#i need 50 million like that. if anyone has any....
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secondhandroad · 3 months ago
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i actually think dean's greatest fear and greatest desire when sam was at stanford was for sam to Need Them and them not be there. he wants nothing more than to pick up the phone and it's sammy and he's broke/sick/scared/homeless/heartbroken/haunted and needs dean. and also that's the worst thing that he can imagine because it means he wasn't there when sam needed him to be
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forbidden-sin-bin · 1 year ago
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Sex and Filthy Smut headcanons
(Eminem x F!Reader Hc’s and drabbles)
Rated: E for explicit… no wait, this needs an X rating for possibly being the filthiest thing I’m gonna write in my life. God save my soul (probably not but hey at least I asked)
Warnings: I mean… look at the title. Need I say more??? Smut. Sex. Lovemaking, Intercourse. Whatever the hell you wanna call it. The whole 10 yards is here. It’s porn, not gonna lie at all.
Tags/Keywords: Smut, Heavy Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, fluff, fluff and smut, Pre-established relationship, Sexual Content, Kink, Overstimulation, Dom/Sub, BDSM, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Oral Sex, Giving/Receiving, Healthy Relationships, Feel Good, Everything sinful under the sun is found here, Author is going to hell, anyone who reads this is coming with me
A/N: Yes yes, ain’t no fuckbuddies or friends with benefits headcanons here, sue me. There is NO angst or sadness here. None, zero, zilch. Those kinds of relationships almost NEVER end well 98% of the time. This is all about you and him ONLY. Give it up for romance y’all.
Not gonna lie, there might've been more I wanted to add to this hellfire list of headcanons but once you've seen how much stuff there is below I hope you'll forgive me for finally putting this out here.
I hope by reading this, will provide you with comfort and satisfaction.
VERY special thanks to @smutty-books for beta reading and feedback along with helping me with this monster of a list! Please check them out and show them some love! (Seriously thank you Smutty for the additional ideas and content. you made this Hc's list a million times better and twice as much content included.)
(WARNING: Past this point is VERY EXPLICIT CONTENT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.)
General HC's:
Oh boy. Oh boy oh boy ohhhhhh boy.
You want sum fuk? You got sum fuk and way more.
As long as you’re his s/o, congrats on your sex life being absolutely demolished and rebuilt by this man. You’ll probably never find a better person in the bedroom for the rest of your life. It literally doesn’t matter if he’s your boyfriend or your husband, sex is a staple activity in your relationship that you both enjoy.
Fast and rough? Slow and steady? Maybe a little bit of both? You bet he’ll be saying fuck yeah to all of those.
His sex drive has always been relatively quite high, even after all these years. Being 50 and counting ain’t gonna stop him anytime soon.
Can, and will, want to fuck you on any and every surface of the house.
Living room couch? Perfect spot for bouncing in his lap or to blow him hard.
Dining room table? He’ll have you either bent over and railing you from behind or sitting on top while he devours your dripping wet pussy.
Taking a shower? You’ll be saving water if you do it together… yeah. Definitely not because of at least a half dozen things you can do in there with soothing hot water pouring down your bodies.
In the studio?…
Okay maybe not the studio he’s gotta work without getting distracted and lord save you two if anyone finds a sliver of evidence that you two fucked in there-
Not a PDA guy much, which also extends to any sexual antics outside. He won’t be taking any risks getting the two of you caught lacking
As long as you two are in the house, it’s free game
His views and methods of sex vary depending on which era we’re talking about
If he were in his 1999’s/2000’s era, then yeah, absolute horndog. He’s constantly so busy and on the move, sex would be a quick trip and onto the next. It would’ve scratched the itch, but arguably wouldn’t have sated his appetite for long. If he ever had a chance to have a good, drawn out sex session, it’ll leave him looking like he had a serious hangover but he’ll be waking up so relaxed.
Him being quick to fuck around and quick to leave was his style pre-Relapse. It’s a common thing you see around music artists in general and he was no exception. That doesn’t mean he was closed off to finding an actual solid relationship, it just becomes that much harder to find someone genuine. Most of the time though, he was busy putting out albums and producing music with a 9 to 5 regimen.
Post-Relapse/Recovery Em had insane stamina due to the excessive amount of exercise he put in. Call me insane, but I have a feeling this may be the time where he had the least amount of sex drive-
NOW HOLD ON HEAR ME OUT
He was starting out his sobriety around this time, I’m no expert but I would have to think that he hasn’t fucked or hooked up with anyone since then cause sex may have been a risk or his body was recovering, therefore most likely putting sex as a low priority. That isn’t to say he wasn’t busting a nut oh no, he probably became best friends with his hands again.
The time between Rap God/Monster Era was slowly building back up his drive, transitioning him to the Revival/Present Day era where he’s back on his blue-balling bullshit. Mans been practically putting out mating calls in his music and in interviews I mean COME ON HAVE YOU SEEN IT
He’s wise enough to not be caught slipping with hoes cause he won’t be caught with those hoes. At all. He’s not a hoe fucker no more. You heard him.
Finding an actual healthy relationship with one person? Someone give it to him, now.
(Anyone who remembers that one shot in that Rainy Days behind the scenes video where he points the camera to his crotch and says “EVERYTHING is for sale.” If that isn’t a man in heat I dunno what is; And that’s just one example out of many lemme tell you)
THE POINT IS, HE CAN GO FOR ONE ROUND, OR MANY, MANY MORE.
He���s determined to make you feel good more than him, but he’ll absolutely be having fun with how you’re gonna come. He’ll love exploring your body, finding out every little spot that gives you shivers down your spine.
Oh yeah, did I mention that he's got a big dick? He's got a big dick.
Don't try to deny it when you can't help but glance at his crotch all the time. It might be bias, or it might be fact that you can see the bulge in his pants.
Dom/Sub Roles:
He’s a dom, no question about that. Most of the time he’s a soft dom, not overwhelmingly asserting himself over you but firm enough to have you listen to him. Of course, he’ll be praising you a ton if you’re doing good and listening. But if you’re acting a little bratty, a little petty… yeah, he’ll make you behave, let’s just leave it at that.
Enjoys having you bent over his knee while he fingers your pussy, making sure you’re all nice and ready for him to enjoy.
If you squirm too much, expect a light spanking and a firm reminder to behave.
Again, not over the top with his dominance, cause at the end of the day, he wants to take care of you, to make you feel comfortable and show you how much he loves you. So praising isn’t just a dom thing, it’s genuinely how he expresses his affection to you.
If you insist on it, he can go even harder as a dom, upping his antics and getting off on seeing you beg for relief. Punishments will be even meaner and if you slip up even just a little, looks like you’re gonna have to start all over. No amount of pleading, teary whines from you will get him to change the cold, hard look in his eyes as he’s watching you.
Absolutely insistent on a safe word, no matter the situation.
Marshall’s immediately shifting to a protective, nurturing caretaker the moment your safe word leaves your lips and making sure your needs are met, completely understanding and shushing any apologies that threaten to leave your mouth for ruining the moment. You come first and foremost.
Amazing with aftercare. Will make sure that you’re okay and well taken care of after a session, praising you lovingly as he holds you close. If it was particularly intense, he’ll be checking in on you for the next day or so whilst feeling quite proud of himself that he can reduce you to a begging, dripping mess yesterday night. But he's by far more proud of you for trusting him and letting him experience you in such a vulnerable position.
All it takes is for him to say: "Such a good girl" and you're all his. (Can't blame you honestly-)
He'll be using your petnames even outside of your passionate sessions, even if it's just coming home to greet you after a day of work or passing by each other in the house to do something, a quick: "Hey peaches" or "How's my babygirl?" never fails to want to leave you smiling shyly, even after a bad day.
While being a sub is not what he would usually do at all, it’s not impossible. Once he’s far into a relationship with you and fully comfortable, he might actually give in to your insistence.
He has a need to feel like he’s in control, like he’s leading; Being on the opposite end is a big deal for him, so if he ever subs it’s a huge fucking compliment and privilege that shows how much he trusts and loves you to bare himself to you.
He’ll definitely be grumbly about it tho, and probably trying to act all teasing at your attempt to dominate him. But once you get past that first phase and he lets himself relax and give into your control… he doesn’t want to admit it, but he feels so fucking secure with you.
When he fully gives in, he’s preening and leaning into your touch. He’ll be such a good boy under your lavish praise and having all of your attention on him.
It feels almost foreign, not being the one in charge and making all the decisions for once. But once he gets used to it, he'll be doing whatever he can to receive your approval.
Seeing him at your mercy, letting you take the reins, makes it your priority to see him come undone by your command, holy shit, it's fucking beautiful.
If he's up for being a little more bratty (not unlike he's been on his petty shit for decades as his core personality trait let's be real here) and expecting to be punished and/or your dominance be harsher, the thought of pushing you to your limits with how much you're willing to keep up with him makes him really, really excited on the inside.
It’s both of your secrets, so don’t fuck it up, a'ight?
Teasing/Body Parts:
Speaking of secrets… he’s incredibly private, but at the same time, don’t be surprised if he ends up writing lyrics that may or may not allude or be inspired by your sex lives. You swear this man will be the death of you, smug bastard.
If you’re ever turned on by listening to his music or his voice, it’ll be such a massive ego boost for him, holy shit. No need to feel embarrassed, cause he’s fucking flattered.
Even tho his residence is far from any neighbors (and definitely soundproof), he’s got a playlist for your ears to get aroused to.
Imagine Marshall whispering in your ear or talking in that low voice of his and well damn now you’re horny is an understatement of the goddamn century.
And it’s not just you! Marshall gets off hearing you moan like crazy, another sign that lets him know he’s doing a damn good job. Hearing you whimpering gets him going, but making you scream? Jackpot.
Unsurprisingly to a lot of y’all, but he loves tits. He loves ass for sure, but feeling your breasts is just- Yes.
Love fondling them, licking, biting, sucking, you name it.
Now do the same for him-
OKAY OKAY HEAR ME OUT HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN’S PECS
MAN’S GOT HUGE FUCKING HONKERS. HOLY SHIT.
(No wonder he’s such a titty guy-)
But seriously, play with his chest and he’ll be moaning and writhing under you. Music to your ears.
Rest assured your ass will not be forgotten or neglected. No fucking way he’ll ever leave any part of you un-worshipped. Even when you’re just passing each other around the house he’ll playfully slap or squeeze your ass with a smirk. Cheeky fucker.
May or may not prompt him to just throw you down and pin you against whatever furniture is closest and have his way with you right then and there.
Or it could be the other way around! You can't help but give his sexy behind a mischievous swat or grab, or his pecs. He'll probably pretend to be miffed but you'll be catching him returning the smirk you have on your face. Oh, by all means, have your way with him right then and there as well. Equal rights, equal sexy times.
Grabbing your backside and pulling you closer to him, pressed against his chest and his growing bulge in his pants oh sweet Jesus-
Will for sure spank you while you’re riding him or he’s railing you from behind, the sounds of skin slapping against skin while he sees your ass jiggle with every thrust is just so fucking hot
He wants to reach deep down, as far as his cock can reach, nothing in the house is safe from him pounding your pussy and giving you a creampie.
Speaking of that, He LOVES to come into you or on you. It gives him a feeling of claiming what's his. Anytime he sees his cum dripping outta you or running down your skin, Marshall’s ready to go again.
Or he could use a sex toy, making sure his cum stays inside and your pussy ready for him in a few.
Kinks
We’ve already covered the dom/sub parts, but there is SO much potential for other kinks that you and him can get into so let’s get right into it
Breeding Kink:
I mean how can we not start this off without mentioning that
Can, and will ram you harder and faster than a piston AND make sure you both cum multiple times
If you’re walking the next morning, that means he failed the assignment so now he’s boutta rectify that
Dirty talk is cranked to a hundred as he’s growling in your ear on how much of a slut you are for his seed, how he’ll fill you up and make sure your womb is carrying his baby, how gorgeous you would look with your belly swollen with your little creation, etc.
Even if he’s sure that he doesn’t want anymore kids (given his age or experience, which is understandable), imagine the baby fever he gets when he sees or imagines you with kids
He’s perfectly happy with just you and him, but the possibility of you, him, and maybe a little one you made together from your love? His pupils are dilating like a cat getting ready to pounce
Even if the possibilities are extremely unlikely, the mere thought of it and he’s giving you the 🥺 eyes. (Every time you see him make those eyes at you, it’s probably cause he’s feelin the breeding urge)
If you're not able to, that doesn't change a thing; he wants to make you feel like you're his no matter what, and you are! He loves you for you.
Obsessed with coming inside you after railing you into the mattress, filling you to the brim with his seed
Loves giving you a creampie and then watching it leak out of your pussy, might take the initiative to stuff his spilling cum back into you
Or he could just fuck you at multiple different times during the day like the stud he is
Hell he may as well just not pull out and you’ll both be falling asleep still connected
You'll be waking up with his member engorged and slowly thrusting in you while he nuzzles into you, taking in your scent, kissing your lips so softly until you both cum. After that he takes you to the shower and you both wash each other
Loves marking your skin with his mouth, letting anyone know that your his and his only
Your cunt and everything else is thoroughly satisfied every time the breeding kink comes on don’t you worry about that honey
Size Kink:
Hey don't judge his 5'7 ass. Marshall's got other big things minus his height; Big hands, big ears, HUGE CO-
If you're smaller than him: He praises you for taking him in so well, whispers words of encouragement with every inch he pushes into you until you can feel his tip brushing against your cervix. Doesn't want to overdo it in fear of hurting you, but with your insistence he'll be going all out in due time
If you're taller than him: He LOVES it. No cap you being taller or bigger than him is so fucking sexy. Makes him more eager to make you come and more confidence in exploring different ways to do so
Takes a hand in yours and guides you both to press against your stomach, feeling for his cock thrusting into you
Praises you constantly as he feels your walls stretch around him so perfectly
Once you feel like you can take all of him, all of his restraint is gone as he pounds your sopping wet cunt relentlessly
Body worshipping is a must regardless of size
Feral/Primal Kink:
You know how possessive he can be, and that still translates to the bedroom. Even when he knows you're his, he can't help but feel turned on by his possessiveness for you.
And when you're all his, he can go fucking. Crazy.
It's also the dom feeling in him as well, but he has a need to claim you: Not out of insecurity, but out of his desire to make sure you know how much he loves you.
Likes biting your ear as an affectionate gesture. Sometimes he enjoys lightly tugging as a playful gesture to get you riled up.
Marshall thinks the growling thing is dumb as hell but if you're into that he'll try to give you some throaty growls in your ear, but expect him to start cracking up at his attempts until he's used to it
He thinks he can't do it yet he doesn't realize the low rumble in his throat whenever he gets a jealous streak
Voice/Audio Kink:
Well, well, WELL. Someone's ego is about to be stroked harder than his cock for once
He’ll absolutely be moaning and grunting more often when you guys have sex
Jokingly asks if you want to put some music on before you start fucking though he probably cringes listening to his own music during sex
Definitely ruins the mood for him when he hears someone that collabed with him on one of his songs or if any of his lyrics mention things that he doesn't want to think about when horny
Whenever he asks what you're listening to and hears one of his songs, he can't help but inwardly smile or smirk with pride. "Good choice." He nods, keeping his face unreadable.
If he catches you listening to FACK he just starts dying with laughter and dying on the inside simultaneously
No but seriously, he's super fucking flattered knowing how much his music or just his voice turns you on
Whispers in your ear during sex, either praising, teasing, or telling you what to do
He'll be observing which tone provokes the biggest reaction out of you so he can remember it for future reference
(People working with him in the studio are gonna be wondering why he's so close to the mic while recording recently)
Might record something just for your ears to listen to when you guys are apart ;)
Sex Positions
Missionary:
Ah, the OG.
Ranging from being the most vanilla to literally breaking the bed and making the house shake. Most people’s go-to position and Marshall is no different.
He’s got full access to your face, neck, and breasts while he pounds you into the mattress, absolutely loves it and it’s no surprise.
Is eye contact a kink? He’ll be wanting to look you in the eyes no matter the pace you’re going. Additionally may often include forehead touching and/or nose nuzzling. Incredibly hot and intimate.
If he’s feeling extra curious or dominant, he might even push your legs back and over his shoulders to reach even deeper into you. (In other words, putting you in a mating press.) You ain’t walking for a few days after this. Catch his freaky ass all smug n shit.
Slow and intimate in this position is SO fulfilling. It’s like baring your souls to one another.
Going fast and rough is just straight up a joyride and a half. It feels carnal in the best way possible.
Overall you can’t fuck this up really. It’s missionary for crying out loud.
Doggystyle:
*clears throat* Ahem. BARK BARK WOOF WOOF
If you haven’t seen my fic Heat yet, it’s basically me writing smut for the first time in this position but taken to the next level. Should hint at a lot on what imma bout to say tbh
YES. HELL YES. PLEASE LET HIM RAM INTO YOU FROM BEHIND. HE’LL BE POUNDING INTO YOU SO FUCKING HARD
If you go face down on the bed, ass up? Holy shit
Expect bruises on your hips the next morning… also a very horny man ready to go again or to absolutely worship the fuck outta you for taking it so fucking amazingly
He'll be running a bath for you, being extra doting and attentive, the whole nine yards while also feeing that masculine satisfaction™ at the fact that he's able to get you to that state of bliss.
By far the most feral position. If he’s got a breeding kink I wish you luck on how many times you’re gonna come and he’s gonna come
If you’re also into taking it in the ass I respect you 👀 kinky motherfucker would love to explore some new ways to fuck
Pronebone is also basically the same as mentioned above, but it’s got that intimate feel, you get me? He’s closer to you whilst also able to attack your neck and shoulders, maybe even have a hot make out session with you while he continues to pound your pussy or ass raw.
As long as you love taking it from behind he’ll be on his knees for you. And on top of you.
Cowgirl/Reverse Cowgirl, You On Top:
Ride him. That’s all I gotta say.
He wants you to ride him. Fuck him silly. He’ll lose it.
It’s a perfect demonstration of him still being the dom. You may be on top, but he’s the one in control.
Might tease you by making you work hard for a reaction outta him. He’ll be pretending to be unimpressed or smug while you bounce in his lap but in reality he’s trying so hard not to break
Either that, or he won’t be holding back on how good you make him feel. Mouth open, quietly moaning, grabbing your ass or your hips.
If he can't take it anymore, he pulls you down to him and holds you tight while he starts bucking his hips, pounding up into you like a piston
Even once you both come he starts back up again before you've even calmed down
Oral (Giving and Receiving)/69:
I mean… are we really gonna question it? Yeah you better give this guy some head he is a slut for it
Give him a blowjob and he’ll be the happiest man alive
You watching his expressions as you’re sucking him off
Might take some practice to take all of him into your mouth cause this man is BIG
Even when he’s got loose sweatpants on you can still see his bulge AND IT’S NOT WHEN HE’S HARD AND HORNY. MARSHALL’S PACKING.
I wish you luck in trying to deepthroat this man
When it comes to oral, he definitely prefers receiving rather than giving
But don’t you DARE underestimate this man’s tongue cause holy fucking hell he’s feasting on your pussy
PLEASE let him suck on your clit while he’s eating you out. That man’s mouth is amazing in many ways for a reason
Imagine having to go out after and if anyone asks him if he wants anything to eat he just replies: “Nah I’m good. I had something earlier.” And then GIVING YOU THE SIDE EYE LOOK-
BEARD. BURN.
Let this man bury his face in between your thighs and imagine the friction of his beard brushing against your skin. If that doesn’t make you cum then him lapping you up will guaranteed
69 turns into a competition to see who can get the other to cum first, or a comforting session of tasting each other
Standing:
Y'all know he can do it pinning you against a wall. Thanks 8 Mile
As hot as it is, take care as not to have your head or back bang against it
Great for quickies but probably not for a long time; You gotta give his back a break lmao
Hugging your waist from behind tho :eyes:
Add a mirror on both opposite ends of the wall and you can watch him thrust into you
He's holding you real tight and close, making sure to hold you up so your legs won't buckle
Spooning:
Feelin real cozy
It can be lazy morning sex; Intimate and gentle as he places kisses behind your ear and buries his face into your neck while he does long, deep strokes in and out of your walls
Or it can be rough: Holding your thigh up while his hips violently thrust into you, only stilling when he comes after you
Another way is his cock slipping between your thighs and humping you eagerly, or his cock rutting against your ass
Push your hips back in time with his thrusts for deeper penetration or the sound of your skin slapping against each other
His hands clutching your hips or grabbing your breasts as he moans in your ear, feeling his cock twitching with his release
- - -
ALRIGHT TIME TO STOP HERE I’VE BEEN KEEPING THIS IN MY DRAFTS FOR MONTHS Anyways hope y’all enjoyed this and then some <3 I might come back to this and and more so who knows? If you enjoyed let me know your feedback and if you have any suggestions!
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moodymisty · 2 months ago
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In your fics I see a lot of affectionate terms for the reader being thrown around. So in your opinion, what terms of endearment would each primarch use when referring to their beloved?
Or vice versa, what terms of endearment would the primarchs like to hear from their beloved? either through straight up telling you what to call him or just secretly enjoying the idea of you calling him that
So I actually did a 'what each legion would call you' here but I don't think I've done one for this so lets go for it.
Lion El'Jonson:
He calls you woman, later in the relationship love. You call him Lion, or sometimes love but only if you're alone and he's in a good mood.
Roboute Guilliman:
He uses darling, love, all the typical ones. If he's being a bit of a tease he'll use my lady. You use Guilliman in public, but in private you use Roboute. It actually melts his heart when you say it all softly. Use Robu if you're being silly but he hates it.
Magnus The Red:
Magnus loves to be overdramatic. You're his lady, the stars of his sky, his heart, and a million other even longer things. Besides just Magnus, you can call him your king if you really want to get him going.
Rogal Dorn:
Just your name. After awhile and in absolute privacy, he might call you love. But you'll hear it a few times if you're lucky. Rogal in private, anything else tends to make him get that brickish unimpressed look.
Ferrus Manus:
Your name, perhaps sometimes beloved. Like Dorn he's not a fan of vocal declarations of love. Ferrus, but calling him your Gorgon tends to make him chuckle. He'll tolerate love as well.
Perturabo:
He calls you girl, but also love and doll. There's a 50/50 shot of them having a demeaning undertone also though. You call him lord in company and that is absolutely it. In private, you can call him Bo, or love. You can call him a few other things like Siegemaster or daddy if you're in the mood to not walk for a few days.
Fulgrim:
He calls you love, my dear, darling, beloved, angel, moonlight, anything that is very sweet and dramatic. He rarely says your name. You always call him love and beloved, but there's a sappy romantic tone to it that makes it far more loveydovey than the previous primarchs.
Vulkan:
Besides the typical petnames, Vulkan loves to call you his wife. Anything that really solidifies that you are his and he is yours. Besides the usual myriad of pet names that would make anyone gag, calling him your husband always gets a soft smile. Calling him your drake gets you throw onto the bed.
Corvus Corax:
Besides your name, he might say my love in private, when he's feeling very sappy. On paper however, he is much more dramatic. Darling, beloved, my beautiful night sky. Corvus, or darling if he's feeling sad and needs a boost.
Alpharius/Omegon:
They both just call you love, but Alpharius is the sappier one in private with things like my dear.
Alpharius gets the typical petnames, Omegon needs you to call him by his name.
Konrad Curze:
Love, but it has this very condescending, dark tone to it. It has infatuation in it, but the way he says it almost feels, weird. He gets a bit better overtime. Konrad, mostly because no one else really dares call him that.
Sanguinius:
My lady, My love, My darling, my angel. Anything that has my in front of him. Sanguinius has a very subtle but very deep possessive trait. Your angel, love, you tend to be just as sappy right back at him but without the undertone of possessiveness.
Lorgar Aurelian:
My lady, My love, My (beautiful little) goddess, my stars, Lorgar also has a possession thing, but instead of like Sanguinius it's more religious than sheer ownership. Lorgar, but my lord really gets him going. Father if you don't want to have feeling in your legs the next day.
Mortarion:
He doesn't really refer to you in any way other than just your name, overtime a love or two might slip. Morty, my love, my king, my darling, you are infinitely more sappy than he is. He fucking loves it, even if he doesn't show it. This man is so down bad he would kill his own men for you if you called him your darling lord husband.
Jaghatai Khan:
He likes calling you your name, as well as one or two Chorgoran adjectives that mean sweet things. You always call him Jaghatai. He doesn't mind petnames like love, but high/low gothic petnames don't really have the same undertone of feeling that they would others given it isn't his mother tongue so he's kind of indifferent.
Leman Russ:
Girl, woman, my woman, my girl, my wife, den mother, bitch (fondly), he is very gruff but all of his petnames are said very fondly with a big smile on his face. You always call him Russ, or Leman if he's being a shit. Calling him your wolf is a good way to end up with full body beard burn.
Horus Lupercal:
My love, My princess, he really likes petnames that make you feel like this sweet little thing he holds dear. Calling him Horus, love, darling is fine, Lord Husband is teetering the end of getting your ass slapped (in a good way) Warmaster and daddy is a one way ticket to not getting seen by anyone for a week.
Angron:
None. At best he says your name, or woman/girl. Angron. He doesn't tolerate much else, but overtime he's come to somewhat accept love, but if he's in a bad mood that won't fly.
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 2 years ago
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i'm begging you for some Keegan angst🙏🏼 like perhaps he and his s/o get split up during an ambush; their s/o goes MIA and when they're finally found, they're badly injured,,, something like that. maybe some fluff/comfort at the end
happy holidays!🎊
Laughing Poets
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Pairing: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader
Synopsis: It was poetic the way the bullet ripped through your flesh – the spray of blood that exploded from you with high velocity. How will Keegan react when he realizes that he has to leave you behind?
Word Count: 10.8k
Warning: Angst, fluff, blood & gore, torture, Keegan calls you 'Kid' a lot, happy ending
A/N: This was supposed to be done about two days ago but I decided I hated it so I re-wrote the last half (might have switched a few things around). Enjoy, Anon, and thanks for the request. Also, not quite sure on the exact characterization of Keegan yet but I'm getting there. Slowly.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
It was poetic the way the bullet ripped through your flesh – the spray of blood that exploded from you with high velocity; so much so that it splattered the far wall of the decrepit house. At that moment, as you felt all the air being expelled from your lungs in a shuttering gasp, you could see poets from the long-gone Romantic Era scratching at thin paper with an ink-stained quill, laughing. Their charcoal-stained fingers would twitch as they write out your life with a furrowed brow, bathed in candlelight, and would smile as they slashed their signature at the bottom.
Would the poem of your life end so quickly?
Your head slams to the ground, white light erupting from behind your eyes as you try and suck back enough air just enough to be able to scream in agony. Molten heat is tearing you apart, peeling back nerves; breaking bone, and slashing past muscle with an inexhaustible surety. Dropping the modified AX-50 from your grip, the black and grey metal slams to the ground with a defining clatter as your ears ring with lightning. In the back of your mind, you hear the glass of its Thermal Duel Power Scope shatter into a million tiny pieces.
Shit, you had just gotten that from Kick a week ago. 
It was strange – the repercussions of your actions were happening all around you, but it felt like it was a world away as realization set in. You’d gotten shot? How? You got shot?! 
