#i get he works longer hours than me but if hes got a problem w it or needs help THEN FUCKING SAY THAT!!!! i dont pick up on

[possum-tooth]

aita for doing the dishes

[wraithdance]

Stray Dogs | GHOAP x Reader

Synopsis: You never had a problem with strays, but you should have been wary of the rabid dogs begging to be leashed.

Note: AFAB!Reader, No phys. description but reader has background story, no y/n use or gender terms for reader, Reader is LGBTQ (Bi/Pan) w/ Avoidant attachment issues. Content warning: Mature | domestic partner violence and harassment, avoidant attachment traits, mentions of sickness/vomiting, sexually explicit content, mentions of p in v sex, alcohol consumption/misuse & physical violence.

Chapter One: Soap Comes Over

Foxy won’t stop calling you.

The first attempt to reach you after the breakup started two weeks after dead silence. You’d been in the middle of a presentation at work when the phone rang. Thankfully you had the foresight to keep the ringer on silent, but you’d been checking your email when her contact lights up the screen. 

You freeze. 

“Do you need to get that?” Your boss Marc had interrupted the poor intern going over the quarter projections. His startling gray eyes bore into you as he looks down his nose. He raises a thick brow when you forget to answer, it’s mocking and layered. 

It pulls you out of your stupor long enough to put your cell on do not disturb. You flip the offending object face down on the table before giving Marc an apologetic half smile.

“No sir, sorry about that, it can wait.”

He looks at you for a beat longer than polite then signals the nervous intern to go on.

From the corner of your eye you can see your assistant Eric cutting eyes at you from beside you at the conference table. You meet his look head on with a deadpan expression of your own. It doesn’t deter him from mouthing ‘what the hell?’

You ignore him. 

It’s not like you had an answer yourself. You’d been dealing with the impending episode that came with a doomed relationship as best you could. So, you didn’t know why she was calling you when she’d made it clear she wanted nothing to do with you. Your mind was unfocused throughout the rest of the meeting. 

You accept the call that comes in when you’re walking to your office.

“Why wouldn’t you pick up the fucking phone?!” She screams into your ear as soon as the call connects. It makes you pause in your trek.

What the hell?

“Fox-" you clear your throat and cover the slip up. “Taylor, I’m at work. I can’t just pick up whenever, you called me during an important meet-”

She screams into the receiver loud enough you need to bring the speaker away from your ear. Margarita from accounting gives you a startled look as she passes, having heard.

Shit.

You flash your coworker a disarming smile and placing the phone at the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

“Hi Margs, are we still on for happy hour next week?” 

Margarita laughs, swatting you with the manila folder in her hand.

“Of course someone’s got to keep you from climbing onto the tabletops.” she winks.

That causes you to wince in embarrassment. The after effects of the impromptu tequila shot contest during the last happy hour had not been your finest moment. (You couldn’t turn down a double dog dare though, you weren’t a coward.)

“Okay, I’ll see you there Margs, I have to wrap up this call.” You return her retreating wave and press the phone back to your ear. 

You frown in confusion.

“Foxy?” A glance at the screen shows you that she’d hung up. Strange. You don’t have to wonder what happened for long before the texts start flooding in.

> you never fucking cared about me did you.

You know it’s meant to be a statement not a question. You’re typing a response when the next texts come in rapid succession. 

> How have you already moved on so soon??? you’re such a fucking bitch!! >I hate you >I HATE YOU

You’d barely made it to a restroom before vomiting. 

You meet your dead eyes in the executive bathroom mirror, rinsing cold water in your mouth and spitting into the ornate sink. Your mascara is smudged from the tears prickling the corner of your lashes. Worse is the full body shaking and gut churning panic that takes over your limbs.

Double shit.

You text Marc that you’d be working from home the rest of the day. He asks why and you cite a family emergency taking priority. You’re not sure if he believes you but you chance it nonetheless.

You answer Foxy’s calls the first days after. Reasoning with her on the validity of her claims of you never having cared for her is met with more screaming and hysterical crying on her end.

When you finally block her you’re riddled with guilt and anxiety so intense it zings through you. Foxy starts calling from an unknown number after that.

You spend the rest of the day in bed with your phone off. Your muscles hurt from staying in the fetal position, you’re sweating profusely under the comforter despite the freezing temperatures in your flat. It’s almost a blessing when you lose track of time and falter in and out of restless sleep.

Until Duckie calls your work phone when you don’t respond about her dinner thing to meet her new boyfriend. You’d done your best to skirt around the topic but your usually laissez-faire friend is irritated at your noncommittal answers. 

She snaps at you and you know it’s warranted. You’d already had a talk about pushing past your anxieties and being more forthcoming with her.

Still you panic and hang up on her.

This time you don’t make it to the bathroom when you’re suddenly sick. Your left leg is on fire where you’d landed on it in your hurry to get out of bed. You’re frantically scrubbing puke out of your good throw rug on the bathroom floor, waiting for Duckie to pick up your Video call.

Her ocean blue glasses fill up the screen before she sits back enough for you to see her scowling round face. You’re sobbing before she can say a word.

“She won’t stop fucking calling me!”

Duckie blinks in confusion, anger momentarily forgotten.

“What? Darling I can barely understand you, who won’t stop calling?”

“Foxy!” You cry out, “She’s called me 48 times since this morning, I haven’t slept through the night since last Thursday and there’s puke on my new rug!” 

Duckie comes over and helps you change your phone number. 

Your teeth chatter on the line with the overly cheery agent at your phone company. Duckie rubs soothing circles on your trembling back, a frown unnatural on her usually smiling face. It takes several hours of promises and consuming everything Duckie sets in front of you before she’s willing to leave you alone again.

“Darling, call me if anything else happens okay? I’m serious. I’m still pissed at you for not telling me she was harassing you like that. You really need to talk to me.”

You’d like to object to that.

The threads of self loathing already tighten around your body with the fact that you needed her support already. You don’t tell her that though. You kiss her cheeks and follow her to the door. Swearing you’d call her the second anything else happened and confirm the day you’d be free for dinner.

The second the door closes behind her the energy saps out of your body. You slink to the floor in your foyer in a boneless heap. 

Triple shit.

Foxy starts showing up to your house.

She hadn’t taken being ignored very well and had banged on your door, demanding you come out and speak to her.

You’d finally opened the door when your neighbor texted that they would be calling the police if you didn’t get her under control. Foxy launched at you the second you came into view.

Your cheek still sports from the slap she’d managed to half connect before you shifted your face. 

You’d managed to push her out of your home and lock the door to your apartment, dodging her clawed fingers as best you could. She kicked and screamed obscenities at the door while you’d called the police yourself. Unsurprisingly by the time the police showed up she’d gone. You write a report nonetheless.

After another week you’d been hopeful she’d gotten the hint and would leave you alone for good. Your sweet neighbor Mrs. Henderly had stopped you on the way to work whispering that a woman had been digging through your planter.

The planter where you kept your spare key.

Despite having the locks changed you’re still paranoid. It’s why you’re currently in a bar near your home, sipping on ginger ale and watching a fight break out.

After some thought you come to the conclusion that Johnny MacTavish is like a rooster. 

You watch him puff out his chest to strut around like the biggest cock in the yard in the overcrowded space. From where you’re sitting at the bar you can tell the restraint he has over his muscles, it’s in his carefully controlled motions and showy posturing. His choice of hair is just a laughable coincidence when you think about it.

If Duckie were here you’d know she’d agree with you.

She’d nervously giggle and make some terrible joke about wondering if he was overcompensating that you’d scoff at. Your gaze runs down the firm expanse of his broad shoulders in his blank t-shirt and his jean covered thighs. You take a sip of your drink and shudder. He was the size of a tank, it would be a cruel twist of fate for him to be a lousy fuck.

Still, watching him beat a man to a pulp with single minded focus makes you think of your grandfather's prized cock fighting rooster. The bird was the center of a terrible memory and you hadn’t thought about him or your late maternal grandfather in years. Until now, in the dingy bar nearly a decade later. 

Johnny circles his downed prey like a bloodthirsty game fowl, the drunken crowd jeers in excitement while a waitress screams for help stopping the brawl.

There’s a startling unhinged quality to Johnny’s eyes as he lays a succession of blows on the man who’d called you a cunt for denying his advances.

The drunk had been loud and getting more and more aggressive with you when you told him to leave you alone. You’d been at your breaking point preparing to smash your glass in his face when Johnny's right hook came out of nowhere to connect to the bastard's face.

Johnny's pupils are blown out and his smile bright as he takes fists and returns them with triple the fervor. Occasionally his glacial blue eyes bore into yours, making sure that you’re still watching. 

A knight, waging war in your honor. 

You’d never been a damsel before, it’s something you mull over as you watch the bartender and other patrons wrestle Johnny from atop the now unconscious man on the floor. 

You close your tab and follow where they manhandle him outside.

Johnny’s knuckles are raw and split. He doesn’t seem to notice or care as he takes out a cigarette and attempts to ignite it with a cheap lighter. When the blood from his knuckles causes his thumb to slip on the spark wheel he curses into the night. You step forward from your place just inside the bar door and he watches your approach with lidded interest.

Taking the lighter from his hands you wipe it on the side of your black jeans, before holding the lighter to his mouth.

He was definitely far from a knight, you think, observing him from under your lashes. He stares back openly without blinking as he puffs the cigarette to fire. His focus makes your heart beat thunderously in your chest.

“Do ye smoke?” He tilts the cigarette in an offer. You shake your head with a smile. 

“No, bad habit.”

He laughs, it’s humorless, layered with something more. “Ar’nt most things?” 

You make a noncommittal sound, not really caring to consider it. You’re content to watch him, watch you. It’s a game of chicken you’re used to playing with most men, testing their resolve. Johnny doesn’t flinch or look away and you like that.

The eye contact is broken by the sound of the bar door opening. The noise from inside spills out in the night as two men struggle to carry the limp form between them. The man Johnny pummeled into a pulp is barely conscious, stumbling on his unsteady feet. 

His head lolls to the side and you watch the eye that isn’t blackened widen when he takes in Johnny and you. 

‘Fockin’ bastard I’m gonna fockin’ kill ya!” He slurs out.

The man thrashes, kicking his feet and all in an attempt to escape the two hand carry. Johnny just laughs meanly puffing on the cigarette without a fuck to give. 

“I’m gonna fuck your slag too, see how she likes taking real cock you Irish fuck!”

The crazed look in Johnny's eyes is back as he flicks the still smoking cigarette into the bushes.

“Ya mam is the only one who wants a turn on yer howlin’ cock!” Johnny barks out darkly “c’mere I’ll black your other eye for ya, ye fuckin’ bawbag!”

You’re smiling when you place a hand on his chest stopping him from charging forward. 

No, he’s definitely not a knight at all.

But you won’t be satisfied until you’ve ridden his cock nonetheless.

He sees it in your expression when he looks at you. A muscle in his jaw jumps when his eyes dart between your parted mouth and the man who’d insulted you both, weighing out the desire to war or kiss it better. 

You know he chooses the latter when he cups a hand on the back of your neck, tilting your head back to force your face close to his. 

“What’s yer name hen?”

You tell him. He gives you his (you know it, you’ve been watching him at the bar since you'd come in.) He tells you to call him Soap if you want, you raise a brow at that but shrug. It wasn’t your business you’ll never see him again after tonight.

“Okay, my place or yours?”

You have to pass the bruised and drunken man to get to the path of your apartment. Despite his previous bravado he flinches when Johnny crowds him, silently daring him to say a word. 

“I’m nae Irish, I’m Scottish ya daft fucker. I see ya even pissin’ distance near here again and I’ll put ye down like a fuckin’ dog.” 

One of the other men puts a hand out to Johnny's chest to put some distance between the two. Johnny brushes it off with a sneer but takes the hand you offer him. He follows you silently through the darkened night and you laugh to yourself.

Definitely not a knight at all.

Johnny takes up space in your apartment like he pays bills in it. His big legs spread out on the couch, one hand tapping rhythmically on his bouncing thigh while the other holds your remote with your floral throw pillow tucked under his arm. He's clicking through channels with half attention.

Your mouth twitches when he lands on Planet Earth with a grunt. While he’s engrossed in the mating instincts of primates you top off your drinks with ice, juice for you and leftover wine for Johnny.

He pulls you into his lap when you go to hand him his cup, you allow it with a breathy laugh. Johnny takes a sip of the red wine before wrinkling his nose and taking a sniff of your cup instead.

“Are ye trying to get me drunk bonnie? Why’re ye nae drinking too?”

“I don't drink anymore.” you reply with a shrug that’s meant to be unceremonious.

You hadn’t had a drink since Duckie threatened you with an intervention after finding you blacked out one too many days in a row. Your breakup with your ex-girlfriend had opened up old wounds already, but the constant harassment stressed you out enough. 

Regrettably, you’d exhausted all of your therapy options, so drinking was the only thing you could think of to self medicate. Now, you didn’t have anything harder than a mocktail. Simple as that. 

“Here we can share mine.”

You take quick sips of your juice and hand the cup to Johnny, taking his mug in hand and placing it on the coffee table. He thanks you and gulps some down and passing the cup back to you. This goes on for a while until the cup is empty. Johnny palms your ass through your jeans when you set the empty glass aside. You roll your hips against his crotch slowly, bracing your hands on his knees to rock and swirl into his hardening cock with added pressure.

He groans and slides his big palms up to your waist gripping tight and thrusting up into your covered core. 

“Och, hen keep movin’ like that and I’ll give ye somethin’ to sit on.” You snort out a laugh. 

That’s the point. 

You look at the time displayed on the screensaver of the television. It was 3am on a Saturday. Which means you had about seven hours until your support group and the rest of the day to prepare for Duckie’s ‘meet the man’ dinner. So, technically you had less than 2 hours to milk Johnny of all the cum in his body and send him on his way so you could sleep.  

Tight turn around but you’ve worked with less.

With that in mind you climb out of Johnny’s lap standing in front of him, ignoring his protests. He doesn’t pout for long as he watches you lift your shirt and toss it aside. His blue eyes glaze over with want as you reach for the buttons of your jeans and slide them down your thighs along with your panties. He makes a guttural noise between a groan and a curse when you unhook your bra last, dropping it to the floor beside you.

The poor man is conflicted between looking between your legs at your soaked thighs and making eyes at your hardening nipples with the cute jewelry that decorates them. He finally settles on palming his cock under his pants and reaching out to palm your belly moving to cup your cunt. You stop him, tapping your foot against his shoe (which makes you scrunch your nose up, he should have taken them off at the door.)

“Pretty boy, eyes up here and take your clothes off.”

Leaning back on the couch, Johnny scoffs with petulant indignation, “Ye dinnae have to sweeten me up just to ask to see my prick hen.”

That gets you laughing outright, “Not trying to sweeten you up, you are very pretty, baby.”

You reach over to card your fingers through his short mohawk and down the sides, scratching his scalp as you go. “Besides, If you didn’t want me to see your ‘prick’ you wouldn’t be here now would you?” 

Johnny’s ears turn flame red as he leans back to accept more of your gentle stroking, his dark lashes flutter concealing the vibrant blue of his eyes from view. It’s cute. You’d been so sure he’d be the type to preen under compliments but his boyish embarrassment and openness is refreshing. 

“C’mere bonnie thing let me get a look at ye.”

You aren’t expecting it when he wraps his big hands around the curve of your ass, swinging your body down to the couch beneath him in seconds.

Your muscles lock up under the sudden shift and the feel of his heavy mass pressed against your body. His arms cage around your head and his face is close for you to smell the lingering scent of cigarette smoke and his cologne. It brings memories of another time and place you fight to keep buried. 

The effort makes your stomach churn violently.

