#i still think she and Beck should get together

[kitausuret]

The biggest missed opportunity with Venom Beyond + every story involving Anne-as-Venom is making her a soldier instead of leaning on the fact that she's a lawyer and a SUCCESSFUL one at that. Forget the soldier apocalypse shit, she should be in court or harassing her clients when they lie about their business practices. And by harassing I mean threatening to disembowel billionaire CEOs. And if not disembowel then at least refuse to keep them as a client.

Like iirc Anne is a corporate defense attorney. Why would you drop that idea in favor of a Symbiote Soldier Schtick that's already been done? She should be lawyering people to death. She should be kicking ass and taking names and just barely skirting the rules of law because she knows what those rules are.

She can still have problems, and issues, and trauma, and weird shit happening that affects her life and her ability to live normally but she spent YEARS working up to be a lawyer. Why would she throw that away? Because a goo alien attached itself to her? Hell no. She can have both.

[utilitycaster]

Wizard Breakdown Tracker: Echoes of the Solstice

You know it, you love it, it may return on an as-needed basis for Campaign 3 now that Allura has entered the narrative and we know the fate of Caleb, but no promises: it's the Wizard Breakdown Tracker! As a reminder, I now include PCs because I make the rules; wizard NPCs are included on the very scientific basis of "do I have something I think is kind of funny or meaningful to say" so as always, if I left someone off, it was on purpose specifically to annoy you.

Astrid Becke: well her boss is missing, Caleb has expressed concerns in private to Beau about all of the Assembly, apparently the king is bedridden and has been for some time, and I suspect news of unsealed things being unsealed gets to her quickly; even if she isn't aware of the events in Blumenthal yet, she's about to be. Also, it's the apogee solstice. 8/10; ever the opportunist, it is a good time for her to try to become head of the Assembly, but also shit's gone real sideways.

Eadwulf Grieve: lost his title of hottest mage (men's division) to one Fjord Stone during the last Nicodranas County Fair and has been sulking ever since but more importantly the temple of the Raven Queen is doing Not Great Bob as of like an hour ago so a rare Eadwulf stress moment. 7/10.

Planerider Ryn: just lost her arm...but is unaware of it, so that's probably helping. technically cannot be calculated because she is a rock but spiritually like an 8/10 and that's only because she is remarkably unflappable; she just witnessed the Malleus Key and that should drive anyone up to a 10.

Allura Vysoren: has absolutely sensed a disturbance in the force weave and I'm sure Kima's feeling some bad vibes from Bahamut right now, but rather like Ryn she actually has some degree of sangfroid, a concept unheard of in the entire continent of Wildemount. 6/10.

Yussa Errenis: have you ever dealt with like, an ER Nurse, and unless something is actually exploding or someone is actually bleeding out they're like "yeah it be like that sometimes"? After you've been sucked into the Cognouza Hivemind while trying to do your silly little arcane investigations nothing short of the Calamity will ruffle you. He's an elf; he knows this solstice is wonky but also he knows this is Someone Else's Problem. Also Jester's left him alone for a whole 24 hours? Incredible. 2/10 and that's really just because he's still a little cranky about the disappearance of his blast scepter. As always: never change, king.

Prism Grimpoppy: by my calculations she's discovering that she's actually fucking incredible in combat right now. 0/10, she's doing GREAT.

Pumat Sol and sure, fuck it, Oremid Hass: I suspect the Zadash Wizard Contingent is dealing with some wild unsealed shit from the time of the Julous Dominion and they can't get in touch with anyone in the capital, but it's probably manageable. 4/10. On edge but not too bad.

Ludinus Da'leth: oh did your little plan to unleash the god-eater go a touch sideways? were you unprepared for the possibility of fucking all of magic? did you think it was going to be easy? did level 9 "Fuck Up Airship" and level 8 "Shield Against Werewolf" fail to save your bitch ass? As we've seen, he'll scramble and recover, unfortunately, but it's a well-deserved 9/10 right now. I love to see a plan fall apart.

Trent Ikithon: OH this motherfucker has LOST IT in prison. Like...he was able to put together a pretty elaborate situation, to be clear, but also he's gone bugfuck nuts and does not really improve. I think he's already broken down from the start having clearly been planning this exact scenario from the moment of his imprisonment honestly given that he appears to be going off of the frissons he picked up from Caleb and Essek shortly before he was captured, but regardless: he definitely ends it at a 10/10. Stuck in an egg for eternity, if he's even still a separate entity from Omentis. A well-deserved fate if ever there was one. Get fucked lol.

Veth Brenatto: hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha 10/10 you know she watched Luc leap through the teleportation circle as it closed and has been shrieking loud enough to be heard at the Chateau.

Luc Brenatto: the arrogance and naivete of youth insulate him initially, but Aggy's demise probably spikes it to a solid 6 minimum and it's definitely 9 during the battle. It goes back down pretty quickly though; see Caleb's entry.

Caleb Widogast: he keeps it together pretty well, honestly! Still I have to imagine he's kind of at a 7 or so this entire time with occasional spikes to 9 (NEIN) throughout, and I wouldn't fault him for finishing up the Blumenthal Brunch and then quietly locking himself in a soundproof tower room to scream, cry, and throw up for a while. Indeed, I would encourage it; Caleb should go have a good cry and hug a magic cat for a couple hours until he feels better, and then come back down to find that everyone except the clerics but DEFINITELY including Luc has implemented Spontaneous Apogee Solstice Oktoberfest to celebrate the demise of Trent, the engagement of Fjord and Jester, and the general experience of being alive, and is varying degrees of extremely wasted. This will of course bring him back up to like 7 as he realizes he has to return a hungover teenager to Veth and then goes down to a 4 or so when he realizes the clerics can fix that and Veth will probably be so glad that Luc is alive she'll ignore the rest of it.

Essek Thelyss: Our international drow of mystery looms large in the narrative, but does not make an appearance, which makes this premise extremely funny. I assume he's feeling kind of rough given that the Dynasty wizards are well-attuned to leylines and I would imagine he picks up that Sending isn't working and was broadly aware Caleb was going into danger, so he's certainly stressed, but Trent doesn't actually seem to know Where in Exandria is Essek Thelyss and is merely threatening blackmail. Honestly while we're at it, we don't know where Essek is because I wouldn't put it past Mr. Geometer Owner to have been at a solstice nexus and to have possibly experienced his own Solstice Shunting. In fact I assume Essek is blissfully unaware of these specific goings on re: Trent and is just experiencing The Anxiety for all of the previous reasons. (1d6+3)/10.

Known Gem Wizard Hotsauce Lutefisk: Hmmm. Things becoming unsealed, you say? The uninvited guest list (The Real Gelidon, Isharnai) for The TusktoothStone-Lavorre wedding may have gained an extra entry.

[cod-imagines-fanfiction]

Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend to be interrogated by the 141 (2.3k words, part 2)

Summary: Valeria despairs when you don't answer her calls and immediately returns to her residence, only to find you gone. In the meantime, Graves presses you for information, and Alejandro starts to understand why Valeria hides you so well.

TW: mentions of cheating, toxic Valeria and very toxic Alejandro (OOC but I think it adds juicy drama, sorry for ruining him!). Mentions of death and violence. apologies for the imperfect Spanish, I've been using Google Translate! I titled this as 'Valeria's girlfriend' but I ended up writing them as kind of unofficially married. Link to part 1 Link to part 3 Link to A03

Valeria knew something was wrong when you didn't pick up the phone. In all your years together, she never had to call for you more than once, you were always at her beck and call. Her face turned to stone as the call went to voicemail, it felt like her heart stopped and then started again with fire and poison. In hindsight, she should have worried about your safety first, but unfortunately, her insecurities got the best of her. Anger seethed within her as she thought of all the ways you had betrayed her the moment she left you alone. Infidel! Her right-hand man Rafael was looking at you closely when she left, no? How could she be so blind as to trust you? Of course, you were jumping around with her men behind her back - you seemed all innocent and pure, but sure enough the viper within revealed itself and finally slithered out of her tight grasp. Immediately, she called Rafael to check up on the house, and when he also didn't pick up the phone, she cut her trip short and packed her bags. El Sin Nombre doesn't need to explain why she's leaving early! She commanded her business partners to figure it out amongst themselves as she went to her chopper and rushed home. Her hands shook as she navigated the helicopter, her mind unable to stop thinking of all the ways you were intertwined with Rafael on your marriage bed; desecrating your marriage vows. Of course this would happen. Why would fate let Valeria get away with the betrayal she'd inflicted on Alejandro? It was only right that her karmic debt would catch up with her.

It was as she was lowering her helicopter on the freshly cut grass of your home that she began to realise her devastating mistake. Doors were left open with the curtains billowing with the wind, broken glass from shattered windows littered the entryway and, worst of all, dried trails of blood lead a path from the house to the bushes. Her heart caught at her throat as her eyes roamed frantically from one catastrophic sign to the other. Guilt coiled around her stomach and she cursed her darkness for having doubted your loyalty when really, you were fighting for your life. "Mi esposa," Valeria whispered as rushed out of her helicopter, the blades still cutting the air as she ran indoors, not even bothering to be cautious of any enemies that could still be lurking within the shadows. She knew there were bodies dumped behind the green bushes that you so tenderly cared for, but she couldn't make herself check for you there. Part of her hoped you were smart and had the time to hide somewhere good, but she knew you were as helpless as a child when it came to things like this. You, who were so kind and good, left to fend for yourself. How could she possibly think you'd remain unharmed within this field of work? Valeria selfishly forced a divine light like you to live in the shadows with her, of course you'd get snuffed out eventually. If not by Valeria's own hand, her selfishness and greed, her need to possess and own you at all times, then by the selfish and greedy hands of others. All these thoughts rushed through her as she ran from one hallway to another, rushing to your part of the mansion. Memories of violence clung to your home like spiderwebs, she could see the struggle that ensued in the doors left open when you'd normally keep them closed. In the flower vase that you lovingly refilled every week that now lay on the floor shattered, shattered like her heart. The flowers lay on the floor, dying.