You wished your pitiful existence was worthy of a poem, truth be told; that it was worth more than the crimson that leaks from your left shoulder to the old, cracked, wooden ground. But that was never the case. 
Your body writhes and you wail out, head jerking back and forth in a primal display. 
You had chosen this life, whether by your own need for revenge or the sense of duty…you knew not. And now you would pay for it. 
Nobody knew you were hit, because you hadn’t told anyone through the comms, but there was also the fact that you were never meant to be this far out anyways. Merrick had fucking warned you this would happen if you stalked off on your own again, but as always, you had chosen the stubborn route. When you had seen this run-down shack of a house with a perfect vantage point, it made that predatory part of your brain sing with a need to hike to it – nestled right in between an outcropping of trees and overgrown vines atop a hill. With the threat of Federation soldiers in the war-torn town below, it was a God-send. You controlled it. You were master here.
Like a bird, Keegan would tell you, striding past, you just can’t resist a good perch, can you, Kid? 
The thing is, your Ghost Team shouldn't know you’re injured out here, but soon enough as you frantically try and grasp at your decimated shoulder with burning tears in your eyes and a gaping mouth, a stiff voice wavers through the static of your radio. The blood pools from you like an overturned ink well and your face pulls back in a desperate snarl.
The sound of gunfire was still raging hundreds of miles down into the remains of what was once the outskirts of San Diego but is now known as No Man’s Land. 
“Kid,” Keegan’s voice plays along your ears, but you’re too busy trying to force yourself up, blood hacked up from your mouth as you let out a strangled, no, “Where’d your scope go? Ajax needs cover fire two clicks to the west. Eyes up. No time for foolin’ around.”
Your skin is peeled back, and your flesh is infected with bits of your shirt and padded vest fabric inside the wound itself – like bugs crawling all over. You don’t want to think about the exit wound. The bullet had come from another sniper farther in the city, and, you knew, you were lucky you had survived the shot at all just on that fact alone. In your case, when you pulled the trigger, you rarely missed a killing blow. 
That was probably why Elias Walker had approached you in the first place – your kill count for Federation soldiers was off the charts, even with how young you were. Not quite a Ghost in full, but something in the middle; nearly there but not quite. You had to earn the mask first. Ajax liked to call you Greenhorn, but Merrick was more prone to Rookie. Kick was rarely out of his lab, so he didn’t call you much of anything. But Keegan…
“Blue Jay?” Keegan’s voice once more wafts out into the burning air, “Sitrep. Now.” 
“Keegan, push forward,” Merrick cuts through the channel and his heavy tone fills the house just as you begin to drag yourself across the floor. The echoes of the gun battle reverberate over the hills, “They’re boxing us in! Move, move, move!”  
You collapse against an overturned and broken coffee table with shaking limbs and tear-stained cheeks, struggling to find a good enough hold to press down on the wound as crimson leaks from between your fingers. A lung-shuttering gasp exits the flesh of your lips right before a burning makes itself known in the back of your throat. Not able to stop yourself, bile is forced all the way from your stomach, making a trail up your esophagus and finally pooling in your mouth. Gagging, you reel forward onto one hand and release the contents of Keegan’s ration bar from lunch back into the earth, watching the liquid concoction pool onto the ground that has grass whisps sneaking in from between the floorboards. Seeing that, and barking out another wail as long ropes of crimson drip down from your limp arm, you throw up once more. Everything is on fire. 
“When…when Ajax said getting shot felt like your skin was being flayed,” You groan, head starting to feel light-headed, “I thought he was just joking.” 
The sound of your agony-drowned voice brought a sense of urgency into your rapidly fading psyche. 
“Apply pressure,” Merrick’s imaginary voice in your head makes you straighten your spine – like he was a little angel on your shoulder hitting you with a newspaper. You call-back the memory of the Ghost as he was going over medical procedures a month back, “If your hand slips, you die, and I'm not carrying your limp body back to the Fort like a fucken’ sack of potatoes. No one can respond better than yourself in this type of high-risk situation, you understand? Panic is not an option in No Man's Land and if you think it is, you have no right being here...Make a tourniquet; tie it off, and wait for backup. Here, Rookie, practice on Keegan.” 
Doing the best you can with only one functioning arm, your fingers twitch as you card them clumsily over the pouches on your chest. Finding the velcro of your medical bag, you whine as you rip it open, flesh so sensitive that even the rough fabric of your own property is grating to feel. If you weren’t running on adrenaline, you tell yourself, you most likely would have already passed out.
Ripping out the roll of medical gauze and praying you had enough, your shaking hand travels to your right shoulder, not even noticing the hurried conversations and screaming orders over the comms. 
Make a tourniquet, You think to yourself, grunting out into the air when you have to move your arm into position. The entire limb was stained red, liquid dripping off your nonresponsive fingers to the floor. What if you never regained the function of your arm again? Your thoughts were running. What if you could never shoot your rifle all because you felt the need to go too far on your own? To prove yourself?
The thoughts scared you more than you liked to admit. This life was everything to you – pushing back against the Federation, who had taken so much from you, and being alongside the Ghosts. It was what you had worked so hard for. 
Then fight for it, You don’t know why Keegan’s smooth voice comes to you at that moment, but as you pull the gauze so tight around your open wound you scream and see stars; nearly keeling over as well, it brings forward a steely determination, Don’t expect everything on a silver platter, Kid. But then again, you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t already know that.
“Fucking hell,” Face contorted with unmatched distress, you suck down breaths and let the gauze soak up your life; blood in deep puddles already seeping through, “I need to move – t-tell the others…”
“Blue Jay’s not responding,” Keegan speaks over the static of the comms channel, “I’m doubling back.” 
Your functioning hand latches onto the radio, weak fingers slipping for a moment as your body sways forward. Struggling, you stumble to your feet and steady yourself on the termite-eaten wall near the window. You peak out and try to spot the enemy sniper with wheezing breath and a sweat-flooded forehead. 
Pressing down on the radio to speak, you’re appalled by how hard the simple act was. 
Am I dying? 
“Don’t Keegan – in order to break the line you’ll need everyone to be there,” You have to blink away the blurriness of your eyes, “I’m spotting twelve tangos near the storage facility. Merrick, I’d suggest taking a left and circling the flank.”
Merrick responds, “Good eyes, Rookie. Ajax, on my six!”
Your vision swirls, forcing you to suck in a sharp breath and splay your legs shoulder length apart so you don’t fall forwards. You pointedly avoid look at your wound.
“You want to explain why you weren’t responding?” Keegan’s voice is stern, hiding an edge somewhere in its tone that you choose not to acknowledge, “This isn’t a game!” On a far-off building, you spy a glint, making your attention snap to it like a cat and a mouse—sniper scope. 
There’s that Bastard, Your fingers twitch with hatred, glossy and tear-clogged eyes narrowing. If you had the ability to shoot right now…
A bullet nearly takes your head off, splintering the frame of the window before lodging into the floor.
“Shit!” You yell, reeling back; forgetting for a moment you were on the open channel.
“Greenhorn, what’s going on over there?” Ajax finally graces the line, “You doing something stupid again?” You don’t know why you hesitate…why you’re so cautious to reveal to them that–
“That’s it,” Keegan snarls, “I’m going to your position.”
You shake your head, your mind so jostled that you don’t say anything for a moment until you realize that no one can see you.
“I took a bullet to my right shoulder.” You concede, voice low with self-hatred, “Clean through, nothing to worry about, just won’t be able to cover anyone…C-can’t feel my arm.” 
The line goes dark for a moment, and as you listen to your own ragged breathing that leaves you more hunched over the longer you stand up, it suddenly explodes. A cold shiver travels down your spine; sweat drips from your nose. Your eyelashes flutter.
“What the hell do you mean you got hit!?”
“Son of a Bitch, Rookie, give us your position, now. We’re pulling back.”
“No!” You yell, growling, and shaking your head, “This is a key location to taking back San Diego – there are vantage points, cover, hell, even weapons caches left over from before the war in one of the military bases. We need to secure this town. I’m fine!” But they weren’t listening, even if everything you were saying made sense. 
They can’t ruin the operation over one person, You told yourself, heart pumping a mile-a-minute, No one I’ve worked with has ever done that before and the Ghosts sure as Hell shouldn’t be the first. These guys were Special Operations before ODIN destroyed half the US – they know better.
But you were forgetting one critical detail. The Ghosts aren’t just any other team; they care about their own perhaps even more than the missions they get sent on. 
But I’m not one of them, You grunt to yourself, letting your eyes close and knocking your head back into the wall behind you. The fact makes you want to cry, but you’re forced to acknowledge the sore spot later. 
God, your arm felt like it was being burned to a crisp. You grunt and grit your teeth as another wave goes through you.
“How long ago did you get hit!?” Keegan barks and the sound of shouting from below your perch momentarily increases.
“I..” You try and think. How long had it been? More than seven minutes couldn’t have passed. 
“Answer me!” 
“F-fuck, I don’t know! Four-five minutes ago!” Yelling makes your head throb, a deep booming that echoes like a drum in your consciousness. 
The door to the house squeaks as it opens. 
Eyes snapping to the wall that separates the living room from the foyer, your voice cuts out immediately. Keegan was fast – lethally fast – but the town below your perch was at least a few miles, this was because your AX-50 was specialized at long-distance shots. It would be no good in the heat of an ongoing ground battle. I mean, hell, it only held seven shots; even with the modifications you had added on by yourself. 
The person who had opened the door wasn’t a Ghost.
And that meant they were your enemy.
Doing the best you can to move stealthily, you unclip the combat knife from your belt and listen with bated breath as you slink over to the doorway. You hate the way your hand shakes as it holds the hilt but revel in the fact that your left arm is numb enough to not cause you to bellow out. Holding your breath, you lean against the barrier on your good shoulder and bring the blade up near your chin. 
There are hesitant footsteps that shake the fragile frame of the building, and you feel the reverberations travel up your feet and make your skin shiver. Goosebumps form along your arms. 
Creeeek, crack-clack
The floorboards squeal like a stuck pig, the old boards splintering off as an unseen assailant’s feet cautiously move through the house. The sound of heavy breathing comes closer, nearing the doorway to the room you say stone-still in. 
Your radio flares to life.
“Rookie–” It only takes a moment, but Merrick’s voice is the signature at the end of your poem; whatever you would have heard from the man was lost. 
A Federation soldier dressed in camo and grasping a shotgun rampages around the corner. 
Keegan knows he’s too late when he sees the run-down visage of the shack with its front door open.
I taught her never to leave the doors behind her ajar. 
The Ghost had been training you for months – taking you somewhat under his wing, albeit reluctantly. Elias was clear when he gathered everyone together, train her to be like us. And they had all done just that, Keegan more harshly than anyone, but that wasn’t to say you were untalented. 
The stoic Ghost had yet to see a more talented sniper than himself, but you came in as a close second. You were the perfect asset, able to stay back when everyone else went in. You were the cover, the master behind the curtain that clears a path with a pull of a trigger. The Ghosts owed many missed nicks and scrapes to you and your calls. So when Keegan had heard you stop answering over the comms; not responding to Ajax’s hurried quips…
Keegan’s heart hammers as he ascends the front steps overgrown with weeds and wildflowers, the Honey Badger Assault Rifle held white-knuckled in his grip. As if on autopilot, the man switches the safety off and enters, face behind the fabric of his balaclava. The contorted visage of the white paint over the front created quite the nightmare and paired with the black eyepaint Keegan could only be compared to a beast. 
The slight clinking of the rope hook tied to his waist and the metallic bit and bobs in his vest was the only sounds he made, the years upon years of perfection ingrained into the way he breathed; the press of his feet to the floor. Keegan would only allow someone to hear him if he wanted them to, even if he was the size of a boar.
His cerulean eyes flicker down the hallway, but nothing moved beside the stale wind – smelling only dirt and…
Blood, Keegan’s nose twitches, eyes narrowing. The man tries to ignore the way his heart picks up pace.  
Had he really grown so attached to you that he would forsake his teammates to come and check on your situation? Perhaps the stupidest thing he could do to himself was begin to enjoy your presence. But that didn’t change the fact that you were his responsibility, and in the back of his mind there was a nagging concern. 
He had grown to care for you, and that was unexceptable.  
Keegan enters the living room with his rifle held ahead of him, scanning the room for tangos before he lowers it. Empty. 
And then he sees the remnants of a struggle. Head going back and forth the Ghost follows a trail of gore along the floor, an explosion of crimson over the wall behind him, and feels his chest rumble in a growl over the image of a broken AX-50. His breath stills.
The metal was dented, and the scope shattered, leaving glass over the ground like marbles. Keegan felt a dangerous heat enter his blood, eyes flashing; a specific type of rage growing in his gut and twisting his intestines. 
“Where are you, Kid?” He mutters, fingers flexing over the trigger of his weapon. Where did you go? His throat tightens, lips thin. Merrick’s voice comes over the radio with a hard edge.
“Keegan, sitrep. How’s our girl doing? Evac is on its way and we’re pulling back. Getn’ pretty hot over here.” Keegan takes a moment before rushing over to your signature weapon, letting his own fall against his chest and bounce off his vest. Grasping the gun you worshiped by the blue strap, his eyes go along its long body, spying the custom modifications and intricate detailing over the stock. Tiny Blue Jays are scratched and covered in crimson; the colors faded.
You had painted it yourself when Keegan had taken a liking to referring to you by the callsign, and he had never really had the chance to look at it until now. Staring at it for a moment longer, his thumb lightly swipes away a droplet of blood, letting one of the birds once more be visible. Keegan swings the rifle over his back and feels the heaviness of it – the weight of the customizations and the top-grade material. This was your pride and joy along his back, moving with every flex of his shoulders with the barrel hitting the back of his knee. 
He carried it was a sort of reverence; a delicateness that was never connected to his name.
She’d never leave this behind without a fight. 
Keegan’s tense fingers go to his radio, eyebrows pulling in and eyes emotionless. But the stubble shake of his hand makes him want to punch someone. Whoever had done this to you would pay.
“Blue Jay’s gone.” He states, monotone, “House is empty with signs of a struggle.” 
The man turns back to the doorway, glass crunching under his feet, and walks back out into the hallway. 
“What do you mean ‘gone,’ man?” Ajax butts in, and over the comms the sound of bullets hitting metal creates a ringing sound, “She’ll bleed out!” 
“Move!” Merrick’s voice sizzles out as a grenade goes off, and the line cuts for a moment as Keegan nonchalantly comments, 
“All good?” 
“We’re taking heavy fire. Without the girl’s backup, we can’t stay here – Ajax and I are heading to the Evac point and’ll draw their attention into the woods. Find that damn kid, Sergeant.” 
“On it, Sir.” Keegan releases the device on his vest and turns his hidden head. He sweeps the rest of the shack with a heavy weight on his shoulders, taking notice of a constant trail of blood throughout the hallway. With every moment passing the weight of the situation settles in his gut.
“C’mon Kid,” He whispers, voice gruff, until he finally goes to the busted-down back door and finds the body. 
It was laying face down in a bed of wild grass, a thin breeze moving its shirt sleeves. A shotgun lays a few feet from the corpse, surrounded by old rubble and a small downed treetrunk; it was still smoking, dark metal caressed by dirt. Keegan rushes over, taking in the motionless branches of the forest and the knife still lodged in the Federation soldier’s head. 
Tapping the man with his foot, the Ghost goes to grab the blade by the hilt and rip it out. Hearing the shink of metal separating from flesh and feeling the spray of blood over his tactical glove. 
Just as he feared, the knife belonged to him. His body coils.  
Keegan had given it to you after you lost your own on the last mission, the black blade a perfect match to the one currently sitting on his waist. He had wanted it back, but you had teased and asked what if I needed it in the future with a raised eyebrow and body leaning into Ajax who sat next to you. Begrudgingly, Keegan had deadpanned and said he expected you to return it after you found a replacement. But you had just smiled at him, lips pulling back into a bright display and wrinkled eyes. Your face had glowed in the daylight, shadows disappearing and the heavy bags everyone was sporting under their eyes vanishing on yours. Keegan had felt his chest hitch, even if outwardly he remained as stoic as always, and that was it.
The man had dropped the conversation and had never asked for the blade back. In fact, something had swirled in Keegan’s gut the next time he saw his knife strapped to your waist, the band holding the hilt tight against you and bunching your shirt up. It was pathetic, Keegan admitted when he had frozen at the sight at the time, legs jerking, but seeing something of his own on your body had made his heart go wild; eyes so obviously boring into you that your cheeks had gained a sheen of embarrassment that day. Keegan had stalked away, unable to admit to himself that something was going in inside of him that he had no control over.
That was the point of no return, he realized. The overturned inkwell onto the thin parchment. 
You were the poet and him the words in your head, using him without a clue. 
“Fuck,” He growls, gripping the knife so tightly it digs into his gloves and hurts the flesh inside. His head turns to the forest, burning eyes roving for any sign of you even as a strike of pride filters through him. Injured and disoriented, you had taken down a man two times your size with only his knife and your wits. Now that really got his blood pumping.
Besides a thin trail of blood drops over the grass, leading far into the tree line, you had all but disappeared. Keegan’s heart was pounding, ready to run in after you.
She couldn’t have gotten far, especially not with a wound like she described. I’ll catch up. I have to.
“Keegan we need you at the Evac point, ASAP!” Ajax screams, voice strained, “Else we’re going to be coming home in body bags, man!” 
“I don’t have Blue Jay yet–”
“There’s no time,” Merrick yells out, and Keegan hears the whizz of bullets from over the line, “Federation soldiers are storming us – get here now! Or you’re getting left behind. That’s an order, Sergeant!” 
She won’t survive, Keegan tells himself, forcing down the mucus in his throat, not by herself. 
Ghosts don’t leave their own behind. Merrick undoubtedly planned to return when the heat was off them; send a recon force to the area to look for signs of life. Keegan clenched his fists, eyes dead as they stare off into the trees and expansive foliage. This area was notorious for its high cliffs and steep dropoffs – one wrong move and everything was over in an instant. The earthquakes were worse. Ever since ODIN was fired the tremors had been constant. 
The odds weren’t in your favor even without adding in a possibly fatal wound.
Keegan takes a step forward, inching closer to the treeline unconsciously with firm feet. 
“Keegan – do you trust her!?” 
“What?” Merrick’s loud comment had shaken Keegan, making him freeze; eyes wide. He was only one step into the wild, perhaps only one step closer to finding you. Did he trust you? What kind of question was that? The woman who always fooled around with Ajax, pushed Marrick’s buttons to a point the man had begun to respect you? Blue Jay, who always made a point to bring Keegan into conversations and try to get him to smile at her – carrying herself with elegant confidence? 
Did he trust you? How does one even describe trust? After everything that’s happened, could he place his trust in someone else other than his Ghost brothers? Keegan’s jaw clenches, head looking back and forth before slowly going to sneak a peak at the body behind him. His chest tightened. 
He already had an answer, but found that he couldn’t say it aloud. 
Apparently, the moment of silence gave his friends what they needed.
“Then get your ass back here! The sooner we have a chance to regroup we’re comin’ back and gettin’ her. Rookie knows what she’s doing…we’ve given her every lesson we could. It’s up to her for a while.”
“Trust in her, Keegan” Ajax chimes, “Just as she trusts you.”
Keegan turns his back to the forest, hearing every step of his feet over the ground as they carry him away from you. 
“Copy.”
The words are firm, but the ink of them bleeds.
You wake up chained to the ceiling, shoes gone, and socked feet dangling over the floor. Blood from a new gash on your head trails over your right eye and leaves the already flickering movement of your eyelashes more constant as the liquid dribbles to your tense jaw in a steady flow.
It had happened so fast – far faster than your already addled mind could have comprehended. A group of Federation soldiers had been camping out in the woods and had sent only one of their men into the shack you had deemed too far out of the way for any up-close confrontation; the rest had stayed and waited. The minute your back was too close to the tree line after you had lodged Keegan’s blade into the lone man’s skull, they had grabbed you. 
Apparently, they dragged me back into town, too, You growled to yourself, how could I be so dumb?! 
The only upside of this situation was that in order to question you they had to keep you alive long enough to get you to speak. Already the heavy padding over your numb left shoulder calls to you like a siren song; the dichotomy of the position you were in almost made you laugh. The Federation soldiers had you hooked up to the ceiling like a butchered pig but took the time to dress your wound so you wouldn’t bleed out. 
You wiggle your fingers, the lack of circulation already leaving the top half of your body tingly. Next, your feet. In the back of your mind, you wonder if you’ve been drugged, because the words from your head seem to spill from your lips unprompted and the pain of your situation is dull; muted.
“Hell,” Your voice is loud, tone slurred, and rough. Oh yeah, definitely high off something, “If you wanted to tie me up you could have just asked me!” 
Opening your eyes as full as you can, you look around weakly and lock onto rusted metal walls and a set of large warehouse doors. 
“You brought me to the warehouse? How stupid could you be?” You say aloud, twisting your neck around before the clinking of chains stops you, “Isn’t this near the old logging company? This is close to the edge of the town! If I wanted to escape I’d be gone in five seconds.”
Your drugged snickering echoes off the walls, bouncing back at you mockingly. Soon enough footsteps sound off from beyond the closed door, many, many feet marching down an unseen hallway. You smile, thinking, finally, and hear the blood from your head drip to the floor every other second. The warehouse door slides open with a shriek and your vision blinks out, black momentary shrouding you before it filters back. 
Three men enter the room, all dressed in the black and gray camo of the Federation – straps and combat vest so similar to your Ghosts that in your state you confuse the two. They even wore black balaclavas and the one in the middle is a similar build to your Sergeant, tall, and built like a damn bear.
“Keegan?” You whisper, head tilting to rest on your strained arms as your eyebrows pull in before sparks of pain fly. Was that…you have to shake your head, skull suddenly burning. No. There’s a thin moment of clarity before that haze re-settles. 
This isn’t right. That is not my Keegan. Not my Ghosts.
The middle man leads the other two at his sides, nodding his head behind him and the door begins to close; the others peel off and go to guard the entrance, leaving you and the man to have a conversation semi-alone. 
He stops a few feet from you, eyes a deep brown and boring into your body. Your lips pull back.
“There are more simple ways to question someone besides stringing them up, man.” Your sentence cracks halfway through, but you don’t notice. 
The man just stares, tilting his head to the side. After a moment of eye contact, he speaks.
“You are not a Ghost.” His voice is accented – Spanish is most likely his first language.
“Yeah, trust me,” You groan, head once more pulsing. Your feet shimmy over the ground, toes lightly brushing the concrete, “No one’s more fucked up about that than I am. I train my ass off–” 
A sold punch is landed to your gut, tossing your body back as the chains above you squeal. The air is expelled from your lungs in a series of deep coughs, lungs rattling as spittle flies from your lips, you feel your organs shake inside of you. It takes a few moments for you to catch your breath and dispel the sledgehammer blow, but already the man is talking when the bulk of your panting has barely slowed.
“You are going to tell me a way into Fort Santa Monica,” He pulls a knife from his waistband and takes a step forward, putting the blade directly on your right side. Your clothes crease where the tip presses and needle-like sparks fly from your flesh, “Or I will have to ring the answer from you like water in a rag.”
With a pounding heart, your mouth runs unprompted, “Ghosts don’t break, asshat. And I may not be one of them, but I certainly know that I won’t let my boys down.” 
What the hell did they give you? Keegan had warned you to never say too much when captured. Don’t make ‘em angry unless you want a reminder of the power they have at that moment. But it wasn’t like you could help it anymore–
The blade sinks through hot flesh, and inside the warehouse, a high-pitched scream flows outside; scattering birds and beasts alike. 
This continues for three long days. 
Keegan was stone-still as Elias bend over the meeting table, a map of the town and surrounding forest where you had gone missing spread out. Everyone was silent, and Keegan has to shuffle his feet to reduce the tension in his thighs and shoulders; his hands tighten over his chest. Ajax is the first to speak over the tense air as Merrick repeatedly itches at the skin of his bald scalp from where he stands behind a chair.
“We have to move,” The Ghost growls, and when no one responds Ajax hits a closed fist to the table, “soon, Elias.”
The slam echoes over the room, bouncing off the walls.
“Ajax,” The man in question shakes his head, “What we need to do is think this through. Form a proper plan and carry it out with more intel.” 
Elias pulls back to his full height but Keegan’s eyes stay locked on the map, flicking mutely over the marks and topography. 
It’s been three days, He tells himself, She’s probably dead by now. The files already have her labeled as MIA.
Under his balaclava, his jaw clenches in feral denial. Why did the thought of that fact make him want to go out and search for you himself, regardless of Elias’s sound logic? You couldn’t be dead. Missing was better than that – missing meant he could find you.
Perhaps it was the same emotion that had given him a sinking feeling when, two days ago, the entire Ghost Team had gone back out to the forest under the cover of darkness to search for you. All Keegan had found was the footsteps of multiple Federation soldiers and signs of one of them dragging something heavy behind his back. 
It was obvious what had happened, and as he had slowly turned his head down to the town lit up by spotlights, the only thing that had stopped him from tracking you down was Elias’s heavy hand on his shoulder. Keegan’s eyes were lit with a dangerous light, glinting with the promise of revenge. 
He wanted you back – he would get you back – regardless of the consequences. No one messed with you and lived, whether that meant the revenge was carried out by your own hand or by his doesn’t matter. That town would be purged. Keegan would see to it. 
The Federation had made it personal. 
“She’s getting tortured!” Ajax yells, insight voicing what everyone already knew, “Greenhorn would rush in if it was one of us out there instead of her!” 
“Then it’s a good thing we’re here, isn’t it?” Elias runs a hand down his face, army shirt and cargo pants noticeably wrinkled. No one had slept while they waited for more recent intelligence on the number of tangos in the town, “We can’t be rash. They’ll know we're comin’ for her if we mess this up.”
“Elias,” Merrick finally speaks up, placing his large hands on the chair’s back and leaning into it, “You know we all trust you to make the call…but I have to agree with Ajax on this. We’re practically leaving the Kid behind if we wait any longer.” The stocky Ghost scratches at his beard, “You know what they’ll do to her.”
The older man has a soft spot for you, Keegan realized with a roll of his head and a crack of his neck. All of them had a soft spot. Waiting here was like keeping a group of trained attack dogs from a target – most of all Keegan. Patience was supposed to be his ally, and he had taught you just the same, so how had it left him so stupendously?
Elias grunts, crossing his arms. He looks over to the only person who had thus far been silent and brooding in the corner. A dark cloud was heavy over the Ghost’s head, anyone could see it. A man at the edge of an already fraying rope of sanity. 
“Keegan?” Elias asks, gruffly, already knowing the man’s emotions and thoughts, “Do you have anything to add?”
Normally Keegan was one who would wait for a sure answer, but in this instance, the next words he said rocketed out of him before he could fully think over the gravity of what they meant. Always the cautious one, the times he wanted to rush in blind could be counted on one hand and on less than five fingers…but that was before you. Before the hours the two of you spent together training, building trust, and protecting each other in the field with knife and bullet. 
All that mattered was getting you back to him. And the words wrote themselves, curved, under the gentle influence of an ink quill. 
