#i just know he'd fuck up a casserole

[talaok]

Old Man

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel needs glasses but won't admit it, and there's only an amount of teasing a man can take before he decides to show you just how much of an old man he is.

warnings: unprotected p in v sex, creampie, hair pulling, (joel gets a lil rough)

Ellie was the one to start it all,

I mean it's not like you hadn't noticed, but she was the one that started with the jokes.

Not very honorable of you to blame it all on the 14 year old, you knew... but still, just to get the record straight, you weren’t the one to tease him first.

“Gimmie Granpa” she had chuckled one time, grabbing the piece of paper where Maria had written down the recipe for her 'world-famous' casserole from his hands.

"Hey-" He'd protested,

"You can't see shit, man" she giggled, "Stop trying to fight it- you're getting old buddy"

And well from then on things had... escalated.

You'd yet to see a day where the poor man wasn't made fun of because of it, but truth be told, he really did need glasses.

You'd even suggested it to him more gently, in the comfort of your own room, away from Ellie's prying eyes.

"y'know baby, there's nothing wrong with getting glasses"

He'd looked at you as if you'd just told him to go fuck himself.

"Don't look at me like that" you'd smiled, rounding the bed to intertwine your hands behind his neck "It's for your own good"

"I don't need glasses"

"no?" you'd bit down a grin "you sure?"

"'m sure alright" he grumbled

"I bet Tommy would know where to get you a pair if you asked"

"darlin'"

"yes, baby?" you'd asked, hopeful

"I don't need 'em"

And you really did want to keep on trying to convince him, but then he'd kissed you and well- it must have slipped your mind.

Unluckily for him, not for a very long time.

He was in the bathroom, trying, or more specifically struggling, to open a bandaid for your injured finger.

It wasn't anything serious, just a little cut, but as you'd disinfected it, he'd insisted on covering it up, only of course you hadn't expected it to take so long.

"Baby, what's wrong, you can't find them?"

But the answer to your question was right before you as you entered the bathroom.

As I said, he was struggling.

A laugh bubbled up your throat as you took in his focused expression, the frown on his forehead, the squint in his eyes...

"Let me do it"

"No I can do it I just-" he tried to get it open again, failing miserably.

"Joel-" you smiled, walking up to him "let me" you said softly

And with a sigh, he surrendered, handing you the poor, tortured bandaid

"I could have done that" he grumbled as he watched you do it in a split second.

"Sure you could, old man" You grinned to yourself, carefully applying the bandage to your finger.

"What did you just say?"

A soft, breathless gasp fled your mouth-

He'd moved right behind you, and his hands were now on your waist.

"Jesus babe" you laughed,

"What did you say?"

His voice was rough, and his eyes... something had shifted behind his eyes.

You watched his reflection in the mirror before you as you answered

"I said I'm sure you could"

"Mhh" he hummed, his head lowering until he could dive into your neck and inhale your scent "The other thing"

"what other thing?" you feigned innocence, enthralled by his demeanor, by the almost predatorial look in his eyes

"You know what"

"no I don'-"

But you didn't have time to finish, he'd already grabbed you by your hair, pulling your head back until his mouth was ghosting yours

"you called me an old man, darlin'?"

He was a different man from a minute ago.

This was the Joel Miller people feared, the one that killed without remorse, the one that fucked you rough- the once that a sick and twisted part of you revered.

"Baby I was jokin-"

"didn't look like it" he growled, his clothed hard-on pressing into your ass making you whimper, "you think I'm an old man, babydoll?" he murmured, his grip tightening around your hair "I'll show you how much of an old man I am"

Next thing you knew, your upper body was flushed against the sink's countertop, and your shorts were at your feet, together with your panties.

You watched from the mirror as he freed his cock with the hand that wasn't holding you down, and then you felt it-

"will you look at that" he chuckled darkly, the tip of his dick sliding between your folds with ease "you're makin' a mess for an old man, babydoll"

"J-Joel" you whimpered

"no no darlin'" he cooed "You've brought this on yourself- now you're gonna be good and take it, alright?"

When you didn't respond, he yanked your head back, forcing you to look at him through the mirror

"alright?" he bent down, growling in your ear

"y-yes"

"try not to be too loud," he whispered "You wouldn't want people to know how much you like getting fucked by an old man"

You had no time to respond, to tell him how much you didn't care, because he'd already pushed himself fully inside of you, and the only thing you could do was scream.

"you can't help yourself can ya?" he muttered, watching your face contort in all sorts of bliss-induced expressions "The old man gives it to ya too good, 's that it?" he groaned, feeling your walls squeeze around him

"look at me" he ordered, pulling your hair again, making you open your eyes and watch him as he ruthlessly slammed inside of you "Look at the old man who's fuking you, darlin', don't be rude" he grinned

The sound of his skin against yours reverberated through the bathroom, and god it was nasty.

"f-fuck" you tried to speak, tears tarnishing your vision

"I know, I know" he pretended to care, getting up from where he was pressing his torso onto your back, using a hand to get you to remain flush against the sink "I'm going too slow, ain't I?"

Oh shit

Oh fucking shi-

If you thought he was going hard before... you hadn't seen anything.

You couldn't fully create one single thought in your mind as he picked up his pace, as he started literally slamming into you fast and hard enough to break you in half.

"I'm jus' an old man after all babydoll, ain't I?" he breathed, one hand still on your back while the other was still forcing your head up to look at him "You'll understand if I can't fuck you as hard as you'd like" it was like he wasn't hearing how loud you were moaning, how breathless your whines and gasps where each time his dick hit your cervix "what's that?" he mocked "you need it harder darlin'?"

"J-Joel-" you whined, begging, pleading for what you weren't even sure

"shh I got you baby" he cooed, bending down to whisper in your ear again, slowing down his pace just to thrust so fucking deep and hard into you you swore you saw stars "I know my old man's pace ain't enough for you doll"

But it was- Oh it was more than enough.

And yet he didn't care- he was going even harder, even faster, even deeper, and you... you didn't even remember your name anymore.

You could feel the thickness of his cock as it slammed into you over and over and over again, the way it would hit the most hidden spots inside of you, the ones only Joel had only ever been able to find, and then-

And then you could hear his grunts and strangled groans as he fucked you within an inch of your life, as his hair fell to his forehead and tears streamed down your face and your eyes struggled to remain open, struggled to keep on watching him as he fucked you from behind with enough force to break the fucking sink you were on.

Until it got to be too much, until you felt your stomach tighten and the fuse lighting, until he hit that secret spot once again, and all you could do was close your eyes as bliss took over your body, as waves of ecstasy washed over you.

"look at you" he groaned "coming all over an old man's cock" he breathed, your walls squeezing him too good to do anything else but follow suit "letting an old man come deep inside of ya"

It took a long moment for either of you to wake up from the sex-induced haze, but Joel was in much better shape than you, so it was him who came back earlier.

he begrudgingly pulled out, enjoying for a moment too long his own handy work before he helped you up, picking you up bridal style once he realized how useless your legs had become.

"baby" you murmured, before he could place you on the bed "You know I was joking right?" you said, leaning up to kiss him, your mouth catching his in a sweet, gentle kiss that contradicted completely the way he'd just ruined your ability to walk properly

"You're not an old man" you promised

"mh?" he hummed, kissing you again just because he could

"yeah" you smiled, melting into the kiss for what felt like an eternity

He was holding you gently, watching your eyes as they begged to close.

"good" he hummed against your mouth, watching it twist into a devious little smirk as a spark ignited in your eyes

"Although I still think you should at least consider getting glasses-"

"darlin'" he stopped you immediately "I suggest you stop talkin''"

"or what?" you bit down a grin, laughing softly

"Or Tommy's gonna be real mad when you tell him you can't make it to patrol tomorrow 'cause your legs don't work"

[strangerstilinski]

hiii my dear <333

would love if you could combine [heal] and [kiss] with steve 🫶

love u n have the bestest day

[HEAL] sender ends up in the receiver's lap trying to tend to their wounds to the best of their abilities. [KISS] the sender lowers themselves into the receiver's lap in order to kiss them properly.

Steve is bleeding. Again.

And why is it that Steve always seems to be fucking bleeding? If it's not a fistfight, it's inter-dimensional monsters. And if it's not monsters, it's foreign governments who hold no qualms against beating and torturing minimum-wage mall employees in the hopes that it might yield answers.

This isn't like any of those times. You know that. And yet, watching the slow trail of blood ooze from the gash at Steve's hairline, crimson dripping slow down his temple and smearing into his brow — It makes your stomach turn. Makes your knees wobble just slightly. The floor suddenly feeling decidedly unsteady beneath your feet.

You'd asked him to find a casserole dish and he'd practically crawled his way inside one of the lower kitchen cabinets in his search. Wide shoulders crowded into the space, his narrow waist on display as he reached even farther and prompted his shirt to ride up. Your eyes had been glued to the dimples at the base of his spine, objectifying gaze too stuck on the way his jeans pulled on his backside and thighs, the way the elastic waistband of his briefs cut into the softness of his hips-

He'd yelled triumphantly as he re-emerged, and you'd been too distracted to warn him to watch his head when he turned a bit too early and bashed against the edge of the opening with a resounding thunk.

You couldn't care less about cooking dinner, now. You're entirely too consumed with worry at the sight of the blood pouring from Steve's head. And, alright, pouring might be a bit dramatic. But your boyfriend is bleeding, and it's slightly your fault.

You push him from the kitchen and he drops dutifully into a chair when you give his shoulder a pointed shove. Both of your hands find their way to his face, warmth bleeding into your palms as you try to angle his head into the light a bit.

He only winces a little when you push his hair up out of the way so you can see where his skin is split. Your fingers tighten around his jaw, biting into his cheek as you turn his head this way and that in an attempt to get a better look. A frown pulls at your lips as you note the swelling that's already building into a sizable lump, and no sooner have your lips quirked downward when Steve's hands find the backs of your thighs.

"Hey, pretty sure I'm the one who's supposed to be pouting, pouty." His hands tighten, dragging you forward until you're standing slotted between his legs.

Warm, honeyed brown eyes peer up at you, his hands rubbing up and down the backs of your thighs in a comforting motion. The way he looks after you, even now, when he's the one who's injured — It sends your heart thrumming wildly.