"Mi corazon...," she whimpered and came to a stop right before your bedroom door, one hand clutching her chest as she stood there, too afraid to step in and face your fate. She could only hear the wind catching on your curtains and the light humming of your electric blanket. She could already picture the catastrophe. You were in bed, lathering your lotions on, probably adjusting your night light because you were too afraid to sleep in the dark without Valeria next to you. You were all snuggled for bed, probably waiting for her call on the phone, when somebody came for you. "God, give me courage," she said as she stepped inside and lifted her eyes.

It was as if you evaporated into thin air. She saw the marks your body left on the bed where you lay on it and your phone was still there. Valeria's eyes scanned every inch of the space, no blood or other fluids were on any of the surfaces. You were either taken, or whatever happened to you happened elsewhere. All your belongings were still there. She didn't want to have false hope, so she willed herself to look at the bodies left by the bushes. She charged through the rest of the houses, taking note of all the mess. Her chopper was still on as she crossed the garden you tended to, the sweet smell of roses faintly covering the stench of blood lifting from the pile of bodies. Rafael was there, along with the rest of her men who manned the house in her absence. Treacherous relief washed through her because you were not there. This was the most devastating attack that Valeria had ever experienced in all her years and she could not think of anyone that hated her enough to do this. A rival cartel? Unlikely. They were violent criminals, sure, but they still kept a code of conduct amongst themselves. El Sin Nombre was the biggest competitor out there, no one was so stupid as to do this.

Valeria went to the security room and saw the CCTV footage. Her heart stopped when she saw an all-too-familiar figure invading her home. The tall, dark man cut through her men and made his way directly to where her wife lay. It's like he knew exactly where she was. "Alejandro?" Valeria's heart dropped as she watched Alejandro prepare to break the door and attack her wife, who was shrouded in a naive innocence where she could never comprehend the attack she was about to experience.

Angry tears threatened to spill from her glassy eyes as she saw Alejandro's hand grab you by the throat and drag you out of your marital bed. The same bed that you made love in every night, now permanently defiled with the way he violently dragged you out of it. Bruises from his fingers would have definitely formed on your soft skin by now, if you were still alive. Valeria watched on as Alejandro handcuffed her wife and pushed her through the hallways, saying something to her ear whilst parading her through the home she was supposed to be safe in. It was no coincidence that Alejandro stared directly at one of the cameras as he pushed her wife forward, looking directly at Valeria's eyes. This was no incidental operation; this was deliberate and malicious. More so, it was fucking personal. Yes, this was where Valeria ran her operation, but it was also the home you and her nested in so lovingly. And now it was trampled all over by men in uniforms, just like those fallen flowers. She forced herself to watch on as you were put in a helicopter and disappeared in the night sky.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "I hope you're ready to talk now, sweetheart." After a few hours of silence, the door to the container you were kept in opened, bringing in some rays of sunlight before shutting again. The American, whom you now knew was called Commander Graves, entered along with Alejandro. It had been many hours since your abduction, you had no way of telling how long exactly. But you were tired and restless, and cold. You thought they might move you to a cell at least, but they made no effort to transfer you out of the metal container. Too afraid to say anything when not spoken to, you sat still and waited. You wondered if Valeria had noticed your absence yet but even if she did, how could she find you? "I'm not sure what to tell you, sir." You remained polite hoping that courtesy would make up for your lack of talking. "Don't be like that, there's plenty to tell. How about we start with this little business trip of hers?" Graves circled around you, placing his hand on your shoulder before finally coming to a stop. " What'du hear about it?" Graves had many years of experience underneath his belt when it came to interrogation, especially the violent ones. And so did the 141. That was made very clear from the beginning. If this was any ordinary member of the cartel, they'd have buried them by now. But spouses were different; you hurt them and there'll be hell to pay. Even worse, there'll be no chance of making a deal with Valeria. "Like I said, I just know she went away for it, sir, that's all."

"Hm," he said and dropped his hand. He moved to stand right in front of you. "Well, you must know something. You know she's El Sin Nombre. You know she runs the biggest drug cartel in Latin America. You know she runs an international operation, you know she has friends in many places. What am I missing here?"

You looked up at him. "That's basically it, sir. It's a drug operation. But I don't know where it comes from, who her manufacturers are, or how she sells it. She doesn't deal with small details." Graves was starting to lose his patience, and not with her but with Alejandro. He couldn't understand why he insisted on extracting a housewife instead of the real deal. Here he was trying to gather intel on those Russian missiles with a trophy wife who hasn't had a day out of the kitchen, let alone discussions with the biggest terrorist organisation in the world. It was time to cut loose and make the call. "Hermano, take over for me will ya? I'll be right back." Graves walked away, wondering what General Sherperd will think of this whole situation.

You were alone with Alejandro now, who paced up and down the compound like a restless animal. You wondered to yourself how similar he was to Valeria, she had the exact same habit when she was stressed. They were very similar in temperament; too similar. Aggressive, hard-headed and dominant. Part of you gloated at the whole situation. Here was a Colonel of the Mexican Army, a well-decorated military man, wasting his time with you, someone quite irrelevant in the grand scheme of things, all because of- "Your wife," he said, disrupting your thoughts and you suddenly realised you were staring at him. "Is that correct?" He nodded at your ring finger. "Yes, sir," you replied timidly. He was exactly like Valeria, and it worked in your favour. You've spent so many years living with your partner that it was almost too easy to deal with people like her. People who could fill up a room with their presence; intimidating, powerful people who could hurt you badly. The sort of people who made the world go round. People, in other words, who could be domesticated.

Because violence and intimidation aren't the only ways to get what you want. Alejandro scoffed, "you've come a long way from that food stand, huh?" He looked at you with a faraway look in his eye, his mind having entered that shrouded area of the psyche where apparitions of the past hover, always eager to glide into the present in the form of memories. Your heart softened both at the memory he was referencing and because, at that moment, he seemed so pitifully sad, having lost himself in reminiscence.

Many years ago, you helped your Abuela run her restaurant in Las Almas, which stood very close to where the Mexican Army had its headquarters. Your Abuela was a genius in strategy and profited a lot from the laziness of soldiers who couldn't be bothered to cook for themselves but who also didn't want to eat whatever the Army served. And that's how you met Valeria, who was regularly sent by her teammates to fetch a group order. Valeria picked up the food because it was expected of her, an unfortunate burden of being one of the youngest women in her squad. But over time, she did it because it meant she got to see you. To everyone's surprise, when Valeria ran away to work for the cartel, that quiet girl in the small restaurant vanished too. "Alejandro." His eyes snapped back into yours. "Lo siento mucho. I really didn't know about you and Valeria. I am not that kind of person." You knew exactly what this was all about. Sure, they wanted to get El Sin Nombre and Valeria *was* the head of the biggest drug operation in the world. And she *has* made Las Almas dance to the rhythm of her tune for the past decade. But this was all just a big temper tantrum. And if you played your cards right, you could leave unscathed. You continued, "Whatever happens, I just wanted you to know that. I am truly sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone."

Something changed in his eyes. You could already picture what was about to happen. After your sincere self-flogging will come his pity, then the remorse. He might chuck you in a cell to show that he's treating you like the criminal collaborator that they all think you are, but soon enough he'll arrive bearing the fruits of forgiveness. Just like Valeria, you told yourself. Like moths to a flame. "Hm," he mumbled to himself, his eyes roaming all over you. "I get it now." He cocked his head to the side, "eres una cosa encantadora." At that moment, you felt a change in the air, something dark hovered between you two. It made you shiver.

"Tell me, Y/N. Have you ever been with a man?"

Hope you enjoy this part! Promised tags: @justmare @sleepiemain @caffeineliker @lesvii @silas-222 I'll bring Valeria and her partner together in part 3! I've also thought of a cute backstory for them that I want to get into :) also sorry for ruining Alejandro, i made him so toxic in this fic 😭

[thinkingaboutbetterdays]

matchmaking. ( beck oliver x reader )

gif belongs to me

Your friendship with Tori stood the test of time despite her moving schools to Hollywood Arts. It was through Tori that you were introduced to Beck Oliver after you had come over to her house while the two were rehearsing lines. Tori knew from your expression which was calm and collected on the outside, you were immediately enamored with Beck who joked about your school taking Tori back.

You laughed lightly. "All deals are final."

Beck chuckled, glancing at your hands, quickly letting go when he realized he hadn't stopped shaking your hand. He ran his fingers through his hair, sending you a smile that made your cheeks burn.

"Hello? You came to see me? Best friend?"

You turned to Tori who held her hand up and you returned the sweater you had borrowed. "Thank you."