“I’m bringing my girl home.” 
A moment of silence tightens over his throat; the stoic man’s feet move from under him as his eyes slightly widen. If he had the ability his face would have blossomed with a blush, but even so, the embarrassment was visible to those who had known him the longest. 
Shit, he hadn’t meant for it to sound like that.
Keegan dares to look back at Elias, only to find the leader smirking, a knowing glimmer in his eyes that leaves him freezing like a mouse under the gaze of an owl. 
“Well, then, let’s go get your girl back.”
Ajax snickers and him and Merrick spare glances, amused, nearly saying about time.
Your body lightly swings, blood in a pool below your feet and rippling as another drop enters the flood. Your nose is broken; bleeding, just like your ribs. Cuts litter your skin, clothes are ripped and shredded and swarmed with crimson both dried and new. Your combat vest had been ripped off, the rough material thrown somewhere behind you by enraged fingers and ripped apart for any indication of a blueprint of your Fort or useful intel.
The Federation soldiers had left you alone with your thoughts not five minutes ago and to your credit, you have not broken. Not even after everything – the hits, stabs, and beatings that left you sobbing and biting back pleas. Throughout all of it, Keegan’s voice stuck with you; you had drowned in good memories in the small moments you were able to breathe without being slugged in the chest. 
The way Keegan would send you soft glances when he thought you weren't looking and how the blank-faced man kept your skills sharp as a way to make sure you were safe. His rare smiles; comforting interactions when you were up late practicing with your rifle. A weak smile filters over your bloody and bruised face, eyes blinking closed as the air is expelled from your lungs in a deep sigh. 
“You’re going to get a sore neck if you keep doing this, Little Blue,” The words startled you, eyes widening from where one looks through the scope of your AX-50. Your head jerks back, finger immediately dropping from the trigger you were just about to pull. 
“What the actual fuck, Keegan!?” Hair whips around you as your body turns, facing the man leaning against the doorway as a nightly breeze rustles through the outside firing range, “Has no one told you not to sneak up on the person with the gun?”
“I was the one that told you that, Kid.” He raises a brow, strong jawline on display for the moon. 
It was rare that the man took off his balaclava when in your presence, and you took a moment to stare from your position on the ground; your heart jerks against the concrete before you shove the feeling in it’s tissue down. 
Keegan’s presence made the heat on the back of your neck increase, hands getting clammy over the metal of your gun. You flex them in what you hope looks simply like a resetting method.
“Well, then you’re not good at taking your own advice...” You grumble, huffing and fixing your posture, looking back out over the field and the white target over six hundred feet away, “And my neck is perfectly fine, thank you.”
“It won’t be if you keep getting up and creeping out here every night. I thought I wore you out today?” The memory of getting thrown to the ground more times than you could count during a sparring match made your muscles remember to ache, “Or do I need to ramp up the difficulty? You almost pinned Ajax today.” You suppress a wince and send a quick glance over to the Ghost, who pushes off the wall and sighs, stalking over to you. 
“If you think you need to,” Licking your lips, you feel his heavy shadow over your form. You replace your cheek to the stock of your rifle, once more seeking to line up the shot as quickly as possible, “And you did ware me out.” Muttering, you feel yourself get lost in the wave of the sensation of purpose – superiority singing in your veins. 
This rifle was your quill, and with it, you signed the signature of death on the poems of others’ lives. 
This was your calling, and not a moment later, not feeling the reverent eyes on the side of your face as Keegan stills his breath, you pull the trigger. It lands just a millimeter from the center of the target. Your jaw tightens and you tell yourself, ‘not good enough’ with a narrowing of your eyes. 
The action wasn’t missed. 
“You’re at this every night, Kid,” Keegan stands by your left thigh, his eyes digging into you, “Don’t pretend like I haven’t noticed.” 
You pull back, shame coursing through your veins. You had tried to be stubble, but were you really that bad? 
But of course you were, your cheeks head, you lived in the Ghosts’ barracks. They all knew you were sneaking off at night to practice. Your lips thinned at that realization; you really had a lot to learn.
“Blue Jay,” Keegan prods, the authority of his rank now leaking into his tone; it has you straightening unconsciously, “Answer me.”
“...I just need to be better,” You mutter under your breath, going to line up another shot. 
A hand on the scope jostles the view, making you pause and tense. Your breath stills in your chest, feeling body heat beginning to leak into your shivering form. 
No words are spoken in that silent minute, but you know enough about your Sergeant to tell when he wants you to stop doing something. Keegan’s silence was a mystery that you had only just started to unravel for yourself. Your hands loosen enough for him to take the rifle from your grasp, bringing it up into his grip delicately. 
Shuffling up to your knees, you place one hand on your thigh as the other goes to rub at your eyes, feeling the fatigue leak out onto your fingers. 
“You’re not going to get better if you keep forcing your eyes open,” Keegan mutters, and his form knees down next to you. The rifle was placed on the ground a few feet away. A warm hand lays on your shoulder and you stifle a hitch in your breath managing to inhale the scent of gunpowder and fresh-cut grass; hickory wood. You have to blink away the sleep that settles on your eyelids. 
How was he so warm?
“How do you know that?” You grunt out, itching your eyebrow. You don’t register right away, but a deep chuckle settles warmly on your chest as the man at your side releases it.  Reverberations like a purr make you sigh slowly.
“You’re good, Little Blue,” Keegan’s hand goes to your chin, and your cheeks heat as he directs your gaze to his gently, thump and first finger firm. His eyes flicker over your face, taking in every line and imperfection before settling on the black and blue bags that have lived on you for weeks. In turn, you study him – the strong jaw line, usually hard eyes leaning towards soft and caring. You liked when he looked like that; more than anything, you liked when he looked at you like that, “don’t reduce your skill to anything less than what it is. Practice is good, Kid,” Keegan lowers his voice, and your eyes stay locked, “But I can’t watch you ruin yourself.” 
Your heart stutters, and your body becomes soft under his touch.
“...but I don’t want to let anyone down.” Eyebrows turning in, Keegan pauses a second at your comment, fingers on your chin tightening for a moment before it begins to travel. 
Heart pounding, his touch leaves electricity behind with every scrape of his callouses and healed scars. His eyes stay trapped on yours, watching every minute emotion and movement from you and your hands shock-still in your lap. 
“Let ‘em down?” Keegan huffs, the breath ruffling your hair, and his hand settles over your cheek. He continues as his large thumb goes to pet the skin of your undereye, leading your eyes to flicker shut as he mutters your name, “Not a damn chance. You’re a natural, Kid. Hell, you get some proper sleep for once and maybe one day you’ll be as good as me.” 
Even with your eyes closed, you couldn’t help the smile that bloomed over your face, feeling his eyes softly fall over your visage.
“Promise?” 
You missed the small twitch of Keegan’s lips, “...I promise.” 
Shaking yourself out of the memory, your body plays dead as the warehouse door once more opens. A plan had formed, taking root and digging into the small tissue of your brain. 
“Why isn’t she moving?” The voice of the Middle Man was enough to make your body tense, toes twitching. No one seemed to notice before you once more went slack, “Get her eyes open!” 
Twin pairs of feet slam to the floor, coming closer; soon hands are slamming into your ribs, shaking you back and forth. The bones in your chest move strangely, disconnected from where they were supposed to be. But you hold back your screams, a thin, lip-bitten whine stuck in your mouth. 
Your body whines to a stop when the blows halt. 
“I said get her eyes open!” Words are yelled in Spanish, and if you were in the right state you would have been able to translate them. 
Merrick made sure you were fluent in multiple languages and was one hell of a rough linguistics teacher. Every day you had kept a count of how many swear words he let loose. The undefeated record was fifty-five in one session. 
“Let her fall, then! She can’t be dead.” The last half is muttered, followed by a tapping of fingers over palms. Your ears twitch at the sound of receding steps, fast feet, and then the sound of a pulley system and rattling chains. 
Your body drops, slamming to the floor, and head bouncing off the concrete like a ball. You don’t have to play dead at that moment, because you’re sure that you passed out, a crack resounding in the bone of your skull and shaking your brain. The chains around your numb arms loosen, leaving your bloodied wrists burning as the air hits them. 
Staying still, your body lays sideways, but small trails of water dribble out from your tear ducts. 
Just a little longer, You try and tell yourself as circulation comes back to your arms. Shadows dance behind your vision, people moving by you and circling like wolves. Your limbs want to writhe back and forth, help make the needle-like stippling in your nerves go away if only for a millisecond. It was a battle of will. Move or don’t. Be a Ghost, or be helpless.
Well, when you put it like that…
A hand grabs your shoulder just as you clock the two others standing behind you, waiting silently for any signs of life. The gloved hand moves to the pulse point on your neck, heavy fingers digging into the sensitive flesh. One breath. Two.
And then you jerk up and headbutt one of the soldiers right in the nose. Pushing back the black dots that nearly swallow you whole your hands rip out of the lost chains and throw your body at the man. Grabbing his shoulders, curses and sharp barks fly out over the air, and just before the bullets from their guns rip through you, your broken figure twists to shove the man in front of you. 
Shots make your ears ring, but the spray of blood comes from the Federation soldier you used as a human shield, screams playing in your head like a symphony. Quicker than a switch, you grab the pistol strapped to the now dead man’s waist, and the minute the body ahead of you stumbles and hits the floor, you fire. 
The twin soldiers drop like flies, and the recoil of the gun leaves your weak hand flying back. Clattering to the floor, the weapon stays stationary as you pant and gasp down deep breaths. Blood stains the floor as well as the chains still on the cracked ground, and the vile substance flows from the three men that release death rattles. 
Your shattered mind thinks of a snake’s hiss before the sound divulges into a deep gurgling as you stare with blank eyes. Their forms twitch and jerk, brain dying or already dead.
But there was a spark of pride in you that stayed as your hands slap to the floor, pushing your body up with muffled wails and gritted teeth. You shimmy up to your feet and grab the gun on the way up, looking around as you stumble before righting your shaky legs. 
Looking around dumbly your limp arm pulses, and your mind runs so fast the festering wound on your head feels like cigarettes are being put out on it. 
Someone had to have heard those shots, You reason, and gasp as you walk forward. Your bones don’t feel right. They aren’t supposed to move like that – like they were just floating inside of you not attached to anything. 
Blinking rapidly, your vision blurs as the first shouts spring up from outside. 
Gotta move, Limping heavily you go as fast as you’re able to the warehouse doors, pushing on the metal as sweat falls down your nose.
Your body aches, muscles constantly tightening and then loosening within seconds of each other. It was getting increasingly harder to push back the need to scream in agony as the adrenaline in you seemed to disappear. Taking to breathing out of your mouth to help out your broken nose, you nearly fall onto your face as you shimmy out into the dirt perimeter surrounding the building. 
First, you see the town. Your eyes widen, focus suddenly less on yourself as you take in a sheen of smoke rising up. The raging shouts hadn’t been coming from Federation men rushing to the warehouse – in fact, they were rushing past it. People zip from the corner of your eyes into the treeline, abandoning the houses and buildings with screams of, fantasmas, fresh in the burning air.
Ghosts.
“They came back for me?” Rough and broken, your voice makes you flinch when you finally hear it. Your vocal cords were damaged. 
And they torched the whole fucking place! The gun is like iron in your grasp, heavy and cold. Or maybe it was your hands that were the cold ones? You couldn’t tell, but as you lean back into the metal of the warehouse exterior you smirk, blood breaking out from your chapped lips.
Vision once more peeling out, you drop the pistol and slide down, mind floating far above your form and doing jumping-jacks in the clouds. You don’t know how long you’re slumped like that, neck compressed against your chest as your lungs fight for air, but the next thing you remember is panicked shouting.
“--Found her! Warehouse! Blue Jay, open your eyes!” Your eyebrows furrow as strong hands grip you tight, manhandling your body to the ground so you’re laying on your back, “Open your damn eyes, Kid!”
There’s a sound of frantic breathing before the tearing of velcro. Pressure is put on your shoulder. 
“Ah!” You scream, bearing your teeth and raging at the sensation of firm hands and an unrelenting weight.
“That’s right,” The smooth voice says, “Keep responding, keep making noise for me.”
“Kee?” You ask, only able to half-open your eyes and call out his nickname that you had never actually used aloud before. If possible, the weight is ramped up ten-fold, and you have to wonder if the Ghost is putting a knee up on you to try and stop the bleeding. 
“Yeah, it’s me,” Keegan grunts, and his body comes into view as your eyes clear, though one is more muddled than the other; like a body of water filled with mud. Afternoon light shines off the man’s combat vest and back attire, his signature balaclava looking like it had been messed with and run over with rough hands. His black face paint is patchy and in places streaked. Keegan looked tired, you numbly realized as a chill made you shiver, “Look at me.” 
You were. 
His eyes snap to meet yours, and you’re taken aback by the creases around them; the wrinkles straining his forehead and nose bridge. The color is darker as well, no longer a calm and blank blue but a fiery shade, burning and boiling water. They flash when they already see you looking at him, and his high-hackled shoulders minutely lower as they soften to give you that look that you love. You pray only you’re privy to that look because it makes your shaking hands heat up.
“You have reall–really pretty eyes,” You whisper, voice cutting out, “You know that?”
“I’ll have to take your word for it,” He says, eyes flickering away and scanning your body. Behind the fabric you see his lips pull back in a soundless snarl, “But If you think they’re so pretty you’ll have to trouble keepin’ yours locked on ‘em, right?”
You can’t laugh, so the small exhalation from your mouth will have to do. Your eyelids flicker.
“Hey,” Keegan’s hand goes to your cheek, jostling your head so hard you groan, “The hell did I just tell you, Blue?”
“...Hurts,” You whimper, tears gathering as your lips twitch. 
You can only do so much to push back the inevitable, and every breath feels like someone’s shoving your chest into a table saw. 
Keegan moves one hand from your shoulder and sets it on your cheek, tilting your head to the side, “I know it hurts, Blue, but you gotta keep lookn’ at me, okay? You’re doing good.” 
It was the softest you had ever heard him speak. His finger brushes your undereye and makes your eyelashes flutter open.
“There she is,” He grunts, and with a start, you see he’s pushed up his face covering, the fabric a bundle on top of his head. Your face heats at his handsome visage, roaming his lips and cheekbones, “there’s my girl.”
“I didn’t know if you were going to,” Fluid pools in the back of your mouth, and you cough before you can continue, sprinkles of phlegm and blood spraying Keegan’s attire. He doesn’t seem to care, “come back for me,” Uttering the words weakly, you feel yourself speak as if separate from your own body, a willing participant watching just beyond the way of sight. 
Keegan’s eyes narrow, face pulling closer unconsciously as if he were trying to shield you with his body from the gunfire far off behind him. Across the field, familiar voices had started to ring out.
“Why the hell would you think that? What kind of dumbass made you–” He stops when your eyes sneak away in shame, numb lips pulling down as tears make your sclera red. A pause ensues before a deep sigh falls from his lips; Keegan taps his thumb on your cheek until you look back at him. His face is tense, but a blatant surety is in his tone, “I would never leave you behind. If you had trouble figuring all that out until now, then you don’t anymore. Got it?” 
“Copy, Sarge,” Your eyebrows soften, body going slack and loose. Keegan’s hand is so warm, “You know...I really would have liked to go out on a date with you.” 
Eyes going out of focus, your head lulls before Keegan can rip you back to the present with his deep words just as the ground reverberates under you. They say the sense of hearing is the last to go, and that rings true, because the last thing you remember is Keegan’s voice yelling your name so gutturally that you almost miss Merrick’s voice. 
“Blue! Shit, Elias, we need Med Evac down here, now! She’s down!”
The Med Ward was just how you remembered it, but the man sitting in the chair near the window was new. You were no stranger to the alcoholic scent of the rooms, the blinding overhead lights, and the coarse bed sheets. Around your body, the tight bindings restricted you from sitting up and walking, so for upwards of ten minutes you had stared at Keegan’s figure. 
He was sleeping, in nothing more than a black T-shirt and cargo pants. His head was tilted to the side and his arms crossed over his chest; legs out and crossed at the ankles as his combat boots rest on the tile. You should wake him up. You should, but you haven’t and probably won't. Keegan’s dark hair is glowing in an early morning light, making it glow amber and cover him like a halo. 
The pillow under your head is hard, uncomfortable, and stinks of bleach, but instead of worrying about it, your mind was running over what you had said before you passed out.
“You know...I really would have liked to go out on a date with you.”
Fuck me, Cheeks heating, your eyes flicker down his body, catching his veiny arms and watching his chest steadily rise and fall. Had you really said that? 
Your head begins to hurt, and not only from the tight bindings and the gauze pad around it. 
“You’re staring, Little Blue.” Gasping, your eyes widen in their sockets at the sleep-dipped tone. 
Keegan’s eyes slide open fluidly as if he were never asleep in the first place. His head moves to right itself and stare directly at you, blinking slowly. Locking gazes, you freeze as your jaw goes slack – it was a good thing you were on pain meds because otherwise, your ribs would be aching at the way your breath halted. Stuttering, you let the room lapse into silence as he watches you. Keegan’s lips flicker into a smirk. 
Standing he stalks over to you and drags the chair behind him. Getting about a foot or two away, he stops and flips the chair forward carefully before sitting down once more. Keegan leans forward and puts his elbows on his knees as you watch. 
“...You feeln’ alright? Need me to get the nurse?” He has black and blue under his eyes, colored iris’ strained. Keegan was a man of few words – his actions always spoke louder; like how he let you keep his knife, or told you to go to bed when you were up late shooting. 
At that moment the cold Ghost’s hand went to your arm, lightly brushing over the bandages and pauses to see if you register any pain. When he doesn’t see any discomfort, he settles his grip and runs his fingers over your skin. 
You blink. 
“I’m good.” The words come out breathlessly, and where his touch continues to rove, sparks light under the skin.
Keegan’s soft sigh enters the cold air, and his gaze flickers to the floor for a moment. His jaw clenches, like there was something in his head that refused to come out of his lips. The man’s scream still haunted you – how he yelled your name so raw and vulnerable. You had never heard something like that from him, not even when he had to have you stitch him up one time during a mission.
I’m never letting you anywhere a needle again, He had said with his face flushed of color. You really were bad at sutures. 
Smiling to yourself, you lift your hand with every bit of cotton sticking to your brain and shimmy it out of his delicate grip. Not wanting to hurt you he pulls back and looks with wide eyes at what you were doing. 
“Kid, I don’t–” His comment is halted when your fingers graze his cheek, just the tiniest hint of stubble making your fingers itch perfectly. Freezing like a bird, Keegan’s sights are set on you, confusion bleeding into this expression as his lips pull into a line. 
This was stepping a line you hadn’t crossed before, but you didn’t really care all that much. 
Caressing his jaw, your hand cradles his face. To your surprise, Keegan leaned into you, tension leaving and body going slack like putty in your grip; a second later, his hand comes and encompasses your own, molten heat radiating into your bloodstream. Your heart skips a beat when his eyelashes flutter closed. 
“Tired?” You ask, slightly amused.
“No,” Keegan grumbles, face blank, and you flinch as a laugh barks from your lips. Not a good idea. Weaving his fingers so he can grip your hand more tightly, he peels you from his face and opens his eyes. 
Watching you and clocking your emotions, he lays your hand to his lips and lays a gentle kiss, lips moving over your skin as he places another right after. You’re surprised you don’t catch on fire – especially with that look on his face.
How could a man so cold be as gentle as he was with you?
“You worried the boys,” He says when he pulls back but still holds your hand close, “Ajax nearly strangled Elias to get him to hurry up and go after you.” 
Smirking, you hum, “And you? Were you worried, Kee?” Teasing with the nickname, you watch as a small smile forms over his face, eyes lingering so beautifully on your visage.
“No,” You raise a brow at the bare answer, but he wasn’t done, “I was damn near terrified.” Licking your lips, you watch him track the motion, and he rises and leans closer to you, “What gave you the right to make me feel like that, Kid,” His breath fans over your cheeks, and your eyes flutter when his nose caresses your own. You can feel his eyes bore into you, unrelenting as they look over every pore and mark. 
Keegan’s lips whisper over yours. 
Yes, Your mind sings at the contact, and a small whimper falls into the air. 
“...Who gave you the right to make me want to be yours?” All but growling the words out, his lips descend onto yours, firm but still gentle. He would never hurt you, even if he wanted to feel you against him. You were injured, and that reality never failed to leave his head.
So for now, he would kiss you as if you were the most delicate of glass; worship your skin and bestow on it everything he couldn’t say. 
As you both move together, his hands come up and grab at your jaw as your own travel to rest on his chest that looms over your own, mapping out the dip of his muscles and the way he shivers when your nails rake into the fabric of his shirt. 
This was what you had wanted, to feel him move over you and flex as your fingers go to grip at his hair. 
Pulling back, the man pants in breath with you, lips were swollen. It was quite the sight, and you swore you felt your pupils dilate just by staring at him. Keegan hums deep in his chest and then places his forehead gently to your own – careful of the bandages and, most likely, stitches that live under there.
“I lost your knife,” You whisper out, and almost cringe at the needy tone of your voice. Were you really this infatuated with the man? …You already knew the answer to that question.
“Don’t worry about it,” Keegan grunts, and keeps the knowledge of the fact that the blade was already paced back in your room by his own hands to himself, “I’ll make sure you pay for it when you’re well enough to be discharged. Can’t have my Blue Jay leaving weapons behind, now can we?”
It’s safe to say you prayed for a speedy recovery, just like how poets of days long past wished for a gentle rain or mist-filled morning – if only to have something to quietly worship. 
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ender--slime · 2 months ago
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AAAAAAAND PREORDERS ARE CLOSED!
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holy shit!! thank you all four million bajillion times THANK YOU for the overwhelming support!! the total order count came tooooo…
FIVE HUNDRED ORDERS!! 500!! EXACTLY FIVE HUNDRED!
WAYGH!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!! THATS CRAZY!! Thank you so much!!! This is so much more than I could have ever imagined!! I’m so so happy and grateful for the support!
SO!! What now?
GETTING THE BAGS MADE
It will take about TWO MONTHS to get every bag made, and then they get to be shipped to my house where i will…ship them all out to YOU. Um. Yeah. Nearly 500 bags. in my house. to ship out. one by one. i feel like markiplier with his tasteful calendar years ago. except he had to sign fifty THOUSAND and i’m only packing 500. so. actually it’s nothing like that and i get to SUCK IT UP!!! and look at the calendar in question on my wall for emotional support....please be patient with me while i do this!!! this will take me probably another couple of months just to get every single one out there!! but it will be done!! one day i’ll probably pay like. a fulfillment center? to do this for me? i’m kinda new to this. if that wasn’t super obvious… and then, after that…
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Some changes moving forward:
PRICE INCREASE
Boo sound effect, tomatos, i know. But i got such overwhelming support for this project that um…well, i have to pay taxes on it! Essentially this became my real life job in a very short amount of time! I have to make myself an LLC now?!? I’m incredibly grateful for the support, but this does mean I need to make sure I can actually afford to keep doing this. or else the IRS will fucking GET ME. Like seriously. It could get really messy really fast. I have to pay taxes all by myself now. And this means a slight price increase for future editions of the bag. The base price will increase from $40 to $50! Shipping will stay the same. This does not come without some slight upgrades, though!
BAG UPGRADES
The strap is going to be longer in future editions (by what measurement i’m not sure yet- i will do some experimenting and figure out an ideal length!) and I will also see if I can order straps separately so that any Pink and Purple bag owners who would like an even longer strap can buy an extra one without having to buy a new bag! The bag strap length is okay right now, but I got quite a few requests to make them even longer- so I will do so!!
The inside pocket will be slightly modified to be looser fabric instead of the super tight zipper pocket. Can’t fit much in there. It will hopefully still have a zipper, though! I’ll workshop this a bit before I do the next batch!
If anyone has any more suggestions for future batches of the bag, please do let me know! If it’s within my (and the manufacturer’s) power to do, I definitely want to try!!
NEXT BATCH?
The next batch will be YELLOW and BLUE!! Hash fans unite!! You got your poll win eventually!! After yellow and blue, I’m planning some funky ones! Black, and…well. something else!! i’ll come up with one to go with it!
The black ones are pretty fuckin cool, and I can’t wait to show you all! I have two ideas for Black bags that i simply cannot decide between so i’ll probably have to put it up for a vote next summer!!
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Okay, that’s all for announcements today!! Thank you all so, so, SO much for the support, and thank you in advance for your patience!!
WHERE DOIN THIS MAN… WHEre makin this hapen :)
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livwritesstuff · 8 months ago
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i’ve been very quiet so srry - my week started with my annual performance review (which went well) and ended with an emergency surgery (also went well) so…a lot going on to say the least
this is a deleted scene from the first chapter of plant a seed
When Robin called, Steve and Eddie were in the phase of newborn parenthood where they froze every single time the phone rang (because said newborn was napping more often than not and when she was, there was a 50% chance minimum the phone would wake her up).
So when Robin called and the ringing of the phone broke the otherwise peaceful silence, Steve froze and he waited. When the baby didn't wake up, Steve exhaled a sigh of relief and answered the call.
"This is Steve."
"Hey Steve-o!"
Steve immediately recognized the voice as Robin's – of course he did, even if he hadn't heard it since she and Nancy left for a work trip in Japan a little over a month ago.
“Oh shit,” Steve said, because this means that Robin and Nancy are finally home, finally back in their Boston apartment fifteen minutes away from his and Eddie's in Cambridge instead of the opposite side of the entire world, “You’re home!”
“Yep,” Robin replied, popping the P, “That plane was a million degrees, I’m pretty sure. No more August flights if I have any say in it. Anyways – wanted to let you know we made it back unscathed. What’s new with you guys?”
“Uh…” Steve began, not totally sure where to start, because Robin didn't know about the baby he and Eddie had been placed with two weeks ago and she certainly didn't know that they're going to adopt her (because they'd landed on that decision that very day – about two hours ago, to be specific), “Well–”
“Hey, do you still have those placements?" Robin interrupted, "The kids who like to read the Goosebumps books?”
“Oh,” Steve blinked, “No. They went back with their mom a couple days after you left.”
“Damn. Been a while. Forgot this trip was longer than usual – wait, so are you between placements now, then? Hey, we should finally make that trip to P-Town!”
"Might need a raincheck on that," Steve said with a laugh, because at the moment a trip to the goddamn grocery store required at least a day's worth of planning, "We've got another placement right now – a newborn. We've had her for, uh, for just under two weeks, pretty sure."
“Shit, a newborn?" Robin repeated.
Steve faintly heard Nancy's voice, though he couldn't make out exactly what she was saying. He listened as Robin recounted to her what he'd just said, then started to laugh.
"Nancy just said that if she misses out on a chance to hold a new baby, she'll kill you," Robin told him, "Any idea when she might move on?”
Steve paused for a second. He and Eddie had decided earlier that they wouldn’t be telling anyone about the baby until the adoption was finalized, but…it’s Robin. 
He doesn’t think he’s ever kept a secret from Robin before, certainly not something this big and certainly not for very long.
He has to tell her.
“We’re, uh, we’re actually adopting her.”
Robin was silent.
Then –
“Holy shit – Steve.”