You snatch some paper towel from the tabletop and dab at his head lightly, frown sinking further when blood immediately wells back up and begins to follow that same path down his forehead and into his eyebrow.

"It seems like it's bleeding a lot," You tell him, blotting at the growing egg on his head again, "I don't think it should be bleeding this much. Should it be bleeding this much?"

"It's a head wound, they bleed a lot." He shrugs, like it's no big deal.

You repeat his words back, mockingly, putting a little more pressure on the towel to his head. And then, "How much is 'a lot'?"

To your frustration, Steve just shrugs again, "I dunno, should stop in the next few minutes, I guess. If it does, we're good. If not, I guess I'm probably a goner-"

The pressure you're applying to the towel increases enough to have Steve wincing again, but you refuse to feel bad.

"That isn't funny." Your eyes drift as Steve's lower lip juts out, soft and plush and not even remotely portraying genuine apology. "Now who's pouting?" You grumble quietly.

"The guy who just came within an inch of braining himself to find your casserole dish, actually." Steve returns your snark all-too easily, "You know what'd really help, though?"

Your eyes narrow just slightly at the sweet edge to his voice, at the way his palms press with a little more intent into the backs of your legs. He's still looking up at you, lips quirked up now into that flirty grin of his, chin jutting out like he's expecting you to just bend down to kiss him already.

"What?" You ask, infuriatingly breathless in the wake of his touch, the gentle rumble of his voice.

"C'mere."

He pulls at your thighs again and you realize he's trying to get you to sit down. You smile softly, stepping back from between his legs and settling into place in his lap. Your thighs frame his hips, towel still pressed firmly to his head all the while.

"Better?" You ask, nosing at the space between his brows before placing a fleeting peck to his forehead.

Steve hums, "No, no, not quite. Think you could spare another kiss?"

"Oh, I suppose," You sigh woefully, like it's a big ask, though you both know it isn't. Your lips find the bridge of his nose, "Like this?"

Steve hums again, "Not quite. Little lower, honey."

You lean back just a bit to look at him, the way his eyes have clouded over with something like adoration. It still makes your head spin, that he looks at you like that-

Your thumb strokes his cheek, lips finding the tip of his nose and just staying there for a moment — waiting.

"Lower." He orders softly, his nose nudging up against you as he tips his chin up toward you.

Your lips brush his cupids bow, faint stubble scratching softly when you press the faintest kiss to his mouth. "Here?" You whisper against his lips, breath mingling warmly with his own, "Does this help?"

He knocks the bloodied paper towel from your hands and ignores your protests as he drags you back down for another kiss, this one deeper.

You're breathless when you pull back again, your eyes glued to the shine of spit on Steve's lips before your gaze flicks up to the drying blood at his hairline, the cut clotted and no longer bleeding.

"Hey, you stopped bleeding." You tell him, relieved.

"Yeah, that's great-" He says blankly, already sliding his hand to the nape of your neck to pull you back in, "Now, c'mere-"

[alchemistc]

Thinking thoughts about Gerrard deciding, day one, that Diaz is his only ally amidst this group of degenerates. Diaz, with his dead wife and his disabled kid, close enough to be white passing if he ignores the Spanish phrases always coming out in between his sentences.

Eddie, who has Too Much going on to really notice the preferential treatment until he's having drinks with Tommy and Buck and Buck is just railing about what a fucking douche Gerrard is being, and what he'd say if his job wasn't on the line, and how Gerrard seems to have an extra squirrelly bug up his ass about Buck in particular because he's really the only member of the group that actually fits Gerrard's typical bill.

("Except, you know, the part where I really enjoy having a dick up my ass, like that's a personal choice I made just to piss him off, specifically."

"Well I sure hope not," Tommy says, cheesing when Eddie makes a face at the both of them.)

In the face of this realization, Eddie decides he's already torpedoed literally his entire life, so what's a little disrespect to his Captain gonna do?

Eddie responding to every order from Gerrard with an obtuse "Si senor, claro." Eddie listening to Gerrard's commands and then immediately turning to Hen or Chimney with a raised brow like "Sound right to you?" and just waiting there until he gets a head nod from one of them.

Eddie gentle-parenting his way through every homophobic, racist, misogynistic remark that comes out of Gerrard's mouth. "Oh, the preferred term is transgender, Cap." "Actually, Cap, that's a term that's been reclaimed by the community but I'm pretty sure you're not in the community so you shouldn't say that." "Well, Cap, I think you'll be very lucky if she doesn't file a complaint -- were you not around for the whole #metoo moment we had half a decade back?" "They/Them is actually really easy, we use it all the time without realizing it, like, remember when [...]" etc etc.

Clipboard!Buck doesn't get him. Out and proud Hen doesn't get him. "I will talk back I don't care how many times you write me up" Chimney doesn't get him. Ravi constantly serving him the biggest, burntest piece of casserole every time they eat doesn't get him.

Eddie "Baby Runs For President" Diaz is what ultimately does Gerrard in.

[ladyosiriscreates]

hi lady osiris!! thank you for offering to take my soap request 💛

can we get a little something about soap x stressed out reader? where she’s had a super long, difficult week?? how would he help her unwind?

Oh I do love this, as someone who is a permanently exhausted pigeon herself and stressed to the max. Let's explore shall we?

Please forgive me, I've never written an x reader before so I do hope you enjoy lovey!

Soap x Fem!Reader for sweet @soapsgf 4.1k words

Tags: Comfort, Smut, mans is good with his hands and better with his mouth. m on v, unprotected sex, fluff, so much fluff.

It had never been uncommon for John Mactavish to fill the silence with his voice, the lilt of it a familiar sound within your apartment. But he'd noticed little changes through the week, what silence did remain wasn't comforting, the dishes and clutter piling up around you even as your eyes darted anxiously about, making tallies on an ever growing list of things needed to be done. 

He noted the way you counted on your fingers, twisting and pinching at the skin of your knuckles as if looking for something to ground yourself. Your hands always seeking in their restlessness, a mind that couldn’t quiet even in your sleep.

“M’eudail… What's eating at you? You know I can help you better if we talk about this…” He beckoned, nearly pleading as he drew you into his arms. “Ye cannae deny it at this point, I’ve watched you circle the kitchen four times holding a glass and doing nothing with it.”

“The dishes-” you gasped, pressing your palm to your forehead and groaning. “That’s right, I have to do the dishes so I can take back the casserole dish to Diane, and then I can clean the counter, and make-”

His lips cut off your words, silencing them as his hands found your cheeks, thumbs massaging at the supple flesh. “Fuck the dishes and fuck Diane, she’s been a right cunt lately anyways, I remember you complaining about her monday. She can wait a day or two more for a damn casserole dish. Now. Do ye work tomorrow?” He asked, forehead gently pressed to yours. It was the first he’d felt you relax in days as you melted beneath his touch, your only reply a soft nod to his question.

The glass was stolen from your hand and placed onto the counter as he turned and ushered you towards your bedroom. A sacred place often shared between the two of you. Though he hadn’t moved in yet, it didn’t stop either of you from sharing a wardrobe, having drawers in each other's dressers, a toothbrush in each other's holders, and more haircare products than two people could ever possibly use. Your room was a haven, draped in soft pink and gray blankets with candles and trinkets brought back from his deployments. His favorite was a large glass jar full of rocks. On every deployment since you’d met, before you even started dating he’d brought back a rock, writing in sharpie the day he had picked it up for you. You each set your favorite rock in front of the jar to always be well and truly displayed- the pair having been chosen on one of your first dates together. You’d gone camping, and at the lakes rocky beach you proposed a game. Find rocks that looks like the others eye colors, closest to matching won. It had been almost too easy a win for you, finding a rock so bright and blue-gray with speckles of quartz that made it glitter. The smug look on your face when you’d found it, the gentle whoop and cheer as you won had been more than enough for him to fall in love right then and there.

Gone was that smile from your face, something that ached at him as he closed his eyes for a moment to picture its light. “Yer gonna rest here, okay? I’ll go wash Diane’s damned casserole dish. Ye can take it to work with you in the morning. S’alright if I stay here with you tonight? Miss my girl.” He teased, hooking a hand beneath your thigh and lifting you up onto the edge of the bed. It never failed to surprise you just how easily he lifted your weight, tossing you around like his own personal ragdoll from time to time. 

He set you on the bed, slowly peeling away layers of clothes and tossing them into a nearly full hamper before bringing out one of his tee shirts and pulling it over your frame. “There’s my bonnie little thing.” 

“‘M not a thing.” You muttered, biting down on the inside of your cheek indignantly- just to hear his soft laugh. 

“Yer right, not a thing. No… M’eudail, yer everything.” He mused, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before drawing his arms about you and nestling your anxious body back to the sheets. “...I know you’re not ready to talk about it now, that you need to sort through the things in your head yourself first before you can explain it… but I’m here, I will be here until the day you no longer let me stand beside you.” He promised, the words flowing forth like water from a spring. It comforted him just as much as he hoped it comforted you when he felt you nuzzle into his chest, eyes closed and breathing beginning to settle.

But for all your stress, the things you wouldn't talk about- you didn't snap. You didn't take it out on him or silence him. He almost wished you would. Anything to hear your voice and coax you back to him. Johnny knew you tended to isolate when your mind climbed to new and stressed heights, so to be allowed this glimpse into your mind, to be walked hand in hand through the turbulence of your soul- it was a greater gift than he knew how to accept. Only to hope that you would allow him to do it for the rest of your lives.

“Ye don’t know it yet…” he whispered against your settling form, kisses pressed to the top of your head, breathing in the familiar scent of your hair. He was glad you fell asleep quickly, keeping his words soft as not to rouse you. “But you saved me. Took a man with aimless devotion to his work and grounded him. Brought him back from a ledge so many walk off. I used to dread coming home, craved the firefight and relentless rush of fighting for my life. But god damn it all, you’ve given me something real to fight for. Now you’re just the one thing I come home to. I wake up glad for you… I guess, what I’m trying to say- know we haven’t said it yet… but I’m in love with you. The good, the bad, every piece of you that you show to me just gives me more to love. I’m so in love with you, and I can’t wait for you to wake up so I can say it to your face.”