"It's fine." She smiled. "So how did the interview go?"

"I start Monday." You told her, glancing at Beck. "Well, I should let you two get back to rehearsing."

"You could stay?" Tori offered.

You shook your head, backing away to the door, almost tripping over the sofa, laughing it off. "No, you two be creative. I'm gonna go - somewhere. Not here." You sent Beck a smile, "It was nice meeting you. I finally have a face to put to the name."

Beck stared as you left, "Uh, you too!" He called out but it was too late the door was closed and when he looked at Tori the brunette was smiling. "What?"

"You think she's cute." Tori mimicked his awkward goodbye, and Beck took a seat on the sofa dismissing her claims. "Oh, come on." She mimicked the way you both stared at each other while shaking hands and Beck laughed off her assumptions.

"I just met her."

"So, you can still think she's cute which you totally do." She grinned.

"Doesn't she have a boyfriend?" Beck asked, picking up his script in an attempt not to sound too interested.

"They broke up yesterday." Tori joined him on the sofa. "She called last night to tell me about it."

Beck looked at the brunette who was excited at the possibility of two of her friends dating. "Don't you think it's a little soon to be asking her out on a date?"

Unable to argue with this logic, Tori relented and the two continued with their rehearsal for a few more hours. However, Tori's hopes that you and Beck would start dating never ended. Now and then you realized she was dropping hints about Beck and while you were interested you tried to appear as if you weren't too interested.

"He goes to a fancy school. I doubt he wants me hanging around. He seems really cool." You commented as you studied together one evening.

"He is really cool. And he says you are too." You looked at the brunette who sighed, "Too much?"

You nodded, smiling softly. "I appreciate it, really. I just don't want to jump into something right now."

While Tori never mentioned the subject to you again, you noticed that Beck just happened to stop by when you were at her house or she invited you to spend time with her friends from Hollywood Arts and you always ended up sitting next to Beck who you quickly realized was cool, but thoughtful and caring. And you knew Tori was seeing cupids flying around you both as you spoke, forgetting about the others. You could make Beck laugh like Tori had never seen and he could make you smile wider than she ever thought possible.

Tori knew that you would never make the first move. So she had to convince Beck to do it.

Beck was in his trailer when she entered and he turned when she closed the door, chewing his apple. "Come on in."

"Thank you." She replied with equal sarcasm. "I need to talk to you."

Beck, sensing the atmosphere changing, approached her, listening intently.

"It's about Y/N."

Beck went to walk away but Tori stopped him. "I know you like her." She began. "And I know she likes you too. She's just afraid of making the first move."

"You want me to ask her out?"

"Do you like her?" Tori asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Beck had shrugged this question off many times and replied with, "Yeah, she's pretty cool." But this time he sighed, and nodded. "Fine, alright, yes." Tori grinned. "I like her. But I'm not asking her out."

"What? Why not?"

"She said she doesn't know if she's ready to start dating yet." He explained.

"Because she wants to know if you feel the same way!" Tori exclaimed. She took out her cell phone and selected your contact, holding the phone out for Beck to see. "Now or never."

Beck thought for a moment before taking her phone and Tori grinned when he dialled your number. His eyes glanced around as he waited for you to answer, his nervousness showing until you picked up.

"Tori?"

"Hi, no it's Beck." He replied.

"Oh, hi!" You smiled.

"I have two tickets for a movie that's probably gonna be terrible. Do you want to go with me?"

You bit your lower lip, pausing for a moment as you understood that this was the moment you had waited for. "Yeah, sure. I love bad movies."

Beck grinned, and Tori held his arm as she jumped up and down. "Great! I'll pick you up on Friday at seven."

"See you then." You smiled as you hung up and Beck turned to Tori, chuckling when she squealed.

He held out her cell phone, and she took it. "Now, will you stop playing matchmaker?"

She nodded. "This is amazing!" She hugged him and he chuckled as he let her jump around, shaking his head.

He would later thank her for her interference after your date ended successfully and your presence in their group became more common, standing side by side with Beck who had never looked happier. And Tori knew from the way you looked at your boyfriend, you had never felt as happy as you did with him.

[madamechrissy]

♡ Time after Time ♡

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ CEO! Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Fingering, cunnlingus, cumming, dirty talk, jealousy (Gojo is kinda a dick again but he eats reader out good lol)

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 4,908

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ Gojo Satoru is your boss And you've been his head assistant for over two years now. You do everything for him, including and not limited to cleaning his messes, picking out his clothes, and writing his speeches. Sixteen hour days... night calls... You are tired of being overworked and at his beck and call. You decide you are going to put in your two weeks notice. He is shocked, and wants to try to keep you, because you're the best. But you know better. Right? . You really wanna fucking quit. You also wanna fuck him. Also, fuck him.

A/N (Kinda has 'two weeks notice' vibes a bit! No use of y/n.) Fully finished on Ao3 but I'm going to slowly get it all up here!

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

You balance the cups of coffee, one for Nanami, one for Gojo and one for yourself, cursing yourself for not just grabbing a drink carrier. You head up the elevator of Kamo tower, punching in your number, thankful that no one was in there and you could breathe for a moment.

Yesterday was intense.

This week has been intense. Since Gojo set his sights on you, it’s all you can do to keep it together lately. You feel nervous as you even think of seeing him back in his role as the arrogant ass of a boss, after feeling like you got to know him just a bit, that there was more to him. Was it enough to stay though?

The elevator dings and you walk out, smiling at Shoko and Suguru who were talking amongst themselves. They greeted you, as did nearly everyone that worked in the giant offices. You did know a lot of people for having no ‘friends’ per se. You peek as you turn towards Nanami’s desk, seeing him sit there contemplatively staring at a chart as his shoulder held the office phone to his ear.

You look to the left and see Gojo Satoru leaning against the office door, with a pretty young girl with blue hair leaning towards him, wearing a cute little business suit. You pause, looking down at your coffees in your hand, and then Gojo catches your gaze, hidden behind his shades.

He calls out your name and you internally curse, popping your and Nanami’s coffees on your desk real quick, before bringing Gojo his signature drink you got daily for him. A white chocolate mocha with extra sugar. You had absolutely no clue how he drank those and ate candy like he did and still had his lean physique.

“Here you go, Sir.” You said with a smile, handing him the Starbucks cup with his name on it. He gave you a little nod, taking it, peeking at your desk as if wondering why you had two cups.

“Thanks. This is Miwa, she is going to be helping you with the smaller tasks, like getting coffee for instance.” He took a sip, sighing, and you looked to the young girl, who was grinning up at Gojo like he was a rock star. Gojo tells Miwa your name, and she notices you for a moment.

“Oh! I’ve heard so much about you!” She takes your hand and shakes it with a sweet smile. You have to admit her energy is really kind, and you get no bad vibes from her. Even if she’s clearly wanting to pounce on Gojo.

“It’s great to meet you, Miwa. I certainly can use some help with these things so I can focus more on the business side of my work.” You sigh in relief a bit. Gojo was actually listening and trying to help. You should be happy, right?

Right?

“It’s so awesome to be here! Ahh Mr. Gojo is just the best isn’t he?” Miwa batted her dark blue lashes at Gojo, who preened under the attention like some fucking peacok, standing even taller as she leaned so close her breasts were against his shoulder.

“I am the best, it’s true. Aren’t I?” He peered at you. You snorted, instantly covering the action, and his jaw tensed. Miwa looked shocked at you.

“He’s an amazing boss and businessman. So what is her title exactly? Just so I know how to train her.”

He opens his mouth, but she cuts him off, yanking out her cell phone, handing it to you with puppy dog eyes. “Could you take a picture of us, please? ” She asks you, and you blink for a moment. Confused.

“Yeah, please. ” Gojo looks to you, pushing down his shades, those words dripping with reminders of yesterday. You feel your cheeks heating up as you take her little cell phone, scowling up at Gojo, who was grinning.

Oh yeah, you hate him.

You just remembered.

“Sure can, Miwa get close to him so I can get you both in the shot.” You say, saccarine dripping out of your words like venom.

You watch Gojo’s grin go away, jaw tensing. As if he couldn’t stand the thought of you not being jealous. You weren’t playing his games. Miwa literally squeals, standing in front of Gojo, grabbing his arm and putting around her shoulders. You remembered your selfie with Gojo, you weren’t touching or anything like this, but you remember how happy you were.

“Perfect. Smile, you two!” You watch him put on a little smile and throw his peace sign, as Miwa looks like she’s won the whole fucking lottery. “Love it. Look, Miwa, what do you think?”

Miwa bounces up and down and hugs you. “Ohmygod I love it! Thank you so much! My friends are gonna flip.” She giggled, texting away. You errantly notice her making it her phone background.

“I’m glad. I have a couple things to do but I’m here if you need help.” You told her, and she grinned brightly. She was adorable, you had to admit.

“Meet me in my office in a few.” Gojo told you firmly. You give him a little nod, barely acknowledging him.

“You got it, boss.” Your sarcasm drips like venom too. You give him a little two finger salute, and then go back to your desk, snatching up the coffees. When you turn back around Gojo is staring at you, eyes trailing up slowly across your body like a fucking caress.

You hate him.

He licks his lower lip, making it glossy, then turns, guiding Miwa into the office, who was still lovingly staring at her phone. They closed the doors and you roll your eyes as you think of whatever dirty shit his whore ass is gonna get to. Miwa seemed sweet so you almost wanted to warn her, but fuck it.