And then –
“I’m coming over right now. Immediately. Wait–” Robin stopped, “Damn, I can’t be a dick and come over unannounced anymore, can I? Because you guys have a baby. A baby. And she’s gonna be yours? What the fuck? Wait, let me start over.”
Robin paused long enough to take a deep breath.
“Steve Harrington – my best friend who’s finally fulfilling a lifelong dream of becoming a dad – when will you allow us to come and be formally introduced to our niece?”
Truth be told, Steve wouldn’t say no to a visit from Robin and Nancy that day (especially after the our niece comment), but their case worker had just started faxing over all the paperwork to get the ball rolling on the adoption process and Steve has a feeling that he might catch Eddie trying to fill that shit out as it came out of the machine so tonight they might be a little occupied.
"Tomorrow?" he suggested.
"Morning?" Robin added.
Steve laughed, "Sure. Tomorrow morning."
"Bright and early, dad. Holy fuck, I can't believe you're a dad."
"You can't?"
"No, I totally can."
264 notes · View notes
worth-the-chaos · 10 months ago
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Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 14
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Chapter Summary: Nancy and Robin take a shot in the dark and Steve tries to protect you from the supernatural. When the darkness comes to get you, will his love be enough to protect you?
Content Warning: Upside Down scary stuff, swearing
Word Count: 6.0k
Author’s Note: Sorry this chapter took longer; I’m involved in a lot at college and I’m in some executive positions in the organizations I’m a part of and somehow everything is going wrong at the same time (yay!) so I’ve been putting out a lot of fires (like a girl boss of course). I hope you all enjoy this chapter!
Message me to be added to the taglist and get updated when the next chapter is posted!
Series Masterlist | Part 13 | Next Part
***
“Do you guys understand any of this?” Steve asked Lucas and Dustin as the three of them sat in the Wheelers’ basement. He was staring at the words on the article Nancy and Robin had found and none of it was making any sense to him. He was scared. Not knowing what was going to happen to you and when was tearing him apart and he needed to understand so that he could find some way to fix it. To protect you.
To save you.
A chill ran down his spine as he thought about it. He thought back to the way you had stood there, locked inside your own body and twitching slightly as you were trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t wake you from. He thought back to your activities afterwards. How you felt when he had shown you just how much he loved you. The way your body moved against his. He thought about how you were all he ever wanted—no, needed—and he couldn’t bear the thought of living a life without you in it.
“It’s pretty straightforward,” Dustin stared at him judgmentally.
“Oh, ‘straightforward’? Really?” Steve asked, not adoring the condescension in the freshman’s tone.
“So far, everyone Vecna has cursed has died, except for this old Victor Creel dude that Nancy found. He’s the only known survivor. If anyone knows how to beat this curse, it’s him,” Dustin explained. Steve could see a glint of optimism in the young boy’s eyes and he desperately wished he felt the same way. This situation just felt so hopeless though. How the fuck were they supposed to combat an otherworldly threat when the attacks were occurring cross-dimensionally?
“That’s assuming he was even cursed, Henderson, which we just don’t know,” Steve spat back, frustrated with the lack of answers. “How could Vecna have existed in the 50s? It just doesn’t make sense.”
Steve dragged a hand down his face in an attempt to keep his frustration at bay. He snapped his head up when he heard your voice lilt down the stairs, getting closer as you descended them.
“As far as we know, Eleven didn’t create the Upside Down; she just opened a gate to it,” you specified as you joined the group. Steve was quick to throw an arm around your waist, pulling you into him. Now that you knew that your time may be limited, Steve was extremely touchy. It was as if he thought that holding onto you would prevent another vision. You knew better, but still leaned into him, soaking up the comfort of his affection. You flushed as you remembered your activities from last night, desperately wishing that you had more time so that you could have more nights wrapped up in each other’s presence.
“Yeah, the Upside Down has probably existed for thousands of years…millions even. I wouldn’t be surprised if it predated the dinosaurs,” Dustin hypothesized, and you glanced over to see Lucas roll his eyes a bit. You couldn’t help but chuckle. Even at the end of the world, those kids could still make you laugh.
“Dinosaurs? What are we even talking about? Come on Dustin, you can’t just—“ Steve started but Lucas cut him off to refocus the conversation.
“Okay, but if there wasn’t a gate in the 50s, how did Vecna get through? How is he getting through now?”
“And why now?” You added.
“And why then? What he just pops out in the 50s, kills one family and he’s like, ‘I’m good’ just to come back thirty years later to kill some random teens? No offense,” Steve quickly added the last part turning to you as you glared up at him. You rolled your eyes and pulled away from him a bit before reaching into your back pocket.
“I almost forgot,” you said, fishing three sealed envelopes out of your back pocket. “These are for you guys.”
You handed them the envelopes. Steve furrowed his brows as he looked at you confused, studying the sealed letter in his hand. Dustin began to open it but you stopped him quickly. “No! What are you doing? That’s not for now. Don’t open it now!”
“Okay,” Dustin replied confused, stopping his previous movements. “I’m sorry, but what is this?” He held up the envelope and waved it slightly to emphasize his question.
“It’s…it’s a fail-safe,” you answered, your voice small. You caught Steve’s expression fall as you said it and you felt your heart ache in your chest as you thought about how you wouldn’t be able to be there for him to help him grieve. You felt a pang of guilt as you realized you would be the one causing his pain. “For after…you know, if things don’t work out.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, y/n?” Steve took a step towards you and grabbed your hand.
“Steve,” you looked him in the eyes, a pained expression across your face. Before he could continue arguing with you, Nancy, Robin, and Max bounded down the stairs. You all turned your attention towards the girls as Nancy opened her mouth to speak.
“Okay…we have a plan,” she smiled at all of you and suddenly you felt a feeling in your chest that you hadn’t felt in a while:
Hope.
You all quickly moved to sit on the various couches in the basement, Steve sitting next to you with a hand on your thigh as you listened to Nancy’s game plan.
“Than’s to Nancy’s newspaper minions, we are now rockstar psychology students at the University of Notre Dame,” Robin started, handing you and Steve each a folder containing the fraudulent academic files for one Ruth and Rose.
“Nice GPA,” you smirked, looking at Nancy and she smiled back at you. It felt nice to be optimistic for once.
“So we called Pennhurst Asylum, told them we’d like to speak with Creel for a thesis we’re co-writing on paranoid schizophrenics—“ Nancy continued, but Max cut her off, having been there for the whole conversation.
“To which they said no,” the redhead explained.
“But, we landed a three o’clock with the director. Now all we have to do is charm him and convince him to let us talk to Victor,” Robin added on.
“Yeah, we’ve been doing our Victor Creel homework,” Steve started, holding up the article printout, “We’ve got a lot of questions.”
“A lot,” Lucas emphasized.
“So do we. Hopefully Victor has the answers,” Nancy answered.
“Wait a second,” you spoke up, staring down at the file folder in your hand. “Where’s mine?”
“What?” Nancy’s face scrunched up, clearly confused by your question.
“I said, where’s mine?” You repeated yourself, holding up the file folder, your jaw beginning to set as you realized you weren’t being included.
“You’re not going,” Nancy replied, reaching over to grab the file from you.
“I think the fuck I am!” You stood up quickly, pulling the folder out of her reach. Steve quickly grabbed you by your belt loop, rolling his eyes and tugging you back down to sit next to him. You sat in a huff and he quickly pulled the folder away from you. “Hey!”
“Y/n, you’re not going. End of discussion,” he said plainly, handing the folder back to Nancy.
“I can’t do anything here Nancy! Maybe I could help with this asylum director guy….or-or-or I could ask Victor the right questions; I know what it’s like after all,” you defended yourself, but you could tell by the looks you were getting that no one was going to change their mind. Nancy opened her mouth to speak, but Robin spoke up before she could get a word out.
“Look, y/n. It’s too dangerous. Just let us do the heavy lifting, and you stay here where it’s safe.”
“Nowhere is safe, Robin. It doesn’t make a damn difference where the fuck I am,” you spat. Robin’s heart sank at your words because they were true; it didn’t really matter where you were. Vecna would find you regardless.
“Y/n, if you won’t do it for yourself, would you do it for me?” Steve spoke up. The expression on his face made you break, letting out an angry puff of air before you responded.
“Whatever,” you grumbled, quickly standing up and going upstairs. Your eyes were welling with tears and you didn’t want everyone to see you in your vulnerable state, even if it was completely understandable. Steve started to stand to go after you, but Dustin stopped him.
“Just, let me try and handle this,” the boy spoke up. Steve wasn’t sure why he was letting him, but shrugged. He knew how much you cared about the kids, especially Henderson, so it was worth a shot at least.
“Y/n?” Dustin asked after he had ascended the staircase. He caught sight of you wiping tears from your eyes before you were able to turn away and hide it.
“What do you want Dustin?” You asked, your voice sounding watery as you continued to cry, a small sob escaping your body.
“We’re doing everything we can,” he started, “and I know it doesn’t feel like enough, but it’s the best we can do. And I know you want to be in on all of the action, but I think it’s okay for you to take the backseat on this one.”
“I can’t just sit around here doing nothing,” you cried out, still trying to gain your composure as you turned around, wiping at the tears falling down your face. “I mean, I just…I just want to be out there so-so I can fix it. I don’t want any of you guys getting hurt,” you added, trying to swallow the lump in your throat as you looked at Dustin.
“Then stay here and protect us. Okay? You’ve always done a kick-ass job at it, so be here for us now. The most important thing is that when all is said and done, you’re still here. So let Nancy and Robin sort it out because I know they will. We all will,” Dustin reassured you. You walked over to the boy and pulled him into a tight hug. You still felt guilty about the way he had to grow up so fast, fighting unimaginable horrors while trying to figure out who he was and where he fit in. You couldn’t even imagine what that would have been like at his age.
With the pang in your chest, you felt pain return to your head, groaning as you let go of Dustin and put a hand to your temples. You felt something warm trickle from your nose, reaching up to wipe at it, fresh blood smearing across the back of your hand.
“Y/n, are-are you okay?” Dustin stared up at you, wide-eyed and frantic. You took a deep breath and the pain subsided a little, as you nodded at the boy.
“I’m still here, aren’t I?” You replied, giving him a weak smile in an attempt to hide the many ways you were not in fact okay.
You tried to take your own words to heart as the two of you made your way back down to the basement.
I’m still here.
***
Nancy and Robin had gone off to go try and talk to Victor Creel, leaving you, Steve, Lucas, Dustin, and Max to twiddle your thumbs in the Wheelers’ basement while you waited for answers that likely weren’t coming. You were sat next to Steve and he was running his warm hand in circles across your back as you sat there, head in your hands and foot anxiously tapping.
You were restless. You couldn’t sit here doing nothing; you had loose ends to tie up in case Nancy and Robin’s investigation didn’t turn up roses. You needed to make sure you were ready to leave this world behind, and presently you weren’t.
Suddenly you stood up, causing Steve to jump as he had zoned out, his thoughts drifting elsewhere before your sudden movement had brought him back to the present. You marched across the room and picked up Dustin’s walkie.
“If we go to East Hawkins, will this still reach Pennhurst?” You asked, inspecting the gadget in your hand.
“Of course, yeah,” Dustin replied.
“Woah, why are we talking about East Hawkins?” Steve stood up, taking a slow step towards you. He looked concerned and confused; a brutal combination. You gave him a look that immediately had his anxiety skyrocketing. “No…no! Absolutely not!”
You paused, you and Steve staring each other down as if you were about to have a shootout in an old western movie. Much like reaching for the draw, you slowly reached into your pocked, grabbing the contents before lifting your hand up and dangling Steve’s car keys in between you. His mouth gaped open, his mind not quick enough to process what was happening before you grabbed your backpack off a folding chair and bolted up the stairs.
Steve stood frozen for a second, in disbelief that any of this could really be real before darting after you. “Y/n! Y/n, come back here! I’m serious!”
It didn’t do much to stop you, seeing as you were already out the door quickly pacing towards the familiar BMW. “Y/n…Y/n! Seriously, I’m not fucking joking. I’m not driving you anywhere!” Steve shouted after you as he started to catch up.
“Steve, if you think I’m going to spend what might possibly be the last day of my fucking life in the armpit that is Mike Wheeler’s basement, then you’re out of your mind,” you shot back, still sauntering towards the car. If your life wasn’t in jeopardy, Steve would have thought it was hot; the swish of your hips, the way your hair bounced with each assertive step you took, the way your jeans hugged your ass. But now was not the time to get distracted.
“I don’t think you heard me, y/n. I’m not fucking driving you.”
“Oh I heard you loud and clear, Harrington. But if you won’t drive me, then I guess I’ll have to drive myself,” you said, unlocking the driver’s side door to Steve’s car.
“Um, fuck no!” Steve exclaimed, putting a hand on his car door to hold it shut as you attempted to open it. You whipped around, your eyes shooting daggers at your boyfriend. His face was mere inches away from yours as he leaned on his arm, his bodyweight keeping the door shut tight. You continued to stare into his eyes, your stern expression causing his to break as he sighed and relented, dropping his arm in exasperation. “Fine. But I’m driving.”
You tossed him the keys as you smirked, walking around the car as you eagerly hopped into the passenger seat.
“That was kind of wild,” Lucas mumbled to Dustin and Max who all stood dumbfounded by the encounter between the two of you.
“Yeah, she’s got him wrapped around her finger,” Max chuckled, “good for her.”
The three kids piled into the backseat of Steve’s car and Steve drove off after making sure everyone was appropriately buckled. The radio that was usually always on remained silent, no one really in the mood to listen to whatever overplayed tune was undoubtedly being broadcasted across your small town. You navigated, hesitant to tell Steve where you actually needed to go. You could tell he was nervous, his right hand reaching across the center console to squeeze your upper thigh, needing to hold onto you.
After you had spent a decent amount of time driving, you finally saw the sign you’d been looking for. “Turn here,” you spoke up, clearing your throat uncomfortably as you said it. Steve looked at you questioningly but followed your instructions, slowly turning into the Roane Hill Cemetery.
“I’ll just be a minute,” you assured Steve as you began to unbuckle to get out of the car. He gently grabbed your elbow, stopping your all fire hurry to exit the vehicle. “Steve—“
“Y/n, I get it. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, okay? We all are. You don’t have to go through this alone,” he spoke gently. You turned over your shoulder and saw the sincerity in everyone’s eyes.
“This,” you replied, looking out the car window up the small hill of the cemetery, “this is something I have to do alone.”
Steve nodded, giving your arm a gentle squeeze before letting go and looking at you with sympathy as you began making your way towards the clearing at the top of the hill. When you made it to the top, you took a deep breath as you read the name on the gravestone. Jim Hopper.
You hadn’t interacted much with Hawkins’ Chief of Police much before the Upside Down had entered your life. In fact, though you knew he was an effective cop, you wrote him off as an egotistical asshole, rolling your eyes at his usually irritating antics. However, after all that you had been through together, he became the kind of person you wanted to emulate. He did the best that he could to protect all of you kids. He would do anything to make sure you were all safe. He’d even given his life for it; the ultimate sacrifice.
He was truly a hero. But now he was gone, nothing left of him besides the grave in this cemetery and the memories in your heart. You felt guilt tear through your chest as you noticed that the flowers you had left the last time you came had began to wither and wilt.
“I don’t really know what to say,” you started off, tears beginning to well in your eyes. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t fix any of this. I’m sorry that I couldn’t keep the kids safe like I should’ve. I’m sorry that you can’t be there for El. I’m sorry that you didn’t get to see her grow up…that-that you don’t get to see her smile anymore. Every time I keep telling myself that all of this is over. I-I keep lying to myself and acting like everything is fine and that I’m happy and that everything is going to turn out alright, but I think deep down I know that it isn’t going to be.”
Tears began to stream down your face. “We all deserved to have these normal lives that we always pretend to have, you know? Those kids deserve to have normal lives. They shouldn’t have to worry about monsters underneath their feet and alternate dimensions that want to do them harm. They deserve to have the kind of lives that you wanted them to have, and I’m sorry I couldn’t make that happen Hopper. This all just feels like one big mistake…or-or a nightmare I can’t wake up from. And I feel guilty every time I look at Steve and my heart lets me feel lucky for even just a fraction of a second because if anything is true, we are not fucking lucky.”
You squeezed your eyes shut as you wiped your nose on the back of your sleeve, breathing in a shaky breath as you tried to fight the sobs that your body desperately needed to let out. You felt guilty admitting it, but the happiness in your relationship with Steve did scare you. You didn’t deserve to be happy; you were sure of it.
When you opened your eyes, your heart stopped in your chest. The clear skies that had been there once before were now overcast as fog poured around you into the cemetery. You heard distorted laughter that sounded like it came from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. A chill ran down your spine as you heard a voice ring out.
“Y/n.”
***
Steve looked up the hill towards you. You were still sitting in front of a gravestone and you looked okay enough, but Steve didn’t trust any of it. He had a bad feeling deep within his gut, and he began to unbuckle his seatbelt. “Alright, it’s been long enough.”
“Steve, just give her some time,” Max spoke up. She knew that you were going through some things and knew you needed the space.
“I have, alright Mayfield? I’m calling it. If she wants to be mad at me, she can be fucking mad at me,” he grumbled as he slammed the car door shut, making his way up the hill. Cemeteries always made him feel uneasy, but he was confident that the pit in his stomach was unrelated as he swiftly jogged up the hill towards you.
“Y/n, baby? It’s time to go, alright? I know it’s hard, but we really need to get—“ Steve’s words died on his tongue as he saw you sitting there, unresponsive. Your eyes were rolled in the back of your head and blood began dripping down your nose.
“Y/n? Y/n! No, no, no, baby wake up! Wake up, y/n, you’re scaring me,” Steve’s words were short and shaky as he quickly went to wipe your nose, his first instinct being to take care of you. “Guys!”
Steve yelled down the hill and the three kids came running. Steve continued to shake you, watching as your body jolted around but you stayed catatonic, somewhere else in the moment, no doubt in some terror filled nightmare. A far off whimper escaped your lips and if Steve wasn’t already losing it, he would’ve lost it right then and there.
“Y/n! Please wake up!” Max shouted, snapping in front of your eyes, hoping it would draw them forward and alert, but they stayed rolled back in your head, eyelids twitching and fluttering.
“Come on, y/n. Get out of there!” Lucas yelled, beginning to shake your shoulders too. Steve turned towards Dustin, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.
“Call Nancy and Robin! Just go! Call Nancy and Robin!” He shoved the boy, and he fell backwards, tumbling over as he scrambled to make his way back to the car. He had never seen Steve so desperate before and they had been through a lot together. Dustin felt his blood run cold. This was life or death.
“Y/n, come on baby. I love you, please come back to me!” Steve cried out, squeezing your hand in his, hoping that wherever you were that you could hear him somehow. “Think of all the things we haven’t gotten to do together yet…I mean, we-we have a whole life ahead of us! I want to do it all with you, but you have to come back to me.”
His voice cracked, and when you didn’t respond he began shaking your shoulders again, feeling sick to his stomach at the way your head lolled in every which way, your neck unable to support the weight of it. Your nose continued to bleed and your limbs were twitching. He could see your neck straining and it reminded him of the way you looked as you tried to breathe through a panic attack.
“Y/n! You gotta get out of there!” Lucas shouted.
“Y/n! Please! You’ve got this, come on!” Max chimed in.
Dustin finally came bounding up the hill, dropping Max’s walkman and a bunch of cassettes in front of them that he had dug out of Steve’s glovebox. “Steve! What’s her favorite song?!”
“Why?” Lucas asked, panic radiating from his voice.
“It’s too much to explain right now! What’s her favorite song?!” Dustin screamed.
Steve didn’t need to be told twice, rifling through the tapes until he found the one with a label and his shitty handwriting on it. His hands were shaking as he fumbled the cassette, shoving it into the walkman before quickly and haphazardly placing the headphones over your ears. His hands trailed to either side of your face as he looked at you, his eyes frantically searching your face, hoping that whatever fix Dustin seemed to think he found would be instantaneous.
The cassette tape had all of the songs you guys would belt out in the car when they played on the radio. He loved hearing you sing off key to the songs and the way you’d dance in the passenger seat making faces to fit the lyrics of the songs. He had finally decided he couldn’t wait around for the radio to play all of your favorites, desperately wanting to watch you dance every time he had a chance to, so he made you a mixtape with all your favorites. He was saving it to give you for your first anniversary, which was now four months away. But after all, in this situation, it was either early or never, so he pressed play and Running up that Hill by Kate Bush began to blare through the headphones.
It had been a second and nothing was happening. Your eyes were still rolled in the back of your head and you were still twitching. “It’s not working Dustin!” Steve shouted, his hands falling from your face as he turned towards the Henderson boy. No sooner had he lost contact with you did your body begin to lift off of the ground, your legs coming uncrossed as you levitated out of reach from your friends down below.
“No! Y/n!” Steve shouted. He wished he hadn’t let you go. Maybe if he hadn’t he could have kept whatever was about to happen from happening. He thought back to all of the horrors Eddie had described and he began to hyperventilate. He couldn’t watch that happen to you. You were his everything.
In your nightmare, you were tied up by vines, pressed against some sort of pillar staring straight at Vecna. He kept insisting you belonged there, reminding you of how much danger you put the kids in. You deserved to stay here in this dark and dreary hellscape. You had seen Chrissy and Fred and you felt like you could vomit thinking about your body being contorted in the same way.
“Let me go!” You choked out, hardly able to speak with the vine around your throat cutting off your access to oxygen. Suddenly you heard something familiar as a melody drifted towards your ears, building slowly in the background until the music swelled and nearly became all that you could hear. You turned ever so slightly to your left and saw a glimpse into the real world. Your heart stopped as you watched your boyfriend desperately calling your name, your body hovering several feet above his head.
“They can’t help you, y/n,” Vecna assured you, his crooked hand coming up towards your face.
“You’re wrong,” you choked out and suddenly the vine behind you snapped and you fell forward, breaking out into a sprint towards the tunnel of reality just out of reach. You tried to keep your footing, but you slipped several times on thick red pools of blood, the sticky liquid soaking into your clothes. You tried to ignore it as you continued to sprint. Your legs kept wanting to give up, but you just kept thinking about all you had left to live for and channeled that into your sprint.
You thought about Steve and the life you wanted to build together. You thought about the way you knocked on his door that fateful day. You thought about the way he let you in even though he didn’t have to; the way he changed for you, the way he tried every day to be better for you. You thought about the jokes he told that made you laugh so hard you cried and the way he’d carry you up the stairs when you fell asleep on the couch. You thought about the kisses he’d pepper across your skin whenever he had the chance to. You thought about the way you felt when you were wrapped up in him the night before and how you didn’t want your first time to be the last time. You thought about the way his brown eyes stared into yours, the way they said so much without him ever having to open his mouth.
You were going to look into those eyes again. So you sprinted. Past falling debris, through rough terrain, and towards him.
Towards home.
Your eyes peeled open and you gasped, staring at the tree line in a way you’d never seen it before. Your stomach dropped as you began falling to the ground, plummeting back towards earth. You hit the ground hard, and you were hyperventilating as everyone immediately surrounded you. Steve pushed past the kids and wrapped his arms around you, clinging to you as if you’d disappear again.
“Y/n! I thought I lost you!” Steve cried out as he placed a frantic kiss against your lips. He pulled back to look at you for a second, fear and panic across his face before he leaned in and kissed you again. You were his oxygen and he needed you to breathe right now.
You pulled away, gripping his bicep as you attempted to calm down your breathing. “I’m still…I’m still here,” you reassured him, tears falling from your eyes.
He was quick to wipe them away before he buried his face in your neck, taking a deep breath as he reveled in the comfort of your familiar scent. He placed a gentle kiss against your neck and pulled you towards him even tighter.
You were still here, and he wasn’t going to let anything like that happen ever again.
***
You all had spent the night at the Wheelers’ again, deciding now more than ever it was vital to stick together. Nancy had had to fight Steve to get him to sleep, convincing him that the rest of you were more than capable of taking turns watching you to make sure that you were okay.
“Dustin…Earth to Dustin,” Eddie’s voice rang out over the walkie talkie. Steve groaned as he woke up. He was sore from the way that his body was positioned in the chair he had been sleeping in. He grabbed the walkie off of the coffee table, pressing down the button to speak into it.
“What the fuck do you want Munson?” Steve spat.
“Oh, Harrington. Um, I’m going to need a food delivery, unless you want me going out into the world.”
“Don’t fucking do that. Just stay where you are and we’ll be there as soon as we can” Steve grumbled, sighing as he aggressively went to set the walkie back down, but Eddie’s voice rang out again.
“Hey, can you pick me up a six-pack? I know it’s dumb to be drinking right now, but a cold beer would really cool my nerves you know?”
As Eddie said it, Steve rolled his eyes, turning back towards the couch you were sleeping on, needing to remind himself of your constant kindness to calm himself down. It had the opposite effect when he saw the empty space, you being nowhere to be found.
“I’m gonna have to call you back,” Steve quickly relayed to Eddie before dropping the walkie talkie and bounding across the basement to wake up Dustin. “Dipshit! What the fuck?! You’re supposed to be watching y/n!” Steve spat as the boy finally opened his eyes.
“Yeah…yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“Where the fuck is she?!”
“She’s right there,” Dustin started, but his heart dropped as he looked over and saw that you were gone, “she was right there a second ago. I just dozed off for…an hour.”
His eyes got wide as he looked at his watch and the two boys bounded up the stairs. Steve finally cooled off when he saw you sitting at the kitchen table with Holly. You were helping her color a coloring book page, stopping every once in a while to help her cut her pancake. Steve felt his heart skip at how domestic and maternal you looked, hoping you would all get past this so that he could have the future with you that he envisioned, with perfect little combinations of the two of you sitting at your own kitchen table.
“Everything okay?” Mrs. Wheeler asked. Steve just nodded making his way towards the kitchen table. Nancy had woken up when the boys had not so quietly ascended the stairs and she was rubbing her eyes as she also made her way to the kitchen.
“I think it’s so sweet that you guys are sticking together like this,” Mrs. Wheeler continued, pulling Nancy into a very stiff and awkward side hug that she did not reciprocate.
“You could try sticking together at a different house for a change,” Mr. Wheeler chimed in, not even looking up from his newspaper.
“Hey, are you okay?” Steve asked, sitting down next to you, his hand going to the small of your back.
“Yeah,” you gave him a weak smile. “It’s just kind of hard to sleep after…everything.” You chose your words carefully so as to not let Nancy’s parents in on the reality of the absurdity that was your life. “But Holly let me borrow some of her crayons and we’ve been having a fun morning.”
You smiled at the small girl and Steve felt his heart explode. Nancy stood next to you and spoke up. “Is this what you saw last night? Do you think he’s just trying to scare you?”
“Yeah, but this stuff is different,” you said, gesturing to the drawings in front of you. “I don’t think he wanted me to see any of this.”
“Maybe you invaded his mind,” Dustin suggested, “I mean, that’s what he’s been doing to you, is it that big of leap to suggest that somehow you wound up in his?”
“Yeah, maybe the answer’s somewhere in this incredibly…vague drawing,” Steve added on, holding up a piece of paper and rotating it. “Damn, we need Will.”