Your hands press against the wall of Johnny’s chest frantically pushing him back, struggling to stay calm. Johnny sees the unconcealed panic on your face and the shallow breaths you take in. He immediately lifts off to lean back on his haunches on the couch cushions, giving you space. Still, you scoot as far back as you can to the other end of the couch to try and steady your racing heartbeat. The sudden whiplash of memories and fear makes you light headed.

“Lass are ye a’right?"

You blink trying to clear the sudden brain fog.

A wide eyes Johnny rubs soothing hands on the sides of your calves watching your face for any sign of discomfort. Your throat is tight and you miss the opportunity to answer him in a timely fashion. It causes him to reach a hand up to your face which you flinch from, his dark brows furrow. The sudden concern in his expression makes the palms of your hand sweat in discomfort.

Fuck.

“Are ye a’right?” Johnny asks again, this time not allowing you to back away from his touch. His calloused hands leave warmth in their wake as he rubs down your arm.

“Yes I’m sorry, I’m good.” You wave him off not looking at him directly. “I just prefer to be on top. I should have said something earlier.”

“Hen are ye sure? Ye look like ye were having a momen- creepin’ Jesus!” Johnny jerks when you dart forward to reach inside his pants and stroke his softening cock back to life.

You didn’t have time for him to ask daunting  questions that would freak you out to answer. You had approximately -you glance at the clock- an hour and sixteen minutes to ride this pony and put him out to pasture. 

You were on a mission so you bring out the big guns.

“I’m good Johnny, I just got a little overwhelmed, I promise. I still want you if you want me.” You pout, pumping his rigid cock with one hand and trailing a manicured finger down his bicep with the other (why the hell they were so large, only the universe knows). The angle is a bit awkward but it successfully overwhelms his senses by the way his breathing catches.

You’re able to shimmy on to your knees to press  chaste kisses along his jawline and throat, watching his eyes cloud over completely.

“You still want me Johnny?” You whisper in his ear.

Johnny answers your teasing by grasping the back of your neck and pressing your mouth open with a demanding kiss. His tongue tastes sweet with the remnants of the juice, he shudders when you suck on his tongue pulling back and forth like you were taking his cock. He groans deep and loud in your mouth when you squeeze the base of his cock in a tight grip.

“Fuck- aye I want ye hen, 

Hook. Line. Sinker. 

You try not to smile when he pushes you back to hurry and discard his clothing in record time. He was pretty everywhere it seemed. Down to the thick patch of dark hair on his belly that transitioned to his trimmed pubes. His tanned body is riddled with scars that add to the roguish appeal that caught your eyes in the bar.

You let out an appreciative sound when his cock finally comes into view. He was girthy and uncut, the veins along his shaft prominent in a way that made your mouth water. The head leaked pre-cum out of the pinked tip like a faucet. 

“Ye like what you see I ken?” Johnny smiles wolfishly, showing teeth.

“Yeah,” you snort, “that’s not even a question, I like it a lot.”

He stops you from reaching for him again with a hand to your wrist. His eyes are searching and you know he’s going to ask if you were lying about being okay, so you beat him to the punch.

“I’m okay, I swear I just panicked a little, it's no big deal. If you want to make it up to me you can give me a kiss right here.” You take his hand and guide it to your drenched cunt, spreading his fingers to glide through the slick from your entrance to your clit, as you roll your hips.

‘Fuck’ you both whisper in tandem. Johnny doesn’t waste another minute and pushes you back against the couch, diving to lap at your folds with a flat tongue.

Your head lays back on the arm of the couch and you sigh. Another look at the clock shows you have at least a full hour left. It’s not ideal, but you think you can work with it. With that in mind you stroke Johnny’s head in encouragement, whispering how good he made you feel and gasping at the sensations pulsating through you.

Finally, the muscles that had been taut for weeks relaxed. This was good. You’ll get the itch scratched after an orgasm or two and blissfully slumbering in no time.

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[captainfantasticalright]

Another Sir Terry Pratchett interview on the details of writing Good Omens with Neil Gaiman. (More about this process x).

Question about how he goes about collaborating with someone else .

Terry: “You make them do what you want”.

Gary Cornell came up with something very apposite talking about working together, he says : It’s not that (each) of you does 50% of the work, each of you does 90% of the work.

Um. The way we did it then, and I can’t really speak as an expert because it's the only time I’ve ever done it and other people do it in different ways, it wasn’t a case of, the way the Americans tend to do it, um, is one person writes a draft and the other person goes in and noodles with that draft. We did the whole thing from the ground up; each was doing bits. The ad hoc way we had of working, it’s simple: I’ve got a track record writing novels, Neil hadn’t. So I became like the editor, the taskmaster. Because the other thing is the practical problem about two people 120 miles apart doing something, is that, um, it would be different now, but in those days we had no reliable means of electronic communication. We could connect computers together with modems and then spend the whole evening at cross purpose and ringing each other up and saying “I’m getting lots of little faces and shit like that all over..”

Three quarters of an hour and about eight phone calls, you actually managed to transmit about 2000 words you could have actually phoned and sneezed in a morse code.

[w]hen we were doing the first draft of the film script, we were both members of CompuServe so crappy our BT rural lines that the quick efficient way was for me to go into CompuServe and leave the work I’d done in Neil’s mailbox on the computer in Ohio or someplace and later that evening he would dial CompuServe in America and download it from Ohio or wherever it was.

So in order to get the script 120 miles, electronically it was doing about 10000. This is from the global village.

What we would do is I would hold the master copy and sometimes work would have to stop for 24 hours because stuff was in the post, because the nightmare, the absolute nightmare which I knew would happen if we let it, was that somehow we’d end up with two master copies in existence with little, minute changes, and we’d never be able to spot which was which.

So the last thing we wanted was two master copies, and we worked on the phone who did what. I did a bit more than Neil, of that anyway. But, it also felt to me to be an awful lot of the glue that no one wanted to do because it was easy to do set piece scenes and written on a kind of, on the kind of plot somewhere you get A and B to F and X and Y across to C T. And that really is like 3000 words where you have to move people around and then,you know, shove extra bits in; so I ended up probably doing near 75% of the book.

I would probably say because it’s, because had we’ve done it any other way it would’ve been like three months longer to do.

Also part of the process from another interview with Terry Pratchett:

Q: Let's talk a bit about the book you collaborated with Neil Gaiman on: Good Omens. That was before email, so how did it work on a practical basis? What was the most challenging aspect of writing with someone else?

I'm sure what I have to say will echo what Neil has said. When two people work on a book, it isn't a case where each one does 50% of the work. Each one does 100% of the work. There are some bits in Good Omens which I know are mine. There are some bits in Good Omens which I know are Neil's. There are some bits which were Neil's idea which I wrote, and there are some bits which were my idea which Neil wrote. Some bits we no longer know exactly whose ideas they were, or who wrote them. By the time we'd gone through all the drafts, it had been written by some sort of composite entity. We wrote it in the 14th century. We each had one phone line and a 1200 baud modem. We'd work it out: "OK, you send, I'll receive." Sometimes it would take 20 minutes to half an hour before we could send the stuff. It would have been cheaper and easier to have rung each other up and sneezed out the text in Morse Code. I was the Keeper of the Disks. I insisted that there should only be one official version in existence at any time. The moment it split into two, we would be in dead trouble. But Neil would sometimes send me a disk with 2000 words, saying " This is the scene with so and so -- insert it here." It more or less worked. It took us about six weeks to do the first draft. I think it worked because, at the time, we were each making a name for ourselves in our respective fields. It's not that we didn't take it seriously. But we were relaxed. We thought we would earn some holiday money by doing it. The nice thing about collaborating is that there is one other person in the world who is thinking about the exact same thing that you are thinking about. We both have a similar reading background, I suppose. It was quite rare when one of us came up with something that the other guy didn't know about. So we could bounce ideas off one another quite easily.

[miguel-ohara-lover]

Miguel ohara x spiderwoman/single mom reader, where she brings her baby to work at the spider society

Ooooh yes yes yes. I thrive on dad!Miguel so this is amazing.

Miguel x Spider-Woman W/ a Baby

CW: Fluff, dad!Miguel, reader has a baby, Mig is a little tough at first but don’t worry… slight angst cuz of Gabi

I had to ask my mom some stuff cuz… I don’t know shit about babies… also I might have projected a little towards the end don’t mind me…

Part two

It’s not uncommon for spider-people to bring their children to the spider society. Hell, that’s what the day passes are for. Peter B started the trend with Mayday, and after that many spiders wanted to bring their little ones too.

Today you were no different, deciding to bring your baby girl, Alice, to the society. You knew of all places in the multiverse she’d be the safest here. A few folks were surprised to see you with the baby, some cooing and saying she’s adorable, but most kept to themselves.

You headed to the boss’s office, grabbing a coffee from the cafeteria along the way. You needed to make sure you weren’t assigned any missions today. As you walked in, Miguel turned to you to see what you needed, a familiar frown settling on his face when he saw your baby.

He had never liked all the spider people bringing their children. I mean, who would after what he’s been through. Peter seemed to love torturing him with Mayday constantly, but Miguel would never admit it hurt. You noticed the look and chose to keep some distance.

After a few seconds you spoke. “Hey, Miguel, I was just popping in to ask if I have any missions today?”

“Actually…” He turns to one of his screens. “You just got one. In an hour.”

“What? I can’t do a mission today, I have my daughter with me.”

“That’s not my problem.” Miguel doesn’t turn to look at you again. You huff and look around the room while debating what you should do, Alice cooing a little and looking around the unfamiliar room as well.

“Maybe… you could watch her?”

Miguel groaned a little. “Me? Why me?”

“Well I trust you’d keep her safe, boss. And she seems to like you.” You gesture to Alice making the cutest grabby hands at the big scary man. That makes Miguel’s hard outer shell crumble a little, images of his daughter flashing in his mind.

“Hm… how long…?”

“However long the mission is.” You smiled.

Miguel sighed. “Fine… fine… leave her with me…” He lowered his platform more and got down, holding his arms out to take the baby. You carefully handed off the baby to him, and he holds her expertly. He knew what he was doing.

You smiled up at him, a slight blush on your cheeks. “Thank you so much, Miguel.” Alice giggled and cooed at Miguel, waving her little hands at him. All he did was nod to you as a response, his eyes on the baby. You give her a gentle kiss to the forehead before heading off to get ready for your mission.

———

After the mission

———

You returned from your surprisingly easy mission, heading straight for Miguel’s office to retrieve your baby. When you walk in you see Miguel on his platform, holding Alice against his shoulder. He’s gently bouncing her and singing in Spanish, lulling her to sleep. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

Miguel notices you and placed a finger to his lips, telling you to stay quiet. Once the baby was asleep he spoke in a very quiet whisper.

“You we’re gone longer than I thought you’d be, y/n. Run into any trouble?”

You shook your head no. “The mission was pretty easy, surprisingly.”

“That’s good. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to Alice’s mami.” His eyes were still on your baby, hand on her back as he continued to gently rock and bounce her as she slept so peacefully.

You look up at Miguel. “You make a lovely dad.” He froze for a moment and looked at you.

“Really…?” Is all he said. Your smile grew and you nodded. The corners of his mouth slowly turned up, and for the first time since you’ve known him, Miguel smiled. A real genuine smile.

You swing up to his platform and place a gentle hand on his free shoulder. He glanced at your hand, a little confused by the gesture. There’s a slight blush on his cheeks, and you could tell you finally cracked through those walls he had put up.

“I’m sure her father wouldn’t enjoy this.” He tried to pull away from you, tried to put his walls back up.

You shook your head again. “Her father isn’t in the picture…”

“Really? What kind of father would abandon his daughter?” His red eyes almost seem to glow as anger fills him. He couldn’t imagine a dad causing harm, mentally or otherwise, to his own child. The thought made him sick, made him want to hunt down your ex and-

“Hey.” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Don’t worry about it. She’ll have you…” You gave him a gentle smile. Miguel was surprised at that, but it made him happy. He loved the idea of being in Alice’s life more, of being a father figure to her.

“Would you… perhaps like to get dinner later?” Miguel looked into your eyes, and you could see the anger dissipating, being replaced with love.

“I’d love that.” You lean up and give him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

[jaemified]

TAKING ME HIGH (ANGEL)

“fuck. you really couldnt wait an hour?”

☆ pairing ; dior employee minghao x flight attendant fem reader

☆ genre ; smut (minors dni!!), porn w plot, est relationship

☆ warnings ; swearing, smoking, oral (m receiving)((giving head under the table)), handjob, haos mean, readers bratty, praise kink if ya squint, degrading, pet names (baby, pretty girl, angel, sweet girl, pretty baby, brat, slut), hair pulling

☆ wordcount ; 2.0k

☆ synopsis ; after being away from your boyfriend for almost a literal week thanks to your job, you want nothing more than him in every possible way. but when he finds himself picking his games over you, you come to a compromise; sneaking under the table while hes distracted.

READ BELOW THE CUT

it wasnt like your boyfriend didnt spoil you.

i mean, you were pretty fucking spoiled considering he was one of diors top employees. he always made sure to bring you home a ‘small’ gift coming out of his bonus after a successful sale at work.

and by small, he means one of the most expensive perfumes or shoes he knows youd love.

of course you were grateful for the gifts and all, it wasnt like it was one sided seeing as you always brought him back some luxury brand when you took part in flights across the world BUT, all you really wanted was his attention.

youre his perfect angel, you both knew that. but no amount of gifts can satisfy how much you craved him and his touch after a long 7 days without him.

finally, you were coming home. not that you were really gone that long. but when you’re a flight attendant for 10 different 12 hour long flights, its without a doubt you’ll be tired beyond belief.

you were so excited to see minghao, wanting nothing more than to cuddle with him in your warm bed.

that was, until you called him at least.

you realized you wanted way more.

you facetimed minghao as you stepped into your taxi on the way to your apartment complex, plugging your earbuds into your phone.

“hi baby. im so excited to see you! im about a half hour away.”

“me too, i bet you did so good at work. i got a surprise waiting for you. where are you? driving?” he mumbled, seeming distracted.

“im in a taxi, ill put it on my card though. what are you up to? you sound distracted. could you turn on your cam for me?”

“huh? oh yeah no problem, sorry. i just- damn it! wonwoo, get mingyu! hes right behind you!” minghao shouted, startling you as his loud voice rang through your ears.

you sighed, of course hes playing games.

“is this better?” he asked with a sweet but slightly confused tone.

there he was, your boyfriend. you couldnt even believe he was yours. he wasnt even doing anything, just sitting there with his phone propped up as he yelled at his computer.

“y/n?”

“huh? oh sorry.. you look..”

“great? i know.” he chuckled.

great was an understatement. hes heavenly. with his black fitted tank top, his sunglasses resting on top of his black cap.

you pressed your thighs together at the way his muscles flexed whenever he gripped his mouse.

minghao glanced over at you, smirking lazily as he lit up a cigarette he pulled from his desk drawer.

“smoking again?”

“coulda smoked with you if you were already here.”

“im not a stoner like you. its occasional.”

“isnt today an occasion?”

“...”

you both kept it short, with you being the one to hang up seeing as you were in semi public and totally not because you were growing more and more horny seeing minghao in that stupid tank top.

you made sure to tip the driver before you had rushed to the entrance of the building, barely able to wait any longer to see minghao (amongst other things).

you opened your door to your shared bedroom, and there he was.

“hey baby, how was work?” he asked half minded as he barely turned to notice you.

“it was so damn tiring. missed you.” you mumbled, walking over to your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaving a peck on his cheek.

“yeah missed you too sweet girl. fuck- chan! oh my god, revive me or i swear i wont buy you food for the rest of the month.”

“i thought itd be us today?” you pouted.