You head over to Nanami’s desk once more, and he’s just hanging up, giving you a little smile, just one side of his firm lips turning up, and you hand him his cup.

“It’s your usual.” You smile, and he sighs.

“Ugh thank you, I needed one.” He takes a sip.

“Of course.” You turn to head, but he surprises you by calling out your name. You turn back. “Hmm?”

“I could really use your help here. If you have a minute.” He gets up and yanks a chair from across his desk, pulling it next to him and patting it.

“ The Nanami Kento needs help from me?” You giggle, sitting down next to him, inhaling his woodsy scent. He was wearing one of his outrageous cheetah print ties, which went against the basic color suits he always wore.

“You’re an expert at figures.” He crooked his finger, and you leaned in, looking at his monitor, which had graphs and charts. “Could you make sure I’m not missing something?”

“Sure. Hmm. Scooch.” He scooches over, and you squeeze in next to him, starting to add and click. You’re right against him, legs brushing together, and damn if he wasn’t built like some action star, hard muscles against your firm thighs. You felt your pulse quicken a tad at the contact.

“You feeling warm? I can turn on my fan.” Nanami asks, looking at you, and you chew on your lip, remembering the embarrassing words you had said to Gojo the other night. Ugh.

“Could you?” Maybe it would help your redness. He leans across you, and you avert your eyes, to see Miwa sitting on Gojo’s desk, her legs dangling, Gojo in his seat, leaned back. They seemed to be enjoying themselves.

“Better?” He asks, and you feel the little breeze hit your chest. You sigh, smiling at him.

“Much. Thank you. I’m under that air vent over there it must be a little colder.” You know it’s bs but you roll with it. Your eyes peer back to Gojo’s office and you see he is now scowling at you, completely ignoring the blue haired girl in a skirt on his damn desk.

“Is she taking over when you leave?” Kento asked quietly. You looked at him, shrugging a shoulder a bit before focusing back on his chart, tapping the keyboard with your numbers.

“He hasn’t told me yet, and I still am not sure I’m leaving. But he said she’d be doing little things, like coffee runs and errands.”

“That is actually weirdly thoughtful.” Nanami pursed his lips a bit. You nodded.

“It actually is. I am supposed to talk to him later so I guess I’ll figure out my plans then.”

“I really wouldn’t like you to leave.” Nanami’s hand was on your thigh for just a moment, before yanking it off as if realizing you two were in an office, clearing his throat and pulling on his collar.

You felt confused. How could you even talk to him when you’d just been kissing Gojo yesterday? And what was that with Gojo anyway… it’s not as if Gojo would be with you. He hadn’t had a consistent girlfriend since you’d known him, instead opting for a bunch of women at once. So why even entertain those thoughts. But also what the fuck were you feeling?

Was orgasm brain that intense?

“Shit.” Nanami sighed. You realized you were in your head, making him feel awkward. You took his hand under the desk, smiling softly.

“No no. Don’t. I would miss seeing you too.” You told him, and he exhaled a bit, smirking then, peering at you under his shades.

“Hot as a friend huh.”

“Oh god!” You buried your head in your hands, and he laughed at you softly. “You’re teasing me!”

“Maybe a little.” You nudged him with your elbow, grinning. “We could be friends outside of work. If we could stay awake long enough.”

You grinned at him. “Yeah I’d like that. Are you trying to convince me to stay with the promise of your charming company?”

He scoffed. “So charming.”

“You kind of are.”

“Is it working?”

“Hmm. It may be. Maybe I should go work for Suguru.” You said with a sigh, Nanami laughed.

“It would be world war three. The only one worse to go to would be Sukuna.” He gave a little shiver.

“Oh gosh. Imagine. Okay, there. Got it all fixed.” You showed Nanami the figures on his monitor, and he leaned over your shoulder to look at them.

“You’re a genius.” His breath tickled your ear a little. You flushed.

“No, not at all. Just a nerd.” You turn your chair, finding you two rather close, and lowering your gaze a bit to focus on his tie. “You sure have the most interesting ties I’ve ever seen. Maybe I should get you a funky one for Christmas.”

“An ugly christmas tie? Ugh.” You laughed, standing then, and scooching your chair back in its place.

“I’d get a cute one. With snowmen.”

“Disgusting.”

You shook your head with laughter, and he stood, then too, as you took your coffee and sipped it. “The Starbucks girl asked for your number from me.” You said, and he turned slightly pink on his cheeks.

“Well shit.”

“Yeah, I told her to ask you personally. She said she was too nervous. She was cute.” You gave him a little smile. “Well, tell me if you need anything else, kay?”

“Thanks again. Oh, hey… you busy tomorrow night?”

“I never have plans.” You roll your eyes with a sigh. He chuckled.

“I understand that. But me, Shoko, and Suguru are grabbing drinks. And a couple people from work. You wanna come too?”

“Sure, that actually sounds really nice.” You’d have once turned down going out because of work making you so tired, but you realized you had to start putting yourself first. “I’ll be there for sure.”

“Good. We will have a drink. Since I’m your hot friend.” He winked, and you grimaced, blushing as he laughed softly at you.

“You are.” You winked back, giggling and running off to your desk. It was fun, just thinking of actually going out. Relaxing with everyone. You just almost get to your desk when Miwa is walking out of Gojo’s office, all starry eyed.

“I’ll get right on these, Mr. Gojo.” She had a stack full of papers.

“Thank you, Miwa.” He smiled at her, and she waved to you before running off. You turned to go to your desk but he paused you, saying your name. You looked up at him, sipping your drink.

“Hmm?”

“My office.” Was all he said, and you rolled your eyes, following him in, hearing him shut the door with a click behind you, locking it. You frowned, turning around, getting snatched up by him as he flicked shut the blinds with one button, pressing you into the door with his hard body.

“What… What the fuck!?” You demanded, shoving at him. He put his arms on either side of your head, lowering to your level, lips a breath from yours. You could nearly taste the mint, licking your lips nervously, eyes looking up into his, furiously scowling.

“Having fun flirting with Kento, were you?” He demanded, gritting his teeth together. You bit out a laugh, brows lowering over your eyes.

“Why do you care? Were you having fun with the view under that little assistant’s skirt as she fucking stroked your ego?”

He scowled, reaching a hand down to your waist, yanking you against his hard body. You ignore how good it feels. “You think she interests me?”

“You’re interested in any pretty thing with two legs.” You roll your eyes, leaning back to get away from him, but he yanks you closer.

“I hired her to help you with stupid shit. So that you’ll just stay.” He voice was husky, and you sighed, lowering your lashes.

“I know and I’m really thankful. But don’t act like she wasn’t all over you and you didn’t like it. That’s just bullshit.”

“You’re jealous as fuck.” He smirked cruelly, tilting your chin up, making you meet his goddamn eyes.

“You’re jealous. Not me.” You hissed. He raised a brow.

“Oh? Wouldn’t mind if I ate her out on this desk here, hmm?” His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You steeled yourself.

“Nope. Why would it? I’m used to you being a whole man whore. It doesn’t affect me at all.”

Liar.

“You’re a liar.”

You shoved at him, then, hard, but he didn’t budge, like fucking steel. You felt your body vicerally reacting to his big hand on your waist, thumb digging in. “You’re the one all fucking pissy I helped Nanami with some damn figures. Pulling me in here like some psycho.”

“You want to fuck him, still, do you?” He demanded angrily. You narrowed your eyes.

“What do you care either way? We’re not together.”

Gojo froze, and his hand dug in painfully, to where you winced, but your nipples hardened under your blouse. “I’m not fucking the new girl. You’re not as smart as I thought you were.”

“I’m very smart, thank you. Okay do you want a cookie, Satoru? A gold star? That you don’t fuck the little eighteen year old who wants your dick? I don’t even fucking care.”

He laughed, dark, digging his hand until it was in your hair, yanking it. “You act like you weren’t coming on my fingers yesterday.” You overheated, again, chest heaving, your breath coming out in little pants. His eyes went down your chest. “I can see you want me, now, even. Is my nun growing adventurous?”

“No the hell I’m not. I am… not… don’t want…”

“Can’t even finish your lie.” He slid a hand up to your breast, cupping it over your thin white blouse, moaning softly. “Not even wearing a bra are you? Is it because you wanted this?”

“Nope. I forgot.” You were lying to yourself. He plucked a nipple over the thin fabric, making you gasp.

“I’ve never seen you here not in some bra that makes these look smaller. As if that works. I could tell how big they were.” He pinched your nipple hard, and you cry out softly, before slamming a hand on your mouth. It was too late. He had the devious glint in his damn blue eyes.

“I hate you.” You bit out, and his hand went under your blouse, hot and hard, squeezing the softness of your breast, making you clench your teeth so that you didn’t moan again. He was grinning at you.

“Oh sweetheart, holding it in?” He pinched your nipple hard, twisting it just a bit, watching you falter, your knees wobble. He enjoyed it, like a predator with his goddamn pray, eyes drinking in your flushed face, your parted lips.

“Innapropriate workplace actions. I’m telling HR.” You start chuckling then, and Gojo did too, throwing his head back.

“I literally am HR.” He kissed you, and you bit his lower lip, trying to hurt him, but instead he moaned.

“You’re shit at HR, Satoru.” He bit your lower lip now, licking it, as if it was a little apology. You sighed. It felt good. “Mmm. Stop.”