“I know, but I tried them again this morning and it’s the same busy signal,” you replied, putting your head in your hands.
Nancy suddenly started reorganizing the papers, folding them and overlapping them until they made an image that made some semblance of sense.
“It’s…it’s a house,” you spoke breathlessly. You weren’t sure how you had managed to draw a deconstructed house considering you weren’t even close to being an artist, but hey accidental accomplishments are accomplishments nonetheless.
“Not just any house,” Nancy looked at you wide eyed. “It’s Victor Creel’s house.”
You shuddered as Nancy and Dustin quickly moved downstairs to tell the others about their discovery. You got up and moved the other way towards the Wheelers’ family room, desperately needing to remove yourself from the oblivious remainder of the Wheelers that were in the kitchen. Steve quickly followed you, gently grabbing your hand as he spoke up.
“Hey, baby…what’s wrong?”
“Steve, I just don’t have a good feeling about this,” anxiety was etched across your face as you said it. He squeezed your hand and pulled you towards him.
“I know, y/n. But answers are good…that means we’re getting somewhere,” he reminded you.
“But that’s the thing,” you started, “just because we’re getting somewhere doesn’t mean it’s anywhere good. Vecna’s smart, he knows what he’s doing. I mean, what….what-what if we’re walking into a trap! What if this is exactly what he wants us to do? We can’t keep just following every thread he gives us. He’s weaving a web, Steve. And if we’re not careful, we’re all going to end up getting caught in it.”
“We have to try though, right? We can’t just give up or else we’re putting everyone—not just us—everyone in jeopardy,” he tried to appeal to your selflessness and world-saving tendencies, but really deep down, he only wanted to follow this thread because it meant they had a shot at saving you.
He dropped your hand, holding his up between the two of you, and you were met with the familiar sight of his extended pinky.
“To saving the world?” He asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Your face relaxed for a moment, your lips breaking into a small smile.
“To saving the world,” you agreed as you wrapped your pinky around his before leaning in and placing a gentle kiss to his lips.
You didn’t like where this was headed, but you could at least give it your best shot. If it meant that you and Steve could have more pinky promises and more soft kisses, then it would be worth it.
You just hoped that it wouldn’t ruin you in the process.
***
a/n: I hope y’all enjoyed the chapter. Reblog to give me a much needed boost of serotonin ;)
taglist:
@season4steve @sassyheroneckgiant @tangledinthegreatxscape @maeve-wileyy @palachannie @chaerfull @usaguisenpaisblog @emilieluckwood @sabrinadelreyy @mochminnie @xprloki @kitdjarin1 @kissmxcheek @daemonskitty @bethsvrse @aheadfullofsteverogers @quinnsadilla @chervbs @sheisjoeschateau @goosy-goose
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blondgirls-world · 5 months ago
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57 Reasons
TW: Meanspo
01. You will be FAT if you eat today, just put it off one more day.
02. You don't NEED food.
03. Fat people can't fit everywhere.
04. Guys will be able to pick you up without struggling.
05. You'll be able to run faster without all that extra weight holding you back.
06. People will remember you as "the beautiful thin one".
07. If someone has to describe you, they'll say "oh she weighs like 90, 100 lbs".
08. Guys will want to get to know you, not laugh at you and walk away.
09. Starving is an example of excellent willpower.
10. You will be able to see your beautiful, beautiful bones.
11. Bones are clean and pure. Fat is dirty and hangs on your bones like a parasite.
12. If you eat then you'll look like those disgusting, fat, ghetto and trailer-trash hookers on Jerry Springer.
13. The models that everyone claims are beautiful, the spitting image of perfection, are any of them fat? NO!
14. Too many people in the world are obese.
15. People who eat are selfish and unrealistic.
16. Only fat people are attracted to fat people. Do you want pigs to like you because you are one of them.
17. Anyone can have "inner beauty" but few can earn real beauty, inside as well as out.
18. You'll be able to move as quietly and skillfully as a spider.
19. Only thin people are graceful.
20. If you slap a fat person you can see a shockwave ripple over their skin. That's disgusting.
21. Do you want people to say "for gods sake get off me you're crushing me!!!" or "you are sooo light" ???
22. Underweight aka perfect body.
23. Ballerina? or beanbag?
24. I want to be light enough so a helium balloon could lift me and carry me to the clouds.
25. I want to walk in the snow and leave no footprints.
26. Starve off the parts you don't need. They're ugly and they drag you down.
27. Nothing cant be fixed with hunger and weight loss.
28. Saying "no thanks" to food is saying "yes please" to THIN!!!
29. Fat people are so huge, yet people look away from them as if they don't exist.
30. The only time people do notice a fat person is when they get in the way of that beautiful thin girl walking by (ok that sounds really horrible i know.)
31. Have you ever seen a person NOT notice a walking skeleton.
32. Nothing tastes as good as thin feels.
33. Is food more important that happiness in life? I think not!
34. Eating is conforming to everyone else's expectations.
35. When you start to get dizzy and weak you're almost there.
36. Hunger is your friend and it won't betray you like food.
37. Food is mean and sneaky. It tricks you into eating it and it works on you from the inside out making you fat, bloated, ugly and unhappy.
38. Think of anorexia as your secret weapon.
39. If you can name one reason to be fat, I'll name a million and one to be thin.
40. Thin people look good in ANY kind of clothes.
41. Food rots your teeth.
42. Puffy cheeks, double chins and thick ankles-- aren't attractive.
43. Fatty areas stretch and sag as you get older.
44. Ever seen the arms of a fat person wave hello or goodbye?
45. Eating little to nothing saves you money!
46. The average (middle class) American wastes OVER $8,000 a year on FOOD ALONE...it goes in one end and out the other. That sure is a lot of fat! No wonder so many Americans are obese and overweight!
47. Fat people make their country look bad.
48. Big people sweat more and they smell bad.
49. Fat people die earlier.
50. You'll be the envy of all the other girls.
51. All of the guys will want you.
52. You're less likely to get food poisoning.
53. You won't be exposed to all the chemicals and pesticides they put in food today.
54. You won't get sweaty on hot days.
55. The word fat will only apply to you in a sarcastic way.
56. No one wants to see a fat person dance.
57. Beauty Queen? or Dairy Queen?
-Fading Obsession: Pro Ana Mia Website plus Forum (fadingobsessions.com)
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faeriemarie · 1 year ago
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introducing my lifa app!!
so if you don't know what the lifa app is... here is my extremely confusing explanation. if you can't understand it, i don't blame you
the basics of my app:
The app is for pc, phone, ipad, and other electronic devices (or on paper in drs without smartphones)
It will automatically appear and it can not be deleted. I know everything there is to know about Lifa and I control the app with absolute ease.
If someone were to go on a device where the Lifa app is on, they wouldn’t be able to see it or tap on it at all. Only I can see it or use it and it is 100% real and 100% effective
The lifa app doesn’t take up ANY storage
Lifa knows exactly what I mean because it is connected to my subconscious mind. It knows what I mean exactly, and all intrusive thoughts are ignored
The lifa app doesn’t need wifi
I can do ANYTHING and I mean ANYTHING with Lifa, no restrictions, and nobody ever suspects that I’m using it
Nothing I search or watch on my lifa app is traceable by anyone but me (not even cell or wifi companies)
There are ZERO CONSEQUENCES to using Lifa and what decisions I make. Nothing goes wrong, everything happens how I expect it to, excluding the intrusive thoughts which are always ignored
No one is ever suspicious of the things I manifest and it’s like I’ve always had them (clothes, food, talents, etc. has always been there)
okay now for the features!!
lifa closet
Any item of clothing I choose from the catalog, script, or import a picture of will be sent to my closet, suitcase, or wherever I want
reality shifting
I can set a time and pick a reality to shift to. I will then shift during that exact time
reality check
I can check which reality I am in with the click of a button
scripter
I can script and write anything. Inserted images are HD, and PNG images remain transparent. I can insert infinite images and change the font’s color and style itself (same features as notes/notion/google docs but neater)
desired scenario
I can specifically script to describe my desired scenario. I can set the time and date to when the scenario happens. The scenario is exactly like how I want and even 1 trillion times better
manifestor
I can insert a picture or describe what I want to manifest. I can also manifest people by typing their name and Lifa will automatically recognize who they are. I can set the time and date to when you want that thing to manifest, and it will happen 100%.
skill increaser
Choose any skill I desire to have (I can also insert it by typing “cooking”). I can choose to master any skill and it will show up immediately. I can search any skill and increase on a scale of 1-100% mastery
motherlode (sims reference lol)
I can deliver/spawn money of any currency in my chosen form. (gift cards, bank acc, cash, etc.) I can choose from coins to bills. There is no limit amount of money or times to deliver it. I can deliver it how much and how many times I want. The money is 100% legal and valid, and passes all money detectors. The money has valid and legal coding, as if it had been made in factories. It still remains perfectly legal. I can choose to spawn the money in my purse, bottom of backpack, pockets, amazon, wallet, etc. The money spawns in 5 seconds. I can deliver/spawn as much money as I desire, there is no limit (even 50 million is 100% possible). There is 0% risk of money inflation
lifa credit card
The Lifa credit card has an infinite amount of money and can never go in debt. There is an infinite amount of money in all international currencies. The card is universal and 100% valid and legal. It can be used in any ATM and online store/game (could be recognized as any official credit card like eg. visa or ae). The money has no money or usage limit, and it can be used for anything, anytime. In ATM machines it appears that the card only has 1000€/$, but in the Lifa app it will be ∞ €/$. If the card gets lost, it will automatically disappear. The same happens if the card breaks, and Lifa will spawn a new card with the same exact info.  It will come inside a little gift box (that matches the app’s color scheme I desire) wherever I want. The card’s number and code (and other infos) are up to me or the universe but it's always 100% valid. The card lasts forever. There is 0% risk of money inflation
lifa bank account
The bank account feature is connected to the credit card feature. It’s almost like a normal bank acc. I can see all mytransactions. The amount of money never changes because it stays 100% infinite. I can change my money’s currency. I can also take money out of the card in my desired currency. I can customize the card’s design and I can spawn more cards. I can easily create more bank accounts too, they will all have infinite money. There is 0% risk of money inflation
lifa paypal/venmo/cashapp/etc.
It is 100% legal anywhere. It is exactly like the real paypal, but my Lifa bank account/card is registered. I can use it in all purchases that require paypal. I can login on the real paypal website with the Lifa paypal acc. When I first use the app I get to create a Lifa paypal account. The balance shows 1000€ / $ / £ but the money amount is infinite. There is 0% risk of money inflation
food delivery
If I insert a picture of a food item or search the catalog, Lifa will recognize. When I confirm, it will be sent to my ideal location. (i can pick the location). The food will be 100% fresh and new
boredom cure
Instantly provides me with inspiration to do something that is productive and beneficial to my overall well-being
create-a-person
I can design a person’s hair, body, face, etc., script their personality and choose their traits. It is set up like scripting and has different templates I can use. I can change skin tone, skin type, undertone, hair color, hair texture, eye color, etc. I can insert any pictures and they’ll be exactly how I want. When I insert a script of the person’s personality and behaviour, Lifa will recognize it. I can also script traits and the person’s backstory. I have to fill in each’s birth info (name, age, birthday, sign, blood type, etc) to my desire.  I can also choose the relationship between the people when I’m done creating them. Then I confirm and once I shift to my dr it will all be exactly like how I wanted and even 1 trillion times better. If I’m feeling lazy, I can select to let the universe fill in the gaps, and the universe will fill them like I wanted and even better
lifa messenger
I can text with anyone in the universe that I want. It feels completely real and all conversations are remembered. It’s like having online bestie because the people I text always get along with me, always respond, and actually care about me. We can also call and video chat. I am not actually communicating with someone from my reality and instead with the universe since everyone is part of the universe. It works exactly how I want it to
natal chart
I can select which life/reality’s natal chart I want to see. Lifa offers a personalized detailed description of my chart and personality. The chart is 100% accurate. I can also select to look at anyone’s natal chart. Lifa will show a list of everyone I know. It is divided in 5 categories (friends, family, acquaintances, classmates/coworkers, celebrities). The natal chart can also show compatibility
grade changer
Automatically makes me have good grades and changed all my past grades to A. My wrong test answers morph into correct test answers
ask-me-anything
I can ask anything and get the complete and 100% right answer. The questions can vary from asking where my lost tennis shoes are to what’s the answer to number 4 on my math homework. There is no limit to what can be asked and the answer given is always exactly what I need
feature adder
I can visualize and script more features and add them to Lifa with the feature adder. Lifa will add these features in 1 second and they will be 100% effective. Lifa also knows exactly what I mean, even if I script something wrong, so there are no surprises
lifaflix
A streaming site where I can watch shows that only exist in my dr (most of the time used for fame drs so i can see all the great acting projects i have been a part of). I can also watch my drs like tv shows.
lifatube
A video site set up like YouTube where I can watch anything from my dr. Things like fan edits, compilations of dr moments, my dr tiktoks, youtube videos made by my dr self and more. I can also watch memories/anything that happens from either a 3rd person point of view or 1st person
lifa socials
My lifa app has social media accounts from all my different realities that i can flip through, post from, dm with people from those realities, and go live (i can post anything i want on these social media sites and i’m immune to anything bad happening like leaking nudes, screenshots, hacking, or any other cybercrimes/bad things). My wr self even has their own account
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that-one-gay-aew-enthusiast · 4 months ago
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𝚂𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝚂𝚙𝚘𝚝 - 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚔/𝙰𝚍𝚊𝚖 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚝
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______。o*★*o。______
Warnings: derogatory terms towards reader ,mention of abuse, mention of eating disorder, descriptions of gore, panic attack, character death (not frank or reader) Word count: 12.4k (nervous laughing) Genre: fluff + angst Summary: Frank clearly devleops a soft spot for one of the other members of the crew, getting quite protective over her at times Pairings: plussize!reader x frank A/n: I don't care what anyone says, I think that Frank is secretly a softy and would get protective of someone he likes (especially if the pairing is "Tough guy frank x sweet adorable girl")
Proof read?: haha your funny.
______。o*★*o。______
taglist : @bizarrescribblez @creelmalfoylaufeyson69 @fizzyfazzy420 @lilyevans1 @endofradio
______。o*★*o。______
"For those of you who don't know, I go by Lambert, you all came highly recomended and so far those recomendations are paying off. You know the rules. No real names. No backstories. And keep the grab-ass to a minimum. It is a 24 hour job, and the hard part is already over, now you babysit. But the only one that sees the girl is this one." He points to the dark haired woman in a trench coat. "So she only hears one voice. The rest of you, get comfortable. Questions?"
The dark haired woman speaks up. "Yeah, whose the girl?" Lambert replies quickly. "You don't need to know her name." The dark haired woman keeps pushing. "I don't care about her name,....whose kid is she?" Suddenly a third voice pops up behind you. "The fucks that matter to you?" It's the man with the glasses, the man who you feel like has been staring at you all evening. "A very wealthy man who's about to be 50 million dollars poorer." The dark haired woman accepts the answer. "Look, your safe here, and to be completely certain you can't be tracked, i'm going to collect your cellphones." Lambert goes to each one of you, collecting your phones, the blonde haired hacker refuses slightly before Lambert snatches her phone from her hands.
"Keep the doors locked, and the girl isolated. Is there anything else i can do for you before i leave you to it?" Now the larger man speaks up. "Uh how come we can't use our real names?" He speaks up again from behind you. "So if any of you fucks get caught you can't rat out the others." The driver and same large man mumble something to each other. "You want names? Fine. Frank." Lambert points at him. "Dean." Lambert points at the driver. "Sammy." Lambert points at the blonde woman. "Peter." Lambert points at the larger man. "Joey." Lambert points at the dark haired woman. "Kyla." Lambert points at you. Lambert goes to give the last man a name before he speaks up. "Damn, this man got his finger of the pulse of pop culture." Lambert rolls his eyes. "And your Don fucking Rickles, happy?" Rickles shrugs. "Not really." Dean mumbles again. "There's clean bedding and lit fires in the rooms. Kitchens fully stoked ,as is the bar. So, i'll see you in 24 hours my lovely pack of rats." And with that Lambert leaves shutting the door behind him and leaving the rest of you to go explore.
About 30 minutes after Lambert had left, and you had all found individual rooms to settle in, the crew acculumated in the bar. You sat on the edge of the pool table sipping a glass of rum watching the fire blaze. Joey was sat in an armchair not too far from you next to the fire. Sammy, Peter, Rickles and Frank were around the bar sipping thier drinks and chatting. And then there was Dean, who had somehow found a bike and was riding round the room like a child. You were deep in thought when Rickles suddenly spoke, catching your attention. "Come have a drink with us Joey?" She shook her head. "Gotta check on the kid soon. Maybe after." Dean stopped dead in front of you, looking at Joey. "Party pooper." You gave Dean a light smack on the arm. "Don't be a dick." He smacked his lips and carried on riding round the room.
"Hey, who do you guys think this girl's father is anyways?" You looked over at Peter who was now pouring a drink. Everyone started sharing their ideas, Joey suggesting it was "America's dad, Tom Hanks." After everyone gave a small chuckle, their gazes turned to you. "What about you Kyla?" You looked from swirling the dark liquid in your glass to feel Frank's gaze burning holes into you, unlike the rest who were actually just looking at you intrest. "Uh, bussines owner i guess?" Dean scoffed. "Your so boooooooooring." You pulled a digusted face and flipped him off.
He rolled his eyes and screeched up to Joey who had a small paper bag of candy in her hand that she quietly picked from. "Lemme get a piece of that candy." Joey glanced up at him with a small smile. "Get your own." Dean lightly raised his eyebrows. "Fuck you too,....you grew up with a bunch of brothers and sisters and shit......i'm like an expert at reading people. Joey raised her eyebrows. "Oh really?" Dean nodded. "You like a nanny or a babysitter." Dean then went on to describe each of the crew members in his little visions, describing you as someone neglected as a kid ,someone who wasn't taught how to take care of their body. "Wow, you might be the least perceptive person i've ever met." Dean looked at you puzzled before Joey joined in. "She's right, you got literally nothing anywhere close, about anyone."
You gave a small chuckle going back to your drink before Frank stepped foward and right next to you as he looked through his wallet before slamming a 100 bill on the edge of the pool table next to you. "Crisp 100 dollar bill you can tell me one true thing about me." Everyone went quiet before Joey passed. Frank gave a small chuckle before going back to his drink. You were about to sip your drink when Joey got up and stood where frank had just been. "You used to be a cop." She snatched the money from the table. You tilted your head. "Did he arrest you or something?" Sammy said from her spot at the bar. "No, it's the stance, the walk, the shoes, not to mention the standard issue glock, the shoulder holster and he used police hand signals back at the house." You rasied and eye brow and started listening more intently. "Not a street cop, no, too smart, you need to be in control." For some reason that little point sent a small shiver up your spine. "So i'm gonna say a detective, homicide or vice? And he tries to hide it but he's from Queens."
Peter chuckled and gave a small clap, before pulling out his own 100 dollar bill. "Hey, uh you do me too?" Joey looked at the muscular man before taking the money. "I almost feel bad taking this.....'cause you've basically got a fucking neon sign above your head that reads muscle." Peter continued smiling and flexed his muscles making you cringe and look away. "Quebec right? You got bullied in school, probably by dad too, so when you got bigger than everyone else, you turned the tables. Made it into a career." Peter's smile faded slightly as joey turned to Sammy who was now holding up a 20. "Wow, a 20? That's cheap considering you come form money." Sammy excitedly nodded. "It's true." Joey tilted her head slightly. "Which means your only in on this for the thrill, you don't get your hands dirty, you use a keyboard instead of a gun and tell yourself that makes whats you do not as bad,..... good luck when the illusion wears off." Sammy nodded again. "Very good."
She handed the 20 to Joey who now walked over to you and Rickles. She looked at Rickles first. "No money." Joey nodded slightly. "Then i'll leave it at 'semper fi', and you?" Joey leaned on the pool table next to you. To which you reached into your shirt and pulled out a 50, holding infront of her with you pointer and middle finger silently. Joey looked down at the note and started. "Mom wanted to put you in pageants as a kid, so limited you diet to leaves and water, but once you got away from her, you overate out of spite, now it's become a habit you can't stop, and you can't forgive yourself for it." You looked at the floor avoiding everyones eyes as an awkward silence filled the room.
Joey stepped back to the arm chair when Dean broke the silence. "Ay you forgot about me?" Joey cut him off. "You dont want me to do you." Dean looked at her slightly offended. "Aw, c'mon this is fun!" Joey looked at him and sighed. "Your not a professional." Now Dean really looked offended. "I'm the best motherfuckin wheelman in this town-" Joey cut him off. "I didn't say you weren't good, i said your not a professional. You've got.....loose wiring. Probably a sociopath." Joey walked to the door, ready to go check on the girl when Frank stopped her. "And you....are a junkie." Joey stopped in her tracks and everyone including you looking at Frank who was once again stood right next to you, but now had his hand mere inches from your thigh.
"Cop knows a junkie, you and your little candy affectation, long sleeves, why you don't wanna have a drink with us." Franks waltzed over to Joey who had now turned round to face him, as he removed his glasses and pulled out a small black clothe. "You in recovery or something? How many days you got? We gotta be worried about you?" You heard Joey's voice catch in her throat. "N-no." Frank leaned a bit closer to her. "No?....Don't ever fuck with me, i will know." Joey's posture stiffened up again. "I'm gonna go check on the girl." With that, Joey made her quick leave, Frank turned round and shrugged to the rest of you.
Sammy ,Peter and Dean started chatting by the bar, Rickles played pool by himself. You got up off the pool table and headed over to a group of leather seats surronding a glass table. You sat down with your back to rest of them and reached into your pocket, pulling out a silver ipod and some black earphones. You placed an earbud in and pressed play. You sighed and slumped down in the chair before feeling a smalltap on your shoulder. When you glanced over your shoulder you saw the surprisingly kind looking face of frank, smiling down at you with a half filled whiskey glass in his hand. You smiled back and sat up, patting the arm rest for him to sit.
"Hey you've been pretty quiet all night, somethin' bothering you?" You hesitated before nodding. "Just a bit nervous, never done something this big before." Frank nodded sipping his drink. "You'll be fine, we aint getting fucking caught, and even if we are, ill make sure non of those fuckers rat you out." You smiled slightly at him. "Frank are you saying you like me?" He flashed you a grin putting his glass down and shifting closer to you. "Im saying i like you back sweetheart." Your eyes narrowed looking up at him before he gave a small chuckle. "You think i havent noticed you stealing glances at me all night, or that i havent seen how your breathing picks up when i-" He suddenly placed his hand by your thigh, closer than he did earlier ,smirking as your breathing once again picked up. "Do that." You felt your cheeks heat up as he stood up, turning to walk away. "So shall i pretend you havent been staring daggers into me all night either?" Frank stopped and smirked and looked over his shoulder at you. "You could do, or your could acknowledge that ive been staring you because of that cute personality and thick hips, let it boost that deflated ego of yours."
As Frank made his way back over to the bar, you turned back around to face the glass table, smiling to yourself at the fact that Frank was being a genuinly thoughtful and sweet man to you. He had noticed that you had some, well quite a few insecurities, and instead of ignoring and feeding them, he gave them positive attention. You kept replaying his expressions and words in your head, so when Joey walked back into the room and sat next to Frank at the bar, you didn't notice her. Howver you did notice whne Frank suddenly got up and walked out the room. You frowned and went over to joey. "Hey whats up with Frank?" Joey shrugged. "God knows with him." You hummed in agreement before pouring another drink and sitting on the pool table again.
Rickles came over and you got chatting to him, when Frank suddenly came back into the room, grabbed his leather trench coat and started heading to the door. Joey got up from her seat following him, as did you. "Im out, cut my share how you want but im not fucking staying here." You and joey kept following and questioning Frank ,till he stopped just before the entrance, turned round and snapped at you both. "What's going on is that we are fucked. That little girl is kristoff lazar's daughter." The rest of the crew started to come into the lobby right as he said that, however whereas other people started to turn pale, you were with Sammy. "Whos kristoff lazar?" Frank turned o look at her dumbfounded. "Who's Lazar?" Dean walked over nonchalantly. "Bro thats a urban legend man calm down." Frank turned to the joint smoker ready to strangle him. "No dude, he is not a fucking urban legend. He is very fucking real believe me. Nobody even knows how big his fucking empire is." Frank started pacing and running his hand through his hair whilst your turned to Rickles like a confused puppy and asked about lazar, to which you got an explanation which made your blood run cold.
"Is Lambert fucking insane? He just put a death mark on all of us, including himself." You started to fiddle with your fingers, feeling your breathing get tight. "What if we just like.... yknow, give her back? And say sorry?" You turned to Sammy. "Sammy i dont think thats how kidnapping from someone dangerous works." Frank shook his head turning round. "Oh yeah, heres your daughter 'Mr fucking Antichrist' really sorry, hope she's not too traumatised. Lets play a round of golf sometime." Sammy narrowed her eyes at frank then promtly flipped him off. "This isnt the time for sarcasm ok?" Frank looked down at his feet and sighed. Suddenly joeys eyes lit up. "Lets just leave. We leave her with some food, make an anonymous phonecall, get the fuck out of dodge. It's not like shes seen our faces?" Everyone started nodding in agreement before Frank interupted her. "Uh actually she has, thanks to you." Joey raised an eyebrow. "I was supposed to be the only one in and out of the room, and i wore my mask." Joey crossed her arms as Frank walked over to her and looked down at her. "Well I didn't! So i walk in there and see Billy fucking Elliot's cute little peepers memorising my fucking face!"
Everyone else's eyes turned to joey accusing and blaming her. "And it's not even like the rest of us could leave since joey told her everything about us." Frank held his jaw shaking his head. "You ust had to do your little magic trick." The air grew tense, so tense you could phsically feel it. "So if leave her we dont get none of that kidanpping money? I kinda need that money right now." Dean raised a good point. "How much do you trust lambet?" Frank glanced back at joey. "I trust him enough, but that doesn't make it worth the risk though."
"If 7 million per person isnt worth the risk then what is?" You leaned against the book case watching frank as he took off his glasses and held his head. "Alright he wouldn't of had us kidanp this kid unless he thought we could pull it off. Maybe we all just pretend like we don't know who her father is, and with the money we are making from this we just disappear forever, hmm? Start a new life, and i never have to see any of you fucks again." Although you knew Frank was grouping all the rest of you together and he was clearly stressed, the feeling of never getting to see him again hurt you. "Everyone stay alert. Any threat is gonna come from outside, so we set a perimeter and we hold it. Rickles takes first watch in the crows nest. Joey, secure the interior, look for anyways in or out. What is it like, 22 more hours? 22 hours,... fuck." With that everyone split off, leaving you in the lobby.
You continplated going against the plan and walking out, the door was right behind you, the girl hadnt seen your face, the information joey had given about you wouldnt help track you, you could vanish. However there was something that kept your feet firmly in place, you knew exactly what that thing was aswell. You knew it started with F and ended in k. So instead of wlking out the door, you headed to the far corner of the house where you had found a room to settle in. You reached into your pocket to pull out your ipod again when you heard faint loud noises. They sounded like Dean, they sounded like him....screaming. Although your heart told you to stay put, your legs were up and moving to the source of the sound. You made your way through the halls quietly when you made it to the kitchen, but it was dead quiet, yet you swore this was where the sound came from.