He waited an hour or so more before temporarily untangling your limbs, taking his phone to the living room and sitting down to make a call. A familiar voice made him smile, though it sounded annoyed to be woken so late.

“Tavish, what do y’need?” Price asked, clearing his throat of sleep. “Better be good if yer waking me up for it.”

“Aye, know you need yer beauty sleep, Cap. But I’m hoping to get the next couple of days off.” He exclaimed, knee bouncing as he rested his other arm over his knee. 

“Everything okay? Not in trouble are you?” He followed up, clearly more alert. Because while not as bad as Simon, getting Johnny to take time off from work was like pulling teeth. “No one died?”

This caused a small laugh to escape him, unable to contain his own humored emotion. “No, Sir. No one died… i… ah.” he cleared his throat. “My girl needs me. She’s having a tough time, and always makes herself available f’r me… ‘bout time I returned the favor. ‘M gonna tell her I love her.”

The silence that spread between them was thick, nearly audible surprise in Price’s voice when he spoke again. “How long-”

“Eight months. Last time you sent me on leave for a month, I met her picking up some books for my ma and sis. I didn’t want to say ‘nything till I knew it was… serious. But it’s serious… I think this is it for me Cap. She is it for me.” He exclaimed, eyes warm as he stared at the coffee table before him. “She feels like home just as much if not more than the 141 does. She’s patient with me, accepts that she may never understand what I do but will never stop me from doing it… I want you all to meet her soon.”

Price’s voice was notably softer now, pride swelling within him. It was all he’d ever hoped for his boys, to find something just as important to him as the work. To open themselves up in ways he hadn’t yet been able to. “Is a week enough?”

“Cap- I was only asking for a few days-” Johnny began.

“A week. If she’s having a hard time, give ‘er the world… show her the meaning behind your feelings and your words, Tav. Do Simon and Kyle know?” He asked.

“They’ve had inklings… but you’re the first person I’ve confirmed anything to.” Johnny admitted, turning over a book that rested on the edge of the coffee table, the phone resting comfortably in his other hand. “Thank you, Cap. I… can’t wait for you guys to meet her. She’s absolutely brilliant… and mine. ‘M not sharin…” He exclaimed.

Their conversation ended with pleasantries and the agreed upon reasoning that would be put on his paperwork before he returned to bed, pulling you back into his arms to keep you there till morning came. 

He pretended to remain sleepy and nestled in after you kissed his forehead goodbye, only jumping from the bed when he heard the door lock behind you. So much to do and so little time to do it. Eight hours and counting as he cracked his knuckles, putting on some dance-y pop music to get the day going. There was nothing like hearing a scottish lilted rendition of Dirty Mind by 3OH!3 and Last Friday Night by Katy Perry. And he made sure to record little bouts of it between chores, saving the videos to show you later.

His start was the rest of the dishes, picking them up from all over the apartment, handwashing what needed a bit of extra help before loading the rest into the dishwasher and running it. Next, he took your laundry, sorting it and starting the largest load he could. All of this was about you, for you… his love. To ease the burden resting on your shoulders, the weight that threatened to bend you till you broke. 

While the dishes and laundry ran, he swept and vacuumed, rearranging the furniture to make sure no spot was missed. Your books were stacked on the coffee table, his sketchbook and pencils set beside it. It was your best friend he called next, asking for the recipe for her chicken and gnocchi that you loved so dearly, making a quick run to the grocery store to pick up ingredients. There he also picked up an assortment of desserts, cannolis, ice cream, and cheesecake, a lactose intolerant persons nightmare… or daydream, knowing how willing to ignore their intolerance most were. When you texted to say that work was making you stay a couple hours extra, he only sighed in relief. While it annoyed him that they were keeping you from coming home to him, he was glad for more time to better set up his surprise. 

Some people would think perhaps it was strange to buy three of the same candle, but now that he was back in your apartment, he put one on the coffee table, one on your desk, and the third in the kitchen. Sweet Mint and Grapefruit. Something comforting and uplifting, just like how he hoped to have you. On the chair closest to the door, he laid out soft pajamas, intent to have you out of your work clothes and leaving that world behind you, if even only for the weekend. Clothes were folded and put away from the laundry, your bed made as a pot simmered on the stove. The realization that he loved you had hit him like a freight train, making his heart soar and sing, so to see you so stressed and pained… he felt it at his core.

The door unlocking had him perked like a dog, vaulting the back of your couch to meet you at the door, his hands on your forearms with an earsplitting smile. “Mo ghràdh…” He swallowed, watching as the startled confusion faded to recognition, a tired and strained smile pressing to your lips.

“Johnny, sunshine… lemme get my shoes and stuff off- WHATAREYOUDOING JOHN AIDAN MACTAVISH-” 

But your shriek only spurned him further, soft laughter tearing from his throat as he lifted you easily past the threshold and taking your bag to set it on the ground. “Turn your brain off, Mo ghràdh. Just let me handle… everything.” He cooed, catching your eyes as they wandered about your freshly spotless apartment. 

“Johnny… when did you…” but your words stalled again as he sank to his knees before you, eyes light with hunger and reverence. 

“Called into work. I’m yours for the whole next week… Cap pulled some strings for me.” He explained, watching your eyes widen and water. Any words of dissent fell away as his hands smoothed over your hips, bringing his face to your abdomen as his fingers dipped into the waistband of your clothes. “Ya had a long day, hen… tha’s not lost on me… and the weeks been so hard for ya… just let me take care of it, let me take care of you. Can ye be a good girl and let me do that for you?” Johnny hummed, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

Only when he felt you melt into his touch, your eyes closing a nod consenting to his actions, did he continue. His hands left your hips to remove your shoes and socks, a kiss pressed to your clothed knee as he did. “My pretty bird… so sweet for me… working so hard to make everyone happy, you just forget about yourself do ye? Not a soul in this world deserves your kindness, your smile… hell, let alone me. The fact that I get it at all?” He sighed contently, tugging the waistband of your pants down, and your underwear with it. “Perhaps that’s the closest I’ll ever get to heaven… and I couldn’t be more glad for it. Glad for you to have waltzed your way into my life and made a home in my heart.”

The flush that had grown on your cheeks, the warmth that spread through your body as his touch wandered over beautifully scarred skin, kissing freckles and dimples, anything that could be considered an imperfection by a society that had forgotten what love and devotion truly were. His hands caressed from thigh to waist, bringing your shirt up over your arms, guiding you forward just enough that he could pull it over your head and press his lips to your forehead once more. “Yer perfect f’me… so perfect.” He breathed, pushing up on his knees to wrap his arms around you, chin resting just at the lowest part of your sternum as he flicked his fingers, your bra coming undone and falling slack off your shoulders.

He relished in the sigh that left your lips, enjoying that bras existed only so he could remove them from your beautifully painted body. “My cliodna, my venus, my very own aphrodite. Not a single thing in this world is more precious than my girl…”

“Johnny…” You groaned, turning your head away to hide the ever growing flush at your cheeks. 

“Please look at me…” He bid, eyes wide and almost puppyish as he pressed ticklish kisses to your naval, facial hair gently scratching at the skin to make you jump into him. When he saw your gaze back upon him, a boyish grin crossed his face, wedging your legs apart as he walked you back to the door to lean against it. “Oh, Mo ghràdh, don’t look at me like that, makes it hard to think.” Johnny teased, hiking one of your legs over his shoulder. “Hold on if you need to, but I promise I’ve got you.”

And when he looked at you like that, as if he were a man gazing upon salvation, how could you not believe him?

Any thoughts were quickly interrupted by his kisses as they trailed lower before pressing against the sensitive apex at the top of your heat. Unbeknownst to you, his devotion had already taken affect as he felt wetness against his tongue, savoring the ragged gasp that left your lips like a starved man. 

Fingers dug at the fleshy part of your hips, his chin inclining as his lashes fluttered, eyes rolling back as he began a sweet and unyielding pace. He was yours, so deeply and entirely yours as he doted upon your body, seeking only to hear those familiar and sweet moans that showed just how you were feeling. Because while your mind may betray you, your voice and body never could, not when he was between your legs.

Your hands fell to the longer, thickened and somewhat curly hair of his mohawk, fingers curling into it as you momentarily debated whether to push him back or- no, no, you pulled him closer, hips canting against his lips with a breathy cry as his other hand slipped down between your legs, two fingers finding their way inside to curl and thrust against the spongy heat that craved to be full. As you whispered a soft apology for pulling his hair so roughly, you were silenced by his own moan, your eyes meeting for only a moment as you caught sight of his flushed cheeks and blown pupils. It was a romantics painting in its own right, the visual opposition of The Fallen Angel by Alexandre Cabanel, this angel full of endearing passion and idolization. 

Your eyes rolled back as his tongue delved deeper, circling your clit as he traced letters over it, something only for him as he savored your sweetness upon his tongue.

I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U. Over and over until he felt your hips begin to tremble, leg buckling as you grew nearer and nearer to release. On different terms, he would have stopped, wanting to draw out and prolong your pleasure as long as he could, torturing you with your release- but not today. Not now, no. That was for a day where his focus was on not only you.

“Sunshine-” you whispered, the breath stuttered along with your hips when his fingers curled against that spot deep inside you, stars bursting in front of your open eyes as your vision went white. Did you scream? Did you moan? You briefly felt a bit of pain on your tongue, a metallic taste spreading across it as you subconsciously bit down, weak whimpers sending your body trembling and tumbling forward into your Johnny.

He was all too happy to sustain you, holding you up and pinning your hips to the door as he lapped up the thick and creamy juices that spilled onto his tongue, face glistening when he finally pulled away with a rough gasp. “All that f’me, princess?” he hummed, rubbing his chin across the inside of your thigh, just to feel your sensitive and overstimulated body jump beneath his touch. 

Johnny stood then, carrying you to the bathroom and turning on the shower. It was easy to ignore- well, not easy, but he was more than willing to ignore the aching strain in his pants as he guided you through a shower, your sweet, starstruck gaze on his as you kissed the taste of yourself off his tongue. He didn’t care as his clothes got wet, making sure to take his time as he ran the loufa over your body, scrubbing away the sweat and grime of the day before cleaning each part of you more gently and tenderly. Your hair was washed, your scalp massaged as he hummed softly to you, crooning sweet words of praise and pride. “My pretty girl… so perfect f’me… look at you… jus’ look at you… so gorgeous.” 