“Why?” His whisper was alluring, it shot your brain down, and spoke directly to your pussy. Fucking Gojo.

“Because we’re at work, dick! Also you’re acting jealous when I’m sure you’ll be fucking the new girl.”

“You’re stupid as shit.” You scowled, and went to slap him. He snatched your wrist, slamming it into the door, trapping you. “I want you, how fucking clear should I make this?”

“I won’t be one of your-”

“I. Want. You.” He shook you as he spoke. You blinked, shaking your head. “Oh, I don’t?”

“You just want to have fun, play some game with me.”

“I don’t play games.”

“Sure the fuck do.”

“Let’s play this game then. The quiet game.” You yelp as he picks you up with ease, carrying you to his big mahogany desk, sitting your ass on it.

“The what?” You wriggled, and he scooched up your skirt, eyeing you, thin brow raised. “What are you…”

“Shh.” He put a finger to your lips. “You think I wanna play games when all I wanna do is fucking taste you.”

“Oh…” You felt yourself dripping, and he yanked down your pink panties, already damp, the cool air smacking your cunt. “I… why…”

“Because you taste good.” He whispered, sitting in his office chair as you were spread apart for him, eyes raking you in intimately. He kissed your thigh, nipping, then biting hard. You start to cry out and he grins. “Ah ah. Quiet game. Keep that pretty mouth shut, baby girl.”

“Gojo… we can’t! I…” You trembled when he barely brushed his thumb against your clit, swirling in your desire.

“Already so wet and all we did was kiss.” He teased you, blowing gently on your already sensitive clit, making you cry out, jerking your whole body. “Stop lying. Tell me the truth.”

“What truth? Unh!” Pleasure shot through your body, straight up through your tummy, making you ache when he placed a kiss right above where your swollen clit was, torturing you. “Satoru…”

“Tell me you want me to. That you need me to.” He murmured, and you hated him more. He took all your defenses away.

“I won’t.” You tried to close your legs, but he pushed them open,

“You’re so fucking stubborn. Admit you want it.” He flicked his tongue on your clit then, and you gasped, covering your mouth with your hand, eyes rolling back in pleasure you had never felt before. “Say it, fucking brat.”

���No.” He yanked away, and you cried out, then he smacked your pussy, enough to sting, and you hated that you actually liked it. You slid up on your elbows, and before you knew it he had your shirt wide open, your breasts spilled out, and he leaned over you in his black suit, gorgeous as fuck.

“You want me to make you cum, don’t you?” His silken words did things. You couldn’t lie when his face was against yours, his forehead touching yours.

“Yes.” It was weak, pathetic, you were shivering. His lips brushed yours, and you felt things, more than physical. When he was breathing heavily, his eyes lidded, lips parted, affected by you too. You reached your hands up to the lapels of his jacket, lifting your hips up. “Do you want me, though?”

He let out a breathy laugh, as you ran your hand down his shirt, feeling his hard chest. “You think I don’t want you, fucking brat? What, you think I wanted that little Miwa girl?”

You nod, feeling emotions you shouldn't be blinking back stupid tears. “Why wouldn’t you? You are Gojo Satoru. You can have whoever you want.”

“I want you. Silly girl.” He kissed down your breasts, to your nipples, flicking a tongue on them and then sucking. Your hands went into his silky hair. “Tell me what you want. Words, baby girl.”

“I want… I want you to…” You were stammering, blushing. He looked up at you, smiling.

“You’re so cute. I’ll make it easier.” He returned to between your thighs, kissing them softly. “Say you want to come on my face.”

“That’s a lot!” You covered your face, so nervous, so shy out of nowhere. He could see you wide open. He pulled your hands down.

“Your pussy is so pretty.” He purred. “Nervous?”

“I just haven’t… I want to…”

“Say it.” He kissed you there again, breath hot against where you were already dripping wet.

“I want to come on your fucking face.” You couldn’t believe the words out of your mouth, what this man did to you. “Please, make me.”

“As the lady commands.” He said softly, then his head dipped, and the sight of his white hair between your thighs was enough to make you melt, but his tongue sliding up your slit… 

“Jesusfucking shit ahh!” He laughed against you, peeking up.

“Quiet game.” He winked, and you nodded, biting your knuckles as he did the motion once more, your pussy pulsed around nothing, aching. You couldn’t believe you were here, wide open, on your boss’s desk. And you begged for it.

“Mmm.” You moaned into your hand when his fingers spread your plump lips apart, tongue sliding in deliciously, like nothing you could describe, as his finger found the hood of your clit, pulling up for his tongue to slide back and flick. You jerked, and he held your hip down, tilting his head and starting to flick faster and faster.

You started panting, breath heaving, hand balled into a fist as your cries muffled into it. The only noise in the office was Gojo slurping up your wetness and your little sighs of pleasure, as he literally drank you in. He slid a finger in you, looking up at you, and you see his chin is glistening with your desire.

“Fuck.” He whispered, and you felt yourself fall apart, pulsing around his finger. He groaned and flicked his tongue as his finger massaged your g spot, and it was impossible not to make noise. You shoved both hands on your face, crying out, shaking. Everything went dark then fuzzy, and you became so dripping wet his finger slid with ease.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” Your hips twitched against him, as he licked you through your orgasm, then kept licking after, when you were so sensitive you couldn't handle it. “Satoru… unh… so good I-”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You freak out, trying to close your legs, but he grins like some Demon, his whole face wet at this point, making you blush in embarrassment. He licks his lips, continuing crooking that finger deep in you.

“Yes?” He asks calmly, calmly, hitting a spot that made you ache, shoving his hand on your mouth now. His eyes drank in your face.

“Mr. Gojo I have that done… I wanted to talk to you. Are you busy?” Miwa's voice came from the other side. Gojo was studying your expressions as his hand pressed hard, the other now fucking you with two fingers. You moaned against his hand, body rolling in overstimulation.

“I am a little busy right now. Is it important?” He asks so calmly. He smirks at you, not stopping his fingers from fucking you. Your eyes roll back, back arching, clinging to his wrist like some fucking lifeline.

“Oh no, I actually heard there's a work get together Friday. Can I come?” He laughed that laugh of his, looking right into your eyes.

“You can come.” As he said it he pushed in deep, and you started pulsing again, falling apart when his palm put pressure on your clit. You wanted to fucking scream.

“Thank you!” She ran off and Gojo eased his fingers out, shoving them in your mouth.

“Suck them off.” He ordered, and you did, so much of your wetness, and your pussy ached, empty, oversensitive, the air hurting your puffy aching lips. “You admit you're jealous. Now. I saw it on that face.”

“I can't be.” You finally whispered as he eased his hand off your mouth.

“You like to lie to me. Its annoying.” He pulled you down on wobbly legs, bending you over his desk. He slapped the fuck out of your bare ass.

“Dick! That hurts!” You hiss, it was no sexy little slap, he had left a whelp. It stung and burned and brought tears to your eyes.

“Admit it.” He bent over you, whispering in your ear, finger caressing your slit. “You want me to yourself. Already. Greedy little bitch.”

“Do… Not. Am not. Ow!” He smacked you so hard you jerked forward.

“You like it.” He played with your cunt. “She's stupid fucking wet.”

“Yes I like it ugh!” You tensed waiting for another smack, but instead he kissed your neck. So sweet. A walking contradiction.

“Good girl. Now. You're jealous. Say it.”

“Why? Why do this.”

“I want you to admit it.” He caressed your backside, thumb brushing your sickness.

“I shouldn't be.”

He paused, then sighed, kissing your bare shoulder. “Neither should I.”

You froze, turning your head, and your eyes met. Had he said that? Admitted that… was he… were you…

“Yeah. I am.” You sighed, hating what he made you admit. He wasn't grinning though. He kissed you, taking your breath away, hands finding your breasts.

“You're beautiful.” He whispered, and you felt it. You lost yourself in the kiss. You wanted more, arching your hips up, ass against his rock hard length pressing against his dress pants. He moaned, grip tightening.

“Fuck me.” You watched his jaw drop. “Please, Satoru. Please fuck me.”

Gojo lost it, turning you around, kissing you wildly, tongues dancing, saliva dripping between you. You drank each other's moans as he pressed hard against you, and you grinded on him, throwing your head back.

“I want you to come around my cock, tight and pulsing. I want to fucking push my come inside you. Fill you the fuck up.” He was pressing so hard you wanted to come again from just friction. 

“Mnh. Do it. I can take it.” He laughed a bit, easing from you, pecking kisses on your neck.

“Am I old fashioned? I kind of want my first time with you in my bed.” You felt like an idiot, burying your face in his chest. “Hey…”

“I'm such a hoe, ‘fuck me here on your desk’. And you are like let's wait. I think the orgasm brain is dangerous.”

He laughed softly, pulling your face up to look at him. “I'd fuck a normal woman right here and be done. I just think I'd like to spend my time with you. A lot of time.” His jaw tensed. “Fuck. Maybe my brain is fried from your orgasms.”

You started laughing, hands trembling as you attempted to button your shirt. “Shit.”

“Let me.” His calm hands made quick work of adjusting your clothes. He found your panties and slid them up you. “I want you. Do you see now.” You nod shyly. “Good. Now go think of my tongue on you while you flirt with fucking Nanami.”