“it is, angel. whatever you want pretty baby. just give me a few minutes yeah?”

and so you waited,

and waited.

and waited some more

it felt like an eternity had passed (it was barely over an hour) yet you were growing needier by the second watching the way his muscles flexed, and the way his voice sounded, or especially the way he’d groan and throw his head back whenever he lost.

‘id kill to see him like that while i was doing something else..’ you mumbled

until,

a lightbulb went off in your head

slowly, you made your way to minghaos desk, pecking his soft lips before crawling under the table to kneel in front of him.

“what are you doing angel?” he asked with a warning tone.

“nothing. dont mind me.” you hummed as you reached out to untie the drawstrings on his sweatpants.

“y/n- god. just keep it down wont you?” he whispered looking down at you, then back at his computer screen as he saw a new game was starting.

you smiled to yourself knowing you were getting what you wanted, for the most part.

you pulled down his sweatpants, pressing a kiss on minghaos inner thigh, mumbling a ‘thank you’ as he lifted up his hips to make it easier for you remove the grey piece of clothing.

you kissed up from his knee, all the way up to his bulge before rubbing your thumb over his clothed tip, where a wet patch began to grow.

minghao brought one hand down to your head, gripping your hair. “stop teasing and just take it out already.” he muttered as he brought your face closer to him.

“i thought it was anything i wanted?” you mocked.

he only rolled his eyes and released his grip on your hair to return back to his keyboard.

you pull down his boxers, sighing in contentment as a drop of precum hits your cheek.

slowly, you wrap your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue around and swallowing what leaked out his slit.

you focused most of your attention on his tip knowing how sensitive he was before going down and taking as much as you could, feeling him deep in your throat.

minghao bit back a choked moan, you were able to feel how his body stiffened up.

“what? yeah im good. i just slammed my hand on my desk.” he brushed it off to his friends.

then, you noticed how hard he was trying to not get caught when you were hardly doing anything. so you wanted to try something — see how far you could go before he snaps.

you bob your head up and down his length, running your hand wherever your mouth couldnt reach.

seeing how he wasnt reacting as much anymore, you slowly pull off his dick. that was, up until you felt your boyfriends tight grip on your hair, moving you the way he wants you.

he held your head still as he fucked up into your mouth, letting out occasional low whimpers.

“hao- seriously, you seem so distracted like we might as well just kick you out the party.” mingyu joked.

“shut up gyu you arent even on our team.”

noticing the conversation between him and his friends, you thought youd stop for a few seconds just to take a breather, before he grips your hair harshly to keep you still, chuckling at how tears formed in the corners of your eyes when he started to thrust his hips up harder against the back of your throat.

“hes kinda right though, you keep dying twice every other round and spend most of your time just standing in the corner.” wonwoo spoke up before everyone else in the team muttered in agreement.

“whatever. im muting, hold on.”

he typed something into his keyboard before removing his headset, and looking down at you.

he stops his movements and releases your hair when you look up at him, his hard dick still resting in your warm mouth.

“what are we gonna do with you, huh sweet angel?”

you whined, rubbing your thighs together before pulling off him and replacing your movements with your hand, stroking him softly, giving him a squeeze.

“god- youre such a fucking brat.” he groaned as you sped up your pace. “fuck- you really couldnt wait an hour?”

“cant. missed you too much. need you so, so badly..” you moaned as you watched the amount of precum leaking from his tip, lowering your head to lick it up.

“yeah? youre an impatient slut huh? couldnt wait for my cock? is that it?” he scoffed.

minghao takes one more puff of the joint he lit earlier before putting it out and throwing away the bud, blowing the smoke up towards the ceiling.

he puts his hand over yours, stopping your wrist before whispering in your ear,

“if you dont make me cum in 5 minutes, youre not cumming at all.”

[jerzwriter]

To Love & over Protect - Tobias x Casey HC

It took me three years to tell the story of how my messy kids finally got together. By the time they did, they were so in love with a solid foundation of friendship beneath them. The honeymoon period was intense; however, nothing is perfect, and transitioning from friends to so much more comes with its challenges. So, I decided it was time to finally write those stories, too. The first story was Money, Money and this second was a little jealous. This may be the last one, but never say never!

Book: Open Heart (Book 2 Timeline) Pairing: Tobias Carrick x Casey MacTavish (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 1,900 Summary: The chemical attack was over six months ago, and Casey is trying to adjust to her new normal with her new boyfriend at her side. The problem is? He thinks he needs to be there 24/7, and as sweet as it is, Casey needs him to understand, she can still take care of herself.

Tobias x Casey Masterlist Open Heart Masterlist Full Masterlist

Tobias glanced at his phone for the fifth time in as many minutes. Finally, the confirmation arrived, but not the one he wanted to see. The car he had arranged to pick Casey up from work at Edenbrook was stuck in traffic in Charlestown and wouldn’t be there on time. In fact, it was unlikely he’d be there for another hour.

“Fuck,” he muttered, leaning back in his office chair.

He’d ask her to wait, but he knew her too well. She’d tell him she knew how to get home and that she had managed to do so before he came into her life. She could take the T. It was nice out; she could even stand the 40-minute walk. He could just hear her. Tobias, I’ll be fine. And chances are she was right. But he wasn’t wasn’t about to take chances, not with her.

He sent her a quick text. Hey, hon. Getting out of work a little early. Wait for me; I’ll pick you up.

It wasn't exactly a lie, he was leaving early, it just wasn't planned until a second before. He opened his laptop, rescheduled a meeting or two, and ensured his patients had coverage. Then he rushed to the elevator, a full four hours before his shift was scheduled to end. He got off at the garage level, walking to his car at a rapid pace. Edenbrook was only an eleven-minute drive from Mass Kenmore, but with traffic, that could nearly double. He looked at his watch. It was 7:00 PM, and the sun wouldn't set for another ninety minutes. Surely she'd be fine. He knew he was overreacting, but he couldn't help it.

Therapy had gone a long way, but some memories could never be erased, no matter how much he wished they could. He was a doctor; he knew the signs, and he saw them in Casey that dreadful night. Her skin was no longer pale but became an ashen shade of grey. Her extremities took on a tinge of blue, and her breathing became shallow. Disorientation and lethargy had set in; she couldn’t focus on a conversation the last time he walked away from her in the containment room. He wasn’t even sure she knew he was there. That’s when he knew they had hours, not days, to unravel a mystery doctors better than him had never been able to solve, and the healthy fear that was driving him quickly morphed into terror.

The odds were against them, but he walked away from her with a promise in his heart and his heart in his throat. They’d find a cure. He’d find it. He’d see her again; he had to. They weren’t even on speaking terms prior to the attack, and that was no one’s fault but his own. But that didn't stop him from loving her. He may have been too clueless, too foolish, or too scared to admit it before, but there was no way he could deny it now. Tobias Carrick, Boston's most notorious confirmed bachelor loved Dr. Casey MacTavish with all his heart... and she didn’t even know.

The elevator door closed, and he had one minute. One minute to fall apart, to allow his body to tremble and his tears to flow. One minute to let the hopelessness wash over him and to pray to God for a miracle with all his might. But when the door opened, that luxury ended. The miracle was dependent on mere mortals; it depended on him. Never seeing the woman he loved alive again was not an option... her dying without even knowing how he felt was unacceptable. So he went to work.

The story had a happy ending, or as happy as it could be. An antidote was found, Casey survived, and their friendship flourished. In the dark days and months that followed, he was there for her, her rock ensuring she'd get through. It turned out that she loved him, too, and he had no idea just how much joy that would bring.

His Casey. She was his, and he was hers... but this was the real world, and he knew happily ever after didn’t exist, but dragons certainly did. They could appear at any time, be waiting around any corner, and they kept him up at night. He couldn’t shake the anxiety that gripped him. The mere thought of her in danger again filled him with a dread he couldn’t control, casting a shadow over the new life they were trying to lead.

Casey wasn't blind to it. She saw the signs and did all that she could to reassure him. She could handle herself, but Tobias couldn’t let it go. She was no longer to take the T. Boston's subway was too unpredictable, too full of potential danger. He had drivers on call to take her anywhere she needed to go when he couldn’t drive her himself. He even had groceries delivered to her apartment when he wasn't able to join her for errands. While Casey found it sweet and endearing at first, it was starting to wear on her, and she knew it was taking a toll on him, too.

When he arrived at the Edenbrook, his heart warmed as he watched her slide into the passenger seat beside him. She may have been exhausted after a long day, but she was radiant. She flashed that smile that lit up his entire world, and his heart skipped a beat. She was happy, healthy, alive, safe... and now she was here, with him.

“Hi, babe,” she greeted, leaning across the console for a quick kiss. “So, you’re my driver again?”

Tobias forced a smile, knowing what was coming next, but he could take the ribbing, as long as she was safe. He gently brushed stray strands of hair away from her face. God. He loved her.

“Hey, baby. How was your day?”

“Long,” she sighed, running a hand through her hair. “But good. I can’t complain. Though, I think I’ve forgotten what it’s like to get home from work by myself. Might have to retrain myself soon.”

He chuckled half-heartedly and took her hand. She could tease him all she wanted to. At least he knew she was safe. But as they drove to her apartment, it was impossible to ignore how quiet she had become. Something was on her mind, and he feared he knew precisely what it was.

They found a parking spot, and she invited him in. Kicking her shoes off at the door, she headed directly to her room, collapsing onto the bed with a groan. Tobias lay down beside her, gently caressing her arm. He couldn’t have been happier to be by her side, but his heart was still racing, and he knew they needed to talk.

“Casey,” he said softly. She turned to him, her eyes warm and patient. “I know I’ve been… a bit much lately.”

She raised an eyebrow, lips curving into a small smile. “A bit?”

“Okay, maybe more than a bit,” he admitted.

“Considering the fact that you’re not supposed to be at work for another three hours and you offered to accompany me to the bathroom, I’d say it’s more than a bit.”

“I just… I can’t help it, baby. I know you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself, but...”

“But?” She said, reaching to touch his cheek.

“I can’t stand the thought of anything bad happening to you, Casey. Not after everything… I need to protect you. I need to keep you safe. Having you hurt or, God forbid, losing you... it's not an option."

She reached for his hand. “I know, Tobias. I know you're doing all this because you care about me, and I love you for it. But you have to understand—this is no way to live. For either of us.”

“I’m afraid, Casey,” he said, his voice trembling with a vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to show. “I’m terrified that one day something will happen, and I won’t be able to save you.”

Tears welled up in Casey’s eyes as she leaned in closer, cupping his face in her hand. “You already saved me, hon. You saved my life and spent the months following showing me how to live again. I’m here because of you in more ways than one. But now, I need you to help me return to the real world, and I can’t do that if you’re constantly trying to protect me from it.”

He looked into her eyes, the weight of her words seeping in. She was right, of course. He’d been so focused on keeping her safe that he hadn’t realized he was suffocating both of them in the process. This was no way for them to live.

“You’re right,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. I wanted to help bring you back to life, not prevent you from living it.”

“Don’t you dare apologize for loving me and caring about me,” she replied. “But promise me you’ll work on this, OK? Talk to your therapist if you have to. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Tobias nodded, pulling her into his arms and burying his face in her hair. “I promise. I’ll do better. I just… I love you so much, Casey. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“You can’t guarantee that,” he sighed, his head filling with visions of that night against his will.

“Hey,” she said, forcing him to look her in the eye. “No day is promised to any of us, T, but there is only so much we can control. You know I’ll take care of myself, and I know you’ll do your part, too. But the rest... if we spend all our time worrying about all the things that can go wrong, we’ll never enjoy the time that we have. I don’t blame you, baby. We both went through a terrible ordeal, and it will take time to heal. But I have faith in you. I have faith in us."

He looked at her, his face twisted with all the emotions he was feeling at that moment, but the most prominent of them all was love.

“I love you, baby. I don’t have a ton of experience with this relationship stuff, and, well, ours got off to an eventful start....”

“It sure did,” she smiled. “And it’s not easy, but it will only make us stronger.”

Tobias's arms encircled her, and he pulled her as close as she could; Casey snuggled closer to him, relishing his closeness, his warmth.

“You mind if I stay over here tonight, kid?”

“Why,” she giggled. “Do you want to be with me, or are you just protecting me?”

“Oh,” he growled, rolling on top of her, his lips meeting hers in a passionate kiss. “I want to be with you all right. But two things can be true. I’m happy to protect you while I’m here... you can protect me, too, if that makes you feel better.”

“It does. I love you,” she smiled, giving him another tender kiss, then pulled back with an impish twinkle in her eye. Now, with all of this talk of protection... please tell me you have some on you because, if you’re staying, I have some fun activities in mind."

"You may not know this," he smiled, reaching into his pant pocket. "But I was a Boy Scout. I'm always prepared."

"And that's one of the things I love about you," she laughed, gripping his hands as they toyed with the hem of her shirt. But seriously, baby, promise you'll talk to your therapist. I want us both to heal from this. We have a beautiful life ahead."

He leaned in to kiss her forehead. "We sure do, and I'm not going to let anything, even my fear, get in our way."

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[ladykailitha]

All My Roads Lead Back to You Part 2

We get to see a little bit more about the work Dustin and Steve do and Steve gets the shock of his life.

Part 1

***

Steve loved his job and getting to work with his best friend made it all the more awesome. Thankfully his Platonic soulmate wasn’t around to hear him say that.

But she was coming to visit this weekend and that was always made for a great time.

He stopped by the development team to say hi.

“Dusty!” he greeted warmly. “Hey, man! What’s up?”

Dustin gave him a hug. “Hey! I didn’t know you’d be in today. How’s my favorite god daughter?”

Steve laughed. “Don’t let Lily Byers hear you say that.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Well considering she’s in China with her badass parents at the moment, she’ll never know.”

Steve batted his eyelashes at innocently.

“Right, Steve?” Dustin asked. “She’ll never know, because you won’t tell her, right?”

Steve held out for two seconds longer. “Of course not. Her mother still carries that Russian pistol of hers. I’m not about to start beef between the two girls.”

Dustin just shook his head. “I always thought it was interesting that the only ones of our Party to have girls was you and Nancy and Jonathan.”

“As Max would say, ‘too many boys’,” Steve agreed. “Like she didn’t have three of her own.”

“All tall with red hair and freckles,” Dustin said.

“My daughter is doing just fine,” Steve murmured. “She’s finally found a replacement for Lauren in her band.”

Dustin smiled. “That’s great. They come up with a name yet?”

Steve shook his head. “Nope. I think right now they’ve been calling themselves The Band.”

“Ouch.”

“So the real reason for this visit is...” Steve said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other nervously, “I was wondering if you had ear plugs I could use for their practice. I know I can just turn off my aid, but that does jack shit for my right ear.”

Dustin laughed. “Yeah, man. I’ve got you covered.” He went over to the design table and picked up a small grey box. He turned and handed it to Steve.

“They’re smooth with a flared base so they’ll slot gently into the canal,” Dustin explained. “You’d have to take out your aid or you just use the one. It’s up to you.”

Steve weighed them appreciatively. “Thanks, Dusty.”

“No problem,” he said with a grin. “I can’t imagine having to listen to a bunch of teenagers playing their instruments badly for a couple of hours.”

Steve grimaced. “What’s worse is that they haven’t figured out their style yet, so it’s a discordant mess of genres.”

Dustin made a face. “That’s rough, man.”

“How are you and Suzie getting along these days?” Steve asked gently.

Dustin sighed. “It’s official, she can’t have kids.”

Steve winced. “Even with in vitro?

“Yeah,” he replied mournfully. “We’re thinking adopting next.”

Steve nodded. “Let me know if you guys need anything right?” He squeezed Dustin’s arm in sympathy.

Dustin nodded.