When the shower ended you were wrapped in a still warm towel and whisked back to the living room, your feet barely touching the ground long enough for you to register it. So this was what it meant to be loved? The words hadn’t been shared between you two, not yet, but it was undeniable now. These acts of service were hardly acts at all, only the truest form of love and devotion as he dressed you just as slowly and tenderly as he’d undressed you. 

“Wait…” you slurred, lashes fluttering as you glanced around. “What’s that…”

A cheeky smile crossed his face as he pulled your nightshirt over your body. “Might’ve called your friend for a bit of help…” he exclaimed, taking you to the kitchen and grabbing two bowls. “Think you can eat fer me? I know it’s hard when yer stressed so… thought I might tempt you.” Johnny laughed.

Bowls of food were brought to the table, and when you hesitated to take a bite, he ran his thumb over the corner of your mouth and lifted the spoon to it, feeding you slowly. “There we go… tha’s a good girl… don’t gotta eat it all, just gotta eat enough for me. I’m here, I’m with you… won’t make you talk about it…” He stated, watching as your eyes watered, overwhelmed by the love and devotion shown to you.

“I love you.” You blurted, the words causing your eyes to widen. Stress had melted away as his hands had earlier explored your body, but now it was back, tension coiling in your chest. “I mean-”

“I love you, too.” Johnny exclaimed softly, a slow smile gracing his face- like the sun cresting the horizon after a rainy night. “I love you. Tha gaol agam ort. You and I… this… it’s everything to me. You’re everything to me, and I wanted to show you, really show you just what you mean to me. Not in grand gestures, but… just like this… I want it to always be like this, or better. I want us to keep working towards better, as long as it’s… together.” He stated, setting down the spoon and pressing your foreheads together. 

Tears fell as the floodgates burst, your head bowed and elbows resting on the table. It had been too much before, your work life, family life, even health feeling like it was all working against you- and in a moment of anger, you’d convinced yourself you were alone.

But how could that have been true when you had the literal sun before you? You understood now, Icarus and Apollo, Achilles and Patroclus, Odysseus and Penelope. The all encompassing love that drove people to war and compassion.

“I love you.” You wept, the words more freeing than you had ever known them to be.

Dishes were forgotten on the table as he swept you into his arms, an increasingly common action as of late and led you back to your bedroom, laying you down upon soft and silken sheets. “I love you, M’eudail… every piece of you that you had long since abandoned, the parts you didn’t think were capable or worthy of being loved, I love all of it, and if you’ll give it to me, I’ll show you… I promise, and promises are meant to be kept.” He whispered, caging your body in with his own as he acted like a weighted blanket pinning you to the bed.

Your chest screamed for air, as laughter bubbled out between your tears, one hand threading into the back of his mohawk, the other rubbing small circles into his back. “How did I get so lucky?” you whispered, the words a betrayal of your mind.

“You didn’t do anything, Mo ghràdh, just by existing you are worthy of love. Worthy of living a life lighter of stress. Just by existing you have earned and deserved kindness… I am sorry that I am the first one to show you that, especially now.” He whispered, the words soft upon your skin.

“I’ll call into work next week…” You whispered, hiccuping softly as his hands slipped beneath your shirt. 

“I didn’t plan to leave you for a moment anyways.” He mused in return. “I love you, M’eudail… my perfect, bonnie love…”

“I love you too, Sunshine. If there’s a place for me in your heart, I’ll stay there forever.”

“I’m counting on it.”

[altocat]

I had a really weird dream last night which was like. Final fantasy 7 except after sephiroth killed the president of shinra and fucked off an empty nester middle aged mom bumped into him and went "you don't have any parents???? Ok come home with me young man" and just sort of forcibly adopted him.

And by the time cloud and co caught up with him he'd completely chilled out and was like "hey man sorry about the everything, i wasn't at my best you know? I didn't have a proper support net so when I crashed and burned i crashed and burned HARD. Anyway my new mom wants to know if you want to come over for a casserole" and then they went to sephiroth's mom's house for a casserole- cloud said nothing the whole time but Barrett was exceedingly polite and kept complimenting the food and also the fact that this lady had been willing to adopt, he was all like "these days there's too many kids without anyone- people like you are what makes the world go round" and Aerith kept talking about how she'd been adopted too. Cloud kept trying to draw his sword and tifa kept taking his hand off of it.

After a while of polite conversation the game faded to black and a popup said "Sephiroth's mom, Sequentia has joined the party!" And weirdly, out of all of this, that was the bit that woke me up because i went "Hold on, Sequentia isn't a real name"

There's no moral or anything to this, I haven't even played the game in months I just had this dream woke up like ???? and went "hey, i know someone who loves hearing about sephiroth getting up to stuff. I should tell them about it before I forget any of the absurd details, they'd get a kick out of this"

LMAO that's what I call a happy ending for Seph.

I mean he still murdered everyone in Nibelheim and is crimes are most definitely still left unanswered but LOOK AT HIM living his best life, making progress thanks to a helping hand 💗💗💗💗

I wish I could have Seph dreams. I never get to have any fun 😭

[star-quill]

the age-gap stories with him r so good…maybe more plz? :)

me when i make this my entire brand fr fr

peter being so into you when he knows he probably shouldn't is just so!!!!! and you think he's hot as fuck, so you desperately try and flirt your way into his bed whenever you see him. but he shoots you down every time, even though he wants you just as badly.

the first time you kiss him, it wasn't even a proper kiss. you're in college, and you're at a house party, a few blocks away from peter's house. he goes over to your house, returning a pyrex dish he got from you when you brought him some casserole from your parents. but they weren't in and neither were you. he asked around, trying to make sure you were ok. then one of your friends told him where you were and he drove straight there, fighting his way through the crowd of people to find you slumped on a sofa in the back garden. he took you home and put you to bed, but you grabbed his shirt and kissed him, whining when he pulled away.

"i can't do this.. we can't do this.."

he made sure you were asleep before he walked next door back to his place. he couldn't sleep that night, the taste of you still lingering on his lips. he grabbed his dick through his sweatpants and groaned, but he couldn't do it. he couldn't do it while thinking of you. it wasn't right.

but then you're laying on your bed the next thursday, your parents hosting a barbecue out in your backyard. you can see him from your window, standing drinking a beer by the pool, talking to some of the other neighbours. you were sat on your window-seat, staring out at him and you waved when he looked up at you. he hasn't seen you since that kiss and he figures now is a good time to talk about it. although he probably shouldn't have, because when he goes inside and comes up to your room, he sees you walking around your room, wearing a skirt that barely covers your ass and a ringer-style crop top.

"hi.."

"yeah.. uhm.. hi.. we need to talk.."

"mmhm?" you hop up on your bed, sitting back on your heels as he comes to stand at the edge of it, facing you. he thinks you look so cute.

"look.. i'm flattered that you're interested in me.. but, we can't do this.. ok?"

"why not?" you pouted then, watching as his jaw clenched. you knew his words were a lie but you thought, the more you act all cute and sweet to him, the easier that he'll break.

"you're way, way too young for me.."

"not that young.. i'm old enough to drink.."

"i just.. i can't.."

"we don't have to tell anyone.."

he paused, his fist clenching by his side. he hadn't even realised he'd stepped closer to your bed, until he felt his knees hit the mattress. then your hands were on his chest as you leant up to him.

"i know you want to fuck me.. my window's open right now, but.. i promise you i'll be quiet.."

"you promise?"

"mmhm.. i promise.."

in the end, you didn't need to promise you'd be quiet. he had you face down against the mattress, your moans and whimpers muffled by your pillow. his hand gripped at your skirt as he bunched it around your waist, pulling you back and forth against him, his eyes staring down, lost in the way your pussy was hugging his dick. if he wasn't hooked on you before, he definitely was now.

[hikikolol]

*cravity as pervs*

ot9

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

♡ park serim

i see this in a setting where you and serim met at the gym

you were having troubles doing weights alone without your best friend there to spot for you, she decided to cancel her gym subscription because she was moving in another part of town and the gym you both went to became too far

serim walked over and told you that he would help you

going behind you, he stared surprised at the view of your ass

serim's the type to feel guilty to be a bit of a perv but he couldn't help it, the sight was delicious

just so happened, a few days later, he was the assistant instructor for your yoga class at the same gym

oh serim had a field day, he stood at the back of the class. where you were

his perfect view

thank fucking god he had cycling tights under his shorts, it helped him hide his hard on a little better but it felt too painful for him

oh what's that? you need help arching your back? he's on it

if only you guys were alone, he'd make your back arch alright

he slowly leaned his body onto your ass as he helped you arch your back and man did that make you wet

♡ ma allen

allen's your best friend

he has always went to your place to wind down but today was different, he decided to invite you to his place today after a movie

giving you a perfect cup of hot choco, you went to cuddle up on him to watch another senseless series

what is that you feel?

oh he has a boner...from you sitting on his lap

looking behind, you see his eyes shut tightly but oh man was he riled up

i see allen as the type to feel really guilty to think about such erotic thoughts about you but he just can't help it when you look like that

the thought of corrupting you runs through his mind 24/7

it's a secret but he leaves his hoodies w you just to take it back unwashed so he can jerk off to your scent

his hands always lingered whenever you hug. specially way lower than your back

seeing you in leggings or skinny jeans riles him on too much

♡ koo jungmo

it's been at least a few months since you've started learning how to play an electric guitar, you were getting to an expert level on it

you have thought of cancelling your lessons but your teacher, jungmo, insisted that there were still things to learn

jungmo on the other hand just can't bear not seeing you all focused in front of him so even if you wanted to cancel on his lessons, he insisted and offered to come over for free instead

i mean, you did find a friend in him

he was always hyperfocused on how you'd lean down to look at the chords and strings of your instrument, leaning down gives him the perfect view of your chest

thank god he has his own guitar to hide his hard on every time he came

his favorite position is when he's behind you, staring right down at your tits whilst he teaches you where your fingers should be placed

his hands lingers a little too long on your thigh whenever he points out something you did wrong

the way he'd use his eyes to fluster you up is... god

when he gets home, he bolts to his bedroom just to think about you, you, and you. your tits, your ass.. fuck that feels good, so good for me