You grabbed a large kitchen knife to arm yourself and started looking around, on the opposite side of the kitchen was a door, you pushed it open slowly. "Hello? Dean are you in here?" You walked through the door and looked round the dark room, it seemed to just be an old storage room and the lowest stop of an elavator that most likely didnt work. After deciding there was nothing in there, you headed back to the kitchen but gasped when you got to the door as dean was now sat in a chair with his back to you. "Dean i know your a dick but is this really the best tim-" As you scolded him you walked over and gave him a shove before freezing as his head rolled straight off of his shoulders. You stared down at it for a moment before letting out a blood curdling scream. You dropped the knife and backed up to the sink shaking as your chest grew tight. Moments later Frank ran into the room holding his gun. He looked down at Dean's head, the up at you, to see you bent over the sink gagging and throwing up the alcohol you had earlier. Frank made his way over to you and held your hair back whilst giving you soft and sympathetic words. Once you stopped throwing up, you looked up at him with teary eyes, to which Frank's face softened before he pulled you into him ,rubbing your back and hushing you.
As you buried your face in Frank's chest, the rest of the crew rushed in, all of them pulling disgusted face and cursing under their breath. "The fuck happened?" Joey looked at you as you pulled away from Frank sniffling. "I heard screaming, looked round, saw him in the chair and when i touched him,....that happened." Joey looked at the bod before narrowing her eyes. "Be honest what does that looked like to you?"
"It looked like a fucking wild animal ripped him apart." Joey gave a subtle nod of her head at frank who started pacing. "No, no no, I'm not fu-, we're not fucking going there." You started to fiddle with your fingers again as sammy came over and wrapped her arm round you. "Why are you all acting so weird?" Joey sighed and leant on the table. "There's stories, about lazar's hitman."
"Can we not do this? Please?" Seeing Frank this worried most definatly didn't comfort you one bit. "Valdez." You rested your head on Sammy's shoulder as Rickles started. "I heard a story once, 3 of Lazar's top guys got pinched a few years ago, FBI flipped 'em. The night before the trial were all hauled up on the top floor of a hotel. A dozen agents in the next room, and two in the door. The next morning FBI goes into the room. All they bodies were ripped apart. Limbs, and organs missing. Decapitations. Thats his signature, Valdez, he's a fucking animal. And there was no way in or out or that room aside from the front door and the 23rd story window. So how'd he do it?"
"Bullshit." Sammy piped up before Frank shut her down. "It's not fucking bullshit. It's not the first time i heard that story." You ran your fingers through your hair nervously. "We should probably check on the girl. You nodded and all made your way up to Abigail's room. Once up there, Frank and Joey went towards the door and creaked it open to check if the young girl was still there and alive. You, Rickles, Peter and Sammy stayed a little bit further back when Peter started talking about splitting Dean's share to which Sammy scolded him for. "You welcome to my share Pete, you could be the richest headless man in america." Right as Frank and Joey came back over, Rickles started heading back downstairs. Like before with Frank, everyone followed, only to see that when Rickles opened the front door, there was a metal gate covering the exit. Rickles tried ramming but it was no use. Then peter tried, again, no use, you were all trapped. Trapped in the house with the same monster that killed dean, yet you had no clue where, or worse, who Valdez was.
Before anyone could say something ,suddenly wodden shutters began to rise and cover all exits. Now you really were trapped. Rickles picked up a wooden chair and flung it at one of the covered windows only for the chair to fall to bits on impact. Rickles panted before his eyes widened and he took off upstairs again. "If this is Valdez, maybe he checked on the girl and left her there to throw us off." Joey nodded before heading upstairs to go check on abgail. The rest of you headed to the bar area and tried to distract yourselves. Although however hard you tried, all you could think about was Valdez ripping you to bits, or draining you of your blood till you were as pale as a ghost.
You quickly got up and headed to the bathroom, locking yourself in it without warning. The others watched and heard the lock, it was clear you werent just using the bathroom. Peter shook it off and started talking to sammy as Frank stared at the door before getting up and going over to it. He pressed his ear to the door and heard you hyperventlating through broken sobs. He gave a small knock on the door. "Kyla? It's frank, can you let me in?" You sniffled before slowly turning the lock on the door. The door pushed open and you saw Frank look down at you with a worried and sympathetic look in his eyes before he clicked the door shut. You looked into his for a second before turning away from, embarassed by your current state. "Hey, hey look at me. Please?" His voice was soft and reassuring, you slowly turned back around and looked up at him. Frank crouched down slightly to come to your level and held your hands.
"Listen sweetheart, im not gonna let anything hurt you, alright? Not Valdez, not any of those other schmucks. Nothing is gonna hurt you while im around, ok?" You nodded and squeezed his hands. "I-i just don't wanna die, not here, not like this, any other way than like this, i mean its not like i have much to go back to, but still, i cant die not ye-" your sentence was suddenly cut off at the feeling of Frank's soft lips crashing agaisnt yours. Although this stunned you, you didn't pull away or push him off you. Instead you wrapped your arms round him and hummed softly into the kiss. After a few seconds, you both pulled away, your face now noticably redder, and Franks with a cute grin spread across his lips. You just looked into each others eyes for a good 30 seconds, Frank's were full of admiration and perhaps lust, before his hands snaked round your waist, pulling you against him. He leant down, the faint remains of whiskey still evident on his breath as he whispered in your ear. "How about, after me and you get out of this fuckin' hellhole, we get to know each other a bit better maybe properly grab some drinks,......or try out each others beds." You bit your lips slightly before the feeling of Frank's hands sliding down your back, over you ass and grasping the back of your thighs sent a shiver down your spine.
He lifted you up and placed you on the batheroom counter carfully as you admired the soft yet attractive look on his face. "I-i'd like that quite alot." Soon enough Frank's hands moved from your thighs and used his thumbs to wipe away the tears that remained on your cheeks as he held your face. "Atta girl." He smiled and winked cutely before lifting you off the counter. "Now if you wouldnt mind i do actually need a piss after the drinks earlier so." He gestured towards the door and you nodded leaving the bathroom, blowing him a kiss as you did."
After hearing the lock again, you turned round to see Sammy stood behind you smirking with her arms folded over her chest. "Kyla, have you Frank got a little thing going by any chance?" You went slightly pale, went to say something but sammy cut you off. "Actually don't answer i already know the answer, not like you two were hiding it when he walked away from you smriking in here earlier, or when we came to see you after you screamed, you were so cuddled up to him!" You let a small smile creep onto your lips at how Sammy was adoring you and Frank together. "Mhm, like how youve been flirting and giggling with Peter all night?" Suddenly Sammy went pale herself before you looked over her shoulder to see and slightly stunned Peter looking at the two of you. "Sammy has been flirting with me?" You smiled at how cutely naive Peter was and how red Sammy had gone.
Sammy came up with an excuse to leave the room and headed into the main lobby. You got chatting with Peter before suddenly Sammy was being ushered back into the room at gunpoint by joey. Peter looked at the scene concerned. "Don't point that at, Sammy Joey." Joey briefly pointed her gun at Peter then at youas a warning. "Where. The fuck. Is frank?" You reluctantly pointed at the bathroom door. Almost on que, said door opened with Frank coming out the bathroom mumbling to himself before he looked up and widened his eyes slightly, putting his hands the air. "H-hey Joey, what's going on?" Joey kept her glare firmly on Frank. "Why'd you do it?" Frank tilted his head, confused. "Do what?" You glanced between Joey and Frank nervously. Frank had literally just swore you wouldn't get hurt, that he'd protect you, how could he do if he was dead? "Bring us here to kill us."
You, Sammy and Peter all looked at Frank in surprise at the accusation, Frank narrowed his eyes and poked the inside of his cheek with his tounge. "Don't do it Peter." All of you looked at Peter who was still just stood there, before turning back around to see Frank had pulled out his gun, which was now pointed at Joey. "I don't know what the fuck your talking about but you don't sound very calm right now little miss paranoid, so forgive the precaution. You guys know what the fuck she's talking about?" You and Sammy shook your heads, peter tried to give more of an answer. "I think she thinks you brought us here to kill us." You sighedpinching the bridge of your nose. "Wow. Fantastic insight Peter. Care to share whats on your mind Joey?" Joey tightened her grip on her gun. "You're Valdez." Frank looked rather offended at this. "You told the girl. You killed dean. and you just killed Rickles."
"I didn't tell that girl shit-"
"Bullshit!"
"Wow you got a lot going on up there junkie, but your brains not quite putting together huh? You let a little girl get inside your head? Your not as smart as you think you are. But the girl, she's fucking inspired, turning us agaisnt each other like this." Joey's eyes narrowed. "I believe her." Frank sighed before glancing at Peter. "I hate to say it but i think well have to get rough with her." Peter sighed before putting his glass down. "I'll do it." Joey tensed up before glancing at Peter who was heading for the door. "Dont take another fucking step Peter."
"Is just my job Joey."
"Look i just wanna get to the bottom of this. Yknow my team is dropping like flies, and well, our guest has besmirched my good name, and i take that very personally yknow?" Frank gave a small nod and Peter took off running. Joey sighed taking one last look at Frank before running after peter. Frank joined the line and started following Joey with his gun still raised. You and Sammy looked at each other before also following. By the time you both got there, Joey had her gun pointed at Peter, Frank had his gun pointed at her and Abigail was sat on the bed, frantically asking Joey questions about what was going on. You watched as the three of them started arguing before Sammy gave your shoulder and tap. You looked at her then where she was looking.
Abigail, now not looking so innocent or frightened, cracked her hands and slid them out of the cuffs with ease before standing up on the bed. "Guuuuuuys!" The other three turned their heads to abigail right as she bowed down, covering her face with her arms. "What the fuck, how the fuck did she get outta those cuffs?" Before anyone could say another thing, Abigail dropped her arms and screamed, revealing that she was a vampire, and most likely valdez. Curses filled the air before the little monster pounced onto Peter's back and raised her head back to bige him. Just before she could however, Frank shot her in the head. She dropped to the ground and Peter rushed over away from the corpse. Well so you though, because mere seconds later, Abigail sat up and wiped the blood from her forehead, revealing no wound.
Sammy and Peter quickly left the room, Joey and Frank started shooting at Abigail but you just froze. Right as Joey and Frank backed up to the door, Abigail turned her gaze to you. She started charging at you before Frank's strong grip on your arm pulled you behind him, allowing him to shoot one more shot at abigail before slamming and locking the door. Frank backed up, keeping you behind him before the rest of you rushed down to the lobby where peter and sammy were catching their breath. "We kidnapped a fucking vampire!"
"Someone has been messing with us since we got here right? Its gotta be uh, uh some kind of trick." Joey turned round looking at him. "You know anyone who could pull off a trick like that?" Sammy held her head. "I feel sick."
"At least Valdez isn't here?"
"The fucking girl is Valdez Peter." Peter looked at Frank confused. "I thought her name was Abigail?" Frank just sighed mumbling his fustrations, when suddenly the banging from Abigail's room stopped. You looked up and round. "Now what the fuck do we do?" You said rubbing your arm. "Well what do we know about vampires?"
"What are we talking about like an anne rice, or trueblood, twilight, very different kinds of vampires?" Joey then started listing all the basics about vampires, soon Sammy and Frank Joined in, all while Peter stood aside telling the rest of you to "Shut up!" But when he said it one too many times, Frank walked over and wrapped his hand round peter's neck. Although you knew this was not the time, all you could imagine was Frank's hand your neck. Thankfully the red on your face could be easily mistaken for being oit of breath from the running. "Hey dum dum, we got a real fucking situation here. So i dont give a shit what you think. Either your helping us, or your 270 pounds of dead weight. Which is it?" Peter looked down at Frank and with what air he had, confirmed he would be helping. He then grasped Frank's wrist and forefully removed his hand from his neck. "Just don't do that again."
Despite the fact that Frank had a man that easily could beat him up, towering over him, he still maintained control. "There's pool cues in the games room, go sharpen 'em into stakes." Peter nodded slowly before walkin g off to the game room as instructed. Frank then gestured to sammy with his gun. "You, go check the kitchen for garlic." Sammy raised an eyebrow. "Alone?"
"Yes alone!" Sammy threw her hands up before heading of to the kitchen. "Ill go see if i can find anything." Joey went off to look, leaving you and frank. He let out a big sigh and swept his hair back before looking at you. You had a small cheeky grin plastered across your lips. "What? What's so funny? Hmm?" The sight of your little smirk did put a small smile on Franks face aswell. "I know Peter said he doesnt want you putting your hand round his neck." You went over and tugged on his jacket to bring him down so that you could whisper in his ear. "But, I'd happily let you put it round mine." You took a step back to see Frank trying to hold backa smile. "Oh is that so princess?" You nodded before letting out a small gasp when he gave your ass a smack. You giggled and were about give his lips a peck when Sammy burst into the room, mesh bag in hand.
"Got 'em!" You took one look in the bag and covered your mouth with your fingers to conceal a giggle. "Sammy, those are fucking onions." Sammy, looked at the bag and furrowed her brows. "Well i dont cook, i dont know." Peter walked back in, pool cues in hand. Uoey walked back in, empty handed. "Right, lets go kill us a fuckiing vampire." Frank started heading towards the kitchen before Joey stopped him. "I'm staying here." You all looked at her dumbfounded, before Frank asked what you were all thinking. "And why the fuck not?"
"You said it yourself, this girl is smart. shes been manipulating us from the start. We dont know if any of this stuff is gonna work, and even if it does, killing her would be the stupidest thing we could do." Frank sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He did no have the energy nor the paitence to argure right now. "Fine. Whatever, go put your feet up." Frank was about to start walking again when he looked at you. "Hey sweetheart, how about you stay down here with Joey for ,e? It's safer here than making you come with us ok?" You nodded and stepped over to Joey. "You two on me. Fucking onions." Frank led Sammy and Peter to the ktchen as Joey brought you to the game room where her bag was.
You got sat down, as did joey as she checked her guns ammo. You started to fiddle with your fingers nervously when you both looked up, hearing swan lake playing faintly from above you. "That cant be good in any way." Joey shook her head before rootingf through her bag. You glanced over at her. "You got some special anti vampire antidote in there or something?" She then pulled out the second anaesthetic syringe smiling. "Something like that."
After a few minutes you heard the others coming back down, and it didnt sound good, Frank was yelling ever curse under the sun and Sammy and Peter werw whimpering in pain. You and Joey headed to the bottom of the stairs to see Frank with a makeshift stake through his right thigh, Peter had a bloody chest and Sammy just look very out of breath. You quickly helped Frank into a chair and held his hand. He managed to stop cursing for a moment, well kind of. "I swear if you fucking say i told you so." He aggressivly pointed at Joey who rolled her eyes and walked over and grasped the end of the stake. She went to pull it out, before you shoved her away. "Have a fucking heart Joey. Just go Check on Peter." She looked surpised at your sudden asertivness but did so as you turned to frank who had his head tipped back trying not to cry and he groaned in pain and cursed some more.
You got him to look into your eyes as you gripped the stake. "Frank, count down from 3 for me ok?" He nodded and got to 2 before you quickly ripped the stake out. Frank keeled over, once again cursing as you reached in Joey's bag beside you and pulled out enough gauze pads and bandages to help the wound. Once you wrapped the wound, you stood up, pulling Frank's head forward so her forehead rested on your chest as you kissed the top of his head. His arms wrapped round your waist, pulling you closer to him as you stroked his hair. You smiled down at him before Sammy cleared her throat. "You two done cuddle fucking so we can go through the new plan." You raised an eyebrow before Frank flipped them off.
Joey explained that you would all split up lookin g for Abigail and whoever found her, would alert Joey who would jab Abigail with the syringe. You disscussed who was going where before starting the hunt. For the 15 minutes there was nothing. However Sammy started cutting out but you still make out her screaming about bodies in the pool. Joey started rushing towards the pool when Peter started screaming about the "Vampire on his ass." Wonderful.
Once You and Joey checked on Sammy, who now stunk to high heaven, you all headed to the east stairs where you saw Peter laid omn the ground anmd Abigail stood on Frank, choking and taunting him. Your blood ran cold and before you knew it, you were dragging the little vampire off of Frank. She somehow managed to knock the syringe out Joeys hand and behind a gate as she flailed around in your arms. Unfortunatly she managed to get the upper hand and kicked you backwards onto frank as sammy grabbed her from behind. You sat up with Frank in time to see Abigail sink her teeth into Sammy's arm. As a result, Sammy shoved Abigail towards you and frank. He quickly pushed you away from him, letting abigail grab his ankle at start to fly, dragging him with her.
You got up to stop her, but Peter came out of nowhere and tackled the girl to the floor, holding her under him as you pulled Frank back towards the stairs, before he pulled you behind him panting. By now you were all screaming at Joey to get the syringe before she finally grabbed it and rushed over, sticking it into Abigails arm. Abigail started screaming and cursing at all of you before she finally went down. You all sat back panting before Peter raised a good point. "What do we do with her now? She wont stay like that forever and clearly the cuffs are no good." You thought for second. "I've got it, next to the kitchen is a storage room and a dead elevator, we could lock her in that." Joey nodded as Peter picked up abigail and carried her down to the elevator.
Once Abigail was layed in the dead elevator with the gate sercuely locked, you and Frank headed into the kitchen and sat at the table whilst Peter stayed with Sammy and Joey as Joey bandaged up the bite mark on Sammy's arm. You were bouncing your leg whilst deep in thought when Frank's hand gently layed on shaking thigh, catching your attention. "You alright sweetheart?" His worried eyes met yours, before you smiled softly placing your hand on his. "Just thinking dear, you can relax a bit, im not made of glass and i can defend myself." He smiled slightly and kissed the back of your hand.
Before either of you could say another thing, Joey called you over to the elevator as Abigail was once again awake. She rattled the bars of the gate, pretending to plead with you all before shut it down and Abigail went back to her demonic self. "Your really good at pretending to bne a little girl." Abigail gave a small curtsey. "Thank you, had a few centuries of experience."
"Tell us how to get out of here, and we'll let you go." You looked at Joey slightly concerned on whether she was serious or not. Abigail smiled and shook her head before Sammy came storming foward, having to be held back by you and Joey. "Hey! What's gonna happen to me?"Abigail shurgged. "Am i gonna turn into a vampire?!" Abigail thought for a seond. "Maybe?" Sammy looked between her and Joey for a second before pacing back and throwing her hands up. "Oh my god! She said maybe!" Peter stood back and tried to comfort the ditressed blonde. "Listen, little lady, or ma'am, whatever. We're very sorry, ok? We didnt know who you were, we thought you were just some fucking regular 12 year old girl."
"You were gonna beat me and torture me, when you thought i was just a regular 12 year old girl?" Frank was about yo contiue before you stepped foward. "Yeah and we still have good reason to, so i suggest you shut your spiky little mouth sweetheart." Abigail raised her eyebrows at you. "So you do speak, i thought all mouth did was eat." You narrowed your eyes, not taking the comment to heart. "Listen here you little brat, as soon as i get my hands on you, im gonna drive 100 stakes through that rotten little heart of yours-" Frank pulled you back. "Alright that's enough Kyla, Abigail, look. Like i say, we're very sorry, we would never of taken you if we knew who your father was."
"You did work for him didnt you?" All eyes turned to Frank. "Havent you wondered why i brought you all here?"
"You brought us here?" Abigail held her forehead cursing under her breath. "There was never any money, i planned all of this. Lambert works for me." You and Frank let out a sigh of disapointment. "What are you talking about?" Abigail turned to Sammy. "Don't you know, Jessie?" Your eyes flicked between Abigail and Sammy. "What did you just call me?" Abigail chuckled before continuing. "Jessica Hurney.You started your career siphoning money from your affluent parents’ bank accounts. Hedge funds came next,then private offshore accounts,and eventually, much bigger fish. One in particular." Sammy went slightly pale before clearing her throat. "I can give it back." Abigail pretty much ignored her as she turned to Peter.
"Terrence Lacroix. Muscle for the Montreal Broussard family. Did it bore you, snapping necks for pay? Enduring endless taunts from your colleagues about your stunted intellect? Is that why you stole from your crew, who just happened to be a tiny subsidiary of our empire? How long did the money last, you weak, disloyal inebriate?" Peter stayed quiet as Abigail now turned to Frank.
"Former Detective Adam Barrett. You thought you could infiltrate our New York arm under deep cover. But you liked the life a little too much, didn’t you? The power you had when you were free of rules and regulations. It became an addiction. How empty did you feel when you finally arrested our three lieutenants you’d worked so hard to get close to? And how empty did you feel after I ripped up their bodies in the hotel penthouse because of you? You changed your name, you left town, and you never saw your family again. But it wasn’t for their safety, was it, Detective Barrett?" Your blood ran cold as Abigail mentioned he had a family, that he left, he wouldnt do that to you right? Right?
"We have the tragic Ana Lucia Cruz. Former Army medic drummed out of service for shooting up Uncle Sam’s morphine. You tried to take care of your son, before abandoning him to his fuckup of a father. You became an underground doctor for some very shady people. But one day, you were just too high to do your job, and instead of removing a bullet, you nicked an artery, and someone very important to my father’s business bled out. But you and Detective Barrett have something in common. You never went back for your son."
"Shut the fuck up!" Joey's words fell on deaf ears to you as Abigail turned to you smirking. "Finally, we have the pathetic, seemingly innocent, Y/n, Y/m/n, Y/l/n. The woman who not only allowed, but watched as her mother was murdered. You played the victim when the police arrived, and managed to walk away with 20 grand as inheritance. And that grew into a habit didn't it? You learned by acting differently around different people, you could get whatever your greedy heart desired didn't you? But little did you know, before you were even born, your mother had part of my fathers top advisers, how do you think she afforded to give you your luxury childhood hmm?" You now had tears threatening to spill from your rage filled eyes as you glared at Abigail.
"That woman was evil, she didn't care about me in the slightest, she deserved every second of it!" Frank pulled you towards him and rubbed your back. "And what do you tell yourself huh? That you wanna be your daddy's little errand girl? No, he did lose intrest in you, that wasn't a lie. How many of your fathers enemies do you think your gonna have to kill, until he loves you again?" Abigail's smirk dropped and she stayed quiet. "If this is about revenge, why didnt you just kill us? Why did you bring us here?"
"Because it isn't. This is just a game to her."
"Bullshit, she was screaming at the house, and dad triggered the alarm."
Joey tilted her head. "That wasnt even her father. That wasnt Lazar. And for what? Because your fucking bored? For your fucking entertainment?"
"What can i say? I like to play with my food. Your the same as all the other meat sacks ive brought here over the years, nothing different about any of you, nothing special. Just something to help me pass the time." Joey narrowed her eyes. "Quick question, whos in a cage right now?" Abigail's smile faltered for a second. "If you let me out, ill let two of you live." Peter looked at the rest of you for a second before looking back at abigial. "Which two?" You quickly turned to hum. "Peter what the fuck?"
"It's a surprise." Frank pulled his gun out. "Fuck this, lets just kill her now." Abigail smiled evily at him. "You tried that Frank, if you would like to open this door and try again, please do." You rolled your eyes. "God she's annoying."
"My offer just expired. Now i'll only let one of you live, whoever lets me out." Your eyes glanced over at Peter who had tensed up before he pulled his gun out and pointed it at Joey who did the same thing, pointing it at Peter. "She's fucking lying moron, you touch that door your as dead as the rest of us." Peter nodded his head to the side. "Maybe it's worth a try." You clenched your fists nervously as Joey tied to talk him out of it. "We have her Peter, that's why we did this, so we could trade her for our lives."
"That will never happen, Joey was right, no matter how many of you i kill, my father doesnt love me and hes not gonna trade anything for me. So go on Peter, let me out." Peter looked at the lock of the door for second then back up at joey. "Peter if you touch that door i will shoot you." Despite the warnings both Joey and Frank had given him , Peter still slowly reached for the lock before Joey aimed her gun lower and shot Peter in the hip. He yelled out in pain as you removed his gun from his hand. "Cmon, let me go patch you up, Frank, Kyla, help me out, Sammy watch her." Sammy snorted before shaking her head. "Fuck that shit." Joey was about to arugue before Sammy spoke again. "I'm not staying down here with that, fuck that shit joey." Joey sighed before glancing at Frank, he nodded as you and her helped Peter out of the room and to where her bag was.
Frank sat down groaning and took off his glasses to pinch his nose. By now his head had started throbbing from the extensive stress and blood loss. "The offer still stands Frank. Open the door and ill let you keep all your blood." Frank chuckled lightly and looked at her with an 'oh really' face. "Organs too." Frank looked down at his lap shaking his head. "Im serious. You could be useful to us."
"Why don't you, tell me, how to get the fuck outta here,... and ill consider it." Abigail raised an eyebrow at him. "If i told you, you'd just leave me here. You first." Frank put his glasses back on and gestured with the stake in his hand. "You know what? My offer just expired. Have fun spending eternity in a fucking elevator." He started walking away when Abigail piped up. "Wait. Ill tell you. But you have to let me out immediatly after i do." Frank stopped and slowly turned back around. "Alright, fine. It's a deal."
"There's a secret door in the library, the bookshelf on ghe right wall, and then there were none." Frank smiled and hummed. "Very good, thanks." Abigail tilted her head. "Wait, a deals a deal." Frank spun on his heels. "Oh right, the deal. Aint i a silly billy?" Abigail gave a fake smile as he walked over and held the key. He half turned the key before turning it back again, taking it out and letting it drop onto the floor. "Still guilable at your age? You fucking freak." He chuckled looking down at the bloody girl before she start giggling manically. "What's so fucking funny?" Abigails face turned dead for second before she shoved the door off it's hinges, sending it and Frank flying back.
You and Joey both heard the bang and looked at each other before both running down to the room. By the time you got there, Abigail was stood over Frank. She looked up at you both before smiling and kneeling down on Frank, grabbing his collar. Joey quickly grabbed Frank's stake off the floor and busted open some wooden boards. Daylight shone threw the cracks and right as Abigail reared back her head to bite into Frank's neck, the light hit her arm, causing it to explode. She screamed out in agony and crawled backwards away from the light. You quickly ran over and helped Frank to his feet, his face now covered in blood. You all bolted out the room, the last thing you saw was the bone in Abigail's arm starting to heal and regrow. You all ran up to Sammy and Peter, and frantically told them to follow you to the library.
Once everyone made it there, you slammed the doors shut and put a chair under the handles. Joey and Peter were stood in the sunlight catching their breaths but Sammy stood just out of it. She slowly put her finger into the light, and when nothing happened, she smiled and stepped into the sunlight, practically bathing in it happily. "Looking for some light reading Frank?" When you looked over Frank was intently looking at the titles of the books on she shelf. "Shut the fuck up." Suddenly his finger stopped on the spine of one book. He looked over at the rest of you smirking. "And then there were none." He pulled the book down, expecting something to happen, but when nothing did happen, he started angrily cursing and knocking all the books off their shelves before limping over and throwing his stake onto the gorund as he sat down on the steps holding his head.