Steve said goodbye and got back to work. He put the ear plugs in his briefcase so he wouldn’t forget to take them home. He shook his head. All his life he fought hard against being a business man like his dad. But it turns out that he’s good at it. Damn good at it.

He signed good morning to his receptionist, Vanessa.

“Good morning, sir,” she said, her voice a little off, the way it can some times get when you can’t hear yourself. “You have your ten o’clock appointment in fifteen minutes, but your lunch meeting canceled. Death in the family.”

Steve sighed. He signed back, “Send flowers and condolences and see if they want to reschedule. We need their micro chips.”

Vanessa saluted smartly and Steve flipped her off. He walked into his office and flopped into his chair with a sigh. He loved Vanessa. She had been with him since he went public with his hearing loss.

They had a great professional relationship and her husband, Nick loved Steve, too. He would tease her that he love Steve more than her and swore that he got Steve if they ever divorced.

Nick was hearing but his parents weren’t and that’s why Nick was Steve’s personal sign interpreter for his clients. Because Steve couldn’t be everywhere and he employed a lot of HOH and deaf people. Which he had gotten flak for when they first started. How would a deaf person be valuable to an audio company? And that was one of the reasons, Steve had come out as hard of hearing.

Because Steve was the reason S&D existed at all. As at the time he found out about his hearing loss, even the best hearing aids at the time were bulky, had a tinny quality to them, and were prohibitively expensive.

So of course big brained Dustin Henderson looked at them and said, “I could do better than that with a box of scraps in my mom’s basement.” And did. But the other thing Dustin was and still is, was mouthy. He couldn’t get investors to pay attention because he would end up getting mad and storm out.

Which is where Steve came in. He could sweet talk anyone. Was kinda famous for it, in fact.

There was a knock on his door and he looked over at the phone on his desk. It was flashing red. His appointment was here.

Steve stood up and greeted them with his most charming Harrington smile.

“Thank you for coming in today,” he said brightly. “Shall we get started?”

*

Steve got home from work to find Edith already home and doing her school work.

“Hey, sweetie,” he said kissing the top of her head. “How was school?”

“Hey, Dad,” she greeted. “It was okay. Algebra should be banned from schools forever.”

Steve got out a pitcher of water from the fridge and poured himself a glass. “Still having trouble with it?”

Edith sighed. “Yeah. It’s such a pain in the ass.”

“What did I tell you about swearing?” Steve asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Not until I’m an adult and not until I’ve moved out,” she grumbled. “Which ever comes last.”

Steve grinned. “Good girl. It’s more about trying to teach you that there are some places that won’t let you swear, like at certain places of business. And getting used to curbing your language will help with that.”

She sighed dramatically. “I know.”

He ruffled her hair and kissed the top of her head again. “Your band coming over tonight?”

“Yeah,” she said. “If that’s alright? I know you said only once a week but we need to make sure that garage will be okay to practice in.”

Steve laughed. “I’m aware.”

Edith rolled her eyes. “Like you know what being in a band is like.”

He swatted at her. “I know you think I live under a rock but I had friend that was in a band before I married your mother.”

She eyed him skeptically. “Are they famous?”

“No,” Steve said solemnly. “Their bus rolled over and killed their bassist before they got the chance.”

Edith’s eyes went wide. “You mean like Metallica?!”

That startled Steve out of his funk. “Yeah, like Metallica, only not. Because they decided that they couldn’t continue without their friend and hung it all up.”

“That’s too bad,” she said. “I’m not sure I would have been able to go on playing if Mandy or Kenny died.”

He nodded. “Just let me know if you guys need anything.”

“Will do!”

*

Steve could hear the band tuning their instruments and smiled. He paused. His face felt tight around his eyes and that wasn’t a good sign. He didn’t want a migraine at his little girl’s first band practice here at the house. That would be bad.

He took some Ibuprofen and hoped that would stave it off long enough until practice was over.

He then went out to the garage to say hi to everyone. He stopped at the bottom of the steps and his heart plummeted to his stomach. Standing there tuning a guitar Steve knew better than his own god damn name was a young man of about sixteen or seventeen with dark curly brown hair that fell about to his chin, big brown eyes and dimples in his cheeks.

“Dad!” Edith cried out. “Hey I want you to meet someone.”

Steve somehow managed to walk over to Edith’s friend. “Hey,” he greeted lamely.

He couldn’t remember if Dustin had said if Eddie had a kid. But this boy couldn’t be anyone else’s.

“H-man,” she said excitedly. “This is my dad, Steve Harrington.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said and Steve stomach dropped out further. His voice was almost the same, too.

“Dad, this is Harri Munson,” Edith said. “Mostly we call him H-man.”

Munson. There it was. There was no doubt now. This was Eddie Munson’s boy. The swooping feeling in his stomach became a roar.

“I met him in art class about a month ago,” she continued happily. “I learned he played guitar and I told him about our band and he was super excited to join. Which was great because after Lauren’s backstabbing–”

“Migraine,” he managed to croak to Edith before he dashed off.

Edith grimaced. “Sorry you had to see that. My dad gets migraines sometimes and I guess today is one of them. Poor bastard.”

Harri winced. “My papa used to get migraines, too. That sucks. Are we going to be able to still practice?”

Edith nodded. “Yeah, he said it would be fine. We just can’t turn up the sound to eleven.”

Harri laughed. “Gotcha.”

“You gonna need a ride home after?” Edith asked, not seeing a car.

“Nah,” Harri said. “My dad wants to meet your dad. Make sure I’m not going to get murdered or kidnapped or whatever.”

Edith rolled her eyes. “I know how that is. My dad is super protective too. Like I swear he went through major trauma he refuses to tell me about.”

Harri nodded. “Stupid NDAs is all Dad will say when I ask.”

“Yes! My dad, too!”

They both laughed.

The band started playing and about half way through they decided to stop and take a break.

Just then a car pulled up. It was slick black muscle car that made Mandy, the band’s resident gearhead whistle long and low.

“Who’s honey child is that?” she asked appreciatively.

Harri raised an eyebrow at her. “That’s my dad’s car.”

Edith frowned. “He’s not here to pick you up yet, right?”

Harri shook his head. “No, like I said he wanted to meet your dad.”

She nodded.

***

Part 3  Part 4 Part 5  Part 6 Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10 Part 11  Part 12  Part 13 Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18  Epilogue

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk​ @trashpocket @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @mightbeasleep @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666  @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @steddie-as-they-go @lillemilly @callas-shitshow @bisexualdisastersworld @renaissan-vvitch

[cielcius]

writing this out so I can do homework in peace. mm maybe minors dont interact w this one. unedited 

bakugou doesn’t usually have one night stands. he’s often too busy to even be thinking about that stuff but when he was forced to take pto, he found himself on the summer sandy shores of a beach off some island a few hours away from home. the air was cool in the spot he chose in the shade of the trees, switching between lounging in the sounds of the waves and diving in to feel the cool water currents rush against him.

then came you. settling into a spot right under the sun with a few friends who chose to splash around in the water whilst you stayed behind. he was laying on his back, shades pushing his drying bangs back with a book to occupy him. he only looked over when he heard a small moan, eyes peering over in time to catch you stretching across the towel laid out beneath you before turning onto your stomach to scroll through your phone.

maybe it’s the amount of free time he has, the lack of communication with his friends who are all still working, or just pent-up un-dealt feelings, but bakugou couldn’t stop looking at the way your back arched. the top of your bikini was unhooked, not wanting an awkward tan, and bakugou found his eyes trailing over the curve of your legs, up your back to where you—oh shit.

you caught him. in a haste, bakugou’s eyes flitted away from your figure and back to his book, his jaw clenching in hopes that you would let it slide, but the sound of shifting sand told him you weren’t going to.

“hey,” he looks up from his book. “you got a problem or something?” yeah, you. in his position, bakugou refrained himself from making any physical moves, making sure to keep your eyes on his as he lowered his book strategically. “no, ma’am. just looking.”

“at me?” you tilt your head in question at him. “yeah, you have a nice body.” jeez, did he really just say that? bakugou is broken from his thoughts when you raise an eyebrow. “oh, thank you.” you say it as if you hadn’t expected him to say that, though to be fair, he hadn’t either.

one thing led to another, and he found himself basking in your presence under the open moonlight of his hotel room. the white linen sheets are the only thing covering your bodies, your skin hot against his when he pulls you to him. it was a one night stand, a mere summer fling, but in that moment, he didn’t want it to be.

he wanted to know you past the few drinks you had at the bar before making your way up to his room. more than the way you moved against him, the way your lips molded with his, he wanted to know what you wore outside the dress you wore here, what else you’d order for dinner on a night out.

he woke up entangled in you, early enough to see the middle of night and day where the sky greyed and the seagulls were pulling themselves together still. he doesn’t know how long he stayed there, lying in bed next to you with his lips level with your forehead, so close he could leave a kiss, but instead, he leaves a note as he climbs out of bed. his morning jog comes a little later, a smile growing when he goes through his trail and starts to near the hotel again for a shower.

you’re gone.

the bed is left empty, other than the shape of you that he wishes was still filled. your things are gone, and bakugou turns his note asking you to stay for breakfast over to the back where you’ve scribbled your own message.

sorry, I don’t do dates.

no phone number, name, nothing. he should’ve seen it coming, he should’ve known, but it was nice to hope when he did. so he went about his day, pretending that he knew better as he went back to the same beach you met at, definitely not waiting for another chance to see you. but by the time he was boarding his plane back home, he knew he’d probably never see you again.

he gets back to work, gets distracted enough to not think about it any longer than he should be. but on the nights he can’t distract himself any longer, nights where he can finally rest at home with no distractions, he finds himself wanting to go back to last summer.

it’s been a few months since then, the year rounding onto spring when a new batch of hires come rushing to work for the agency. bakugou is making his way down to the basement, down to get his gauntlets rewired and fixed when he meets the new hire, the head of the tech support department, y/n l/n.

[urmanipulatorytendencies]

enha as twenty first century american teenager stereotypes (up until 2024)

I LIV LAF LUV playing association with enhypen because they're my interesting little stinka-butts who, in my opinion, are so frozen in this whole kpop ordeal and i need them BROKEN FREEEE

Hybe, babes, let them explore the real world and interact with idols and people who don't gaf about their latest random single release and just wanna vibe w them I BEG

+ Yang Jungwon aka "Maicah"

Maicah Jungwon Yang is the middle man of your class. He's involved, he's energetic with the dude-bros, and he's on the JV basketball team. He only has okay grades but is somehow on Student Council. He's friends with a ton of the Varsity boys, and he's got lots of cool friends. Jungwon is super bubbly but he's really put together. His rl engagement in school and enha leadership compels me to think he's responsible enough to be in Student Council but bros also just an athlete. He'd also probs be on the track team as a 100m sprinter or smth. He'd definitely have a lot of friends but he might have a surprisingly unconventional bestie. Maicah wears the same two pairs of nike sweats along with Yeezy slides and a black hoodie. If it's cold, Maicah brings a Spiderman blanket to school.

+ Lee Heeseung aka "Ethan"

Ethan is the ultimate trend maxxer of whatever Bay Area high school you have imagined. He wears string earphones, never sporting shorts, and always has a damn beanie on. Absolutely not in sports-- is THE arts student. He's on the junior group of horn instruments in band, probably plays the trumpet, and isn't all that great but he's a fast learner. Hee would be top 30 in his class, but would most likely prioritize his rising Sound Cloud presence post-Grad. Doesn't date but he has a lot of younger friends, flirts with girls two years younger than him but also maintains a homoerotic friendship with his childhood friend in college who's like a year older than him.

+ Park Jay aka "Jay"-- DUH

Jay is the batman. He's farms or surfs (depending on what region you imagine we're in the context of) by day, and is in a garage band by night. He has a super duper close knit friend group of equally spunky guys. Has absolutely no female friends-- not out of misogyny or anything but bro is just such a dude idk. He's pretty smart, def a AP Chem warrior but stinks at stem. His focal point is the school guitar group. He probably gets his community service hours working with the lunch ladies. Jay is charismatic and super sweet-- but he probably deals with anger issues and was def that kid in behavior management during elementary. Despite his emo TM status-- Jay wears the fluck out of his chino + Sperrys combo.

+ Sim Jaeyun aka "Jake"-- DUH

He is the captain of the Varsity Soccer team. Jake is popular as a mf; has a big friend group, dates around, is loved by the teachers, and most of the school appreciates his mega vibes. Think Jeremiah from The Summer I Turned Pretty. Jake probably gets zesty allegations cause he wears lots of jewelry and paints his nails but he doesn't mind cause trust-- he's pulling every female bro-lover in the COUNTY. He's super duper competitive and is a strict captain, which is the only reason why someone'd have a problem with him...but he makes up for it by being a beast on the field. He's also on Honor Roll, cranking his Class with a 4.6 GPA and Salutatorian status. He's a chronic overstayer at school with him being in sports and academic clubs year round. Jake probably has some weird connections with Parker which throw people off like Junior year. Chronic Croc wearer. Bro's committing to Notre Dame for Soccer.

+ Park Sunghoon aka "Parker"

The hottest loser on campus fr fr. He's well known for being the numba one hallway crush but bro has no school friends so everyone kinda just assumes he's a little bit of a bitch (in the best way possible). He never stays longer than he has to but he's a hard worker and the history teacher loves his compassion for AP Gov.. He's a club Volleyball player outside of school but he's not in school athletics (he's got connections to the Athletics Dir. tho). He's always at school early to use the weight room and he's an avid lean pump master poster on IG. Hoon was super isolated as a kid so I imagine that Parker would probably have a hard time being social with just normal kids (Parker's homeschooled in elementary for the plot). He was probably chubby in middle school and then had a gigantourous glow up freshman-sophomore year: 6'0, lean muscle, "clean guy" aesthetic. Guys def wanna be him but they're jelly cause their girlfriends are obsessed. Closet gay but no one knows until a random IG story during college where he takes a pic w his boyfriend or something idk. Wears Jordan 4s.

+ Kim Sunoo aka "Sonny"

The typical friendly gay bestie minus the obnoxious Netflixed exaggerations (i.e. loud and super sassy). Just think about the token feminine gay guy at your school-- he probably has a group of girl friends, is kinda introverted lwk, wears either super outdated 2018 IG fashion or is the most fabulous Hollister warrior. He definitely has a weird situationship with one of the popular guys-- top athlete, unlikely to be friends with him but is anyways...you know the shabang. Sonny's pretty witty, pretty scholarly-- excels in stem but has a soft spot for English. He probably listens to Ariana Grande and is a Olivia Rodrigo die-hard. Sonny probably bakes, too. Overall, he's on the low but anyone knows that unprovoked, that mf is loud sometimes. Will not hesitate to beat a bitch up too.

+ Nishimura Ri ki aka "Nico"

The skater boi TM, bahaha. Just kidding, but fr, I think American Ri ki would skateboard. Like-- in an East Coast way not a West Coast way if you catch my drift. He's a New Yorker at heart-- going to a crowded arts school somewhere idk. He's constantly outdoing himself with the fits-- the girls love it. He's can be shy but has a knack for being a trouble maker-- probably went to special group as a kid, the guy with ADHD (not that that's a big deal but ik we all got that one guy in class that's hyper to no end, n to me, that's ri ki). Nico's got a couple friends, plays basketball in his free time, and his specialty is, of course, dance. He leads the department by a long shot so everyone either loves him or hates him. Nico isn't afraid to be flamboyant or outgoing (as Ri ki is competitive and a little bit of a diva) but can come off a little high strung sometimes.

[ilovecupcakesandtea]

Chapter 1

Eddie paced back and forth, he wasn’t sure how he was going to start this conversation with Steve or how it was going to go? He knew it was an amazing opportunity but he couldn’t say yes without speaking to Steve. Would Steve think he was being too forward? Overstepping in the relationship. It felt like it had only been seconds since he had been home but he’s actually been pacing for about 40 minutes before Steve came home with Nova.