♡ seo woobin

woobin lives right next door to your apartment

the sweet neighbor who never fails to give you food whenever he cooks too much for himself, rather it isn't always an accident, he just wants an excuse to see your face

paying for such cheap rent in the bustling city warrants your walls to be paper thin

woobin knows this, but you don't

the moans you create at night flows through the walls and heightens woobin's libido almost every night when you pleasure yourself

does he feel bad for eavesdropping? yeah, he feels a sense of guilt

but your oh so good moans keeps him alive at the nights when he feels the loneliest

how he wishes it's his name coming out of your mouth

his hands linger a little longer whenever he gives you the casserole of a dish he made

giving you such a sweet smile every time you would walk past him but oh you were so wrong when this man is full of sweetness

honestly, he just wants to bend you in so many different ways until you could only scream out his name

♡ ham wonjin

working with wonjin at a local cafe was the most fun you've had in a job

he'd be very attentive whenever you would need help with anything

your work uniform though, consists of a loose beige colored shorts, paired with a white buttoned up shirt, all tied up with a slightly darker beige apron. it was a themed cafe, you were working with handheld animals whilst making the drinks

the shorts of your uniform was a great fit on you and wonjin would 100% agree

the amount of times he has thought about fucking you in the backroom...

your sweet smile that flusters him up in an instant

boners behind his apron every time you would lean down to pick something up

the way you would lean on the counter on your breaks, the perfect view for your ass to be out oh how easy would it be to fuck you right then and there, grinding on your ass

your shorts riding up whenever you would sit cross-legged on the backroom's floor eating your lunch

he'd be giving you the most dangerous stares unbeknownst to you

♡ kang minhee

your brother's sweet and kind best friend

or so you thought

minhee has been visiting your house for more than he visited his own

spending time with your brother is minhee's favorite hobby, mostly because he knows he'll get glimpses of you when he's there

you never kept your door fully closed, the noise of the house brings you comfort to know that you aren't alone

minhee knows this and fully takes advantage of it

when everyone is asleep, except for you

he'd sneak out of your brother's room just to take a peek into your room

laying on your stomach, ass perfectly in view for minhee whilst you watch on your laptop

you never liked wearing shorts when you're about to sleep so minhee has always had a field day at this time of night

wearing only underwear and an old tight crop top, this was such a great view for him and he'd thank god for giving this to him on a dailt basis

the amount of times he had to stop himself from going in your room to fuck you was immense

staring at you for straight 15 minutes, he had to get out of there and continue on to the bathroom for a quick session

♡ song hyeongjun

never did you think that your oh so innocent classmate could think of such carnal desire on your body and soul

hyeongjun just wants you

he wants you to ride him

he wants you to take all his pride away, strip him bare and let you use him

he wants everything you have to offer and he'd never shy away on any command you give him, just say. one. word. and he'll be on his knees ready to pleasure you

people were intimidated by you, you have a resting bitch face and no one would dare come close

except for the sweet angel that graces you with his everyday good morning smile and wave

you thought nothing of it, you do it back, but you just go back to your comfort resting face after

but hyeongjun lives for it, one smile and he's done

thinking of ways you'd have him under your hold

his hair bunched up in your hands as he oh so deliciously eat you out

your moans as he does his best to behave under you

oh lord what have you done

♡ kim taeyoung

you have always been on taeyoung's best interests

i mean, you've been his crush for the longest time

but recently, his mind wanders way too far

what would you look like when your body is sprawled all over his bed? breathing hard when he hits that certain spot

how would it feel inside of you? your mouth?

would you let him use you whenever he wants? would you have a high sex drive?

thoughts pondered on taeyoung's mind as he glances at your way, sitting beside him during a lecture

your skirt riding a little higher than you'd like but never noticed through the shaking of your legs

oh how nice would it be to just push that skirt a little higher to put his hand in-

"you good?" taeyoung's eyes shot up, giving you a nod saying that he was dazing off

how long could he still last without touching you intimately, he's losing his mind

maybe he should invite you over to watch some movies, maybe move from there, yeah

♡ ahn seongmin

the sweet sweet junior from your course

he gives you sweets every morning, saying it would energize you from the boring lectures

the sweet junior who chases you after class just to bid you a safe trip home and a good night ahead

the sweet junior who would sneak little notes in your bag without you noticing

the sweet junior who, behind those sweet sweet eyes, lies lustful ones

eyes that dreams of your twisted face of pleasure when he gets the chance to finally have you

the chance when you, completely mark him as your own

he wants that, he's dying for it

he wants you to let him feel all the pleasure in the world and he knows you can. with just one touch, he'll be gone

he wants the feeling to be edged by you, he wants to know how it feels to be led

the feeling where his world is gonna crumble down and all he needs is to scream out your name as he releases all his pent up juices when you finally let him

oh fuck he accidentaly whimpered whilst he gave you the deliciously wrapped candy

[goodgaymckay]

I'm adding onto the therapy snuggle thing I wrote. I think Jerry sees Scott reacting to touch like that and wants to see if other senses can get Scott like that too. So he gives Scott therapy homework (which he whines about) to make a childhood meal in order to engage his senses. "Like something his mom used to make" (cause Jerry's mom was very much the house cook/baker)

Unfortunately, Jerry doesn't know yet that Scott's parents rarely cooked. They were so busy with work and family and other fun adult personal events that they usually got home late with fast food (this made Scott a picky eater). Sometimes they'd stay out until after midnight so he and his sister work fend for themselves (she'd make kraft dinner while he complained, when they ran out of kraft dinner, they'd fight over shitty frozen kids meals, Scott always lost those).

But He does have 1 memory of his mom's tuna beef casserole!! After somehow acquiring all of the ingredients (he thinks) he calls up Jerry to he'll him the good news : he has everything and has no idea how to assemble it! Jerry appears in front of his door to help him, and his very eager to help him until he sees the ingredients on the table.. he asks Scott to walk him through what he remembers in order to make this ...

1) 2 cans of tuna (undrained) into a casserole dish (we'll need the tuna water to help cook the pasta)

2) discounted and slightly discolored raw ground beef (the amount doesn't matter)

3) Raw penne pasta (or any pasta, who gives a fuck, his mom didn't)

3)little club soda or sprite

4) lemon juice (depends on how bad the hangover is)

5) two spoonfuls of mayo

6) block on cheese (any kind, placed in the enter of the dish)

7) bake for 15-45 minutes

8) eat in bowl with white bread and a coke or other soda/liquid

(Optional: sprinkle more cheese on top)

His mom made it for them as a pre hangover cure for herself at 7pm-5am, Jerry wishes he knew that earlier so he could have drove over drunk for accuracy. They settle on acting drunk together instead (which makes Scott feel more adult too! In an "I'm playing an adult!" Kinda way". Scott decides to cuddle up to jerry while he's munching on some childhood "late night delight!", Jerry politely refused to eat it because it smells like shit and is "generally unappetizing, like barely edible, why did she feed this to you?"

Scott (totally acting shitfaced, making hand gestures, nuzzling into Jerry) starts telling about the time she surprised them with it at 4 am on Christmas break with marshmallows on top after both parents got wasted on eggnog (dads a lightweight, Scott inherited thus trait).

And Jerry's like nodding along like "wow, that sounds horrible! If you where my kid-" and then Jerry starts listening nice stuff he'd do for Scott (in a non-weird way).. Jerry's not weird talking to his younger friend/client this way. The way his eyes light up when he tells him he'd let him pick up any game he wanted from the store is clearly healing Scott's inner child or something. He does have nice eyes, tho, very round. Meanwhile Scotts getting super flustered about this the whole time, he doesn't know why, maybe he just likes the thought of being taken care of, not like he deserves it, he's doing fine, his face is heating up, his stomach is fluttering, and he's vomiting on the floor again.

He starts to remember all the times he got in trouble for doing the same thing when he was younger. He never liked this, but making it with his mom (watching her toss shit in a casserole dish while he rambled about ramdom stuff) , who was interacting with him, was nice for once. His face is all red as he ugly crys about it.

Jerry drags him to the bathroom, Scott's surprised when he starts soothing him instead of yelling at him for the mess he's made. Jerry let's Scott's rest his head on his (Jerry's) knees while he brushes figures through his hair and makes little shhh-ing noises. Scott's in heaven.

Jerry gets him all cleaned up (and the mess down the hall) and helps him to bed. He even Tucks Scott in and in a baffling act of feelings Scott can't describe/fully understand says to Jerry "what, no Goodnight kiss?" So Jerry gives it to him on the forehead. Scott let's out a little happy noise, which makes Jerry laugh. He starts giving Scott more, on his forehead, then his checks, jaw, and finally (in a moment of weird sexual tension) his mouth.

They make out sloppy style until Scott begs Jerry to "Ravish his (virgin) body" which he does. (Scott gets to grind up into Jerrys clothed knee 3 times until he comes). Jerry ends up jacking it in front/on top of Scott. Scott takes a little taste later and notes the salty taste.

The two have been head over heels for each other ever since that night!

(I wanna turn this into a fic called bedtime or midnight snack or something)

giving Scott a sister is wild little man is an only child. He was so lonely bro he didn’t even have a sibling to whine at.

but my god I love them. I love the care Jerry has for Scott. I like Scott cumming after grinding on him a tiny bit.

[spidori]

WAIT! WaitWaitWaitWaitWait!

It's a cult based around protecting children? Like specifically children? And has iconography which can be recognized as Batman or Bruce but only if you're really looking for it, and possibly a genius like Tim? Am I getting that right?

Because if I am, you know who is definitely a card-carrying member of said cult? Red Hood. Because you cannot tell me with a straight face that the vigilante who rolled into crime Alley and managed to make kids off limits wouldn't be the type of person this group would want to at least reach out to.

And sure, Hood would absolutely do his due diligence, dig through any information his contacts can get a hold of, and try to find the catch. But after a couple of months go by and he's only found evidence that these people are actually helping from the shadows, maybe he starts considering actually meeting them.

He probably won't join or anything, but it never hurts to have more contacts. And hey if these guys are even half as legit as they seem, then they're all gonna be on the same side most of the time whether he's part of their club or not.

