to find, towering over the crowds of people, and he kept himself in good company, introducing you to the group he'd surrounded himself with and you and Eddie finding conversation with them easy.

Though Eddie had a smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eye, his entire demeanour had changed since you first found him on the balcony, and that was enough for you.

The rest of the night went quickly, people coming and going from your group, but you, Eddie and Graham sticking together for the rest of the evening. Eddie added his own opinion to the conversation every now and then, but spent most of the night taking in the feeling of your arms around his; thinking about how he must have been someone good in his last life to deserve such an angel as you in this one.

[mercurygray]

For the build-a-fic prompt list: can I request 6, Q, 𓆉/𓅨 for Fred or 12, B, 𓃓 for Cordelia, please? Thank you!

--lestweforget5

Thanks for the prompt @lestweforget5! I've had this idea in my head for a while regarding the Shot Down AU, which you can read the first part of here. I just needed a little nudge (and a day off) to get it down on paper.

12: “try and eat, if you can. it’ll make you feel better.” B: grief 𓃓 : at work, far later than you should be

Trigger warnings: A non-graphic conversation discussing a (possible) sexual assault.

If she was younger, she'd have tried to hide under this blanket they'd given her, if she could. But hiding wasn't going to help much here, even if the fear was just the same as when you were five. Worse, even. She knew how bad it was - and she had a pretty good idea of how much worse it could get.

Cord pulled the wool closer around her shoulders, still trying to take everything in. The last week had been a bit of a blur, too many split second decisions and faces and changes of scenery and none of it anything that made sense. And finally a leather chair in a nicely appointed office, and a well-turned out officer with beautifully combed hair, offering her a cigarette and asking, with a smile, the same question everyone kept asking every single time they saw her - what is a nice American girl like you doing here?

Here - a field near the Weser river, a police station, with a sergeant making urgent calls to his superiors, wondering what to do, the polished office of the Luftwaffe adjutant, being presented a beautiful open silver cigarette case, a prisoner of war camp for downed American airmen. And everywhere she went, everyone staring in a way she could never hope to hide from.

The car had dropped her at the front gate, one of the guards opening the door for her like this was a state dinner and not a stalag. (The officer in the front seat was still smiling. She was going to hate that smile forever.)

A familiar voice from along the fence. "Callaway? Cord Callaway? Jesus Christ, what the hell are you doing here?"

She hadn't known whether to collapse or cry. One familiar thing was all she needed, even if it wasn't the familiar thing she longed for. (It had been silly, to think he'd be here. It was a big war.) "Same thing as you, Crank."

Some wiseass along the fence line straightened up. "Is that a girl?"

"Christ almighty." Crank read the crowd and quickly grabbed her arm, quickly throwing his hat over her head. "Let's get you out of here."

Here - a small bunk room with an unfinished wooden table, several benches, and a small stove giving off very little heat, surrounded by men she had, until an hour ago, only been able to hope she'd see again. The curtains were drawn and Benny DeMarco was fussing with a pot of water on the stove trying to make a cup of tea and everyone was silently shuffling around trying to take up as little space as possible.

Everyone except Bucky, anyway.

She didn't know what she'd been expecting, or if she'd even been expecting anything at all. But he'd come breezing in asking about new arrivals, his temple swollen and purple, stopped cold when he saw her, and then turned on his heel and walked straight back out. The last time she'd seen him had been in a hotel room in Knightsbridge, naked and smiling at her across a pair of very flat pillows, begging one last kiss, joking that it should have been him that was leaving for work, that he'd find something to do with himself until she came back, that his train was a late one and they'd have time for dinner.

They didn't have time for dinner. After work had never come - only a note about something coming up, and an earlier train, and now, again, she had so many questions. Why did you leave why didn't you stay what happened to your face Bucky what have they done to you does it hurt why won't you speak to me look at me stay with me where are you going God what have I done.