“Dada!!” Nova screamed as she wriggled away from Steve and ran towards Eddie, colliding with his legs. 

“Hey Eds. How was work?”

“Hey muffin, had a good day?” Eddie asked Nova “errmm yeah, work was ok. Can we talk about it please?” he addressed Steve 

“Of course. What’s up?” Steve asked as he sat down on the couch and patted the spot next to him.

“So, I’ve been offered a promotion” Eddie told him, sitting down next to Steve whilst fiddling with his fingers. 

“Sweetheart, that's great!” Steve said before noticing Eddie’s fidgeting. “Or not? Talk to me. What are you thinking?”

“It’s going to be longer hours, I’ll need to be there when the boss isn’t basically, which means you’ll have to look after little miss more some days. I get an extra day off in the week but my working days will be longer. It’s putting on you more than I already do. I can turn it down if we can’t make it work.”

“That wouldn’t be a problem at all as long as it’s not during my current work hours. I’m sure we can figure it out.”

“So, errmm,” Eddie started, standing up and pacing again. “The promotion comes with a bonus and a hefty wage increase. You could, errmm, as long as you wanted too obviously, like have a good think about it, you could leave your job. You could find something you really wanted to do, take an online course, or not if you didn't want to. Basically, this promotion would allow us to live comfortably without you having to work, if you didn't want to that is.” Eddie practically blurted. He was so good Steve could understand his ramblings. 

“As much as I would love that, I don’t know. I know we haven’t really talked about it but uh…” Steve paused, looking away from Eddie and rubbing the back of his neck. “What about our future? What if we want more kids or something? Me staying home wouldn’t really be an option then. I don’t want me not having a job to stop us from things we might want later on.”

Eddie stopped dead in his tracks and looked at Steve “You want to raise another one with me?” he asked, sounding small. 

“If you’d want to.”

“Who would be stupid enough to not want more kids with you?” Eddie asked, surprised that Steve would even consider him saying no an option. “But I feel we’re a little off track here, we need to discuss this promotion. If you want to quit your job and stay at home, we can afford it on my new wage. We can even put money up for the future you’re talking about and we can always reevaluate things when Nova goes to school.” 

“You like the idea of me being your little housewife?” Steve laughed.

“I’ll even buy you a little apron and some heels,” Eddie teased, sitting back down on the couch. 

“It would mean that I’d get more time with you since I wouldn’t have to sleep most of the time you’re home. How can I say no to that?”

“This mean I get to have more time in bed with you conscious?” Eddie enquired, pulling Steve into a kiss. “So is it settled, have I got myself a little housewife and I’ve become the alpha male that provides for his family whilst his wife is at home bitching with and about the neighbours?” 

“Do I not bitch about Susan enough already?”

“Yeah you do baby, its adorable” 

“Adorable? Yeah ok, sure.” Steve huffs and crosses his arms.

“Yes, adorable sweetheart” Eddie hummed kissing Steves nose.

Steve had been nervously planning for months. He had tried hard to think of something over the top but wasn’t sure that any of those ideas had really been something that fit Eddie. The plan wouldn’t have come together if it hadn’t been for Dustin. Without his help, Steve’s idea wouldn’t really have been possible. They secretly got together for a week before they started what Dustin insisted on referring to as ‘phase one’. 

Phase one started with Dustin telling Eddie that he had an idea for a one shot that he wanted to try. Dustin had been talking about how he had wanted to try to DM long before Steve even thought about planning. It was the perfect start so Eddie wouldn’t expect a thing. Dustin refused to tell Eddie anything about it but he agreed to play anyway. Phase two was a lot longer, Steve was trying hard to not be impatient to finally get to phase four but phase two was making it difficult. For a month Dustin would bug Steve everytime he saw him and Eddie was around about playing with them. Acting annoyed and uninterested was easier than he’d thought. When they had been planning, Dustin had suggested that they make a show of Dustin pretending to annoy Steve about playing so that Eddie wouldn’t expect anything when Steve sat down with them to play.

Phase three was one they had debated on when to start it. Steve had wanted to find a way to get Nova involved but he knew that if they told her about her part in all of it before that day then there was no doubt Eddie would find out. Nova had a bad record for keeping secrets. They had given up trying when she had told Steve about the small surprise party Eddie had been planning. Robin had agreed to come over and explain to Nova what her part was while everyone else was in another room. 

Now everyone was seated at their kitchen table, Dustin at the head of the table and to Steve’s right with Eddie to his left. At the start of the one shot, the party had been at a tavern where they heard several people complaining about their valuables and small farm animals going missing. They talked with the NPC Dustin set up for Steve to play who insisted on helping them to get back something he'd lost. After talking to the other villagers, they had decided to set up a trap and follow whatever it was with a small goat and the few things that had between them that appeared valuable. They ended up following a small dragon back to it’s cave. Robin knew that was her que and brought Nova out along with their arms full of toys and set them down in a pile to act as Nova's dragon hoard. 

“I know I’m not actually a player but can I still try talking to the dragon?” Steve asked Dustin.

“I’ll allow this once.” Dustin replied.

“Hi there little dragon.” Steve said as he knelt down to Nova’s level, only to be stared down by her. “Where’d you got all this nice stuff from?” 

“I found it.” Nova answered after Robin whispered in her ear.

“Oh really? The villagers will be happy to know you found it. They’ve all been wondering where their things went. I’m sure they’d be happy to get it back.”

“Nuh uh. It’s mine now. I found it.” Nova pouted. 

“Everyone will be so sad though.” Steve tried but only got a shrug from Nova in return. “Would you be willing to give me just one thing back then? I need it for something very important and I can’t do it without it.”

“Just one?” Nova asked.

“Yes. Just the one. I promise.”

“Ok.” Nova said as Robin handed her a small black box that she then handed to Steve.

“Thank you little dragon.” Steve smiled and ruffled her hair before going down on one knee next to Eddie. 

“Steve?” Eddie whispered.

“We’ve kind of did a lot of this backwards, moving in and having a kid together before we even really got together but I’ve loved every second of it. You and Nova have brought more life into this house than I ever thought possible. I can’t imagine my life without the two of you and I don’t want to. Will you marry me?”

“Say yes Daddy!” Nova cheered as she pulled Eddie’s arm.

"Roll for charisma" Eddie choked out, clearly holding back tears. 

"I'm sorry what?" Steve replied, flabbergasted, this was not part of the plan. 

"I believe he said you need to roll for charisma, we are playing after all" Dustin cackled. 

"Fine, I will roll for charisma" Steve sighed, rolling his eyes at them both. 

"Better be high or it's a no Stevie" Eddie pointed out, still teary eyed. 

Steve grabbed the D20 and rolled it, a 1 looked up at him and dread hit him all at once. Would Eddie really say no? Did Eddie not think he was being serious? How does he get out of this with an ounce of self respect left. 

"Oh baby, you should see your face. I'm sorry, I was being mean, of course I'll marry you" Eddie said, spinning Steve around and kissing him gently. 

"I hate you and I'm not doing that thing you really like for at least 2 weeks after that" Steve grumbled, kissing him back ,much to everyone's visible and audible response. 

"Congratulations guys!!" Robin shouted, rushing at them both and giving them a hug. 

Everyone else gave their congratulations and their hugs. Nova sat and played with her toys whilst the guys packed up for the evening and ate pizza. 

Eddie kept looking down at his ring, smiling to himself. Tomorrow he would go and buy one for Steve, it wasn't fair that only he got to visually display their love. 

[srgntjamesbuckybarnes]

Buck & Doe (13)

Summary: Natasha attempts to take down Dreykov, who is mind controlling Black Widows. In her quest she recruits Y/N, a former Black Widow turned science experiment. Bucky and Natasha share a history in the Red Room but his life might be intertwined with more than one Widow. The closer they get to taking down Dreykov, the more secrets come to light.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Angry Bucky

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: Not Beta’d

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Chapter 13

When Rebecca demanded they travel as normal people Bucky hadn’t expected to be trapped in a Volkswagen Beetle for hours on end only to end up at a seedy motel. The sleek blue car left little room between the two super-soldiers; their shoulders battled for what little space remained the entire ride. Y/N and Natasha took to the back of the vehicle equally cramped in the much narrower space. The confinement had everyone on edge. So much for calling it a vacation.

A knock on the driver’s widow had Steve rolling the window down, grateful for someone else to converse with.

Rebecca gave everyone a small wave. “The kids are passed out. I’m going to go in and get us a couple of rooms while Harold unpacks the car. Care to join me?”

Steve nodded, killing the engine before tossing Bucky the keys. “Unload her will ya.” The blonde barely waited for a response before he was scrambling out of the car stretching his legs.

With a two-finger salute Bucky followed suit, sliding the passenger seat forward to allow Y/N and Natasha to exit. They didn’t have much, but they needed to appear normal, at least in front of the kids. Having the public spot them also wasn’t ideal in the event that HYDRA got word of it. Slipping past the open door, Bucky dove forward grasping two heavy duffels off of the back floor.

“Need a hand, James?”

Bucky jumped at the sudden loud voice directly behind him. A silent curse on his tongue as his head connected with the top of the car. With a growl Bucky whipped around dropping both backs on the concrete, the clash of metal loud in the air. “What’s your problem?”

Harold raised his palms in surrender. “I was only trying to help.”

“Yeah, well don’t.” Bucky spat, reaching up to rub the sore spot on his head.

“Barnes.” Natasha snapped.

Harold’s eyes dropped landing on the two black duffle bags between the men. He knew the sound of guns clanging together. In his line of work, Harold had been familiar with the sound of a few guns knocking together; this was more than a few.

He narrowed his eyes as he met Bucky’s cold glare. “That’s quite the arsenal you got there. Plan on using that?”

An animalistic noise escaped the super-soldier. He didn’t have to ask Harold what he meant. The unwavering eye contact was enough to know he saw Bucky as a threat. Harold knew Bucky’s former self had murdered people, but he was no longer the Winter Soldier. He didn’t deserve the implications.

“Only if HYDRA fires first.” Natasha intervened, drawing Harold’s eyes on her. “Thank you for the offer but we got it from here.”

After a long stare off Harold nodded retreating to his car. Natasha was unfazed by the large man. It wasn’t the first time she encountered men like him. He was sizing them up. His job was to protect Rebecca and the kids. He didn’t trust them and no matter how close Steve, Y/N, and Bucky were to Rebecca, Natasha wasn’t fully convinced she trusted Rebecca and Harold either.

“What the hell was that Barnes?” Natasha crossed her arms over her chest.

Bucky loured at the Widow. “Don’t pretend this is about Harold. If you have something to say, then say it.” Ever since the conversion about the Wolf Spider ops Natasha has kept her distance. It was only a matter of time before the topic came up.

Natasha shook her head. “This is about Harold.”

“He came after me.” Bucky insisted.

The red head pressed her lips together. “He was just doing his job. He’s cautious like the rest of us. It’s his job to protect Rebecca and the kids from HYDRA and we're heading right into the lion’s den.”

“No one forced her to help us.”

Natasha’s lip quirked. “Exactly Barnes. No one forced him to tag along either, so play nice. At least until the mission is over.”

Bucky inhaled, rolling his eyes. “For someone so cautious and experienced he should know not to sneak up on someone.”

A bell chimed signaling Rebecca and Steve’s exit from the office cutting their conversation short. Rebecca waved a white envelope filled with key cards in the air as all of the adults gathered around. Steve could sense the tension between the group, Y/N huddling beside him away from the others only solidifying his assumption.

“We have four rooms.” Rebecca announced flipping through the keys.

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek praying he wouldn’t be sharing a room with Harold. He would lose his mind if he had to be trapped in a room with him. He would rather get back in the Volkswagen for another few hours than spend them with Harold.

Rebecca opened her mouth but was silenced by Steve. They hadn’t discussed who would share a room, but Steve wasn’t blind to the looks everyone was sharing. “Rebecca and Natasha.” Steve tested earning a slight nod from the Widow. He knew she didn’t trust Rebecca yet and would feel better keeping an eye on her. “Jane and Jaime.” Y/N’s shoulders visibly relaxed beside Steve, so he continued. “Harold and Beck.” Bucky practically leaped for joy. Not only did he not have to share a room with Harold, Harold also wouldn’t get to share a room with his sister or teammates. “Bucky and I will take the end.”

Harold nodded, opening his palm awaiting his key. “I’ll wake the kids.” Rebecca nodded, passing the keys to their respectful owners.

“Are you okay?” 

“Hmm?” Y/N hummed lost in thought as she spread her hands along the mattress. The springs threatened to stab her palms even through the quilt. It wasn’t the most comfortable bed, but a bed was a bed.

“You seem distracted.” Jaime observed, plopping herself on her identical bed, the quilt just as flashy as the gold and maroon wallpaper. The rug was a shade of crimson. Everything was practically red.

Y/n sent the teen a tight-lipped smile. “Just taking everything in.” Mimicking the young girl, Y/N plopped on the bed facing Jaime. “I’ve never had a sleepover when I was a kid, this should be fun.”

Jaime’s eyes widened. “Never?”

Y/N shook her head. “I didn’t exactly have the time or friends.”

Jaime nodded. “What about your parents?” She asked brushing a stand of dark hair behind her ear.

With a shrug Y/N collapsed on the bed. She knew she had parents somewhere out there, but she doesn’t remember them. She wondered if they were alive, if she had siblings, or if they missed her but it doesn’t matter. “I didn’t know them.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Jaime whispered.

Y/N frowned, pushing herself up. “What about Rebecca?”

Jaime smiled. “She’s great. Tells us about the family a lot so in a way I feel like I know my parents.”

The corners of Y/N’s lips twisted up. She knew Rebecca was an amazing storyteller. Rebecca’s stories had gotten Y/N though some tough times, so she was elated to hear someone else had a similar experience.

“What about Harold?” Y/N questioned, wondering the young girl’s thoughts on the man Bucky couldn’t seem to stand.

“He’s great too. Picks us up after school and comes to all of the extracurriculars. A bit overprotective but he means well. Guess he’s the closest thing to a father.”

Beck’s fingers couldn’t move fast enough over the keyboard of his phone. While he shared an eerily similar face to the Winter Soldier, he was still attractive. Before they left to find the entrance to the Wolf Spider ops, Beck had landed a date with a cute girl in his grade.

“How long is this trip going to be?” Beck huffed from his spot on the bed.

“Hot date?” Harold joked.

If only he knew. “I’m trying to make plans.”

Harold rolled his eyes, as he stood in front of the tv flipping through the channels. “Why don’t you get off the phone and spend some time with your family.” It was more of a demand than a suggestion.

Beck scoffed. “Aunt Becca seems pretty busy with her friends, and I’ll just end up fighting with Jaime.”

Harold nodded, settling on the news. He made his way toward his mattress beside Beck, a frown etched in on his lips. “What about Bucky?” He had to resist rolling his eyes at the man’s instance of being called James by only him.

Beck shrugged. “What about him?” It’s not like the guy had been in his life the whole time. He just randomly popped up one day and now Beck was expected to call him uncle.

With a raised eyebrow, Harold explained. “What do you think about him?”

The phone Beck had been preoccupied with suddenly went dark from lack of attention. Sure, Becca seemed to think Bucky was good enough to open her home to him, but he was also her brother. Then again, he was the Winter Soldier. Everyone knew what he was capable of, what he had done. He didn’t hate the guy; he just didn’t know him so that’s what he went with. “I don’t know.”

Steve watched Bucky as he paced around the room, his movements aggressive. He didn’t want to pry but he couldn’t fix the situation if everyone else knew the issue but him.