"You good?" Frank removed his glasses and wiped some blood from his face. "So what the fuck now?" Frank looked up at Joey panting. "She was already healing, you and Kyla saw it aswell. Keep an eye on the door, stay in the light." You all watched as Joey started looking round the library. First she looked up the fire place, then headed to a wall by the door. She knocked on it and pressed her ear against it, before back to you all. "Grab something, we can break through this wall." You tilted your head before stepping towards her. "Look Joey, we dont even know what's behind that wall, it could quite literally just be a hole in the wall they boarded up, its not worth wasting our energy on. If you want to try and break into the wall, go ahead, but i don't think any of us have the energy to spair at the moment." Joey looked over your shoulder to see Sammy, Peter and Frank all giving her the same expression, an expression that agreed with you. She crouched down and picked up a fire poker before coming back up to your level, noses almost touching before she spat out a "Fine".
You sighed as she headed back over to the wall and started beating at it. You layed on the top step with you head in Frank's lap, if you were most liekly gonna die in the next 24 hours, you might as well enjoy what time you had left. Frank's, thankfully not bloody, hand soon found hair and stroked it soothingly. Neither Peter nor Sammy seemed fazed by you and Frank, by now it seemed normal to them. You started getting lost in thought when Peter's voice broke you from your thoughts. "Kyla, what did Abigail mean about you watching your mother die?" You turned you head to the side to look at Peter. "What's it matter, the story will die with me in the next 24 hours anyways?" Frank's hand stopped in your hair for a moment. "Well if you are gonna die, you might as well share the story one last time sweetheart." You looked up at Frank who was smiling down at you.
You thought about it for a second before sighing. “Honestly she deserved every second of it. She made my childhood, my life a living hell. She genuinely thought that if she bought me all the expensive toys, dresses, material shit, she thought that it all made up for the fact that she starved and endangered me, just so that I was pretty. Y'know as i got older, i started realizing what she was doing, we argued about it more and more. Then one night, the week after my 17th birthday, we were giving each other the silent treatment after another fucking argument, I was sat on the floor watching some movie, she was sat in her chair, probably texting some younger guy to hook up with and there was this, client. She had severely pissed him off and he snuck into the house,and he….he stabbed her 18 times, right in front of me, all while she screamed for me to stop him. A-and I just sat there, and I watched, smiling. The police arrived about 10 minutes later and I acted like I didn't see it happen, got away with my inheritance and went on with my life, like nothing had happened. But the thing was, i feel like, like if that fucking derranged guy didn't kill her that night, i feel like, i-i wasnt far off of doing it myself."
Your voice cracked a couple times before you shook away any regret for what you had just said. "Shit. Didn't expect that from you." Your eyes moved up at met the surpirsed gaze of Sammy. "How long ago was it? You sat up and leaned agaisnt Frank who wrapped his arm round you. "7 years ago now." You held Frank's hand when you heard Joey grunt loudly and throw the firepoker onto the ground. She walked over, sat by your feet , reached into her pocket and pulled out her paper candy bag. However when she dug her fingers into, there was no more candy left. Joey scrunched up the bag in her hand and rested her head on her hand. "Aw you ran outta candy?" Sammy looked at Joey before getting up and walking over, taking a seat next to her. "Im scared."
Joey looked at the blonde before offering her smile and rubbing her arm. "Was that true, what she said about your son?" Joey looked down before nodding. "But i got clean. I was gonna go back for him, that was-, is the plan." Sammy nodded. "That's good, how often do you get to talk to him?"
"I try calling him, i just, i can't do it. That's why i took this job. With that money i can, start over yknow? Reset."
"Boohoo. Fucking bullshit. It's not about the money, the moneyys an excuse. You didn't go back for your kid because you scared youll be a piece of shit mother. God everyones gotta be a fucking victim nowadays. Aww 'i left because i was on drugs. I was on drugs because i got hurt.' Own your fucking shit and go be mother to that kid." Sammy and Joey looked at him almost in shock. "Oh im sorry, did i hit a fucking nerve?" You gave him a smack and shook your head when he looked at you confused. "Honestly Joey, for what it's worth, i think youll make a great mother, you cant be any worse than mine was alright?" Joey smiled at you and gave a subtle thank you.
Suddenly Sammy's eyes widened before stood up. "Reset. I don't need to hack the locks i just need a power source. And if i have the power source we can just, short it." Frank scoffed. "What so you'll just unplug the house?" Sammy nodded before Joey got up. "Ok we search the house. 2 teams. And we don't stop till we find it." You got up, a sense of hope rushing through you. "Well who's going with twilight here?" Peter got up holding a reflective silver tray. "Ill go with her, i uh, saw your reflection in this earlier." Sammy smiled and took the tray from Peter's hand, using it as a mirror. "Oh my god im filthy!" Peter chuckled and she dropped the tray as they began to walk off. You, Joey and Frank looked at each other before getting up and going to look yourselves.
You all started looking round an old decreped room of the house that hadnt been touched already during your stay. Although he knew you probably didnt need it, Frank still stayed close to you. You pulled some vines off of a wall with your torch in your mouth but found nothing. Joey split off down a near by corridor to expand the search whilst Frank helped you continue to search the large room you were in. You glanced over at Frank and smiled to yourself. "Yknow something?" He turned to look at you, blinding you with his torch for a second before lowering it. "Yeah?" Yousat down on the base of a statue looking up at him. "I always used to dream of dating a cop." Frank chuckled before shaking his head. "Look sweetheart, i know i used to be, but im nowhere close to being a cop anymore. I left that life behind me."
"Like how you left your family?" His eyes suddenly shot up to see yours were no longer happy, but filled with disapointment and maybe even fear. Frank shook his head and was about to explain himself but you just held your hand up before pushing yourself to your feet and walking over to him. "Frank? Be honest, are you gonna do that to me?" Frank quickly shook his head and held your face between his hands. "Listen, my ex wife and kid, they didnt want me around, they didnt love me, they practically threw me away so i them away with my old life, but you, you're nothing like that. I'd rather burn alive then leave you. You're so beautiful and so sweet, and i promise, i will never. Ever leave you, ok?" You gave a small nod before he leaned down and planted a loving kiss on your lips."
You smiled and were about to throw your arms around him before Sammy's voice came over the comms. "She's on the east side!" Frank immediatly took your hand and started running towards the area where Sammy and Peter had gone. He accidentaly bumbed into Joey, giving the three of you a quick scare before continuing to make your way over. You managed to get there quickly, and stopped at the doorway of the long room. It was a long thin room with overgrowth coverinng most of the walls. Along one wall of the room were windows covered mostly by boards, allowing sunlight to shine through and bounce off of the few marble statues dotted round the room. And there at the other end of the room, was Sammy, knelt down infront of Peter's bloody body. From what you could see, he had a chunk of his throat ripped out and bloody spilling out of the open wound.
Sammy started to charge at you before Joey quicjly grabbed the silver tray from the floor and held it above her head, angling it in the sun so that the light hit the reflective surface and bounced off straight onto Sammy. Her body immediatly exploded, sending a gallon of blood and guts splattering onto the three of you. Thankfully you and Frank had raised your arms, and Joey still held the tray, so not much blood got on your faces. However it still drenched your hair and clothes. You all slowly lowered your face shields slowly, shock and horror plastered on your faces. Joey dropped the tray and stumbled back slightly as Frank removed his glasses and looked round. You cursed under your breath and leant agaisnt a pillar. "That was fucking,... woah." All three of you just kind of stood there for a few seconds, too shocked to know what to do next. "Now what do we do about the real fucking problem?" Almost on que, a small creaking turned all your attentions to a bookcase that had swung open to reveal a secret passage.
"Oh no, oh no. He's dead, she got him, oh noo." Immediatly you could tell something was off with Sammy, she sounded far too sarcastic as she 'grieved' over Peter. "What happened?" Sammy quickly shushed joey. "Shes still in here." Joey glanced at you with a suspicious and worried look on her face. "Come over here Sammy." The blonde stayed together quiet for a second. "Fine." She slowly rose to her feet and turned around, revealing the bottom half of her face covered in blood and her teeth now jagged and pointy like Abigail's. "Run." Joey took off running, you grabbed Frank's hand and followed closely behind her, heading back to the library. Sammy, or rather, Abigail let out a screech and charged after you. You managed to get to the library, Sammy close behind when Joey pulled you and Frank over into the sunlight. Frank shoved you behind him and Joey protectively as Sammy entered the room. Sammy stopped by the door and looked round. "I always hated this room, my father turned me in here. Alot of painful memories." She continued to look up and round as if she was reminiscing before turning her gaze back to the three of you. "But it's never too late to make new ones."
"Well, thats uh-"
"A trap?"
You nodded staring at the door as Frank put his glasses back on. "But what the fuck else are we gonna do?" Joey pulled out her gun and you swapped yours with Frank for the last stake, before you all cautiously made you way over and into the hallway. The first part of the hallway looked like the inside of a thick wall with wooden supports along the walls and a few lit laterns providing as little light possible. The three of you then turned a corner to see a more house like set of walls. They were a faded grey colour, with chunks of paint missing and peeling. You stalked your way to the end of the corridor where a tiled room, most likely storage, was open on your left. You all looked into the room to see a shut door, behind which you could hear muffled speaking. However this sound didnt sound like actual people having a conversation. Instead it sounded like a video being played.
As you inched closer to the door, you realised the sound was Frank, but from earlier when he called Joey a junkie. The three of you looked at each other before Joey yanked the door open, allowing Frank to step in. As soon as he did, he started charging foward, followed by you and Joey. There, infront of monitors playing the nights events, was Lambert, he was facing away from you, but not for long. Once Frank was in stranggling distance, Lambert spun round and snarled at the three of you, showing off his set of jagged teeth aswell. Frank stumbled back, holding his arm over your stomach to keep you back aswell. "Oh fuck! Your one of them, hes one of them!"
"Abigail turned me two years ago. She found out i helped you in new york. She came for me and threatened my family, Now all i do is bring her father's enemies here, so that she can play her little hunting game. But i am done." Frank's eyes quickly glanced at your frightened face before looking back at Lambert. "What's your fucking point?"
"No shit Frank." Joey held her gun pointed straight at Lambert as you watched on wide-eyed. "What the fuck is happening motherfucker?!" Lambert smirked. "I brought you here to offer you a deal." You pushed Frank's arm down and stepped foward. "We aren't taking any fucking deals." Joey stepped foward aswell. "Especially not from you, you bastar-" Before she could finish her sentence, both you amd Joey had Lambert holding you against the wall by the neck. "I wasn't talking to you two. I'm surprised the fat one made it this long." Both of you started to paw desperatly at Lambert's wrist, not that it was any use. He turned to Frank who looked into Lambert's eyes before a wave of realisation hit him and he lowered his gun. "You fucking set me up?"
"Fuck it. Bite me." You turned your eyes away from Frank, still pawing at Lambert's wrists. Lambert chuckled as Frank smirked at him before slamming you and Joey against the wall, rendering you both on the verge between conciousness and unconciousness. Lambert threw you both on the floor behind him and walked over to Frank before sinking his teeth into Frank's neck. Frank let out a tring of curses as he backed up into the wall and slid down it. Lambert bit his own am before holding over Frank and letting his blood drip into his mouth. By now Joey was starting to come to and quietly crawled over to you. As she gently shook you to try and make you come to, Frank began to gag before spewing up god knows how much blood. He did so for a solid 10 seconds before his head dropped down groggily.
"You can die here. Or you can help me kill Abigail. Help me take her, and you can have anything you fucking want. But you'll need a little upgrade." You let out a small plead. "Im not gonna become a fucking puppet like sammy, fuck no." Lambert smiled and shook his head. "No. You'd be just like me. You get the complete treatment. Total autonomy." Franks eyes glanced back at you and Joey again. "Ive told Lazar theres a problem, he's on his way. We'll kill the girl. We'll kill her father. And we'll take over the whole fucking thing." You let out another pathetic plead for Frank before your heart dropped.
By now, you had slowly come to, only to look over and see Frank, in not the best shape, you let out a small whimper. To make matters worse, Lambert turned round to see you amd Joey looking up at him like frightened puppies. "Oh, your still with us? The big ones are always the stubborn ones. Frank, meet your first victims." Lambert look down at you both with an evil smirk as Frank's bloody self stood up behind him. You and Joey both crawled back slightly before the tip of the stake suddenly burst through Lambert's chest, causing him to yell in pain before exploding, just like Sammy did. His blood covered both you and joey, making you flinch and tense up.
You wiped your eyes and looked up to Frank, practically drenched in blood, now also with the vampire teeth you had seen one too many times in the last 24 hours. He chuckled looking down at the puddle of blood that used to be Lambert. "That's for setting me up and speaking to her like that you, you backstabbing prick." Frank slowly looked up grinning at you and joey, as he removed his glasses. His blue eyes seemed to shine through the blood covering his face, maybe signifying there was still some softness in him. "Oh yeah, i feel fucking great." Joey crawled infront of you slightly and picked up the stake from the ground infront of her, holding it out shakily.
Frank was about to say something when a soft humming caught all your attention. Your heads turned to the doo where Abigail was now stood. "So you found Lambert. Did he try and convince you to take it all before you killed him?" Abigail started giggling and Frank smiled tilting his head. "Our game ends here, ive made sure of that." Abigail charged towards Frank but before she could touch him, he grabbed the stake from Joey's hand and stuck in dead in the centre of Abigail's chest. Another explosion of blood. Frank turned back to you and Joey, grinning and chuckling as he looked down at your shaking frames. Frank tilted his head, still grinning before he crouched down to your level, looking right at Joey.
"Listen to me very carefully Joey, you're gonna leave, get yourself cleaned up and go to your kid. You're gonna go live your life with him, and you're gonna forget this night ever happened. But, if I find you telling anyone whatsoever, I will personally ensure that your head is torn from your shoulders, am I understood?" Joey nodded quickly and slowly rose to her feet. You also rose to your feet, but frank looked at you and chuckled evily. "Oh no sweetheart, you aren't going anyway, I said Joey could go, not you." You turned pale immediately thinking frank was gonna make you his puppet or just eat you.
"Joey please don't me leave me here." Tears welled in your eyes as you pleaded for Joey to help you. Joey did stop by the door before Frank gave her a final warning. "Joey I suggest you leave us before I change my mind about letting you off so easy." You shook your head as tears spilled but Joey simply mouthed sorry and took off. You squeezed your eyes shut and prepared to feel fangs dig into your neck.
However, when you felt nothing, you slowly opened your eyes to see frank looking, just unimpressed? “Darling, you think I've kept you to torture? After the night we've Spent together I thought you'd know better than that.” You simply stared at him before realizing he was serious. Frank just wanted you to stay with him, as his. Relief flooded over you before you felt Frank’s soft, but bloody lips pressed against yours. You wrapped your arm around him and hummed before he pulled back. “Shall We maybe go get cleaned up then?” Frank's sweet smile appeared as he held his hand out. His teeth didn't appear jagged or monster-like as he did, they were his normal pearly whites.
Slowly you took his hand before he guided you out of the room and back into the library, the sun had gone back down so Frank could walk around Care free as he led you to the room he had set up in, which thankfully had a shower. And as you walked, you realized that maybe, just maybe, living with an upgraded version of the man that fell for you on a kidnapping mission, wouldn't be so bad after all?
______。o*★*o。______
*sighs* fucking finally.
I do plan to do a part 2 of this where they can finally fuck. However ,if yall are intrested, I will also write an alternate ending for all you angst obsessed peeps where frank does end up evil evil and dying like the original film.
I really hope this is ok, I've never written anything this long before so you can imagine this has took quite the time to write. I would really appreciate reblogs, likes and comments on this fic as my back is blown from sitting in the middle of my bed and my brain is sufficiently fucked and won't be writing anything for the next few months :)
Anyway that's all from me for now lovelys!
______。o*★*o。______
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greenerteacups · 2 months ago
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Well on the GOT theme now that we're here... you've written before about how the Black family fascinates you. Are there families or houses in the GOT universe that pique your interest and curiosity in that way? What are your head canons about them?
NOW THAT WE'RE HERE... such a tasty question. The for real answer is that I am Starkpilled forever. Ned Stark worst politician of all time they could never make me hate you. Rob Stark you hot dumb bonnie prince charlie clone they could never make me hate you. Catelyn Stark you gorgeous vengeful bitch they could NEVER make me hate you. Jon Arya Sansa Bran and their feral kindergartener baby brother. Theon Greyjoy somehow serving levels of stepbrother never seen before in a family with a literal bastard stepbrother in it. A boring Stark? Never heard of one. All of them are insane deranged crazy intense weirdos who believe that They are the only Normal One in this crazy-ass family. And they all are kind of right but mostly wrong! The Targaryens are the sexy dragonrider house with a million cool names and dynastic squabbles and that would usually be my jam but. BUT. God damn do I love fucking weirdos. God damn do I love some brunette bitches in fur capes.
The more serious answer is that I think the Starks are one of the best families because not only are all of their characters individually developed and rich, but their family as such also has a really clear identity, which in turn informs how each of the members sees themselves. The Starks are often hinted to have a similar magic/spiritual connection to the earth that the Targaryens do, but because it's not as flashy, they aren't recognized as such by anyone. The children's pseudo-psychic bonds with their direwolves are the first kind of creature "magic" that we see in the story, long before Daenerys's dragons or any dragons are introduced, and I think the parallel is intentional. They're one of the oldest dynasties in Westeros. They're far older than any of the Valyrian houses; they've held Winterfell for so long that living memory doesn't even account for the full history of the castle. They built the Wall! They're a family of greenseers and wargs, children with mystical powers of sight and perception! And they're tied into the history of the land. They're mystical and ancient and old and powerful, and their stories all take the shape of myths. Which is such a fucking cool idea for a curse, right? Because like, what if your family curse was that you were destined to be the heroes of the story, every time? No matter what it cost you, what it did to you, what it asked of you? When the world calls, it's you, Stark, against the slings and arrows of fate. And it bequeaths to you the magic gifts that you need to perform that duty, because it is your possession of those gifts that make you the only ones who can. What kind of a tragedy would that be?
The serious and non-textual answer is that the North is to some extent modeled off the Highland clans — that is, a bunch of really proud, distinguished houses that all predate the unification of empire and maintain their distinct identities subsequent to that unification, and live in an ice-cold highland climate with mountains and rivers and lots of mythology and folklore about magical creatures and ghosts that is basically like the highlands and like okay the North is Scotland, okay, if you've never been to Scotland you just need to trust me on this but it's Scotland, it's fantasy Scotland. Which rules. Because Scotland is fucking awesome, firstly. And secondly, I love that Scottish house is the one house that keeps its shit together and hangs on for hundreds of years while all the bitches down south try to kill each other every 50. I love that the North is its own place, and it's still a little wild and mystical and it scares off everyone who's not from it, but the Stark children all know it and love it and so to them that wilderness feels like coming home. That's my pitch for House Stark.
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cozylittleartblog · 10 months ago
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hey, so I'm trying to figure out what places would be good to sell my own art at, and I'm wondering- what has been your experience with selling on etsy? I've heard mixed reviews from people, and I want to know your perspective as an etsy seller.
etsy is not perfect but i think it gets a little more shit than it deserves, i've thought about opening my own website but generally i'm actually pretty okay with the services i get on etsy compared to what it costs so i'm just gonna make a subjective pros/cons list for you under the cut (because its loooong)
oh and if anyone else has experience selling on etsy and would like to add their two cents in the replies/reblogs please do!
Pros
⭐ The search function - this is etsy's biggest selling point. it already has a dedicated userbase of millions of people and a search feature to help them find your shop, which takes a lot of the load of marketing off your shoulders, and marketing is a huge factor for pushing sales. i am not good at marketing and a lot of my sales just come from people searching my stuff up lol
⭐ Purchase protection program - if USPS loses or damages your package, you file a missing package report and they confirm they don't know where it is, Etsy will refund your buyers order out of their own pocket (under $250). this is my favorite etsy feature because USPS likes to eat packages every now and again. delicious keychains. if you had your own storefront, you'd just have to replace the order yourself.
⭐ Share & Save program - every time someone makes an order on your shop through a special Share & Save link, etsy will refund you 4% of the fees. it's a nice perk to doing some of your own marketing and it helps combat the moderately high etsy fees!
Trackable letter mail - selling stickers but think it's insane to charge $4 shipping? you can buy letter mail labels for about the rate of regular postage, which is like .65c. this tracking is done through etsy though so you can't track with usps, but it does give customers a little peace of mind. this only works in the 50 US states though.
Customs forms built into your shipping label - shipping internationally is a nightmare. etsy makes it easy though, generating everything you need to ship internationally on one label that you just have to sign and date and slap on your package like normal. for some countries they will actually just have your package sent to a domestic facility where they literally do all that for you. this is miles easier than having to do all that paperwork yourself.
buy shipping labels directly from etsy - related point, and just what it says on the tin. when you fulfill an order, you can buy your labels right there on Etsy so you don't have to mess around with a third party website. it comes out of your sale funds so you don't need to charge a card or a bank account or anything.
star seller program - some people say this is completely useless but i actually disagree! it's incredibly easy to earn this badge, and it lets buyers know you've got some of the best products, shipping, and customer service around. it helps you stand out from some of the more... questionable shops on the website.
sales tax - they remit sales tax for you. i don't think any of the other online platforms similar to etsy do this but i could be wrong. doing any kind of taxes sucks so i consider it a perk if they do it for you.
website promotions - every now and again etsy likes to host sales out of their own pocket. you get all the perks of having a sale without eating into ur profit margin. HUGE sale booster
generally the site is just very easy to learn and use and it's very beginner and dumbass friendly. i say this as a former beginner and current dumbass 👍
Cons
❌ the fees. oogh the fees. they claim it's just a 6.5% fee per sale, but on top of that you have to pay .20c automatically for every individual item you sell, plus there are processing fees (3% + .25c) that apply both to the item you sold AND the cost of shipping. i think it comes out to like 10% total in fees on average @ > @
❌ but wait, there's more fees! if you make more than $10k in sales a year (very easy number to hit actually) you are forced to participate in offsite ads, which i believe takes 15% of your total sale on top of the fees in the previous point. these kinds of sales are not as common as you'd think, but it's still annoying having a couple bucks shaved off your profits a few times a month because of them.
corporate bullshit - etsy is like renting a space in a mall. you don't own your lot, nor the mall itself, so if upper management decides to make any stupid ass decisions, you just have to deal with it or pick up and move. if they decide to raise fees again, you just gotta Deal. you are a little bit helpless on this website unfortunately
the push for discounts - etsy is constantly shoving it in your face that they want you to do discounts. they want you to have free shipping on orders over $35, they want you to do 25% off or more on sales, they want you to have returning customer discounts and abandoned cart discounts and 'you recently favorited this item' discounts - but you already have to compete with the steep fees, and when a customer gets free shipping, you still owe USPS that $4-ish bucks to send the package. you don't have to do any of this, but they do reward participating shops by favoring them in the algorithm and search results, so you can feel like you're missing out.
there aren't as many cons imo but they Are steeper cons. generally etsy is very beginner friendly and easy to get into and set up, and in spite of everything i do actually recommend everyone looking to get into online retail start on etsy and perhaps move to other platforms in the future. plus, you can combat all the fees by just... making your prices a dollar or two higher than you initially wanted to, and using your 'save and share' link as frequently as possible. the fees are a little bit much, but you have to think about what you get in exchange:
the search is invaluable, you could argue the fees are partially a marketing budget lmao. if you have a private website you alone have to push traffic to your website, and not as many people know about things like shopify and bigcartel so they might not be as trusting putting their card details into it. i miss out on a lot of REALLY COOL STUFF because artists only advertise on instagram and i don't hear about them, meanwhile if i want some cool owl house stuff i can literally just search that in etsy and find a lot of TOH stuff super easily. i cannot highlight enough how GOOD the search function is, especially in this day and age where social media like instagram and twitter will blacklist your posts if you say words like 'shop' or 'sale' and now nobody can find your stuff in that website's search either. its very hard to do your own marketing now a days :(
being able to refund customer's lost orders out of the company's pocket is such a nice thing to fall back on if you have to and worth its weight in fees. USPS lost like... four or five packages of mine in december. that's like $100 or more worth of stuff that Etsy Covered Completely, and a lot of the times the customer will take that refund to make their order again. don't abuse this system, make sure you check with usps that the package is actually Gone, but it's a godsend when you don't make billions of dollars and eating the cost of lost orders would otherwise sting a bit.
if etsy did not make international shipping easy i simply would not ship anywhere but the US to be honest. shipping to europe is still a headache though but that's because europe is stupid
that's everything i can think of, but tl;dr yes please open an etsy 👍 i recommend it completely in spite of everything
⭐ if anyone wants to open their own etsy shop, use my referral link to make your first 40 listings for free! :)c ⭐
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austinslounge · 28 days ago
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I personally still believe Austin and Kaia have already split. The pap walk, did work in terms of settling down the rumors and speculation from the media about a break up. But they haven't been seen since. It was all a formality. Get the media off their backs until they want to make it public. Happens all the time.
But in hindsight, no one actually bought that those two were still happy and together. Kaia called the paps to make sure she was seen with Austin. Austin, I don't know what his role in all this is. I think he agreed to do what he needs to be left alone.
L&S is getting info from someone from both sides. All their articles about this relationship are pretty straight forward. Where as Page 6 is trying to spin this narrative that everything is good with them. But you take one look at Austin and Kaia, and no things are not good. L&S knows something is up. What they say it was we've all been seeing. Anyone who actually looks at Austin and Kaia can sense they don't even like each other anymore. When's the last time they even smiled at each other? Every single pap walk the last 6 months has been the same. Miserable faces and barely interacting with each other.
This latest article about Cindy, I feel is another prelude to the eventual break up announcement. Going with the narrative of Kaia and her family doing everything they could to make things work with Austin. But in the end they couldn't fix it, whatever bullshit that family wants to spin. Because they will spin the narrative that makes it seem like Kaia did everything to make it work and Austin wasn't having it. Which isn't exactly false. But the Gerbe'rs would spin it in a way to make Austin look bad. Which again, Austin knows will happen.
Anyways, I don't even worry about this stuff anymore. Even when the pap pics were released last week, I wasn't surprised. We knew they'd probably do one last walk together.
I personally still believe Austin and Kaia have already split. The pap walk, did work in terms of settling down the rumors and speculation from the media about a break up. But they haven't been seen since. It was all a formality. Get the media off their backs until they want to make it public. Happens all the time.
Thanks for your honest input girl! 😊 I appreciate it.
I'll be honest, this Kaustin couple is so weird, and I've been burned so many times before with thinking they broke up and then I see them together again in a pap stroll 🙄, so I'm just going to wait until Austin stops filming (or until he's spotted getting cozy w/another woman) before I call a "breakup".
I think they are a PR arrangement, and that's why it seems like they've broken up 50 million times, but they always end up being seen together again. 😩
One day, this circus will be over though, and one of the biggest signs to me that it's over (aside from a formal breakup announcement) will be Austin spending time with other women. That man has been so starved of a real and genuine loving relationship, that when he's finally done with this PR showmance, I don't think he's going to waste any time spending time with other women.