Another group of faces appeared in the door, and Cord stood up on instinct, seeing the silver eagle on a garrison cap and the way the others followed him into the room, her arm snapping just so.

"At ease." He almost looked impressed. "I'm Colonel Clark - I'm the ranking officer here. I'm here to welcome you to Stalag Luft Three."

"Lieutenant Cordelia Callaway, sir."

Clark nodded and looked around at the others. "Usually we get a little bit more advance notice when there are new arrivals expected, but I think given the circumstances they may have wanted a surprise. I think these gentlemen all know that usually you'd start in the leadership block for processing."

"I thought it'd be better to get her straight inside, sir," Crank said, standing up. "Before the others started something."

Colonel Clark nodded. "Probably wise. I understand you all know each other."

"That's right, sir." That was Gale. "She's one of our traffic control officers, back at home."

"That may be, but it doesn't explain what she was doing on a plane." Clark's patience sounded thin.

"She was a pilot before the war, sir, a derby - "

"-And is she going to speak for herself at some point here, or are you gentlemen just going to keep talking for her? I assume she has her own voice." Clark fixed Cordelia with a clear-eyed gaze, and when he spoke again, directly to her this time, his voice was softer. "I seem to recall there was a Callaway at Wright Patterson for some time. An engineer in their advanced aeronautics research division. Had a daughter who also flew some speed tests."

"That was me, sir. Wilson Callaway is my father."

"They're not stupid, so I assume they asked you about all that already."

Cord swallowed, remembering the long, long wait in the cell, the whispers outside the door. You're not on any of the flight rosters for the plane you were found with, Miss Callaway. How are we to know you are not a spy? There is an article in the Dayton paper about a Cordelia Callaway joining up, and how her father is proud. I am to assume this is you. We are aware of Wilson Callaway's work on alloys - his latest paper was a triumph. A shame it could not be published as it should have been in the better scientific journals. I wonder what kind of father lets his daughter do such dangerous work. But then girls are more expendable than boys.

"Yes, sir." She could feel the temperature in the room drop the same way it dropped when someone talked about classified intelligence sources or Norden bombsights. "I …haven't been involved in my father's research for a while now. Anything I know is old news."

"Do you want to tell me what you were thinking assigning yourself to a gunner position on a bombing run when the official policy is that women don't fly combat missions?"

"I wasn't, sir." The truth, cold and real. "Thinking. And I wasn't tail gunning." That was true, too, and it felt important that he know that. The Germans hadn't been interested in that. "I was front seat. A man was sick and got sent in, and Jacobs didn't want to fly with the guy they were going to send instead. And I wanted to do something, sir." Her voice hitched. "Ten days ago, all my friends were dead."

Clark nodded. "Did anyone touch you during interrogation? Sexually advance or assault you in any way?"

"Jesus, Colonel." Demarco's voice was biting.

"I have to ask so it can be reported to the proper authorities, Captain, " Clark shot back, "And I need to be direct. If something has happened the Red Cross and the Army will want to know." His voice came back down a level. "Please answer the question, Lieutenant."

Everyone was still staring, but no one knew where to look. Cord swallowed and looked the senior officer square in the eye. "No one touched me, Colonel, or assaulted me." A couple of them touched themselves, but not me. I don't speak German but I know what a dirty joke sounds like. And I think by now I know the word for whore. "The worst they did directly is to not address me by my rank, even though I was wearing insignia. And they talked about taking away my uniform, but decided against it. I think it was too much work to find me a skirt."

"They don't think much of women in trousers here," Clark allowed. "Well, I don't have to tell you you've put us in one hell of a position, Lieutenant. There isn't a procedure for this, or accommodation. The Army might have gotten facilities for you but what I have here I have to share among a thousand men. There is no privacy, no guarantee of safety, and no locked doors. When they left you at that gate they made their position on the subject pretty clear - they don't care."

"We've got her, sir." Gale's voice was all calm waters. How did he do that so well?