The captain cleared his throat, arms crossed as his eyes followed his best friend. Bucky’s hands paused inside his duffle bag, stands of deep brown locks falling in his line of eyesight but still managing to meet Steve’s blue eyes from across the room.

“What happened out there?”

Bucky snapped his head back towards the duffle bag on the bed before him. More hair falling to cover his expression. The last thing he wanted was to lash out on another person. Steve didn’t deserve it and he knew he could tell his best friend anything, but he knew if spoke up, Steve would go up to bat for him every time. It’s who Steve was, even before the serum; he was a fighter.

“‘M fine.”

 More digging. More aggression. Bucky could see Steve step around the other side of his bed out of the corner of his eye. The closer Steve got the more frantic Bucky’s movements became. “God, where is it?” Bucky snapped, dumping his bag on the bed.

Steve searched the sea of clothes on the quilt, then his friend’s face for any answers. Stopping between the two beds Steve ran a hand through his blonde hair. “You know I value your opinion, Buck. If something’s not right, you need to tell me.”

Bucky froze.

With one hand on his hip and the other holding his forehead Steve sighed. “Which Bucky am I talking to?”

“Fuck you.” Bucky gritted.

The hand on Steve’s forehead dropped to his other waist. “This isn’t you, Buck. You’re hostile. I’ve only seen you this truculent when it involves the Soldier and your past.”

“I’m not him.” Bucky whispered.

Steve stepped closer feeling Bucky flinch beneath the hand on his shoulder. “Then help me understand why you’re riled up. Help me, help you.”

Bucky shrugged Steve’s hand off. He didn’t want to have to keep relying on Steve to save him. Ignoring Steve, a bright light lit up from beneath the pile of clothes. The brunette snatched the phone up, relieved he found the phone he’d been searching for.

Steve recognized his friend wasn’t going to open up, so he changed his tactic. A grin graced his face at the image staring back at him from the brunette’s phone. “Nice background.”

Bucky clutched the phone to his chest as he sat on the edge of the bed facing Steve so he couldn’t see his screen. His hair covered the light blush dusting his cheeks. Steve sat on his own bed facing Bucky. His palms rested on his knees.

“She didn’t have any pictures, so I took one.”

Steve nodded. “And you made it your background.”

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek. He knew what Steve was insinuating but he denied it. “She doesn’t have a phone. Meant a lot to her so figured she could at least see it whenever without needing me to get in the phone.”

Steve held up his hand. “No need to explain.” That was the Bucky Steve knew. He noticed Bucky’s muscles went lax. No matter how strong Bucky was, he was also delicate. “Regardless, I’m happy for you.”

Bucky said nothing.

“You care for her, Buck. Anyone can see that, even if it’s not romantic. Whatever it is that’s been going on with you today scared her.”

Blue orbs met Steve’s and he knew he had him. Bucky fought for people the same as Steve. The brunette had stepped into every fight he found Steve in before the serum. The blonde knew if the brunette wouldn’t get help for himself, he would for others because Steve was the same way.

“When I came out of the office she clung to my side. I could feel the tension between the rest of you. I know the ride here was less than desirable, but this isn’t you. If you won’t help me, help you, then at least help her.” Steve pleaded.

Silence. Bucky made no move to speak. The only sign that he was still with Steve was the twitch in his right hand while his left tightened around the phone.

“I didn’t mean to scare her.” Bucky began. “The car ride already made me miserable. Then Harold pissed me off. Nat’s been giving me the cold shoulder since she found out I knew about the Wolf Spider ops and then she took his side.”

CRASH.

Natasha sat up in her bed. Her eyes struggled to see her surroundings in the dark room.

“Did you hear that?” Rebecca whispered.

Natasha pressed a finger to her lip while her other hand snaked down the side of her bed to grab the gun beneath the mattress.

Rebecca gasped. “Natasha watch-”

Natasha was swiftly on her feet and across the room, gun pointed directly at the intruder a foot in front of her. She wasn’t quick enough. Using the fact that Natasha just woke up, the figure was able to pull Natasha’s gun from her grasp; however, not without receiving a foot to the chest. The intruder clutched the front of the red head’s shirt, spinning her underneath her arm before slamming her face into the wall. Then pulling her back by the back of her collar into the wall behind her.

Natasha was able to grab the dark figure by the throat and push her against the cabinet in the small kitchen space. A yelp escaped the figure as the Widow shoved her on the counter. “Stay down.” Natasha demanded she heard a screech and was smashed over the head by a glass plate. 

Rebecca watched in horror as Natasha and the intruder danced with knives and wondered if the others were safe. It was obvious to Rebecca that both fighters excelled far past anything she could do so joining Natasha was not an option. Did she have time to call someone? Perhaps a text, so the intruder wouldn’t know. Was anyone up, would anyone answer?

Moments later the door slammed open, the light switch was flipped blinding Rebecca and the two currently strangling each other with a curtain.

“Yelena?” Bucky stalked towards the two pulling the curtain from their grasps.

Natasha froze as her eyes adjusted. Sure, enough panting on the floor beside her was her baby sister. She fought to scramble to her feet, letting out a coughing fit as Bucky seized Yelena’s bicep and drug her to the wooden dining chair. The white curtain weaving between her arms and the back of the chair as she continued to pant.

Steve assed the damage in the room. There was no way the damage would go unnoticed. Their cover would be blown the minute they told the office. Apart from the shock on Rebecca’s face she was okay. Natasha sported a few cuts and red marks that would definitely turn into bruises: her sister sporting matching injuries.

When Bucky was done securing the knot he stalked around the front of the chair. “What are you doing here?”

A cocky smirk from Yelena turned Bucky’s face sour. “The Winter Soldier.”

He wanted to correct her, but she would only use the information to toy with him, so instead he remained silent.

Natasha sat on the floor wiping blood from her nose with her sleeve. “He’s not the Winter Soldier anymore.”

Yelena pursed her lips. “And I assume you are no longer a Widow, yet you use the name to save the world. The same name you used to kill people with.” Yelena chuckled. “Same person. You just use the skills differently.”

“Enough!” Steve barked. His arms fixed across his chest taking on an intimidating persona. Unfortunately, Yelena doesn’t scare easily.

Her eyes lit up at the sight behind Steve in the doorway. “Ah, Jane Doe. Now it is one big reunion.”

Bucky whipped around confirming with his own eyes Y/N was standing in the doorway. Harold behind her.

“Yelena? What are you doing here?” Y/N stepped around Steve. “I heard commotion from next door but-” She trailed off examining the room. Holes in the wall, curtains on the floor, glass everywhere, and a bloody Natasha and Yelena.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Yelena brushed off the lingering eyes.

“Yelena.” Natasha growled. “What. Are. You. Doing. Here?”

A copper taste filled her mouth causing her to spit on the floor. The blood mixed with the crimson carpet creating a slightly darker spot.

“Fine.” Her thick Russian accent took over. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don't know?” Natasha hissed.

“I mean, one minute I’m fighting you and the next I’m fighting for my life.” Rolling her head, she groaned. “Did you have to hit me that hard?”

Natasha’s eyes widened. “You attacked me.”

“Dreykov has been brainwashing Widows. I think the fight set me straight.”

Everyone in the room went rigid. If Yelena was here Dreykov must know where they’re at.

“Who else knows you're here?” Steve was the first to ask.

Yelena shook her head, licking her lips. “No one. I was sent out with no location. I found you all on my own.” She beamed proud of herself. “I don’t report until after the mission.”

“And if you don’t report?”

Turning towards Rebecca Natasha whispered. “They’re killed.”

“Can you untie me? This is quite uncomfortable.”

Bucky dismissed the question with his own. “How many other Widows are out there looking for us?”

“Including the ones in this room?” The blonde Widow toyed with them eyeing Natasha and Y/N. “None that I know of.”

Y/N let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She had just gotten free; she didn’t want to be controlled anymore.

“Let her go.”

“What?” Rebecca’s eyes widened in fear. “She attacked us.”

Natasha stood up on shaky legs. “She attacked me.” Her eyes narrowed at Rebecca. “She’s not being controlled anymore.”

“What if she goes back to Dreykov. Then this is all for nothing. I have kids in the next room. I can’t risk that.”

Scanning Yelena, Natasha shook her head. “She won’t report.”

“How can you be so sure?” Harold asked.

Bucky understood. There was nothing better worth fighting for once you’re in control of your own mind again than your freedom. Without a response Bucky was behind Yelena untying the knots.

“Because, she's my sister.” Natasha offered rather than an actual response.

Yelena hummed, rubbing her wrists.

“Stay the night?” Natasha asked. She hadn’t seen her sister in years. They probably wouldn’t see each other again. She wanted to make the most of the small window they’ve been given. “We can go out.”

Pretending to think about it, Yelena nodded. “As long as drinks are on you.”

“Rebecca, you can stay with me and Jaime.” Y/N offered.

Rebecca could only nod.

A soft tapping roused Bucky from his sleep. Well, he hadn’t actually been sleeping. More like laying with his eyes closed. His feet slapped the rug, but the carpet absorbed any sound. The tapping continued outside of the room unaware of any life inside the room. Bucky plucked the wooden door wide open catching the person on the other end off guard. Y/N.

“What are you doing out here this late?”

Goosebumps littered her skin from the cool breeze. The t-shirt doing a poor job at protecting her skin from the air. Bucky himself had only been in a pair of boxers when he answered the door. Steve hadn’t returned since Natasha and Yelena left. Bucky was alone.

“Can I come in?”

Bucky pushed the door open further allowing her to enter the room. Her eyes took in the room, the layout identical to her own room and Natasha’s. The only thing difference was the blankets and pillow on the floor next to the bed. The soft click of the door drew her attention back to the super-soldier.

“You’re sleeping on the floor?”

He shrugged. “‘S more comfortable.”

Y/N nodded glancing back at the messy blankets. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

Bucky shook his head walking further into the room. “What are you doing up?”

A sigh escaped Y/N lips while she clenched and unclenched her hands. “I’m tingly.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows pushing his long hair out of his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“It's been a while. She wants to come out. I need to shift but I can’t in my room with Jaime. Steve is well,” She spun around the room searching for him. “Not here. Natasha is with Yelena, and I can’t go to Harold with Beck in the room. Rebecca doesn’t want them to know anything.”

Bucky frowned at the idea that she would even consider going to Harold. He may be in on the mission, but he doesn’t know her.

“I just need a place to shift and for someone to watch her for a bit. It’s going to be another long car ride tomorrow so now is my only time.”

Bucky was already digging though his duffle bag and sliding on a pair of sweatpants, a Henley, socks, and a single glove. Y/N felt guilty forcing the man to dress in his own room and watch a kid.

“I’m so sorry to do this to you.”

Bucky waved her off, securing the glove in place. “I missed her anyway and beats staying up alone. Go ahead.”

He braced himself for the inevitable, the moment she saw him again.

“‘Key!”

Bucky grunted as the little girl tackled him but remained in place.

“Hey babydoll.”

“Rogers!”

Steve turned outside of the motel finding his fiery red headed friend bouncing towards him.

“We need to talk.”

Steve held out a hand, a gesture for her to lead the way. He followed her to the side of the motel, watching as she leaned against the wall.

“I don't trust Rebecca.” Natasha whispered. “Yelena doesn’t remember much before the fight, but she found us pretty quick. She didn’t move a muscle when Yelena broke in the room.”

Steve frowned. “Not everyone is a fighter, Nat. She texted Bucky.”

The Widow shook her head. “I’m telling you something is off.”

Steve hung his head. “We should talk to Bucky.”

Natasha shook her head. “He’s too close. He’ll just deny it and get upset.”

She was right. Bucky had been hostile enough the whole day without the added stress.

“Then we keep it to ourselves and keep our eyes open and our ears to the ground.”

Natasha nodded. “Agreed. Come on, it’s late. I’ll walk you to your room.”

Steve grinned following the red head back around the corner. “You can stay with me and Buck.” Opening the door, he whispered in case Bucky was asleep. “Rebecca is with Jaime and Jane.”

“No, she’s not.” Natasha smirked.

Sitting on the floor in front of a small table Y/N and Bucky were doing a puzzle. Excited to see the other Y/N, Steve was about to push the door open further but a hand on his chest stopped him.

“Don’t. This is the calmest he’s been all day.”

“But-”

“Look at his hands.” Natasha insisted. Bucky’s right gloved hand held Y/N’s left while his left worked with her right to put the puzzle together. “He’s building something with his left hand. She has him creating instead of destroying. Don’t you dare go in there and ruin that.”

A sad smile crept along Steve’s lips. “She’s been doing it all along.” Natasha quirked an eyebrow. “The crayons. She was breaking them on purpose and crossing the room to get him to fix them when I was right there.”

Natasha pulled the door shut gently as to not alert the pair inside. “She’s always been intuitive. That little girl probably knows more about each of us than we know about each other.” With a hand on Steve’s shoulder, she guided him towards the office. “Come on, we’ll get another room.”

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@nelly-belly @small-death-and-codeine @amberritonicole @hallecarey1 @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @val-writesstuff @rhiamaymay @lilhoodhippie @buckysbarne

[boyswanna-be-her]

Lmao the walk was super fun but only two people showed up (my biggest fan, who was obvs gonna be there, and a new friend who we both met at the same time through volunteering which is cute and fun, he's a p good deal younger than us). Since it was just the 3 of us, we hiked the WHOLE trail system and had a blast. Got lunch afterwards. I invited them to come out to the beach with me, and my friend decided to follow me straight out and new boy went home first but then flaked and never ended up coming to the beach.

So the clown dance continued, we swam and sunned and laughed, came back to my apartment, eventually got hungry and went to dinner, our third meal together in a row today. At every point they were hesitant to leave and happy to be invited to do the next thing. The only reason why we're not together now is that we're supposed to lift tonight at their place with someone else joining, so they headed back to their own side of town while I went home to take a shower.

This is actually a great holding pattern as far as I'm concerned. We spend as much time and I'd be willing to spend with someone I was dating, and I enjoy spending time with them more than being alone (USUALLY more, sometimes they're in a mood and I'd rather split). It's been so long since I've ACTUALLY enjoyed someone's company more than my own that I wasn't sure that would ever even happen again for me. I'm happy with this. The chemistry is there but--and holy shit i can't believe im saying this--I don't actually want to risk our friend...ship? Lmao? Who am i?

I also made an offhand comment about planning something fun and they responded "I don't really drink so that can make it hard" and of course in light of recent life changes on my side I'm like 👀👀👀 that is the opposite of a problem! But it also makes me sad bc they have been drinking with me some on our off hours and it sounds like they were just trying to keep up with me/not murder the vibe and that was SO not necessary. It also makes some stuff track more in retrospect (like "oh what was up with them that night?" ends up being "they were sleepy bc they dont drink booze normally"). Anyway, since it came up organically I told them that I was actually working on my sobriety and that it was difficult with my parents as enablers/people who want a drinking buddy from their child--and wouldnt you fucking know, bc we have everything else in common, they also have the SAME dynamic w their parents. And they seemed happy that sobriety was something I was thinking about and valued, but possibly more relieved that I actually DO enjoy our time together when we're both sober and want to do more of that.

We're finally getting into some deeper shit and I'm learning about their history and what makes them tick. Like they speak their mind super freely, but they are SO private about their family and personal life to the point that it feels almost too intimate to learn some of this shit that people who have known them longer are oblivious about. On the other hand, I'm a open book about everything I've been through and my mental health but good fucking luck getting an earnest take out of me on anything unless i deeply trust you. It makes for a weird game of learning about each other. I thanked them today for being a friend who's down to clown with all of my stupid suggestions and admitted that I normally just do everything alone but it's more fun with them. They expressed it all back to me. Alone for a long time, fine with that, surprised to find me, thankful for that too. It's just like, hm. Very comfy. And I don't worry about being wanted or wearing out my welcome, and I don't get taken advantage of, and they stand up for me and do nice things for me, and feed me and worry about me. That's such a nice change for me from being either The Provider or a person who wants for nothing or no one. It's scary to want someone in my life, even in this capacity, but it's more rewarding than I thought it could be without, yknow, actively trying to date or hook up. I feel like the possibility of something more is stalking us from location to location like the monster in It Follows--sometimes our knees are nestled together while we talk and it's breathing down our necks and sometimes we're both distracted and moody and it's not something either is thinking too much about, but fuck if it isn't always there and a thing I think we will inevitably make a choice about in the future but.