“Ugh! Stupid.” You shook your head and he grinned. His pretty fucking eyes bore into you. He could see through you. “I was just talking to him.”

“And so was I with Miwa.” He helped adjust your hair.

“This is… it feels good.” You leaned back as he brushed out your hair with his fingers. He kissed you once more. 

“Get back to work now, assistant. I need you to get on that presentation.” He tapped your nose. You rolled your eyes.

“Yes Mr. Gojo.” You batted your eyelashes. He snorted.

“Wish I liked nice girls and not this evil fucking bitch.” He smacked you again, over your skirt. You smirked at that.

“Wish I liked a nice guy and not a demon.”

“Demon with an amazing tongue.” He stuck it out and you bit your lip, making him chuckle darkly.

“It is, but you're still a dick.”

“And you're a bitch. A bitch who tastes really good.” Your whole body was jello. You'd never felt that fucking good.

And now you have to work.

What the fuck happened…

Did you just admit you liked him? Begged him to fuck you on his desk?

That tongue had done things...

Yep you were screwed.

Chapter 6

Chapter on A03:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55424137/chapters/141034786

[historicalvandal]

*gasp!* You do requests?! Oooh, get ready to have me swamp your inbox. Sorry in advance 😆

What are your thoughts, headcannons, everything about koba slowly (500k slow burn, enemies to friends to something???? lol) getting used to *cough* catching feeling *cough* for a human Ceaser brought into the colony, and said human got interested quickly with koba and kinda bugs him like a cat.

💚- anon

I do I do!! :D I'm excited about having requests open rn- you are practically my first requester lmfaooo- So thank you sm! :DDD <333 My thoughts first off - To start off I think it'd make such a sweet but also soul crushing fanfiction, and I would thrive writing that lmao- But thoughts on it, my thoughts about how the relationship would start is somewhat obvious, Reader follows him around like a cat all the damn time, and Caesar does nothing to stop it because maybe this is a chance for Koba to learn that not all humans have such a harsh hand that they can be gentle, they can care, and Koba is just so peeved about that- Why should he have to teach the stupid human how to integrate into ape society? Why does Caesar think that this job is well suited for him out of all the apes? I think somewhere down the line, possibly after a bad hunting trip when he's gotten himself hurt, when reader has to drag him back to the colony or they have to hide it out because it's raining too hard and they're too far from the colony, forcing them to be in close proximity, he has this feeling that he can relax because Reader asks if they can tend his wounds, is gentle with him once he gives permission, because obviously he doesn't want to deal with getting an infection if reader knows how to tend wounds with what they have on hand, possibly learning how to heal someone through the insistence of maybe Maurice or because they spend time with the healers to begin with when they first entered the colony, nearing like the antithesis of him having dreams about Reader, how they looked drenched right through, shivering and freezing, droplets of water running down their smooth and soft looking skin, but not a care for if they'd get sick because Koba is hurt, he dreams about how they looked at him, how their bottom lip jutted out in concentration as they gently ran whatever dry piece of their clothing they used to quell the bleeding from his wounds, he'd dream about reader a lot I mean in my thoughts yk? Some headcanons for a fanfic like this ; - Koba is less then gentle, he's downright mean toward reader in the beginning, because he hates humans but also because he believes they don't belong, but mainly because reader just won't leave him alone! - Something more softer when they begin to get close, Koba starts to feel as if he can trust Reader, so he asks Caesar if their nest can be closer to his, and he goes to reader to tend his wounds, more then happy to sit in silence as Reader gently tends to him, as if they are his mate. - Further down the line, when he finally realises he has feelings, Koba would try and listen to what Caesar tells him to do- Leading to Koba gift giving but not being able to say out loud that he has these feelings. - If Reader and Koba are together, they become a mated pair, he's the type to be jealous if any male ape tries to speak in any other manner other then in passing, still it makes him jealous. - Reader is the only one who gets to touch Koba as much as she wants. not even Caesar is allowed to touch him unless it's a friendly pat on the back, Koba would be addicted to how gentle Reader is with him. - Reader would be the type to tell Koba about human romantic traditions, so he's taken to calling their hunting trips together a date, mans does not understand why that made Reader all giddy but it has made him crack a small smile once or twice. - Koba can and will die for his mate, but would prefer killing for Reader instead, he's there at Readers beck and call, it is readers name he whispers at night, and Reader who whispers his name at night, he is Readers and Reader is his. - He is also just very loyal in my opinion, would not look at anyone else in any way other then kindly. I hope these are all alright, i've never written much like this before but I'm excited to see the reactions I garner from this!

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - mentions of drug use

y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷

Chapter 11

Matt Sturniolo created his own world; only in his own environment did he feel secure, comfortable, and protected. A genuine camaraderie was created at Graceland. We lived as one big family, eating, talking, arguing, joking, playing, and traveling together.

Although I became friends with the guys in Matt’s retinue, he never let me, or anyone else, forget that I was his girl. I was never to get too close or become too familiar with any of the regulars.

One evening, after we came home from a movie, we said good night to everyone and went upstairs. Returning to the kitchen a few minutes later to get something to eat, I found Jerry Schilling, who’d just started working for Matt, making himself a snack. We started talking. A few minutes later, Matt appeared.

“What the hell are you two doing down here?” he shouted at us.

Intimidated, Jerry said, “Well, Matt, we were just talking. I was asking her how she felt, because she didn’t feel well this afternoon.”

“I came down to get something to eat,” I explained.

“y/nn, you don’t need to be roaming around here late at night,” he said, angrily ordering me upstairs.

Behind me, I could hear him lashing out at Jerry. “If you want to keep this job, son, you mind your own business. If there’s anyone who’s going to ask her how she feels, it’ll be me. You better mind your own goddamn business.”

I liked Jerry. He was warm, sincere, and very personable; just a couple of years older than I, he was one of the few people who I could relate to. But from that time on, it was a dodging match every time we’d run into each other. Now Jerry and I laugh about the “good old days” when we reminisce.

Most of the boys who worked for Matt had been around from the beginning and they knew all about him—his sense of humor, his sensitivity, and his temper. He stripped himself bare in front of them, and they accepted him for what he was.

Yet working for Matt was a twenty-four-hour-a-day job, and the boys were at his beck and call constantly. They played when he played and slept when he slept. It took a certain kind of personality to put up with his demands, whether they made sense or not.

“Come on, y/nn, let’s go to Los Angeles. I’ll show you where I film movies.,” he said one afternoon when we’d only been up for a few hours. He called downstairs and told Alan to alert everyone that he wanted to leave within the hour.

Alan said, “Okay, Boss. I think Richard and Gene are still sleeping. I’ll give ’em a call and tell ’em to come right over.”

“Their lazy asses are still sleeping?” Matt asked. “I’ve been up for two goddamn hours. They should have been over here by now. Alan, from now on, when I call down for my breakfast, call the boys and tell them I’m up and to be ready for anything, and that may include me not even coming downstairs. I just want them here.”

Demanding? Yes, but Matt could be just as generous. By today’s standards the boys’ salaries were not high—the average paycheck was $250 a week—but if the boys ever felt the pinch by the end of the month, they would go to Matt. They’d ask him if he could help them out with a down payment on a house or the first and last months’ payments on an apartment. Matt always came through for them, lending them the one thousand or five thousand or ten thousand dollars they asked for. He was rarely if ever paid back.

There also was no limit to the expensive gifts he gave them—television consoles for Christmas, bonus checks, Cadillac convertibles, Mercedes-Benzes. If he heard someone was sad or depressed, he loved to surprise them with a gift, usually a brand-new car. When he gave to one, he would usually end up giving to all.

James didn’t have much respect for the guys. He said Matt just gave and gave and gave, and they took and took and took. He’d say, “Son, we have to save.” Matt would answer, “It’s only money, Dad. I just have to go out and make more.”

James resented the regulars acting as if Graceland was their personal club. They’d go into the kitchen at any hour and order anything they wanted. Naturally, everyone ordered something different. The cooks worked night and day keeping them happy. James felt, “To hell with the boys. Their main concern should be Matt.”

What was really outrageous was that the regulars were ordering sirloin steaks or prime ribs while Matt usually ate hamburgers or peanut butter and banana sandwiches.

I wasn’t too popular around Graceland when I started reorganizing the kitchen. I set down a policy of having one menu per meal, and anyone who didn’t like what was on it could go to a local restaurant. This new edict resulted in much grumbling from the guys, but the cooks were relieved, and James sanctioned my decision, announcing, “It’s about time someone organized the meals. It was beginning to look like we were feeding half of Boston.”

Matt was the boss, the provider, and the power. Both the boys and I had to protect him from people who annoyed or irritated him and were no longer in his favor. Before coming down for the evening, he’d have me call downstairs to check who was there. I’d run down the guests, aware that certain names would strike him wrong.

“Shit,” he’d say, his mood destroyed. “What’s he want? Bring me some more bad news?” He’d stay up in his room rather than spend an evening with someone he didn’t like. There was one particular regular who had incurred his disfavor, and Matt told everyone he didn’t want him around. “Don’t let him through those goddamn gates!” Matt ordered. “All I have to do is look at his face and I get depressed.” Matt barred him from Graceland for a number of years, saying, “If he changes his morbid attitude, maybe I’ll change my mind.” His perceptions were correct, as these “friends” eventually betrayed him.