We've seen what "Single Austin" looks like lol 😆, and in those days, he was rumored to be spotted with other women. There were also the Lily Rose fling pictures. 🤭
Believe me, we will know when Austin is single again lol. 😅 He's hot, and trust me, lots of women in Hollywood have noticed. I honestly think Austin will be the best sign that they have broken up --- NOT Kaia.
But that's just my personal feeling on all of this. You can feel free to disagree.
As for right now, I'm just going to sip my wine 🍷 and wait to see what happens after Austin is finished with his filming.
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But in hindsight, no one actually bought that those two were still happy and together. Kaia called the paps to make sure she was seen with Austin. Austin, I don't know what his role in all this is. I think he agreed to do what he needs to be left alone.
Girl, nobody is buying it at all lol. 😅 That's because we actually have eyes and can see lol. Not even the ones who usually ship them together bought that pap stroll after Gracie's concert.
Just the fact that Paul Mescal (who's actually dating Gracie), along with other celebrities who were at the concert weren't papped by the paps, and only Austin and Kaia were papped coming out of the concert tells me everything I need to know.
Now that her SNL film already came out and she's probably not doing anymore press, let's see if she stays in NYC, or goes back to LA.
Btw, speaking of Paul Mescal, this is what he and Gracie look like together. 😏
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When have we ever seen Austin and Kaia look like this?
Anyways, I don't even worry about this stuff anymore. Even when the pap pics were released last week, I wasn't surprised. We knew they'd probably do one last walk together.
Girl, listen. Ever since the Marcello incident, there's no Kaustin pap stroll or engagement announcement that can change my thoughts on these two.
This seems like an arrangement hands down. It also seems like Austin is just done. Even Kaia herself looks like she's done and wants to just live her "Hot Girl Summer" life lol. 😅
There is no genuine love btwn these two at all. This ship is sinking faster than the Titanic lol. 😅
The fact that we see Austin and Kaia looking stone-faced 90% of the time together, and yet they can be photographed one time with others and look happy as a clam is everything I need to know.
The thing I look at the most isn't even the Pap stroll pics honestly (anyone can claim that they just don't like the paparazzi in their face and that's why they are scowling).
What I'm looking at is more so their candid shots taken from locals when they don't even realize they're being photographed or video taped. To me, that is telling a bigger story than even the pap photos.
Muskoka video clip
Any Cabo trip that Austin has taken with her and/or her family
The picture of them both on their phones in NYC
The photos of them bts at that play they went to in NYC
That's why I don't ever buy the "they looked so happy and in love!" claims from sightings, because they never look like that in 90% of the photographs we see of them together.
His body language is usually very closed off with her. To me, it's very telling.
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bisexualseraphim · 8 months ago
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I gotta say, I am seriously fucking concerned with the amount of people here who seem to wholeheartedly believe that the correct answer to the genocide against Palestine is ANOTHER genocide except the other way around. Please stand back for 2 minutes and seriously think about whether you think it’s ever a helpful or just cause to advocate for the deaths of millions of people, especially when plenty of said people are Jews whose families fled there after barely surviving the Holocaust because hardly anywhere else would treat them like human beings or accept them at all since the antisemitism that allowed the Holocaust to happen was not solely in Germany and didn’t magically disappear after the war ended.
Look. The situation is simple when you boil it down to this: Israel is bombing and starving Palestinians like fish in a barrel and doesn’t want to allow aid to Gaza, which consists of a population of over 50% children. Israel allowed the Nakba and displacement of Palestinians for decades and tries to hide it from public view. This is genocide. The Israeli government is at fault for this. Israel holds the power here because they have the power to bomb and starve millions of people and force them out of their homes, and Palestine certainly does not. It’s an utterly horrific, inhumane thing to do with no excuses for it and it needs to stop. This is the simple part that is glaringly obvious for everyone to see and it’s almost laughable for anyone to deny it.
Okay. You’ve successfully identified the main problem and the “bad guy,” if you want to put it in childish simplistic terms. So the question now is: what next? Say Israel agrees to an immediate ceasefire. What do you, impassioned activist on the internet, propose should be done to solve this situation after that? What should be done to free the Israeli hostages? Do you think the UK and the US, two of the most powerful countries in the world who actively help Israel commit its atrocities against Palestine, will ever do anything to help the Palestinians once Israel loses its power, even if better governments are eventually elected? How should the Palestinian land be claimed back? Where should all the Israeli citizens go? Should they all be forced out to Europe and America, even if that isn’t where they originate from, where the already-rife antisemitism has spiked even further since October 7th and Jews who live thousands of miles from Israel and have nothing to do with Israel’s actions face horrific hate crimes every day? Do Israeli children deserve that? Who’s going to pay for their travel and accommodation? Or, should they all be allowed to stay there and live side by side with the Palestinians? Do you think most Palestinians would be happy to remain neighbours with the citizens of the country that has oppressed them so fiercely for over 75 years, even if said citizens didn’t partake in it or in fact opposed it? What about the 20% of Israeli citizens who are Arab or Palestinian? Do you hold the same opinion of foreign settlers in Israel as you do its citizens whom have made a home there for many generations? How do you discern between settlers and “real” Israelis? Do you see any difference between them at all? Why? And what should be done about Hamas, the group that openly calls for the genocide of all Jews around the world and commits war crimes against Israeli citizens? How much of the history behind Israel’s occupation of Palestine are you aware of? Do you think the British government should be held accountable for splitting Palestine in the first place? How would you go about that? Would it be fair to punish the British people for their government’s actions when British citizens didn’t vote for it? How does that compare to your view of Israel and its citizens, and why?
I am absolutely NOT asking trick questions here or trying to “gotcha!” anyone. I am asking these questions precisely BECAUSE they are extremely difficult to answer, with several of them contradicting each other, and they are meant to get an emotional reaction out of you. I certainly don’t know what the “correct” answers to most of those questions are, and that’s exactly my point: there is no simple answer to a problem that has been going on for decades with such a wide, complex history. Historians and political experts who know all the facts and have studied this shit for years don’t know the answer and it’s honestly insulting to all the people suffering to log on every day and see so many people go “actually 😌 I, a random 20-30 something year old on the internet who isn’t even touched by what’s happening in Palestine, have figured it out before everyone else! Just delete an entire country and all its citizens off the map 😊 This is a moral thing to suggest! And if you disagree with me you’re promoting Zionism/terrorism 😘” There are no simple answers and if you think there is one — and especially if you think that answer is to kick citizens out of the country their family has lived in for generations — then you are both wilfully ignorant and evidently fuelled more by hatred than an actual desire for peace and an end to death and oppression and I don’t believe there is a crumb of sincerity in your activism.
Am I naive enough to think that fighting against oppression and occupation is always going to be peaceful? Obviously not. But you’ve got to think about where and when said violence is actually going to be beneficial, and where and when it’s violence purely for the sake of violence, which is NEVER justified. You can’t advocate for human rights and then turn around and say “oh, but not for you.” EVERYONE deserves food and water. EVERYONE deserves shelter. EVERYONE deserves to receive treatment for sickness or injury. NOBODY deserves cruel and unusual punishment or torture. And EVERYONE deserves to be alive. Those are essential human rights that should never, ever be denied wherever it is possible to give them, and disagreeing with that reflects extremely poorly on you and your principles. Think about what narrative you are pushing when you claim an entire people “deserves” bad things. The constant dehumanisation I see happening in online activism (and far too often in real life too) is actually terrifying and if you want to do some real good in the world, I need everyone reading this to examine their potential internal prejudices, even the ones you don’t think you have, and think about who exactly you’re helping when you express thoughts that perpetuate them, and who you may be harming in the process.
Anyway, now that I’ve gotten that out of the way…
Here are some useful resources if you want to make a difference and help people:
Standing Together (an Israeli movement advocating for ceasefire and peace between Israelis and Palestinians)
Zochrot (an Instagram page that seeks to educate the public about the Nakba)
Parents’ Circle (an organisation run by relatives of Israelis and Palestinians killed in the conflict who advocate for peace)
Operation Olive Branch (a Google Doc of Palestinian families seeking evacuation)
Mesarvot Network (an Instagram page run by young Israelis seeking to refuse the IDF draft and end military violence committed by both Hamas and the IDF)
Other Gaza aid organisations to donate to
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alicepao13 · 26 days ago
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Hudson and Rex S02E10 - The French Connection
The episode from which I found out that there are some islands close to Canada that belong to France somehow. And apparently now there's also a crime show set in those islands?
From Wikipedia: Saint-Pierre is a Canadian police procedural television series, slated to premiere in the 2024–25 season on CBC Television. The series stars Alan Hawco as Donny "Fitz" Fitzpatrick, a police officer with the Royal Newfoundland Constabulary; after one of his investigations gets uncomfortably close to the corruption of a powerful local politician, he is exiled to the French territory of Saint-Pierre and Miquelon, where he partners with local police officer Geneviève "Arch" Archambault (Joséphine Jobert) to to solve local crimes.
Now, wait a second. That's about half the plot of this Hudson and Rex episode!
Anyway, on to the episode.
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A girl carrying baguettes on a bicycle???
"I hope he's not some pretentious Godard-quoting chain smoker." Just once, look around before you speak.
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I got you now, mister Black Coffee. That's more milk than what I put in my latte.
We've already established some of the most popular stereotypes for French and Canadian people. Valerie is already snobbish and Charlie has already apologized once.
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While on duty?
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Oh my god his face when the dude spits out the gin in the spit bucket lmao
I like many kinds of drinks but I admit that gin leaves me uninterested. I don't know what it is about it.
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Well, hello there, Aaron Ashmore, twin brother of Shawn Ashmore. For anyone who doesn't know, this not the guy who's on The Rookie, but he is the guy who was on Killjoys, with Mayko Nguyen.
People keep handing Valerie drinks and Charlie keeps saying "we're on duty". Just give up.
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Why does he look so happy to be digging through trash???
Claire just said that there's no law against lying to the police. What?
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Valerie, when you doubt Charlie, it's funny. When you doubt Sarah and Rex, you sound like a twat.
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Well, don't sound so proud about it.
"You're more comfortable with dogs than people". Probably, but that's because people are often twats.
Charlie's face is pure comedy in this episode. So funny.
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Sarah gets to go undercover AND drink gin. Well, if we call that drinking.
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She says "you guys" but only looks at Charlie. You're not even subtle.
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Charlie: Oh, hell to the no. This is a trap.
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Valerie is not wrong here. That's gross, not to mention unsanitary. He'd put so much milk in it that it must have gone bad by now. And judging by his reaction when he takes a sip, it probably has. Never drink coffee with dairy that's been left out for more than two hours, folks.
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I only wish I could capture the following scene with Sarah and Jesse competing on who's going to deliver the new evidence that they have found out. But I think Sarah's "I'll fucking murder that twink" face is very telling.
Now, cognac, I like. Although, according to google, the most expensive cognac is Henri IV, not V. I'm sure they've written that intentionally. The real cognac is worth up to 2 million dollars, by the way. People are crazy.
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Charlie does not understand any of this and to be honest, neither am I. Any bottle of wine that costs more than 20 Euros is a scam. Any clear alcohol like whiskey, gin, rum, vodka, that costs more than 50 Euros is also a scam.
"No CCTV cameras anywhere. You might say that it's the perfect place for murder". I don't remember a lot of cases outdoors that were solved by watching CCTV cameras either way. Which makes sense. I mean, how many CCTV cameras does a city like St. John's need?
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This is such a funny episode, really.
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We must do this at least once in any Rex adaptation. I bet it's in the contracts lol
Joe: *counts* One [Valerie], two [Charlie], *skips Jesse* three of you [Rex] are going on a trip. lol poor Jesse.
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*tries to speak French and gets guns pointed at him* Come on, it wasn't that bad, was it? (Yes, I'd have put that line in there if I could.)
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That's why he'll move soon!
The chase scene was good too.
Ugh, Valerie has her finger on the trigger. No.
Joe: "Can anyone explain to me why I was asked to comp a 300 dollar cognac bill?" Justice isn't cheap, Superintendent. Although for that many bottles... I mean, I can't find cognac that cheap here.
We had whiskey glasses in S1, what the hell happened?
Well, I enjoyed that. I didn't remember it was such a funny episode. And I maxed out the image limit again.
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ramspatula · 1 year ago
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IRON SPIDER| Tony Stark Daughter! Reader
This is the first chapter of my Tony Stark daughter| reader book. If you can’t tell. Reader is going to get bit by a radioactive spider at some point.
You are now part of the MCU! Congrats!
Next part
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2001, 3 days after (Y/b/d)
"JARVIS, these lights are practically blinding me."
"Turning down the exposure, sir."
"I don't know why we have these lights on so bright!"
"I believe your condition may influence you to believe the lights are brighter than they are."
"Just say I'm hungover, I won't disable you over it."
"I wish I could say the same for the lights."
"Well I didn't want such bright lights." Tony groaned, keeping his eyes shut and resting an arm them.
"Mr Stark, your lawyer is here to see you." Pepper announced from the doorway. Tony's face scrunched in confusion, he didn't have a meeting with his lawyer or any of his attorneys for at least a week.
"Am I in trouble?" He asked.
"You should go find out." Pepper said, sternly.
"Are you going to spank me if I am?" Tony smirked and Pepper's face didn't change.
"Your lawyer is waiting on the couch and Obadiah wants to have dinner next week when he gets back, is that all Mr Stark?"
"Yeah, I'll go see what he wants." Tony nodded and swiftly moved out the room.
★・・・・・・★
"James! What brings you to my home? I break something? Someone? Vandalism? I sell something to the wrong people? Get someone pregnant? Noise complaint-"
"Mr Stark, please sit down. This needs to be dealt with in a timely manner." James told him before placing down in front of him an open folder. The folder contained an empty birth certificate and a picture of a newborn baby girl in a hospital crib.
"What is this?" Tony questioned.
"2 days ago, a woman was rushed the hospital as she was in labour and delivered this baby. She gave the hospital no name and no medical information except a contact number and told them to ask for the father of this baby, Anthony Stark." James started and placed before Tony a warn business card that said:
'Call me, Tony ~
P.s the room is payed for and there's a car waiting to take you wherever you want to go outside.'
There was a number at the bottom of the card which was for Happy's work cell. It was no doubt Tony's handwriting but Tony had slept with lots of people and none of them had a kid yet. This wasn't his kid.
"So what does she want? We're speaking if the kid is mine, 50/50 custody? Millions in child support? You know your silence is really nerving me." Tony asked.
"Im sorry, Mr Stark but you haven't heard all the context just yet." James clarified before continuing, "Last night, this woman left the hospital without this baby and no intentions of taking her along. That leaves two options, you claim that this isn't your child and she gets put into the system or your can get a paternity test and decide from there." Tony stared blankly for a couple minutes at the images in front of him.
"Mr Stark, I understand this a difficult situation-"
"She looks like my dad. Right before he died when he became an actual old man only he didn't look as peaceful as she does." Tony found himself smiling, babies has a tendency to make anyone smile.
"Have you thought over your options?" James asked and Tony shook his head.
"If this kid comes with me then there's a high chance she'll become fucked up but the system only produces messed up kids anyway. I think it's better if I'm the one who fucks her up, at least she'll know a sense of stability." Tony closed the folder. "Bring her here, I'll do the paternity test and you guys can be here to see the results. I'm assuming the mother gave up all her rights?" Tony questioned and James nodded, perplexed.
"If you are the father then all the rights for the child will be granted to you but if you aren't she will be put into the system." James told him and he nodded.
"Are we finished?"
"I just need to call the hospital to let them know." James said before standing up and when he was far enough away. Tony threw himself back into the couch and sighed, his hangover felt worse then before.
"JARVIS, what does a baby need and how does a single father give a baby what it needs?" Tony called out.
"Placing an order for baby formula, diapers, clothes and books involving caring for a newborn."
"You're the best."
★・・・・・・★
A newborn mainly only slept, cried, ate, peed, shit and slept again but they're so small. Holding one in your arms made you more aware of your surroundings, more afraid to move even slightly, your thoughts will become so filled with anxiety of things that could happen to them that you feel yourself begin to work up. At least, that's what Tony found out. There were at least 10 people in the room with him, including the baby. Everyone's attention was focused on the two very similar DNA strands shown on the holo-screen.
"Congratulations, Mr Stark. You are a father." Jarvis' voice rung out through the lab and Tony felt a small, overwhelmed, smile rise to his face.
"Well, that settles it. Where's the birth certificate?" Tony asked and Pepper's face dropped in shock.
"You're keeping her, Mr Stark?" She asked and Tony only smiled harder.
"She's my daughter, I'm not abandoning her." He announced picking the newborn up out the temporary crib and nestling her in one arm and turning her around to face the DNA strands. Her eyes weren't open but it didn't deter him.
"You see that? You're my daughter, those are half my genetics. If you're anything like me, you'll understand what that means by the time you're 4." He smiled as Pepper held the birth certificate towards him and a pen. He signed his name and then paused looking at the section where the baby's name would go.
"Leave the room for a bit. I want some time with my baby."
"Mr Stark-"
"Go!" The room soon dispersed and Tony sighed looking down at the little girl.
"What should I name you?" Tony asked but the baby only moved a little hand towards him before silently opening her eyes slightly to look up at him. Her vision wasn't great and wouldn't be for awhile but it still felt as if she was looking directly at him.
"My mother's name was Maria. Maria Stark? Name you after her? She'd like that. No she wouldn't. She’d want you to have your own name okay. Angel? You look like one. Angel Stark? I can't do that to my kid. Uhm... Lets see... (Y/n)? That's cute. I like that. (Y/n) Stark? That's good, nice... (Y/n) Maria Stark? Mom would've liked that. She would've liked you. You might've been able to make your grandad smile. Granted that's if he knew how to do that. My Dad wasn't that loving. He wasn't very nice to be honest but I won't be like that. Although, I do like to drink too so I hope you don't mind. I won't do it often or in front of you! I think I can make this work, being a Dad and a CEO and a inventor. I think my playboy career might take some damage though but that is a sacrifice I'm willing to make as I've seen what it has given me. No offence. (Y/n) Maria Stark." Tony said as he wrote her name on the certificate and smiled.
"You really are about to change my life, you know that?" He whispered and in response all he could hear was the almost silent breaths of a newborn baby.
★・・・・・・★
"Tony! What's this business I hear about you having a baby? You want maternity leave? What are you a woman? Get a nanny and let's get to work!" The voice of Obadiah Stane rang through the living room of the Miami mansion and said man was greeted with shushing.
"I have been awake every 3 hours last night! To feed, rock and cuddle that baby! You will not wake her during my hours of peace, it takes me longer to get her back down than it does to reassemble an engine." Tony's hair was everywhere, his t-shirt has a spot of baby sick on and there was a distressed looking baby cloth thrown over his shoulder.
"You look like shit."
"You don't look much better. How was New York?"
"You've got a baby in the next room and you're asking me about New York?"
"Okay let's settle this. Yes I have a baby. Her name is (Y/n) Maria Stark and she was born on (Y/b/d) at 7lbs. Now tell me why you're here because I could be taking a nap right now- you know I'm supposed to sleep when she does?" Tony told him making his way over the kitchen where his new sterilising invention had sterilised 6 of his new baby bottles and 2 pacifiers.
"No I don't -going into the baby business now?" Obadiah asked, staring at all the new baby inventions.
"I think we should because being a parent is hard."
"You've been a parent for like 3 days Tony."
"A week and half."
"What?"
"She was born 2 weeks ago and I got her 3 days after she was born." Tony told him, grabbing the coffee that Obadiah had brought him and taking a sip.
"You're really keeping her?" Obadiah questioned and Tony scrunched his face.
"Yeah, she's my kid." Tony answered.
"You do realise what a big responsibility this is? No more playboy parties. You can't bring her gambling and partying! Unless you're getting a nanny which I think you should. No one can raise a kid like a woman." Obadiah told him and Tony stared at him with a blank face.
"Just for that, I'm going to prove you wrong." Tony jabbed him in the chest. Before Obadiah could respond Jarvis' voice sounded through the room.
"Miss Stark is awake and hungry."
"You want to meet her?" Tony asked as he prepped a bottle, a little cry could be heard and Obadiah frowned.
"She doesn't sound happy I'm here." He commented and Tony shrugged.
"Be back in a sec." With that Tony left the room and came back with a small figure resting against his chest in a pink sleep suit.
"This is her?" Obadiah asked in shock. He didn't know what he expected but it wasn't to see Tony so comfortable with such responsibility in his arms.
"You think I've got some random baby laying around? Yes it's her, she's hungry. Can't you tell?" Tony asked, gesturing to the way the baby was mouthing. "Want to hold her whilst I sort this bottle out?" He asked and Obadiah looked wary.
"Tony I-"
"Good. Support her head- don't look so awkward. There you go! Now don't move." Obadiah had never looked so stiff. He stood, unmoving, as Tony made his way to the still cooling bottle.
"You know, there's a reason I never had kids." Obadiah commented to which Tony ignored and tested the temperature of the bottle on his wrist.
"Sorry honey, still too hot." He said and Obadiah began to absentmindedly rock a little, the baby was looking up at him with big, judging, eyes.
"She looks like you."
"I thought she looked like Dad."
"Yeah well, I still find it hard to separate you and Howard. Look- she's even got that look you give me!" Obadiah commented and Tony chuckled.
"What look?" He asked.
"Like I don't mean shit." Obadiah told him and he genuinely laughed.
★・・・・・・★
The door to the lab opened quietly. A lone rocking chair could be seen by a desk, a holo-screen was placed in front of the rocking chair where two figures were seated. Colonel James Rhodes made his way towards the chair and paused a few feet away.
"So the rumours are true? Tony Stark settled down." Rhodey said and a quiet chuckle could be heard.
"I didn't settle down, I just had a baby." Tony told him with a smile and from the new position Rhodey could see the little girl.
"God she looks like you. Where's the mother?" Rhodey questioned and Tony shook his head.
"Gone. I have no clue where. I haven't had the time to look into it." Tony told him and looked down at his kid.
"How old is she?"
"1 month. Didn't expect you to be away for so long. What they have you do? Flood out some terrorists?" Tony asked and Rhodey chuckled.
"Nothing as interesting as that or this. She's so small?" Rhodey leaned more towards the baby.
"Do you want to hold her?" Tony asked and Rhodey smiled.
"Really?" He asked, giddy.
"Yeah, come on. Be careful she's asleep. She likes to be against your chest." Tony told him as he helped Rhodey adjust the baby onto his chest.
"I got it- oh she's so small. What's her name?" Rhodey asked and Tony sat back down on the rocking chair.
"(Y/n) Maria Stark." He announced and Rhodey smiled.
"Like your Mom?" He asked and Tony nodded. "That's nice. I didn't think you'd be the sentimental type, Tony." Rhodey commented and Tony smiled.
"Well my Mom meant the world to me and now so does she so it's only fitting." Tony shrugged and Rhodey nodded in approval.
"I can't believe you had a kid." Rhodey shook his head in disbelief and Tony rolled his eyes.
"You do know you're an Uncle now." Tony told him and Rhodey's face dropped, Tony just laughed.
★・・・・・・★
"Todays top story: Tony Stark, Inventor, Millionaire, CEO OF STARK INDUSTRIES and infamous playboy has announced that he has had a child"
"New Stark heir announced: (Y/n) Maria Stark."
"Tony Stark has welcomed a daughter into the world, (Y/n) Maria Stark. The 6 month old..."
"Infamous Playboy is now a single father? Tony Stark has been revealed to have a baby daughter."
"Are we about to see a new Stark generation? More about the announcement of Tony Stark's new parenthood."
"Tony Stark has had a daughter, (Y/n) Maria Stark was born on..."
"No, I didn't know you were going to announce the existence of my infant daughter to the whole world!... No that is not your decision-....I don't care! You had no right to announce my daughter's birth without my approval! At the very least you could've told me you were going to announce her!... I know you announced it. The company doesn't make public announcements like that on its own... I am not going to let my daughter be free publicity for the company!... Obadiah, I don't care what benefit it has for investors to see me as more. What? Domestic. I don't care.... I'm done talking to you. Bye." Just as Tony hung up a cry was sounded through his bedroom.
"Yes honey, I know, I'm upset too." The little 6 month old stared up at him with big watery eyes from where she was sat on the bed next to him.
★・・・・・・★
"JARVIS? Are you recording?"
"Of course sir."
"Come to Daddy. Come on, you can do it!" The 8 month old stared at him for a moment. She was in the position to crawl and had tried numerous times before. "Come on, (Y/n). You've got this, sweetheart- Yeah! That's it!" Tony clapped as the baby crawled slightly towards a toy in front of her and laughed when she saw her father be so ecstatic. She moved to sitting down and clapping with him.
"Da!" She had been saying for the past 2 months. She didn't associate the word with Tony yet but he reacted all the same. Overjoyed and happy. From that moment she crawled she never stopped until she found her father's toolbox. (Y/n) didn't have a clue what any of the tools did but it was a sign to Tony that she was going to have the same brilliant mind that he did. She was a Stark, through and through.
★・・・・・・★
Tony still had to go into work sometimes. No matter how much he hated going to his office nowadays it was still obligation and there's only so much of Pepper's nagging he can take. However, that being said he was still Tony Stark so he was going to bend the rules. That's how he ended up walking into multiple important meetings with a baby on his hip. Sometimes it was meetings with government officials or international ambassadors for militaries that were interested in his technology. It was safe to say they were surprised at the appearance of the baby or at least weren't expecting her.
"Tony, you know you can't bring her here."
"Who says? It's my company, she doesn't effect my work. In fact she helps, she knows what a screwdriver is-"
"Screwdriver"
"-See? My little helper. She's talking a lot now. You should come by more often, you're missing out." Tony pointed at Obadiah as (Y/n) made work of trying to climb over his shoulder to see above the chair they were sitting on. She likes the big glass window behind them.
"Jesus Tony, you sound like a woman." Obadiah chided and Tony chuckled pulling his daughter down and sitting her on the desk where she immediately took offence to some decoration Pepper had put on the desk and kicked it off with a groan.
"I never liked that one either. Thanks, honey. And to answer you, I don't give two shits."
"Shit." (Y/n) repeated with a cross face and both men chuckled.
"You're not telling her off for that?" Obadiah asked.
"No she doesn't know what it means plus I say it too much to kick out my vocab so I'm letting it stay in hers too."
"People are going to criticise you for this."
"The world is cruel to a single father, Obadiah. At least I'm rich." Tony said
"Rich." (Y/n) repeated.
"She already knows she's worth more than me." Obadiah commented and Tony chuckled.
"I've been trying to get her to say millionaire but it's not quite there yet sounds like 'milloner'." Tony told Obadiah who smirked.
"You're close to being a billionaire, Tony. I think this next deal may make that happen." Obadiah told him, placing a folder down in front of him.
"Maybe." Tony agreed and Obadiah picked up at toy on the floor and handed it towards (Y/n).
"I believe this is yours, little missy." He told her and she only frowned and looked upset and he only got an answer when Tony looked up from the file.
"She doesn't like to be handed stuff- just leave it there, if she wants it she'll take it." Tony told him before going back to reading the file.
"The apple really doesn't fall far from the tree, huh?" Obadiah murmured.
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