But then he goes to a meeting as a possible recruit. (Just to be clear, this is all happening years before Batman gets lost in the time stream, I'm imagining early Hood, like before he's even made it onto the Bat's radar as more than another new wannabe local crime boss). Hood expects, ya know, a cult, because that's how it was described to him. Robes. Flickering candles. Arcane rituals and prayers.

He gets the robes, with every single person present dressed seemingly at random in solid black, white, or grey. And kinda the candles, but they were only there to provide light since the abandoned warehouse didn't have power, so he doesn't really feel like it counts. Then, after a short prayer of "may the light be strong enough to reach through the walls abusers hide behind, the shadow deep enough to hide those they would abuse, and may the place they meet be the threshold to escape and safety," the whole meeting seems to become a mix of mutual aid and grief support group.

People break out into packs, some even pulling casserole dishes and baked goods out from under their robes. Jason is only a little disappointed to realize that the food is a lot more prevalent in the couple of groups talking about grieving (with a lot more of the grey robes, he notes) than in the mutual support planning he'd been led over to.

He can't really be mad though. It's not like he'd be able to eat anything with his helmet on anyway.

More importantly, by the end of the cult meeting he was thoroughly impressed by the group. The group passed the tests and checks Jason had drilled into his memory in his training before. They were still a cult in the classic sense of worshipping some secret gods, having a couple of strange rituals, and the secrecy. But Jason can definitely see some ways he could work with them.

So he goes to a few more meetings. He learns a lot from them about setting up a robust mutual aid organization, and applies a lot of it to his growing gang; they both have to deal with the powers that be trying to break them up the same way, so a lot of the same things apply. Eventually he trusts the cult members enough to call them when one of his raids on a rival gang leads to him busting into a room full of child slaves while checking the basement for any remaining members of the gang.

It's that call, more than anything else, which leads to him being offered initiation into the rights of the cult.

And fuck, but he kinda wants to join.

They're good folk! Mostly Crime Alley natives too; Jason can tell, even without his training from before, Crime Alley natives know their own. He can trust these people. So fuck it, why not?

The initiation itself is pretty basic. There's a ceremonial swearing of oaths. To protect the vulnerable, especially children. To never intentionally put them in harms way. To call out or punish those who do. Really it's what Jason aims to do as Red Hood already.

Then comes a blood oath, with each member adding a small amount of blood to a bowl on the altar beneath the print of a tapestry said to depict their Light and Shadow (who reminded Jason ironically of the Bat, given how said Bat went against the cult's teachings with his Robins, but c'est la vis). They even sterilized the knife between each member, Jason was impressed! The glow effect when he added his own blood to the bowl last as the new initiate was a bit cheesy, but he could see how it would leave an impact on the type of person who hadn't seen a Lazarus Pit, aka most even semi normal folk.

After the ceremony, it's business as usual for the rest of the meeting. Or it was until the door slammed open to reveal another cult member, this one in a mostly black robe, but with a white star on the point of their hood.

It only takes him a few seconds to guess that the special robe meant someone important. All the other cult members bowing, curtsying, or kneeling was a good clue. Something in him kept him standing rigid though, and not out of any pride or issue with bowing to someone.

No.

Jason was all too familiar with this tensing and stiffening of his muscles. With the cold sweat and taste of dirt and coffin wood heavy on his tongue. With the way his lungs felt like they couldn't get enough air. Some part of him was terrified, verging on triggering an all out panic attack, at the mere presence of this stranger walking through the door and up to him.

Then, as suddenly as the terror welled up, it just as quickly dissipated as the figure's slender hand moved from his chest to his arm and she(?) began to bodily drag him out of the room.

"Sorry for scaring you" she said, and it was definitely either a she or at least someone partially female presenting judging by the voice, as soon as she'd pulled him into a private room. "I thought you might be trying to steal my group for your own. Although I don't think I could even be that mad if you had been, it looks like you haven't had a proper meal in ages!"

Ok... That last part felt out of place. "What, did you think I was going to try to drink the blood after the ritual?"

"Hah! Good one, but it's obvious you're not that type of dead" She said. "Trust me, I know vampires, and wannabe vampires, and you're clearly not either of those" she continued seemingly uncaring about the gun Jason had pointed at her head.

"Want to unpack what you mean by calling me dead before I take it the obvious way, as a threat to make me dead, and make you dead first?"

"Hey! Chill! Chill! I know you're probably really hangry, but c'mon dude! I'm just saying that you've died."

The FUCK!?!? "Who are you and how did you know that?!"

"My name is Elle." The woman said, pulling down her hood to reveal the face of a young woman with white hair with a black streak, mirroring Jason's own under his helmet. "And dead recognizes dead dude. Plus, you triggered one of the safety measures I set up to warn me about potential threats trying to sneak in when you put your Ecto into the bowl. Didn't you notice it glow?"

"Ecto?"

"The green stuff that runs through your veins? The stuff pretty much every single ghost or undead except vampires- which we've already established you're not- and some extremely rare exceptions called halfas have?"

"Hate to disappoint such a pretty girl, especially after I just joined your cult, but I have normal, red, blood, see?" Jason said, holding up his palm to show the cut scabbing over there.

He wasn't sure what he expected the woman's- Elle's, he supposes- response to be, he sure hadn't been able to predict a single turn of this conversation so far, but even then her suddenly vibrating with excitement was enough to throw him even more off balance. So off balance that he just stared as she pulled out a positively ancient flip phone, dialed a number, and, as soon as the other end picked up, full force yelled into the receiver "New Halfa just dropped, cuz! And he's cute too! Get your ass over here! And bring some Ecto! The guy feels like if he tried to survive on nothing but ambient since his death."

And I'm going to stop here. Mostly because I have an early morning and long day of travel tomorrow. I have more ideas, but anyone is absolutely welcome to run with this if it sparks anything in your brain. I absolutely love bouncing ideas back and forth and continuing to build.

Prompt 171

Danny would like everyone to know it was a complete accident. Look, normally he was really good at not altering the timeline! He was! 

But the dude was definitely not in the right Time, and he had to get his trust which took so long, like damn he thought he had anxiety. Seriously though, kevlar in the 1700s? Yeah that wasn’t right, and Peepaw always complained about the messes that the speedsters caused, so he was trying to prevent a mess by tugging the dude away and helping him out. 

Falling in love maybe a little, was not in the plan. But honestly the man had a worse sense of self preservation than he did as a teen and was also straight up adorable, in a wet cat  who could kill you sort of way. 

So maybe he helped the dude grab a child that was going to be drowned. It wasn’t like anyone else saw them! Even if similar situations might’ve happened a few different times. 

Still, no one saw them! 

So why is there now a small cult who worships the Shadowed one and Radiant one, aka his companion (who would not give his name save for B, which, fair, probably didn’t want to accidentally wreck the timeline either) and well, him?! At least they worship them as guardians of children, but uh. Should he maybe, perhaps, fix this…? 

[mallowflowers]

i'm mistaking you for someone else

2017 03 xx

Dear Ted, What has happened to us? I don't know. I feel myself in a spiral, going down down down, into a black hole from which there is no escape, no brightness. And loud in my ears from every side I hear, 'failure, failure, failure...'

I love you so much ... I am too old and enmeshed in everything you do and are, that I cannot conceive of life without you ... My going will leave quite a rumor but you can say I was overworked and overwrought. Your reputation with your friends and fans will not be harmed ... Sometimes think of the fun we had all thru the years ...

Someday, someone you love will die, and everything else will seem totally irrelevant. Let’s just hope they won’t die alone (someone watched them die).

My grandmother killed herself for reasons we can only speculate about, but the fucked up thing is she hated my mom and on the day she shot herself, she called my mom and told her to come over because she baked some casserole or whatever and wanted my mom to have a taste. Her note told us she really just hated my mom and wanted her to find the body.

...Later, the man wakes up from the voices in his head. Finds himself beaten up. A voice, a violent voice, is louder inside the part of him that people likes more. Another voice, tells the man’s friend to keep the man in check (i.e. beat him up) every time he feels like killing himself. It works every time. The man falls asleep...

His aftershave, the way he'd rub his left foot against his right calf when he was falling asleep, the way he'd whistle off-key or hum a song when he got up before me, the way he'd say my name when he was exasperated with me.

A thousand little trivial things that you miss when the one you love isn't here anymore.

I’m sorry my mom hates you . I still love you .

---

[mashkaroom]

americans will be like “wow in eastern europe they tell kids that an evil witch will EAT them if they misbehave that’s SO fucked up” as if any kid over age 2.5 believes that this could be a real threat, meanwhile every catholic ever will be like “my parents told me that god hated me and was disappointed in me, and i believed them, so every night age 4-8 i prayed to god to smite me down” sir it is THAT which is fucked up, baba yaga is not out here dealing lifelong psychic damage, my god!

[mosylufanfic]

I have a rebelcaptain prompt for you (i was thinking modern au, but whatever catches your fancy:

Cassian is planning on proposing, and he’s getting a bunch of tips from all kinds of people. Most people say to get her a ring, preferably with diamonds, either one big ass one or several, but he knows that’s not right for her. He ends up finding something that most people wouldn’t think of as “appropriate” (for example a knife of a type of less valuable mineral.

The moment I read this prompt, I remembered my Valentine's story from a few years ago. So this is a sequel.

Send me a prompt for NaNo!

It's About the Bling

Cassian swiped through the website, frowning to himself.

"What are you looking at?"

He jumped and scrambled to switch off his phone. "Nothing."

His friend narrowed his eyes, setting their coffees down on the table between them. "That is impossible. You were looking at something." He narrowed his eyes further. "Something that you don't want me to know about. Is this a - " He looked disdainful. "A surprise for me?"

"I know better," Cassian said. Kay didn't take well to surprises or big changes. Or unexpected news. Or mild inconveniences. "It has nothing to do with you."

"That's exactly the subterfuge you would undertake if you were planning a surprise."

He grimaced. He'd probably better come clean right now or Kay might never speak to him again when he did find out. "Okay," he sighed, holding the phone out. "This is what I was looking at."

Kay surveyed the screen. "You don't wear jewelry," he said. "Especially not rings. And these look very expensive. Why were you looking at them?"

"Really?" Cassian said.

"Yes, really, why were you looking at them?"