[sweetswesf]

Update

Hey Fam,

Still grinding and hoping to bring y'all good news soon. My friend/ex-colleague/neighbor who I've been on this unemployment journey with and checking in w/finally got a job. Shout out to her. I knew she would get one before me, and she got a GOOD one. Like...one I have been praying to be at. I was of course happy for her, but it did get me a little sad. I have been working really hard and I feel really far from my goal. I know I shouldn't compare, but I often feel like things take me a super long time. I'm already meeting with my old tech mentor once a week for an hour, doing practice interviews with others for another 2.5 hours a week, getting advice from engineers everywhere, attending 2-hour engineering sessions twice a week, in addition to coding/interview prepping about 6 - 10 hours a day by myself. I know I am operating on God's timing, but I just hope that I'm moving at a pace He wants me to. I am getting better at a lot of these concepts, but I feel like there is still so much I don't know. Every day it feels like I'm adding on to what I need to study. I just need to be patient and keep trying my best.

He reminds us not to be envious of others. I don't want what she wants, I want my own role, I just happen to want to be at the same company, in a similar role, and at this time. I know He has the perfect job for me.  I just am really tired and thought about how sweet her relief is right now. It's been almost 9 months since we were let go and it's been a grind all those 9 months. 9 months of no vacation planning. 9 months of spending much lower than I used to. 9 months of thinking about finances in a somewhat unhealthy way. I've learned a ton. I can cook for myself. I work out more. I'm more frugal. I pray more often. I no longer care about my appearance much or materials that I was DYING to have even months ago. Day in & day out though, it's me problem solving for hours, exhausted in the gym, always cooking & cleaning something with no car. I don't remember the last day I went without crying. Sometimes, I cry so much that I disassociate to the point where I don't even realize I'm crying. Then I snap back into my body and tears are just rolling down my cheeks. I'm grateful I have the ability & funds to do all of these things independently. A lot of people don't.

I've been through a lot. During this time I've even lost another grandparent and another family member's life support. I tried to make my grandfather's funeral and my flight and all the flights that would have gotten me there on time were canceled. My mom is about to move hours away from my hometown to live with her sister that I don't get along with. Makes me feel like I won't even be able to see her because of this and because she rarely ever visits me here. I've been given so much grace and care during this journey though. I need to appreciate what I have but I really want to know if I'm moving at the pace I should. I decided to push out the interviews of the companies I really want to be at so that I can make sure I'm really prepared for them, but will I get there in a reasonable amount of time? Reasonable as in, will I run out all of my savings? I cried. I felt bad for crying because I'm happy for her and I know my blessing is on the way. It was SUCH a mix of emotions. And I knew I wouldn't feel good if she got her role before me. And this is no diss to her. She deserves it. She's been working hard. But I have too. Sometimes when I'm doing the same thing as another person and they do better or go faster than me, which is often the case, especially when I am already giving it everything I have, I feel like there's something wrong with me. I shouldn't feel that. She's had a career slightly longer than mine, but not by much. We're battling different things and God is using us in different ways. I even started thinking, "Well damn, I know I'm living in a more Christian way than her," but that's not how God determines when and how to bless people.

I used it as fuel to work on some hard problems today, and I got a lot done. I even scoped out some more material I want to focus on that will hopefully set me apart in the future. I know timing is up to God and I have to sacrifice my timeline and trust that He's got me and has a great life planned for me. It just feels like I've been on a long streak of "bad news" in a sense? Like, fresh out of college, I didn't get the job I wanted due to racism and ended up interning in Jersey City. I was promised a full time role and they ended up rescinding it and sending me on contract to BUFFALO. Then I moved to the Bay Area and as soon as I got here, my grandmother passed, my parents got divorced, and I landed on the racist team that rejected me. I did get into tech, but I constantly faced racism and bullying there, had vision and roommate issues, and stayed stagnant in my role and salary for YEARS. I did get into a bootcamp and apprenticeship as I dreamed, but I never got the training that I needed and asked for. I didn't even know what I didn't know. I was WAYY below my level technically. Pandemic happened. I had such bad managers and teammates. I couldn't go home because my family was being unsafe, confrontational, and didn't make me feel welcomed. I moved to New York and had the WORST landlord and ended up getting sexually assaulted. I got covid on my 29th bday and celebrated it alone in a hospital bed. I was REALLY close to getting a promotion that was overdue by like 3 years and then I got let go. I've had so many heartbreaks from family, friends, and stupid boys in between and I'm just tired. A lot of good has happened and I have to appreciate that, but man...I'm VERY tired. I know I've grown tremendously and have gotten to do some amazing things and everything happens for a reason but...I'm just tired. That's it. I shouldn't get weary in well doing.

Sometimes the bad is more memorable and easier to harp on because it hits us harder. I know I'm not immune to bad days/bad times and God is putting me through it for my good, but I want to know if this is normal or if these things keep happening because I am causing these things by my actions or mindset. Sometimes I just feel like most people don't go through this. Sometimes, I wish I could just focus on working hard at my job, exercising, eating well, spending frugally, giving generously, investing in myself and the things & people I care about,, praising the Lord, etc. I don't bring drama to no one. I feel like I'm a great friend. I don't want to be at a company I don't want to be at, but will that be God's plan for me. God's plan has often not been my plan, but I have to learn to accept it with open arms and trust that it's for my good. It's just hurt. Will my next decade be full of tears and hard times like this past decade has been? Maybe I need to change my attitude around it all. I pray for that too. It feels like I am often paranoid that something bad will happen given how it feels like such bad news back to back, but I should be hopeful the future. I need to instead assume it's all good in the future and that when bad comes, I'm equipped to handle it. It's okay to admit fatigue, I've heard from pastors. Rejection is simply redirection and delay is God's protection. I just get caught up in thinking if the delay is because I'm not ready. To which, I constantly respond to with, "I'm trying my BEST!" Why does it seem like my best is so much lower than my peers/where I think it should be?

One thing about this "delay" is that I'm learning a lot of system design concepts that I think will make a HUGE difference in my interview score since my score won't be only based on coding and especially now since I'm being considered for Senior roles more and more often. Thank God. Another thing to be so proud of. This is all things I NEEDED to learn. And I need to stop trying to copy every little thing down. It's inefficient. There's just simply not enough time. I need to humble myself and recognize that. Hopefully through highlighting, quizzing and reviewing, I can get retain it.

I'm not going to give up and I hope you don't. I know I'll regret complaining about fatigue when I get an awesome role, and just the thought of even sounding just a little ungrateful doesn't feel great. i don't want anyone to feel sorry for me. I just want a relief of some sort. Whatever journey you are on, or unanswered prayers you have, just keep believing in Him, know that you're not alone and that your breakthrough is coming soon...

[reddogf13]

Outlast 2: Deliverance CH 5

Also on A03

Status: Incomplete

Rated: M - Dead Dove Do Not Eat This takes place in the Outlast 2 universe after all.

Previous chap: CH: 4 Eucharist

Next chap: CH: 6 Apothecary

_______________

~Ch: 5 Deluge~

The next morning Blake woke to a knock on his door. Grumbling as he got up to answer. “Coming.” Almost falling over before he reached the door in his half awake state.

Meeting Marta standing at the door with a man stood beside her. “I brought you Jacob, the traveler.”

He shrunk under her gesturing toward him looking like a child brought to the principle. He was shorter than most with a completely shaved head. Thin as a twig suffering some sort of jittery tick. One arm randomly flexing its muscle to shut his hand closed. Another twitched half his face to tug his mouth as his eye squinted repeatedly.

“Oh, yeah, very good.” Rubbing his face to wake up faster. “Let's go talk in the hall.” Gesturing in a point for them to head toward the large room. “Okay.” He yawned when they were seated.

“You wanted to s-see me s-s-sir?” His voice stuttered along to his twitches.

“Yes, you used to travel outside? Can you take up the trips again?”

“Sure, but it'll take longer than before. S-s-since the truck broke down.”

“How long?”

“About three and a half days. Here and back. That's if the trail hasn't been r-r-ruined by the storm.”

“How long with a truck?”

“Only two hours.”

“Is the truck fixable?”

“No, since i-i-its axle was shot by hitting a log. Knoth had it stripped for parts. E-e-engines almost gone.”

“Fuckin- “ Blake took a deep breath. “Okay, walking it is. Are you the only traveler left?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What do you and I need to travel? Food, bandages, rope?”

“Mainly food and space to carry. What w-w-we need most though are weapons. Wildlife isn't the only problem. Heretics took over the east for a reason. I-i-i couldn't get past even if I wanted.”

Waylon felt sick again. “I get that.”

“Heretics are called goats now.” Marta corrected.

Jacobs' extremely confused look cleared by Blake's explanation. “They're not heretics and it seemed wrong to keep calling them that. Goats sounded a lot better and less anxiety inducing. Since they might block our path, what if we bring Marta?”

“That would keep them away, but w-w-what about Temple Gate? Everyone knows the here- goats. Don't come ‘cause of h-h-her.”

“We'll have to take the risk. It's been a month since you've last gone. The generator must be running on fumes by now.”

“Two months. We've only gotten the gas to last this long by disconnecting chunks of Temple Gate. B-b-but like you said, its reaching fumes. Some gallons will buy us a couple days, but to fill it f-f-for even a week we need a truck to haul it back.”

“We got the cash to get a new truck. We get to town and from there we load up on what we need and travel back in a few hours. What do we need to travel?” Returning to the earlier question.

“A few meals each, the money, bandages for emergencies, some rope to climb over anything. Axes to chop firewood for camp. Warm clothing and something to sleep on.”

“Okay. Best if we have James come along. We'll be buying seeds to get farming up and running again. What I also want most are more meds. Knoth's “study aids”, can you still get them?”

“Should be able. Doctor didn't say anything about leaving. He's gotta be w-w-wondering where his favorite patient is.”

“Right, Wait here and I'll gather everything up.” He stood, followed by Marta to fetch supplies and James for the journey.

Spreading the message of the renamed heretics earning Blake looks. like he was the crazy one in this town. Must be if I'm trying to run it. Goats, how fucking stupid. Could've named them something normal. Neighbors would have been easier. Guess the ridiculousness of it is working. Can't be too scared of a man eating group of “goats” on the mountain. Meeting up with James to pass along their plans. Scavenging the pantry for a few “meals” to pack. Rope coiled up in a bag along with bandages packed into Blake's vest. Blake packed as much money as he could into a backpack he found. Gathered back around Jacob he double checked what they packed for approval. Given the go ahead they readied to leave.

“Most of the journeys gonna be rough up and over the mountain. P-p-past that it's easier when we reach flat land.” Jacob pointed in the direction they would head for.

They didn't make it out of town when John came running up. Looking like he had a rough night's sleep. “You're going outside? And you're taking Marta with you? Why, shouldn't she stay here? What about the heretics?! - Ah fuckin'- goats, whatever!”

“We have to reach the outside. Three of us wouldn't last if we're swarmed by them.”

“But the whole town will be swarmed instead. Take me instead.”

“Why?”

“I've traveled all over there to hunt, back around when the goats broke off. I can sneak you by without any trouble and Marta can stay to keep the town safe. Is there really a point to this if you come back to all us strung up?”

Blake didn't have a chance to answer. Marta interrupted with an alert he never wanted to hear. “Val's here.”

“What?!” Looking up at the women tall enough to gaze over the obstructions beside them. “Where?!” After she pointed he ran down the line of blockages to see for himself. Not having the eagle vision Marta had it took him longer to spot Val. Catching the speck of her golden hair at the tree line. Standing to watch the town with her head turning back and forth between its ends. He couldn't see anyone else with her, yet they could have just been hiding back in the thick shrubbery. At the appearance of Marta stepping into the open, Val locked her gaze on her. Stepping back to disappear between the trees.

“See?! She's already looking at how to take this place down!” Shifting his stiff shoulders the more frantic he turned.

Blake heard John shouting, but hardly took in the words. Mind racing on its options. Val would see who left the town. If Marta stayed, Temple Gate would be safe, but he would be an easy target. Despite John's earlier offering to navigate the land by sneaking. Marta may scare them off, but he preferred they all run. Marta's limp coming to the front as a problem causer. Harder to run, defend, and move over rough terrain. If Blake was going to take care of this town he had to make sure everyone stayed safe. “Marta will stay here. We'll sneak by the mountain.”

John looked relieved by his answer. “Thank you, sir.”

Marta stomped on the conversation. “You sure about that? Can he really get you by?”

“Town has to stay safe and you call too much attention. Yeah I'm sure.” Looking to the rest. “Now let's hurry. I rather disappear before Val notices we're leaving.”

One last look given to Temple Gates town sign as they passed. Out of town the sky was filled by gray clouds. Rain falling over them before their journey got anywhere out of Temple Gates view. “Well.” James started. “Gonna be a lot harder to follow our tracks.” Rain filling them with water. Mini streams flowing down hill sweeping away the rest.

“No bears will sniff us out either.” Jacob added.

“There are bears here?” Blake's concern rising.

“N-n-not for a long while. Haven't seen anything bigger than fat raccoon's.”

John grabbed onto a log to help hoist the others up. “If only they were actually fat. Would be a good meal, but it's all fluff.”

“A scrawny meals better than nothin’. Though I'd love to have steak a-a-again. Wouldn't care if I had to chew on it like leather.”

“Best I can do is a squirrel around here. Gotta beat the things to make the stringiness less of a chew.”

James grumbled at the two of them. “Can you both stop talkin' 'bout food. Least not 'till after we've caught some.”

“That's a ways away, old man.” John joked.

Blake after being helped up next glanced back down hill toward the engorged river rushing by. “Hey, we won't have any trouble with the river will we?”

“Shouldn't, we won't be crossing it f-f-from here on. Most we have to worry about is catching a sickness in this weather.”

“Hope it won't rain the entire way.”

“Heh, don't know how good y-y-your luck is. Mine's shit, heh.”

“And you're the one leading?”

“Not at all. That's John's job for the first few miles. If we die you can b-b-blame him. Heh.”

“Fuck off.” John smiled at Jacob. “We won't die long as-” He went quiet at the loud sound of crackling. Head shooting up to watch the tops of distant trees. One by one they sloped down as the loud snapping approached them. Blake, catching movement out of the corner of his eye, turned to see the mountain side sloping away. Whole adult trees that were on their path rode down on moving earth. Those same trees collapsing down on each other to loudly snap themselves to pieces. Grinded down into the earth to make a blended mud sludge. “Run that way!” John pointed toward a more stable land.

Each of them bolted off toward a part not sliding out from under their feet. Clambering over everything that was also on the move. Avoiding trees collapsing in a massive wave of mud. They leapt off a log to a safer part of land, Blake didn't have the same luck. The whole log shoved away by the mudslide he slipped to almost roll off it. He was forced to claw into the log free floating down the mountain. His traveling companions shrank in the distance, unable to keep up. Unable to see them anymore he turned to where the log was going. All the land flying off a cliff edge to slam down into the violent rapids flushed by the heavy rain. He flinched when it was his turn next. When the log hit it spun under the water to toss Blake off into the wild stream. Disoriented, he tried figuring out where the surface was. Spinning uncontrollably in the rapids below the surface. Water pitch black from mud not helped by the many logs rolling around. Bashing into the rocky river bed the air escaped his lungs. Knocked over debris one after another he somehow managed to be knocked to the surface. Clawing into a soaken slick log for dear life. Hacking painfully for air until he was spun back under. Tossed in and out repeatedly he was losing the energy to fight.