Clark nodded and glanced around the room. "I'll have a runner come back later to fill out a card for the Red Cross, so your father will be notified. And we'll get you a cup, utensils, see what we can do about some warmer clothes. The others can fill you in on food and sleeping arrangements and the latrine rotation."

He and his group left, and the room seemed to sigh. Cord still didn't want to look at anyone, the question itself still invasive, vulnerable. Did anyone touch you? Were you assaulted?

"Someone say there was a baseball game later?" DeMarco's voice sounded too bright, and the others were too quick to join him, almost the entire room shuffling back outside until it was just her and one other person. (They had been exchanging glances, above her head, a silent consensus that she needed to be alone.) A hunk of what might have been bread appeared at her elbow, grayish-brown and uninviting. "Eat something," Gale suggested, once the room was empty. "You'll feel better. They do that to everyone who comes in."

"Ask about being raped?"

"Well, that …is a new one," Gale allowed. Cord was all tension and coil, angry, frightened, still trying to fight and also to hide. I'm an officer and I know how this works, Gale. I listened to Red's lectures even when I knew I wouldn't need them. I know I'm supposed to be able to tell the Colonel the last disposition of the war in England. I know I'm supposed to have news, that he's supposed to ask me if I learned anything while I was outside, if I had any papers with me, if they learned anything from what I said. But he hardly asked me anything.

And the man who said he loved me didn't ask me anything at all. Maybe he'd forgotten that, the way he'd whispered into her hair as she was falling asleep- I love you so much. But she hadn't forgotten. Hell, it was half the reason she was here. "Gale, what happened to Bucky?"

He took a breath. "I'll let him tell you," he said, as casual as he could be. "There's some tea, here, if you -"

"He's not going to tell me, he wouldn't even look at me." Wouldn't even stay in the same damn room.

The pilot sighed. "Give him time, Cord. It's…a lot to take in. It'll take a few days. Right now he's…angry."

"Angry at me."

"He was angry when he got here," Gale assured her. "He's angry at himself. He's good at that - you know that." He glanced at the stove, moved the kettle off to the side. "We'll make it work, Cord. You know we will. Now eat that, and when you're done eating I'll… give you a tour."

When they returned from their walk the room had changed - games put away and plates out on the table for dinner. At one place there was a knitted cap, laid out carefully, like a talisman. "Bucky thought you could use that," Frank offered, glancing over the top of his book. "Until we can cut your hair, anyway. Said you could have his bunk, too - 'cause it's got a view of the door."

Cord traced the lines of the knitting, and glanced over at the bunk she'd been told earlier was Bucky's, the wooden frame just those few precious inches longer than the rest. The blanket she'd been using earlier was already there, neatly folded. The man himself, of course, was nowhere in sight. How small the world gets - a knitted hat, a hotel bed. Why do you think I got into that plane, Bucky? It was the only way I could say I love you back.

[exaltedfuzz]

Someone already pointed out that you always tend to draw Lana tired and I agree, it feels just right!

Because Lana takes care of Ema and the household since she was a She cooks healthy because of Ema, listens to Ema‘s school day, plays with her, helps her when she has a question because of her school work.

All of that while remaining the top of her class in law school. She has so much responsibility and Lana doesn‘t even seem like the person that complained at least once because of it. And also remember that a lot of colleagues, like Angel Starr, used to look up to her. She endures the responsibility and she‘s honestly such a great role model for me!

Not to put Mia Fey down, but consider this: in contrast to Mia, who had at least her aunt Fey to teach her all of this stuff, Lana probably had no one. In contrast to Mia, who actually left Maya live alone, Lana took care of Ema.

Lana Skye is underrated, so f* underrated.

Thanks for liking the way I draw Lana! I think, yeah... She'd be exhausted. Full-time everything. I don't know that I'd call her a role model, considering how RFTA goes, though... Admirable, sure! But, you know... The whole evidence forgery and desecration of a corpse deal might lose her a couple points in the role model department.