"Kay," he said. "Kay, I'm, uh, I'm planning to propose. To Jyn," he added, as if Kay might think he wanted to marry anybody other than his adored girlfriend of three years, who lived with him, and who had a semi-serious ongoing war with Kay. 

Kay was silent for several seconds, then handed his phone back. "Today was going so well."

-

Kes was much more excited for him. "That's amazing, man! It's about time!" He pounded him on the back. "Wait til I tell Shara! Oh, should I keep this a secret?"

"Why?"

"Well, Shara and Jyn go to the same kickboxing class. But she can keep her lips zipped if she has to."

"What, you think Jyn doesn't know?"

"Um?" Kes scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah?"

"We've talked about it," Cassian said. "I wasn't even sure she was up for marriage. But she says as long as it's to me, she's in."

Kes looked disappointed. "So you basically already proposed."

"Not really. I mean, it's not official."

"Man, you really have no idea about romance."

"Just because I'm not booking a mariachi band and a glitter cannon for my proposal."

"Took me days to get that shit out of my hair," Kes said cheerfully. "But she was surprised."

"Glitter cannons aren't really Jyn," Cassian said. He wasn't a hundred percent sure it was Shara, either, but whatever, she'd married Kes. Clearly it had worked. 

"Please tell me you're at least getting her a decent ring."

"Well, I'm trying."

-

"Mmm," Bodhi said. "Hmmm. Hunh."

Jyn put one of his couch pillows over her face. "They're all glittery," she said.

"I mean," he said. "They're nice." He was scrolling through the email that Cassian had sent to Jyn, with different rings he'd found. 

"I don't do glittery!"

"I know you don't, but this is going to be your engagement ring."

"Right. That I've got to wear. All day."

"Your entire life," Bodhi said.

"Fuck," Jyn said.

 "Hey." He tossed her phone aside. "You okay about this? You never really wanted to get married."

"I know, but it's Cassian. It wouldn't be like being married. It'd just be us. Together. You know?"

"Yeah, that's what being married is," Bodhi said. "Just you, together. With a whole legal component."

"No, I mean, I never wanted to be someone's little wifey, making casseroles and shit. How's your day, here's your slippers and your newspaper. A house in the burbs. White picket fence. A dog and two-point-five kids."

"I think you've watched way too many old sitcoms," Bodhi said. "You know it's not 1956, right?"

"Right, yeah, I know, but my point is, Cassian wouldn't want that anyway. So I'm not, uh, like  - "

"Scared?" Bodhi suggested.

She bared her teeth at him, which was how he knew he was right. "I want to be married to him," she said, picking up the phone and looking at the screenful of glitter and bling with a resigned expression. "I just have to get through all the wedding shit first."

-

"Did you get my email?" Cassian asked that night as they were putting dinner together.

"Yeah," she said, focusing hard on the carrots that she was slicing into perfect round coins. 

He was teaching her how to cook, because the last time it had been her turn to cook at the firehouse, all the others on shift had dialed out for pizza without even letting her try. Which was a little insulting. But maybe what she deserved, considering she'd had to take a fire extinguisher to her last attempt at dinner, and she was still weathering the teasing from that. 

"And," he prompted. "What did you think?"

Jyn swerved her thoughts from finding fire extinguishers in her locker to the ring pictures Cassian had sent her. "I - they, uh - "

He switched off the burner under the sauce and turned to her. "Jyn."

Faced with his stupid big brown eyes, she folded. "I hated them," she groaned. "I'm sorry. I know you must have spent hours picking those out. But they're just - they weren't - "

"You," he said. "They weren't you."

"No."

He rubbed his hand over his face. "I knew that," he admitted. "But Kes was all like, you need a rock, you need bling, she's gonna want to show it off."

"A rock would cut my gloves up," she said. "Although, you know Cinta? The one in my EMT classes? She puts her engagement ring on a chain. So that's not completely a no-go."

"Do you really want a rock?"

"No," she said. "Not those. And they were so expensive. We can't afford that."

"Well, those places are set up with payment plans," he said. 

"Great. So you can still be paying off my engagement ring when we're eighty and feeding each other applesauce."

He kissed her forehead. "You'll be very sexy eating applesauce." 

"Perv." She flipped him off and went back to slicing carrots. "Just find me something simple. That's all. And less blingy. And not that expensive."

"So, something small and cheap," he mused. "Where's the nearest gumball machine?"

She threw a carrot at him.

-

He was still teasing her about it when they visited the sweets shop on the corner, their next mutual day off. "Look," he said, fishing around the bin of Ring Pops that Chirrut insisted on having for the children. "Green or purple?"

Baze looked disgusted. "Since when do you eat solidified corn syrup?"

"Since always, but not here. He's making fun of me." She leaned on the counter, squinting at his hand. "Here, Baze, lemme see your ring."

He held out his hand. It was a simple platinum ring without outward decoration, but she knew from listening to Chirrut tell the story that it had the date they'd met carved on the inside. It was thick and plain and secretly sentimental, just like Baze. "Why the sudden interest?" he asked.

"Oh, well, uh - " She shrugged. "You know. We're planning on it." She hooked her thumb over her shoulder. "Me and this idiot here."

He smiled, slow and quiet, and covered her hand with his. "Congratulations. I'm happy for you. Both of you," he added as Cassian came up, looping his arm around her from behind.

"Thank you," he said, kissing Jyn's cheek. 

She blinked against sudden tears. "Thanks. Um. What'd you do? You and Chirrut."

"For this? Ordered it."

"No, did you have an engagement ring or something?" How did that work? 

"We got married as soon as we could. We knew we belonged to each other. Who else matters?"

-

The thing was, Jyn did want something to mark her engagement. Maybe for Chirrut and Baze, just knowing had been fine. But she wanted something she could look at and touch and think, yeah, he gave that to me and I'm his and he's mine. 

But nothing they looked at seemed to fit. 

Solitaires and channel set and plain. Diamonds and emeralds and rubies. Nothing looked like anything she could wear for a lifetime. And so fucking expensive. Even when they looked for rings that didn't have anything to do with weddings or engagements, it all seemed marked up to the moon. 

"There's a gem and mineral show coming to town," Cassian suggested after one particularly tense browsing session. "Why don't we just go look?"

"You know what happened at the jewelry store," she muttered. They'd been asked, nicely but very firmly, never to come back. Fine by her. 

"I've worked security for the show before," Cassian said. "Nobody's on commission and it's a lot cheaper. Come on. We don't have to pick anything. Just look at things and figure out if anything looks even close to what you want."

"Fine," she sighed.

-

Parking at the convention center was a nightmare, and Jyn was ready to commit homicide by the time she walked in. But it definitely wasn't the jewelry store, with its bright lights and rows of glass cases, and the salesgirls with shiny white teeth and too much perfume not-very-subtly suggesting that carat size equated to how much Cassian loved her. 

This was more like a bazaar, crammed with people, booth after booth with something different everywhere you looked. Strands of beads and costume jewelry and giant hunks of rocks and rock-hound supplies and - 

"Meteorites," she breathed, stopping dead at a booth. "Really meteorites?"

"Got 'em on the Aldhani Plain in Antarctica. A lot of meteorites are harvested there because - "

"You can see them on the snow," she finished, reaching for one. 

"That one'll run you about three hundred dollars."

She curled her fingers into her palm again. "Shit, that's a lot."

"For that size and quality? I could get twice that online, but it's a special show price. We've got some smaller ones over here."

She hovered over the display, looking at meteorites that looked almost lacy, and others melted to smoothness by the heat of them screaming through the atmosphere, and others with blobs of different minerals polka-dotting their surface. 

"Hey," Cassian said. 

She didn't ask how he'd found her. He always seemed to find her. "Look at this," she said gleefully. "It came from fucking outer space. Cruised the solar system and then burned through the atmosphere. Millions of miles of stardust before it landed here for a bunch of apes in clothes to gawk at it."

"That's really cool," he said. 

"Look, this one's magnetic."

He smiled at her, then caught the booth owner's eye. "You got any jewelry?" 

She looked up. He mouthed, Just look, at her. 

"Sure," said the booth owner. "Pendants? Rings?"

"Rings."

He pulled out a tray. They were closer to what Jyn wanted. Simple, not expensive. Nothing that jumped up and down yelling her name, but closer. "Some nice ones here. What's your ring size?" he asked Cassian.

"Not me," he said. "Her."

"Oh, well, here's the ones for ladies." The owner pulled out another tray, this one with a locking glass lid. These rings were smaller, but considerably blingier, diamonds and colored stones glittering with blackish-grey meteorite accents set in the bands. 

"Oh," Jyn said. "Uh. Not those." She smiled tightly.

"We've got some simpler designs up on this row - "

She barely glanced at them. "Nah. I'm good."

"I could do a commission - "

"Let's go." She grabbed Cassian's hand. 

"Hey," he said when they were a few steps away. "Wait a minute."

"Sorry," she said, looking at his shirtfront. 

He pushed her hair out of her eyes. "You liked those meteorites. I thought - "

She shook her head. "They weren't right. Nothing's right."

He paused for a long moment. The babble of the gem show filled her ears. "Do you even want a ring?"

Her eyes shot to his. "You know I want to marry you." Did he think she was chickening out? Trying to softball her way out of forever with him?

"And I want to marry you," he said, intensely patient. Fuck, she didn't deserve this man. "Does it have to be a ring for our engagement? Can it be something else?"

She blinked at him. Rings equaled engagement. Everyone knew that. What else could - "Like what?"

He wove his fingers through hers. "Let's go look."

-

"Well," Kay said in the tones of a man who'd been carefully coached and possibly threatened. "It is unique."

"Yup," Jyn said happily, letting the pendant on its silver chain drop back to her chest. They'd decided to throw a barbeque as an engagement party and their tiny backyard was crammed with what felt like everyone they knew. 

"I mean," Bodhi said, intensely fair, "a meteorite necklace. It's really you, Jyn."

"Pallasite," she said. "Came screaming through the atmosphere, and it melted and reformed into a bunch of olivine crystals embedded in solid metal. Cassian, show them yours."

He fished his pendant out of his shirt. It was slightly bigger, and a different shape. But it matched Jyn's. 