Matt and James kept some of their relatives at a distance because, as Matt explained to me, they’d shunned him when he was growing up, ridiculing him as a sissy, a mama’s boy. Mary Lou stood up for Matt and told his tormentors to go their own way. Angrily, she had said, “Don’t bother us with these accusations.”

Then fame and fortune hit, and suddenly all the kinfolk came around, begging for jobs or crying that they needed help. Sometimes Matt got upset, charging, “The only time they visit is with their hand out. It’d be nice if they’d come around just to see how I was doing. But hell no, it’s always, ‘Ah, Matt, I could use a little extra cash. Could you help me out?’ Hell, I’ll bet when I’m dead and gone, they’ll still be taking advantage.” But Matt ended up slipping each of them a hundred dollars or more every time they came around. If it had been up to James, he would have gotten rid of every one of them. But Matt kept saying, “No, Dad, they don’t have any place to go. They couldn’t work anywhere. Keep them here.”

From the beginning of his success, Matt put many family members on salary, and all had titles. James was his business manager; Patsy, his personal secretary; uncles Vester Sturniolo and Johnny and Travis Smith, and cousin Harold Lloyd, gate guards; cousins Billy, Bobby, and Gene, personal aides; and then there was Tracy Smith, who seemed to go from brother to brother for support. Matt took care of everyone.

I remember one night at Graceland when Matt came back to the kitchen and saw Tracy pacing the floor. “Hey, Tracy,” he said, “How ya doing, man?” Tracy, his hands in his pockets, could hardly look Matt in the eye. “I don’t know, Matt,” he sighed. “What do ya mean, you don’t know? Everyone knows how they’re doin’, man.”

Tracy, shifting back and forth, mumbled, “I got my nerves in the dirt, Matt.” Matt staggered back, laughing. “Nerves in the dirt! Hell, I never heard it expressed like that before. You need some money, Tracy?”

Again, Tracy just shifted back and forth, as Matt called Nate over and told him to give Tracy a bill. A big smile covered Tracy’s lined face as he happily took his hundred dollars and walked out the door.

Matt knew that having his nerves in the dirt was Tracy’s way of saying he was down and out—and worried sick about it. He never forgot that phrase. “Poor ol’ Matt,” he’d say. “I’ll never forget the look on his face that night, poor ol’ guy.”

That was Matt—always caring, always sensitive to everyone’s needs, even while presenting a macho image to his fans and friends.

Anything I could think of doing for him, I did. I made sure Graceland was always warm and inviting, with the lights turned low, as he preferred them, the temperature in his bedroom set to his exact desire (freezing), and the kitchen filled with the aroma of his favorite meals.

Every night before dinner was served, I came downstairs first, checked with the maids to see that his food was just the way he liked it—his mashed potatoes creamily whipped, plenty of cornbread, and his meat burnt to perfection. I always had candles on the dining room table to create a romantic atmosphere despite the fact that we always ate with several of the regulars.

I loved babying Matt. He had a little-boy quality that could bring out the mother instinct in any woman, a beguiling way of seeming utterly dependent. It was this aspect of his charm that made me want to hold him, shower him with affection, protect him, fight for him, and yes, even die for him. I went to extremes in taking care of him, from cutting his steak at dinner to making sure his water glass was always filled. I enjoyed pampering and spoiling him and found myself jealous of others vying for his attention and approval.

But I didn’t always receive his approval. If something went wrong with his dinner, Matt blew up. “Why isn’t this steak done? Why didn’t you make sure the maids cooked it right? If you’d have done your job, it wouldn’t have turned out like this.” Obviously something else was wrong, and I didn’t recognize it at the time. Because of the continuous pressures and problems in Matt’s life, all magnified by taking prescribed drugs, little things would set him off. I took responsibility for everything in his life and always took it all too personally.

I wanted to be with Matt as much as I could, but while going to the movies or the fairgrounds every night might have been a wonderful way for him to relax, it posed an enormous problem for me. Often I wouldn’t get home until 5 or 6 a.m., and I’d have to be at school two hours later. Sometimes I never went to sleep. When I did, I could barely make it out of bed. I would lie there trying to drum up the strength to face the day, Matt making it even harder by suggesting that I sleep in and cut classes. It would have been so easy to go along with his suggestion, but hanging over me was the agreement I’d made with my parents. They trusted me and even though I was letting them down, I still had to keep up the facade.

Day after day I drove to school, attended classes till noon, then returned to Graceland to slip back into bed and cuddle next to Matt, who was still sound asleep. When he awoke at 3 or 4 p.m., I might never have left his side for all he knew. I was there to give him his usual order of orange juice, a Spanish omelet, home-fried potatoes, a mere two pounds of bacon, and—first and foremost—his black coffee.

Everyone who knew Matt was aware that it took him at least two to three hours to wake up fully. Asking him to make a decision, even a simple one such as what movie he wanted to see that night, was ill-advised. He was just too groggy and irritable from the sleeping pills, which were causing him to sleep as many as fourteen hours a day. It seemed only natural for him to take some Dexedrine to wake up.

I was always concerned about his intake of sleeping pills. His horror of insomnia, compounded with a family history of compulsive worrying, caused him to down three or four Placidyls, Seconals, Quaaludes, or Tuinals almost every night—and often it was a combination of all four. When I expressed my concern, he just picked up the medical dictionary, always near at hand on his night table.

“In here is the explanation for every type of pill on the market, their ingredients, side effects, cures, everything about them,” he assured me. “There isn’t anything I can’t find out.”

It was true. He was always reading up on pills, always checking to see what was on the market, and which ones had received FDA approval. He referred to them by their medical names and knew all their ingredients. Like everyone else around him, I was impressed with his knowledge and certain that he was an expert. One would think he had a degree in pharmacology. He always assured me that he didn’t need pills, that he could never become dependent on them. This difference in opinion resulted in many serious confrontations; I always compromised my integrity and ended up taking his viewpoint.

I began taking sleeping pills and diet pills too. Two Placidyls for him and one for me. A Dexedrine for him and one for me. Eventually Matt’s consumption of pills seemed as normal to me as watching him eat a pound of bacon with his Spanish omelet. I routinely took “helpers” in order to get to sleep after wild rides at the fairgrounds or early-morning jam sessions. And I routinely took more “helpers” when I woke up in order to maintain the fast pace and, more importantly, to study for my final exams.

During the last month before finals, I started popping more dexies than before. They seemed to give me the energy I needed to get through classes and homework. Every free moment was devoted to cramming a whole semester’s work into a few weeks. But my concentration was scattered; the strain of life at Graceland had finally caught up with me.

I had already been warned by Sister Adrian that in order for me to graduate, I had to pass all my subjects. During a talk in her office, I wanted desperately to confide in her and explained how hard it was to maintain my grade level with the late hours I kept: But how could I tell that to a nun?

I had no real goals after graduation, but I did sometimes dream of becoming a dancer or possibly enrolling in an art academy. Now I realize that I was deeply influenced by Matt’s casual attitude toward continued schooling. He figured I didn’t need it and I agreed. Just being with him most of the time would provide an education—not to mention experience—that no school could give me. He wanted me to be his totally, free to go to him in an instant if he needed me.

That sounded great to me. I’d never planned on a future without Matt. Therefore, while my classmates were deciding which colleges to apply to, I was deciding which gun to wear with what sequined dress. I was tempted to say to Sister Adrian, “Oh, by the way, Sister, does gunmetal gray go with royal blue sequins?” With that attitude it was no surprise that I was still woefully unprepared for my most hated subject, algebra, the week before finals.

On the day of the test, I sat in the crowded classroom, hyper from downing a dexy, trying to work out the problems. Despite my effort, I knew there was no way I was going to pass. I started to panic. I had to graduate. I had an obligation to Matt and to my parents, who I knew would yank me out of Graceland the minute I failed this test. I glanced at the girl next to me—and at her completed test paper. It’s my last resort, I thought. I’m going for it. I was not willing to face the consequences of being sent home for failing this test.

Her name was Janet and she was a straight A student. I tapped her on the shoulder and flashed my brightest smile, whispering, “Are you a Matt fan?” Taken aback by my question, Janet nodded yes. “How would you like to come to one of his parties?” I asked.

“Are you kidding?” she replied. “I’d love to.”

“Well, I know a way that it can be arranged.”

I eyed her test paper and explained. Janet instantly grasped my dilemma and, without a word, slid her paper to the edge of her desk. Now I had a full view of her answers. I spent the rest of the hour furiously copying them down and I not only passed, but I got an A on that test.

I hadn’t expected Matt to make much of my graduation. His attitude was, “A diploma’s not that important; life’s experiences are.” But to my surprise, he really looked forward to it and arranged to have a big party for our friends after the ceremony. There he presented a beautiful red Corvair, my first car.

On the big night he was like a proud parent. Nervous about what he should wear to the ceremony, he finally settled on a dark blue suit, and I put on my navy blue gown. I couldn’t possibly keep the cap on over that mass of teased hair.

Matt had a limo waiting for us out front. But there was one problem: I did not want him to come to the actual ceremony. It would attract a lot of attention, and all eyes would be focused on him instead of the graduating seniors.

Finally I worked up enough courage to ask him to wait outside, and explained why. Smiling his funny little grin, the one that came to his lips when he was hurt or upset, he agreed without hesitation. “I hadn’t thought about that,” he said. “I won’t come in. I’ll just be outside in the car waiting for you. That way I’ll kinda be there.”