It is super nice to imagine what it was like for Ema growing up! I really wish we got to see them interacting outside of RFTA. Maybe in AA7, though I'm not sure I'd trust the AA5-6 team to pull it off. More hopefully, maybe in the anime! I can't believe RFTA just didn't get an adaptation. I guess it is a bit of a sidestep from the trilogy narrative. Hopefully when (if?) AJ gets adapted, they'll do RFTA as a primer to introduce Ema. Maybe we'd get treated to some filler fluff, to make how Lana is in RFTA really punch you in the gut.

I don't know that Lana was as profoundly alone the whole time as she could have been, either. It says in RFTA that Jake was very close to her and that Neil was like her own brother (and that Jake was nice to Ema), so I figure they would have been some help. And Lana has that coroner friend in Germany who Ema lived with between RFTA and AJ (really wish we got to meet her! All we know is that she's a top coroner, a woman, and in Europe, from Lana's end credits of RFTA dialogue), so it seems like she had a bit of a support circle, which is nice to think about.

It's interesting what you say about Mia. I have some thoughts on that, actually. I wouldn't say what she went through would have been much easier. I think that while Lana's approach is to grin and bear it, and take the path of least resistance, which involves just getting on with it and looking after Ema without searching for any help in that, Mia's is very confrontational of her circumstances. The reason she leaves Maya is to find Misty, to clear her name and to try to reclaim that family she's lost. I imagine Maya would have lived with Morgan too.

A thing I've been thinking, actually, is that Morgan would probably have been delighted to see Mia go off to become a hotshot lawyer, in some ways. Gets the number one heir to the Kurain channelling school out of her hair if she ends up acclimatising to city life and settling down. This would probably be why Morgan never tried to kill Maya until 2-2, since there was the chance Maya would go off and join her sister, just leaving Pearl to take up the mantle.

I guess after Mia dies, it'd be reasonable to assume Maya would get scared off from leaving the village, so Morgan would have to take things into her own hands. So I think Maya probably, though lonely, didn't get off too badly. Morgan wouldn't hurt her if Mia was alive, either, because we see that Mia does get crazy intense at times. There's that little comic (not sure where from) where she snaps the (kendo?) sword over Nick, for one, and there's also her (IIRC) punching Grossberg in T&T... Or, at least, that piece of official art where she's dragging Nick around by his scarf. If anything happened to Maya, Mia would probably strangle Morgan. Then, as well, Pearl says she met Mia. So Mia must have been visiting a bit.

It's a very different context that both Lana and Mia operate in... At the end of the day, the most important thing for both characters is their family, and what they see as the best thing to do for them. Don't pit two GOATs against each other...

Anyway, whoops. Most of this was about Mia. Super glad you like my Lana stuff! I think she's a wonderful character, and definitely underrated.

[abrushwithdeath]

((So, long awaited life update on why I haven't really been around in the last couple months:

I've been working full time all year when I was only supposed to be doing part time- this is fine, though, because the extra money is good and my sister and I finally booked a trip for next summer that we've been trying to save money for for 8 or 9 years, so that's great! But that does mean that I have a little less time than anticipated, and as a night owl who now has to be used to being up between 5:30 and 6 in the morning to get ready for work, that adjustment hasn't been easy ^^; But it's been made even LESS easy by the fact that about a month ago we took in a tiny kitten who was crying underneath our house. We named him Remy (after the one and only Remy LeBeau <3) and I love him dearly... but kittens are also a lot of work because they get into EVERYTHING. And they're so small that they can fit in small spaces that you didn't expect. On top of that, he's had to be quarantined since we got him because he still hasn't been tested for FIV (he had an appointment for his shots and a check up at the beginning of the month and my sister was supposed to ask them to test for FIV while she was there but she didn't... so now he has to wait until I take him next Tuesday for his second round of shots and see if they can do it while he's there THIS time). Being quarantined has meant we've had to keep him in one room at all times (which is what we would have done, anyway, while he's this little- it also allows for slower meetings of the older cats which will help them possibly get along better when they're finally around one another more). We will also be getting another kitten if he tests negative for FIV because it's not good to have just one kitten under 6 months, even with older cats around (there's something called "Only Kitten Syndrome" and it can lead to a lot of behavioral issues). Anyway- because of watching him, I've been only getting 4 or 5 hours of sleep a night every night for a month and it's running me a bit ragged ^^; Then there's the worse stuff (tw: death, cancer, for those who want to avoid those and stop here): Early last month my grandmother passed away pretty unexpectedly after a week or two in the hospital recovering from a fall. Come to find out she'd had a stroke (and had been having a lot of mini ones that she didn't know were strokes and kept playing off as just "old age") and every time they stabilized her, she got bad again soon after. There was no funeral or anything, which somehow feels worse and has consistently given me this weird feeling of "did this really happen or not?" because I didn't even get a chance to see her in the hospital before she passed. My father also had a bunch of polyps removed from his intestines over the summer and the largest one came back testing positive for cancer. They just this week ran more tests and, thankfully, they cancer hasn't spread to his heart or lungs, but they DO need to do a pretty big surgery to remove a piece of his intestine very near to his colon which is a risky procedure because patients are more likely to bleed out when the surgery is done in that area. After the surgery, he'll be in the hospital for a few days to recover and for them to keep an eye on him, and then he'll have 6 weeks in which he can't really do anything except rest because he'll risk injuring himself and/or internal bleeding. Last week, my aunt's partner (they weren't married, but they had been together for 7 or so years) passed away and, while that didn't have a big impact on me (because I didn't know him well), it was still rough on her and some other family members, so that was also... not great.

But, yeah. It's been a rough couple of months and I'm very, very, tired. I do want to come back because I miss writing Rogue, but it's gonna be a little bit longer, especially with all the things going on with my dad. Thank you all for your patience and understanding in the mean time <3))

[jhilsara]

I Can See You

Pt. 1/ Pt. 2/ Pt. 3/ Pt. 4/ Pt. 5/pt. 6/Pt. 7/Pt. 8/Pt. 9/ Pt. 10/

Pt. 11/ Pt.12/Pt.13/Pt. 14/Pt.15/Pt.16/Pt.17/END

Mariana Jimenez-Watson or MJ works in a normal pub living life paycheck to paycheck. Nothing exciting happens to her except the occasional drunk getting thrown out. She's 24 working away and finds a wrench thrown into her very boring life. His name is Hobie and she thinks maybe, a little excitement isn't awful. In fact she might start to crave some change for once.

Small moments of Hobie meeting his world's MJ. AKA I made an MJ variant and I think she's neat.

Chapter 6

It’s late, or early. She isn’t really certain. She is more than sure she's exhausted.

MJ is dragging her feet trying to get home at three in the morning. She’s ready to pass out after the shift she'd had at the pub. It had been a long night and it doesn't help that she's been on edge at work since some creepy man had tried to attack her. Not the highlight of her time working as a bartender.

The police did eventually show up and apprehend the man. Andy and Lars had stayed behind to call him in and also explain what happened. Her lead manager that had been dismissive of MJ's worries was promptly fired after. The owner apparently was not made aware of any of her concerns. Lars also wasn't alone as the bouncer anymore. The owner had hired two security posts for every night now, hoping to dissuade another incident.  

MJ's therapist had more than enough to unpack with her that month. She did feel leaps better after the owner profusely apologized about the lead manager ignoring her worries. That made her feel more supported.

Truly after her long shift, she just wants to go home. She was making plans to herself to put on her big hoodie and crawl into her warm bed after the hottest shower. Maybe even have a little snack. 

She slides her key into the door and is almost drooling at the thought of her soft, plushy bed. She shuffles in and trips over something in the entryway. She looks down and almost screams when she sees Hobie leaning against her wall and bleeding out on her floor. It looks like a crime scene with the lights off.