"So you," Kes said. "You both bought an engagement . . . pendant? For yourselves?"

"I bought hers and she bought mine," Cassian said. "And we've asked the guy to make the wedding rings. Gold with embedded meteorite."

"And you proposed right there. In front of the meteorites."

"People clapped," Jyn said. "There's a video somewhere online."

"I don't get you."

"What's not to get?" his wife asked him. "You got me bling because I love bling." She fluttered her fingers at him and her engagement ring glittered. "Jyn and Cassian are like the definition of alternative."

"I've just never heard of a guy wearing an engagement necklace, that's all."

Chirrut said, "Baze, remember our old friends Rex and Cody? They did that, to mark their union."

Baze said. "1973. Matching pendants with silver and sapphires. Nothing new under the sun, younglings."

"I guess," Kes said. "But - "

"Why should she get all the jewelry?" Cassian said. "Besides, when the light hits it just right - " He held up his pendent to the light and twisted it a few times to different angles.  "Ah." He smiled. "It looks like her eyes."

"Sap," Jyn said, and kissed him. 

FINIS

[nano-cache]

"It's...uh..." But Nano honestly wasn't sure. "You just like...put shit in a baking dish, really. Pretty sure it's to make things stretch a little further. Canned veggies, mostly. Maybe some chicken, if you can get it. But they also make dessert casseroles, so--" Nano was wracking his mind trying to decipher what it was like to be dolled out a steaming pile of gruel. He'd never really considered how it was made or what it contained before. "I think you put some sort of soup in it? Or like...fuck, I don't know." Three wasn't exactly a culinary oasis, but he did like kringle. He looked blankly at Alder, not really registering. "Must be from Seven?" It sounded like it, like a snack Alder would munch on from ten feet up in a tree or something. "Alright, well, order up. Let's try some."

"What the fuck is a casserole?" he asked, mystified. If he'd heard it in any other context, he'd have sworn it must be a type of hat worn by Capitolites that had gone out of fashion or something.

Alder blinked, then continued to explain kettle corn, which sounded way off from what Nano was picturing, if he had to venture a guess. "No, it's-- it's popcorn. But sweet and salty. Like a dessert."

[bayisdying]

Lucky Penny - Chapter Thirteen

A/N okay I lied. Angst is still here with us babes. 🤷‍♀️ my fucking bad.

A week after she woke up, Lucky was medically cleared to head home on the condition that someone was home with her all around the clock.

That would be no problem with everyone rallied around her. Her mom and Dulce had gotten a hotel room nearby, and it's not like base was very far from the cottage either.

----

A burden.

That's how everyone had described it when William started dating a woman with a child. A burden he didn't need in his life.

Sometimes she felt like those people were right, he had totally changed his life practically overnight to be a father figure to a child that wasnt his own. He never complained out loud, but sometimes she wondered if he hated her. If he wished she wasn't there at all, that Delilah hadn't come with baggage in the shape of a child.

Had he hated her all those years?

-----

Nobody was letting her do a damn thing herself. She couldn't even walk to the bathroom without someone following her in case she fainted. She knew they meant well, but it was starting to really irritate her.

She couldn't remember the last time her mother even babied her like this, probably before William had died. The woman was cooking up a storm using the cottages small kitchen to her full advantage. Soups, casseroles, baked goods, it didn't matter what it was Delilah was cooking. Then she'd practically force the food down her daughter's throat. Hoping that the homemade meals would help her feel better.

And as much as I loved her mother's cooking, she was starting to resent it. All she wanted was a burger and fries from the Hard Deck. She stopped eating most of what her mother brought to her. She hid just enough to fool the older woman, then threw it away later.

If her mother knew about it, she never said a word.

-----

A burden.

That's what her biological father had thought of her, why he left before her first birthday. He had tried for the first ten months,but he was young and wasn't ready to be weighed down by a child.

Lucky never met the man, but once she got curious and looked him up on social media. He'd been married to some woman for fifteen years and they had four kids. Four half-siblings who probably had no idea they had an older sister.

She had cried herself to sleep that night.

They weren't burdens, so why was she?

-----

She knew he was trying his best, but Fanboy was the worst offender of not letting her be independent. Anything she needed? He grabbed it. She mentioned being uncomfortable? Here comes Mickey with another pillow and blanket.

She stopped saying it out loud, because she didn't want him to think she couldn't do things.

"Cariño, are you okay?" He had asked one night and Lucky couldnt decide to laugh or cry.

"I'm okay babe."

"Are you sure? You've been a little distant recently. I just want to make sure you're okay."

She shrugged "I'm just fine Mickey, but I have a headache so I'm going to take one of those migraine meds and go to bed."

He watched as she walked away, he had no idea how to help her get through this funk, but he wasn't going to give up on her.

-----

A burden.

Wasn't that why her and Mickey had snuck around for years? They didn't want their relationship to sabotage their Naval careers. For it to be used against them. Hadn't that made her a burden to him for all these years?

Maybe he still felt that way about her sometimes, a dirty little secret who could ruin his life.

-----

Even Hangman was getting on her nerves, and not like he usually did. He'd come in and sit on the bed and just talk for HOURS. Lucky swear she's learned more about Jake Seresin than she ever wanted to know.

She was happy they had become closer, but this was too much. She knew about his first girlfriend, that he went as a cowboy for three Halloweens in a row, and far too many more facts.

She stopped listening, stopped giving her input. She simply rolled to face away from him and if he didn't notice her indifference that was on him.

-----

A burden.

She often wonders if Katie and her would still be friends or if Katie would have finally wisened up and dumped her troublemaker best friend.

Katie had been patient and kind, able to get Baylie out of whatever shenanigans she could get into.

Perhaps the burden of being the perfect friend had made Katie want to die so badly.

If only Baylie could have been a better friend, maybe the world would still have Katie.

-----

Coyote felt guilty, he was the reason Lucky had turned back in the first place. The reason her jet had exploded, and the reason she had nearly died out there.

He brought her little trinkets, knowing damn well her mother was making her enough food to feed the small army of Daggers.

He apologized profusely, despite her placating him by saying she didn't have regrets.

He didn't get it.

She didn't need any fucking reminders of her condition, of what had caused it. She wanted to move past it, but everyone kept holding her back.

One night it all came to a head, most of the group was in the living room. Lucky walked out and immediately Delilah, Mickey, Jake, and Javy all jumped up to help her to the couch. She brushed them all off and bypassed the couch entirely and went into the kitchen to grab her Ben & Jerry's from the freezer but her hands fumbled and she dropped it on the floor.

They all fussed over her, and then Coyote finally said the straw that broke her.

"I'm so sorry Lucky."

"Stop fucking apologizing Javy." She snapped. The most words they had heard her say in days, they all just stared. "In fact all of you just fucking stop. I don't need to be babied."

Then the flood gates fully opened.

"Mom, I love you but you don't have to cook all the time. I haven't even been eating lately and you haven't even noticed. So much for caring for your kid."

She pointed at Mickey "and you, I love how much you care about me but for fuck sake I can get things for myself. I'm just on neurological watch I'm not a fucking invalid."

"Jake." The blonde opened his mouth then decided against it. "I can't listen to another one of your stupid fucking stories. I don't care that Amanda broke your heart in third grade when she kissed Logan right in front of you. Or that you had zero creativity as a child and had to re-use Halloween costumes."

"And you Javy "I can't stop apologizing" Machado. If I hear the word sorry out of your mouth one more time I will punch your lights out. I don't give a fuck that you're sorry. I would have done it for anyone on that mission. You aren't fucking special."

A beat of silence then

"I'm going back to bed, and I don't want to see any of you anytime soon. I will text Nix or Bob if I need anything."

She stomped her way down the hallway completely abandoning the ice cream and leaving the people who cared the most about her in the dust. The slam of the bedroom door shook all the walls in the cottage.

Baylie "Lucky" Steele sure as fuck felt like a burden as she slid down the door and sobbed.

Maybe she always had been a damn burden.

-----

A/N: WHEEEEEEE THE ANGST RIDE IS STILL GOING ON.

[myvirtuesuncounted]

Heyyyyy it's the insane anon with the mental dog and the microplastics back at it again with more batshit stories :D I remember when I was really little my dad used to ask me what band I wanted on the CD player as we drove to preschool, and because I'm like 4 and have had no exposure to music genres outside of the country hillbilly music I was tortured with in my early days by my bogan Australian parents, not to mention my walnut sized brain doesn't have the capacity to remember band names, I just said the first thing that came to mind that sounded vaguely like a band and that band was Tom Petty and the heartbreakers. So he'd play me Tom Petty every day without fail. Driving to school, driving home from school, I was meticulously tortured with his music. And because I was a fucking idiot when I was 4 years old (still am now but y'know now I'm verging more towards the bastard territory) I was more concerned with making sure I said an actual band's name (and not disappointing my father) to actually tell my dad his music taste is fucking shit. So I would spend every car ride suffering silently while slightly altered songs about Jesus and Women(tm) blasted into my tiny eardrums. It never occurred to my dad that I hated Tom Petty and the heartbreakers because I kept asking for his music to play so ofc I must love it. Anyway eventually I grew up and my dad still has no clue of the absolute vendetta I have against that band. He will occasionally tell me "hey you used to love Tom Petty's music when you were younger" and I feel like such a fool. Such a backstabber. My own father put his ding dong into my mother for me to appear and this is how I treat him? It is tragic. It is abhorrent. It is too cruel and stupid to even mention. I wonder how I can even dare to keep living like this? One day my father will be lying on his deathbed and I will have to tell him. I must. I will have to tell him I always hated that band and that I was just too stupid and dim-witted to memorise the name of an actually good band. And he will be so overcome with shock and betrayal he will age backwards and turn into a 12 year old and probably kick my shit in for lying to him. I can't believe I'm telling you this. How will I ever cope, I wonder, when I am no longer "insane and mentally ill" anon but rather my true identity? As someone who will forever have a burning desire to destroy all of Tom Petty's music? This is far too long to continue but thank you for listening to me Diya. Dad if you're seeing this I'm so so sorry also that tuna casserole our neighbour bought over last night was dog shit please tell her to ask her husband to knock up someone who knows how to cook. Thank you

anon you never fail to provide top notch life stories. bestie you gotta tell your dad at some point 😭