Hacking his lungs out on another log while the stream settled. Knocked around more by piling debris rather than rapids at this point. Closing in on a rocky shore line he clawed his way across multiple logs. Reaching land he struggled to get further up on it slipping under him. Its angle extra cruel on his battered body crawling up it to a flat ridge. He laid wheezing in the mud too tired to rise. Shivering soaking wet he shut his eyes meaning to do it briefly. Waking instead what seemed like hours later. Beaten almost to death he was tempted to go back to sleep. Rising enough to wipe his glasses clear he moved to stand. Feeling immense pain from his leg he looked back. A large chunk of a branch speared down the side of his lower leg.

“Fucking, shit. My fucking luck.” Reaching back for it at first then swiftly retracting his hand. “Can't yank it out. Can I keep it in though?” His blood pouring from the wound had him look away. Prepared for the pain he forced himself up. Growling through grit teeth he leaned against a nearby tree to recover. Searching for some-sort of recognizable marker. He couldn't see Temple Gate anymore and the mountains all looked the same. No idea where the others were he was left alone. “Fuck me.” He cursed again. Reaching into his vest for a roll of gauze. “Better than nothing I guess.” Wrapping up his bleeding wound. Trying to at least slow it despite the branch sticking out. Okay. Checking around without a clue on what to do.

“John?” He shouted and waited for an answer. Nothing, he shouted again. Hacking out his stinging lungs he almost vomited. Managing to keep everything down he held off on more shouting. Maybe I can get some place high and find a land marker? Limping forward he forced himself up the steep hillside. A lot farther than what he expected to make on his leg. Resting on a flat area he regretted committing to this. His leg felt both on fire and numb. This is worse than when I was actually on fire. Leaning over to catch up on his energy. Pushing on to make it up a scraggly cliff area he feared slipping off of. One tumble and I might end up back in the river. Or shredded on those rocks. Adjusting his soaken backpack full of cash to stay secure the further up he went.

Resting again at another flat top covered in soaked grass. Patch becoming extremely tempting as a place to fall asleep again. Hearing the underbrush rustling he shot up straight. “John?” Locking up at the sight of a stranger staring wide eyed at Blake's appearance. He was tall and covered by crossing scars. Black Hair cut neatly short parted by more scarring. A big dip marking half his lower jaw like a chunk was ripped away. His vibrant green eyes stood out from the dark circles surrounding them. What was most alarming was his covering of clay and leafage for camouflage. This was definitely a heretic and that meant Val wouldn't be far. The stranger looked away back down his path before finding Blake. Whipping their attention back toward him, locking an intense stare. Body stiffened with both hands tightened to fists. Pure rage filled his eyes moments before he ran out to slam into Blake.

“Fuck! Get off me!” Blake shouted in trying to shove the other off after having the wind knocked out of him. Kicking the other in the gut he fought the stunned other back to their feet. Punches traded between the two until Blake was slammed into a boulder. Swearing he felt something crack his body locked up in pain. Yanked around to be slammed back into the dirt he thrashed to get away. Clawing into the others arms choking him into the dirt. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Was what Blake's mind repeated. Unable to think much else on the lack of air.

“What are you doing?!” He heard a voice shout out of view. It distracted the other enough for Blake to hoist his legs up. Shocked that he managed to throw them both off a cliff edge he didn't realize was so close. Their fall short, down onto the rocks below. Last thing Blake experienced was hearing a thwack at the bottom then darkness.

A pulse in his head drumming along to a thumping migraine was his wake up greeting.

Tuning in on someone roaring a bunch of words. “ -TO STAY ALIVE! NOW LOOK AT HIM!”

Blake squinted an eye open. He was laying on his side at the bottom of the short cliff area. Surrounded by rocks, some coated red in blood. Two blurry forms coming to focus. One had another slammed up against the cliff side.

Verbally ripping into them by their scolding shouts. “ -YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!” He heard them seethe through their teeth. Shoving the other down. “Pick him up, we're taking him to the cave.” When they turned toward Blake his vision cleared enough to see who it was before him.

VAL?! His mind screamed. His eyes shooting open yanked her attention toward him. Caught off guard by him suddenly waking, she didn't have a chance to give orders. He jumped up from his laying position. Someone must've been leaning over him, because when he did he slammed his head into someone's jaw. The clack of their teeth together rattled down through his skull. Knocking whoever it was back into others nearby. Shoving the rest of himself up he ran back down the hillside he worked so hard to climb.

He heard Val shouting orders not far behind him. “Grab him!” Sounds of separating plants catching up behind him.

“Fuck, fuck, shit!” He let out a chain of panicked curses. Coughing again worsened his wheezing. Hating that his leg was burning and now his lungs were too. Can't stop, can't stop! Mind repeating simple thoughts of escape. Half tempted to jump back into the river where Val couldn't follow. He certainly couldn't out run her with how injured he was. Weighing his chances he headed for the river. Prepared to jump in when he heard a familiar terrifying sound. A howling yell from a raging Marta. Blake, out of old reflex, almost fled back. Forcing himself to rush forward in knowing it was now something safe. When they saw her appear up the bank. Blake collapsed down into an exhausted heap past her. Catching sight of Val slamming herself back into the dirt to stop before Marta. Ripping up the loose dirt under her heels in the process. Scrambling back up away from Marta moving in on her. The other heretics scurried away in various directions. When they were out of sight Marta turned to check on Blake.

“Are you well?”

Blake wheezed, unable to answer from his seated position. Everything catching up he hacked until he vomited what liquid was in his stomach. Fighting to not black out as Marta stood guard over him. “How?” He breathed out.

“I was watching you pass the mountain until the mudslide took you away. When those idiots separated to search I didn't trust them to find you. Came upon Val shouting so much he must've caught you.”

He still couldn't speak, merely nodding to show he heard.

“What happened to your leg?”

He looked down, fearful that he messed it up worse in all that sudden running. Taken aback by his leg having been treated. The branch gone, his wound packed over by a dark green poultice then wrapped in clean gauze. Checking his vest he found another bundle of gauze missing. They fixed my leg? Guess they just wanted all of me to make it back. My dead body wouldn't be too fun to keep prisoner. “Mudslide.” Was his best answer for now.

“Blake?” He heard a familiar voice. John approached down along the river. “What happened, are you okay?!”

“Damned goats almost got him.” Marta answered for him.

“Ugh, can we please call them something else.” Mumbling up to the two. “What about his leg?”

“Mudslide.”

“Can you get up at all?”

Blake shook his head. Marta continued to speak for him. “I wouldn't force him up for a few hours. Maybe not 'till tomorrow.”

“Okay, that's for the best just by lookin' at you. I'm gonna go back out and find the boys. If I don't, I'll return to set us up a camp.”

“Watch out for goats.” Marta warned, smirking at the ridiculous label. Blake would've chuckled if he had the spare air to.

“Can we please call them something else.” John whined again.

Blake thought a bit harder for a name. Remembering a certain book he read that fit the heretics' views. Going against religious suppression and wanting freedom. “Voltaire's?” Catching his breath again. “Big author, argued for freedom against church.” He surprisingly wheezed out in one go. Was also a really good band. He thought back to his school days listening to their music.

“Good enough.” John went off to search.

A few hours passed by the time he returned with the others. Able to get up on his feet they walked Blake from the area. Expecting the Voltaire's to make a night visit if they stuck around. A campfire was made with everyone popping open a can of food for dinner.

“Good news is we got far today. We're already on the other side of Voltaire mountain.” John spooned out some more chili.

“Not far enough, still gotta cross the rest of the mountain range. That'll take m-m-most the day for us. We won't make it outside 'till nightfall. We'll have to wait for stores to open next morning if its t-t-too late.”

“If we manage to get a truck the return journey won't be as long at least. You think the doctors still around?”

“Didn't hear anything about him leaving last I was there.”

“Where is he? Down a back alley?”

Jacob shook his head. “He's in a small doctors office. All legally set up, for the most part. When you go in you say you have a prescription and h-h-hand a piece with our symbol scribbled on it.” Flashing a small bit of tanned hide with the cross entwined by circles branded on. “Doctor takes us in back for business.”

Blake continued to ask questions. Wanting to know how everything would go down. How the doctor himself acted. Whether or not he seemed to be a real doctor at all or a scam artist in a white coat. What he was told by Jacob settled his worry's. The doctor has an honest-ish job. A legal place with all the proper paperwork to back it up if inspectors came knocking. He was just greedy for money and saw more business selling pills out back. Done talking for now they rested down against their bags. Marta stayed up to guard until morning.

[homonculos]

sorry to longpost complain. aita at my workplace (i kno im not im j mad)

my boss is so fucking annoying.... i had an informal performance review with him yesterday and here's how it went:

boss: how do you think youre doing?

me: um ok i think? im still getting my feet under me but im enjoying it so far [been abt 2 months since i started]

boss: yea youre doing a great job. so uh what happened w the car break in? [company property was stolen in the process]

[i explain the story; expressly indicate that i want to make it right, including fulfilling a clause in the equipment policy that says the $ to buy new equipment can be taken out of my next paycheck. boss is incredulous; says that is likely not necessary. im relieved.]

boss: so it seems like youre having trouble with [z], so i sent you some ideas.

me: i saw that email, looks great. ill take a look at those in the coming weeks. also, here's a long list of ideas that i got from a different meeting this morning.

boss: oh, looks great. ok. any other questions for me?

me: um not really. i guess i'd ask, do you want me to focus more on X or Y? [the long list of ideas i brought to meeting are all X-related]

boss: uh well i guess both when you can. we haven't had much X lately since i started running this operation, so that's welcome. feel free to work on things i cover as well [his stuff is mostly Y].

me: ok, ill start looking into Y and X things as they come around. another question, is 3 projects/week still an ok productivity level for you?

boss: uh i dont know where you got that idea. 5/week is what we all aim for. that shouldnt be a problem for you since you did 3 projects/day at your last job.

me: oh ok, ill start doing more.

boss: yea i dont know where you got that idea. i help out where i can [meaning he writes a couple 6 sentence paragraphs/week and calls those complete projects] but everyone does 5/week. that shouldnt be a problem for you.

me: its not a problem! i just didnt know. ill start aiming for that.

EPILOGUE

i turned in a project later that afternoon. the project in question follows a very contentious, months-long event that has disrupted the community our org works with and resulted in two major leadership changes. no response from boss when i notify him.

at 7pm boss replies to me:

[paraphrasing] "i appreciate you researching this and handing in a complete project, but it could have just been a 6 sentence paragraph." [end paraphrase]"

8:45 am this morning, unprompted: (direct quote, excluding brackets for privacy)

"not sure where you heard 3 [projects] a week. Even [colleague 1] does that many and he edits 2 days a week. He sometimes does 5. [colleague 2] and [colleague 3] both do 5-10 [projects] a week. Anyway, since you did 3 [projects] a day at your last job I don't think that should be a problem for you. It's really easy to do a project in 8 hours. In fact most [projects] we do should take half that time. Even long and complicated [projects] shouldn't take longer than 2-3 days."

is it just me or was this not a problem until I BROUGHT IT UP.... like u have every right to be mad at me if i wasnt doing something u wanted me to do. but you have to TELL ME TO DO IT FIRST!!!!

also we already talked about this in person??? why are you repeating yourself and chastising me???

fucking boomers man. this guy retires at the end of the year fortunately but its really annoying to deal with him. it's been problems ever since the beginning too.

and as an addendum, i have a friend who is fighting for their dreams to get into grad school right now, and im so proud and so so so jealous. and they love their job right now too! its renewing their interest in our shared field! im so happy for them but im so bitter that i made a life-changing choice a year ago and its turning out like this. i should journal! i need to journal ack

[vodka-redbull-daily]

November 30th, 2023

Yoday I met up with T-- from SB. we've been talking a little bit back and forth about maybe meeting up, but he would want me to meet up at his place and he lives all the way in L--- V----. that's like an hour from me. although, it is kind of strange that that's fairly close to where I grew up. I used to go to church in that little town and even though my childhood home was a solid 30 minutes away, everything was a solid 30 minutes away. it's country enough for my neighbor to own horses and chickens, so things being widely spaced out is pretty typical.

we met at a place called BJ's. I don't know if that counts as irony or not or maybe just a stupid double entendre that made me giggle. It had been raining a little bit that morning but I hadn't brought an umbrella or anything. mostly because I didn't own one, so I was just a little bit damp as I walked into the restaurant. he looked like his pictures, but his voice didn't seem to match. it was pretty high-pitched and a little snobbish. not nasally, but like you could tell he likes to talk down to people whenever he gets a chance. that being said, he was kind of nice to me. he would like to interrupt me anytime I talked, but I think that's just a man thing.

 we talked for a little bit about what I do for work, about what he does for work, but what I do in my free time. the usual stuff before we finally got into the business side of things. he asked me about how much I expect to make and I said about 350 a week. then he went to details about how he hated it when women asked for so much money right off the bat. he didn't say that right, but he had the attitude of assuming anybody who was outside of his budget was just a gold digger. I find it so weird when men on those sites call women gold diggers. Like…  what did you expect? do you not realize what site you're on?

 I guess my price was good enough for him, because he kept talking to me and didn't just leave. he asked about  when or if I would expect to be paid if we simply went out and did a fun little activity together rather than sleeping together. I explained that if we went out and did something small, like this little lunch meeting, then I would just expect him to cover the bill but not to actually get paid for it. if we need to actually fucking, then I would expect to get paid. he agreed with me on this, again dipping into that area of thinking that any women who expects to get paid it's just a gold digger, and then he talked about trying to invite me to a Renaissance Fair that's happening nearby. He said  he could tell that I would enjoy Renaissance fair, which I feel like is a little bit of a read, but not incorrect. after that, he walked me to my car, of course commented on the stickers, and they went back in to pay the bill.  we'll see if the renaissance fair thing pans out, and even though he was one of the least annoying people that I met with,  Lago Vista is just really hard to drive so I don't know if we're going to be together for much longer.

 later on in the day, R------- texted me and sent me $50 just get some pictures. he didn't even want nudes or anything, just some pictures of me. I sent him some of my stockpile that I have since it takes me forever to actually take a new pictures. I always feel like I look fat, or ugly, or just awkward in any pictures I take. so, I just have a bunch that I send to guys over and over again. honestly,  I haven't run into a problem doing this yet. most guys ghost me before they even ask for more than the pictures I already have taken.  even though he didn't specifically ask for news, he did ask for a picture of my tits later on that night and I sent them. why not? my face isn't in them.

Also, as I was pulling into my parking spot at work, my steering died. like I would turn the wheel but the tires wouldn't spin with it. I texted W---- about it and he sent me some money to get it towed. he also sent me some money  for Ubers back and forth, especially since we have that party coming up on Friday. he talked about helping me change the oil and looking at the car himself since it's been acting funny for so long, but at this point with the steering acting all wonky, it needs to be like that as soon as possible. the only problem with working second shift is that all of the places were closed so I just had to drop it off at some random mechanic, call them, and leave a voicemail explaining the situation as best I could. hopefully, it'll be better in the morning.

Total Earned: $5,570

Body Count: 22

Dick Pics: 20

Videos: 2

Nudes sent: 2

Head Recieved: 3

Head Given: 15

Sex Ranking:

B------

Him

T----

W-----

P------

F----

G---

A---

G--

R--

T------

J--

M--- (x2)

D--

J------

A----

M---