She throws her bag on the ground and turns on her light. She squats down in front of him checking his pulse making sure he’s alive. She moves to grab his face, holding it gently to make him look at her. His face was dirty, caked in blood and grime. Blood dripping down his forehead and lips. 

“Hey, hey, Hobie. I need you to look at me right now.” She pleads, voice a little pitched.

He barely peels his eyes open, he’s looking at her, but not really. More like he’s looking through her. He grunts in response. His eyes are blurry and she doesn't think he knows where he even is. 

“How long have you been here?” She asks moving his hand to look at the wound he’s been clutching at his side. There’s a decent pool of blood underneath him that looks to have been sitting there for a while.

“Couple a minutes, an hour… I don’t know…” He murmurs, his head lolling off to the side. His eyes start closing again, clearly a losing fight to stay awake. Which she needs him awake because she has no idea if he has a concussion. 

“Hey, nu-uh, you can’t do that right now. I need you to be present with me okay? I don’t know where you’re hurt.” She whispers to him. She holds his head back up, forcing him to look at her. Her brows furrowed in concern.

He nods his head, struggling to keep his eyes open. He's only half listening to her, but he is doing as she asks. 

Since finding out Hobie was Spider-Man he had started a habit of using her home like a 24/7 clinic. The first time he rolled into her home she yelled at him as he tumbled face first into her rug. She had to learn how to clean and dress wounds on the spot. She chastised him all the way through it. He scared the living daylights out of her and on top of that he just sat there laughing like it wasn't a big deal.

This though, this is the worst she’s seen him. There's so much blood and he doesn't look okay at all. His eyes can't focus on her and the distant look in his eyes scares her.

She moves to grab her medical kit, “What happened?” she prods trying to figure out what trouble he got into. 

“Not a big deal,” He tries to shrug but hisses in pain, “just got nicked by the Goblin is all.” He replies slurring his words together.

She bends down next to him and gives a disappointed look. “It is a big deal if you’re bleeding out on my floor.” She tells him with a slight scoff. “Can you take your shirt off or do I need to cut it?” she asks him digging around for her safety scissors.

He gives a soft chuckle but does as he’s told. His top clings to his skin and it's sticky where his bloods dried. He groans in pain as he peels the dried blood off of him with his top. “We should go on a date before I strip for ya.” He teases.

She rolls her eyes, “If you’re coherent enough to joke I should be meaner to you.” She mumbles to herself.

She grabs some alcohol to clean up his injury with from her medical kit. She soaks up a soft hand towel to start cleaning around his wounds.

“Oh come on, ya love it.” He says reaching for her hand so she’ll look up at him.

Her fierce gaze flashes to him and his face falters a bit. She knows she's being harsh, but she's never seen him so beat up. It scares her. Maybe it's because she childishly believes he's invincible. This is a hard moment as she realizes he can get hurt.

“What I would love right now, is for you to shut up so I can clean you up enough for you to take a shower without bleedin’ all over my bathroom.” She states giving him a pointed look. 

He nods his head silently and lets her work.

She cleans the area surrounding his wound, he’s mostly stopped bleeding but it’s a nasty gash. Once it’s clean she can disinfect. She looks closer at his wound and assesses his face too. He’s got a few good scraps along his brow bone and one of his piercings definitely looks like it’s caused some damage. Almost like his eyebrow piercing ripped out.

She quietly continues to work, ignoring Hobie’s grunts and hisses of pain as she cleans his face. Her brow furrowed in concentration. She's afraid if she pauses and looks him in the eye she won't be able to finish. She wants to scream at him to be more careful, but she also just wants to hold him tightly and protect him.

“Anywhere else that was bleedin’?” she asks him softly.

He shakes his head no. She pats his thigh reassuringly. “Go take a shower and let me know when you’re done. I need to bandage you but you need a shower first.” She tells him.

He groans but lets her help him stand up. “Don’t leave a mess in there alright?” she teases him lightly.

“No promises, I’m pretty grimy.” He jokes as he shuts the bathroom door.

She smiles and turns to grab the discarded pieces of his suit. She throws them in her washer and waits to run it when she can grab the rest of it from the bathroom. She moves to set up the couch for him to sleep on.

There’s no way she was letting him go back this late after just dressing his injuries. She grabs her spare sheets and blankets, preparing the couch for him. She throws one of her pillows down for him as well.

She hears the bathroom door creak after a while and turns to see him poking his head out. He already looks a lot better. Relief washes over her and she relaxes a bit. She grabs the medical kit again and goes to wrap him up.

Hobie leans his weight against her bathroom counter. He's just in a towel wrapped lazily around his waist.

She takes a deep breath and adjusts her eyes up. She forgot to give him clothes. Her face is burning but she tries to refocus on bandaging him.

“You look better already.” She comments. She grabs the gauze and bandages to wrap him. She’s so close to him, eye level with his broad chest. She should be used to it by now but her ears are burning. She can feel his eyes on her, and he gives a halfhearted chuckle.

“I feel better that’s for sure.” He murmurs.

She starts to wrap him, eyes trying to keep focused on her task, and not lower to where the towel is barely hanging on his hips. She's definitely not looking over his toned body. She can keep her eyes focused, this is not the time to be checking him out. 

She’s so intentional with every motion. She’s slow and deliberate, making sure she treats his wounds correctly.

She doesn’t notice him move until she feels him brush her hair off her shoulders. The action has her taking a shuddering breath. She looks up at him questioningly.

His own face is in scrunched up in thought. He keeps her hair between his fingers as he looks lost in his own head.

She finishes wrapping his chest before looking back up at him. She gently uses her hand to make him turn to look at her.

“So serious, what’s rattling around in that brain?” She tries to joke, but it falls into more of a genuine question. Her voice quiet.

He looks at her face and meets her question with silence. Contemplating his own response. He stares at her and he’s doing that thing again. He’s looking at her in a way that feels like he’s peeling back layers of her soul, exposing herself to him. She feels barren and unguarded, it scares her.

“Nothin’. Just thinkin’. Brain got all rattle remember?” He says softly tapping his brow. He immediately regrets it, hissing as he hits his own injury.

She gives a soft giggle and lets it slide for the moment. She reaches up, “Let me bandage that, your piercing got pretty fucked right there.” She tells him focusing her attention on that.

He hums in agreement. His hands coming down to grip the counter edge. His grips is so tight it leaves small cracks along her counter. Clearly trying to hide how much he's been hurting tonight. He's a good patient in that he never complains, but sometimes she wished she did. Maybe he just has a high pain tolerance or maybe he just doesn't want her to worry. She'd worry regardless though.

At the end of the day, she'd still rather him crawl into her window every night regardless of his injuries. At least she'd know he was alive. See his chest rise and fall as he breathes.

When she’s done she looks at him, his eyes have just been burning holes into her. She flushes for a moment, she was so lost in thought she didn't notice him staring. Their faces are so close, too close. She swallows hard and takes a step back, “I’ll uh, I’ll grab some spare clothes you’ve left here before… I can just throw your suit in the wash.” She tells him softly, her face burning.

She turns to go into her room, grabbing his clothes and returning to shove them in his hands. He hands over his own dirtied and blood-stained suit to her.

“Thanks Mariana.” He tells her softly pulling her into him with a one armed hugged. For someone so injured, his grip was still strong. 

A chill runs down her spine at him using her name, “It’s no big deal.” She mutters returning the embrace.

She moves away to close the bathroom door and she leans against it. Her head hitting the door as she looks up trying to control her rapidly beating heart.

He can’t keep looking at her with those big brown eyes that crack her open. If he does she might have to acknowledge the fact she’s starting to like him.

She doesn’t think she can handle those far too big feelings right now. So, she shoves them down, under the surface. She can’t think about him like that.