And that was what he did. I accepted my diploma with mixed emotions. I would have loved for him to have been watching, but only I knew what a physical, emotional, and mental strain it had been to get that piece of paper. To me, it represented freedom, freedom to stay out until dawn if I wanted and sleep all day if I wanted. It represented freedom from my school uniform and from the teasing the entourage subjected me to every time they caught me in it trying to sneak past them at Graceland. I was a big girl playing in the big leagues.

As soon as I could get away, I ran outside. In front of the church, Matt and the boys were standing by the long black limo, looking like the Chicago Mafia in their dark glasses and suits, each concealing a.38. Around them a group of nuns were clamoring for Matt’s autograph.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd. This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - so cute🎀

[hangmansgbaby]

Always Darling | 5 | J.Seresin

H E R E W E G O A G A I N

Summary: 5 years after the Uranium Mission, Jake and Willow think they’re at a calm in their life. But not everything is as it seems.

Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OC!Willow "Vixen" Seresin, brief mentions of Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x OC Daughter!Willow "Vixen" Seresin and Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x OC God Sister!Willow "Vixen" Seresin

Warnings: lots of crying, mentions of divorce, Seresin kids are sad, Cute Seresin family moments… lemme know if I should add more!

Note: let’s not talk about the 4 months it took me to write this 😁🙃

Apr 2024 note: I did end up updating this into an OC as I dont write my series as a reader insert anymore.

Word count: 5k

Masterlist | Always Darling Masterlist

“Beckett Walker give me back my book!” 12 year old Ellorie shouts chasing her 4 year old little brother.

“Woah slow your roll little man!” Willow laughs as Beckett runs between her and the kitchen cabinet. Beckett laughs running past Elle as she runs into the kitchen.

“Ugh! Mom! Beck stole my book!”

“Okay okay, I’ll get him.” Willow sets down the bread in her hand and walks out to the living room. “Beck, honey, where’s your sister’s book?”

“I wanna read too, mama!” Beck jumps onto the couch, the book clutched tight in his hands.

“I know buddy but this is Elle’s book, if you ask nicely maybe she’ll read you one of your books.”

“Please Ellie!” He pleads, pulling the puppy dog eyes.

“Come on Beck. Let's go pick one out.” Elle sighs, guiding her brother to his room.

“You’re such a good big sister.” Willow laughs, going back to the kitchen.

“Only because I have too!” Willow chuckles at the comment, knowing Elle loves being a big sister. Willow returned to the kitchen, making the kids lunches for school when Jake walked out of the bedroom.

“Good morning Commander Seresin.” Jake smiles, kissing his wife.

“What's up with you?” Willow questions, putting the various items into the lunch pails.

“Can’t be excited to see my beautiful wife in the morning?”

“You can when you say ‘my beautiful wife’ but my rank? Somethings up Jake.” Willow turns around in Jake’s hold, his hands resting on the counter on either side of her.

“Okay okay. I got a call today.”

“And?”

“12 month deployment. We leave next week.” Jake sighs.

“Shit.” Willow drops her head to Jake’s shoulder. “A whole year?”

“I’ll find an excuse to not go? Maybe baby number 3?” Jake smirks, raising his brows at her.

“One, no more kids. Beck is the last one. Two, there’s no getting out of deployments, even with a pregnancy. Remember the mission a week before Beck was born?” Willow sighs, rubbing Jake’s shoulders.

The day Jake had to leave was almost as hard as when Willow found out Jake went missing. The pregnancy had been so much worse than Elle’s. Morning sickness lasted the whole nine months and Willow had at least 5 scares in the last 3 months and to top it all off, Jake was still overseas until Beck was 6 months old. He barely made it to a serviced area to be there over FaceTime.

“You gonna be okay?” Jake questions, holding her close.

“We’re always okay.” Willow smiles. “But ask me again when you call, I may be crying cause I miss you so much.”

“Hey, we’ll get through it. We always do.” Jake presses a kiss to her lips before stepping away. “But we have a whole week together. Beck! Elle! Let's go! We're gonna be late!”

“Coming!” Elle shouts.

“You wanna be on drop off duty today?” Willow asks, handing Jake the kids lunches.

“Of course darlin. See you at work.”

“Bye mama!” Elle runs by hugging her mom as she passes.

“Bye bye mama.” Willow squats to Becks level and he kisses her cheek.

“Such a gentleman.” She leads him outside, Beck insisting Willow walk outside first. “Be good for Daddy, little man.”

“Love you mama!” Both Elle and Beck shout as they climb into Jake’s truck, Beck with Jake’s assistance.

“See you on base darlin.” Jake kisses his wife again before climbing in and pulling out of the driveway.

Willow smiled, waving as the truck drove by, disappearing from her sight. She quickly heads back inside grabbing her things before climbing into her own car and heading to base.

“Hey Vixen.”

“Hey Bradley. Leaving with the team next week for the deployment?” Willow unlocks her office and Bradley follows her in.

“No, I had some leave pre-approved. I’ll be in Virginia for about a month and a half.” Bradley tells her.

“Oh? Visiting old friends?” Willow questions.

“Actually wrapping up mom’s estate, I think I’ve put it off long enough.” Bradley tells her. “Which is why I’m here. I was wondering if you had enough vacation days to come with. With Jake gone, figured you could use the distraction.”

“I guess it would be nice to show the kids a bit of my childhood.” Willow laughs. “They literally live in Jake’s every Christmas.”

“Yes! Come on Vix! For old times sake!” Bradley pleads.

“Fine! But I’m not flying the kids out there.”

“I’d appreciate the company and the help.” Bradley smiles.

“I’ll put the request in. Wanna road trip with us?” Willow questions pulling the paperwork up on her computer. “Be kind of nice to stop by the ranch, let the kids see everyone.”

“Of course. I’ll get everything set up for the drive.” Bradley smiles. “I’ll meet you at your house after they ship out.”

“See you Bradley.” Willow calls as he heads out of her office. She pulls up the leave request, filing everything as needed. Hours had passed when suddenly there was a knock on her door.

“Commander Seresin?”

“Yes?” Willow looks up to see one of her students standing at her door. “Lieutenant Jones, what can I do for you?”

“With graduation on Saturday, I just wanted to thank you, Commander. I didn’t think I could do this when I got here. You made me see otherwise.”

“I’m glad you figured it out, Lieutenant. You wouldn’t have been brought here if you didn’t belong.” The pilot nods before turning to exit but is stopped by Willow. “Oh Lieutenant, if you see Lieutenant Commander Seresin on your way out, would you let him know I need to see him?”

“Yes Ma’am.” Willow smiles at the young man as he leaves the room. She finalizes her paperwork, printing off a copy of everything before emailing it to the necessary people. She receives an immediate response from Admiral Simpson approving the leave. The man was sending her husband overseas for a year, the least he could do was give her a decent vacation time.

“Hey Darlin, was walking over with lunch when a very nervous pilot said you needed to see me.” Jake chuckles, setting the sandwiches he brought onto her desk. “Pretty sure he thinks you sent him for me so we can have sexy time in your office.” Jake winks as he drags a chair around to the side of her desk.

“Never happening again. You got us caught by Mav, Rooster, and Warlock that day.” Willow raises a brow at him as she slides the leave papers across the desk to him before reaching for her sandwich.

“Leave? Darlin I’m gonna be on deployment I can’t vacation.” Jake sighs, sliding the papers away. Willow sighs, she takes a bite of her sandwich and slides the papers back towards him. She points at the name before picking up her sandwich again. “Why are you going on vacation?”

“Bradley has decided to finally pack up his mom’s house so I'm going to help him.” Willow answers.

“And the kids?”

“They’re coming with us.” Willow turns to her husband. “We're gonna drive through and stop in Texas. See your parents and sisters.”

“That’ll be good. Good distraction from it all.” Jake smiles at her. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but I’m glad you and Rooster are close.”

“Well we needed a godfather for our son.” Willow laughs.

“Don't remind me.” Willow could see Jake facepalming in his mind. “I'd rather have it be Coyote.”

“Regret demanding that he be Elle’s, don't ya?” Willow teases.

“I regret it everyday because you threatened to kick me out of the room. I was scared I was gonna miss it.” Jake retorts.

“Don’t piss off a pregnant woman. Definitely don't piss off one who had to give up a year of her career because you can’t pull out.” She glares.

“You win, I was an ass. I’m sorry darlin.” He leans close to her, his signature smile plastered on his face, puppy eyes in full effect or as Willow calls them the Seresin Pity Eyes since Jake, the kids, and Jake’s entire family could do it but her.

“Apology,” she kisses his waiting lips. “Not accepted.” She smirks, turning back to her food and ignoring the shocked look on his face.

“Puppy dog eyes always work on you!” He wines.

“No. They work when Beckett does them.”

“But Beck is literally just a mini version of me.” Jake drags the eyes back out. Willow looks at her husband. Every inch of Beck screamed Jake. Bright green eyes, shaggy blond hair, even the little southern twain he picked up from his father and sister.

“With my attitude. That's why he’s a mama’s boy.” Willow laughs. “Same way Elle looks like me but has your attitude. Plus she’s had you wrapped around her finger since the day you found out we were expecting. Daddy’s girl.”

“Bullshit they’re both daddy’s little angels and you know it.” Jake smiles. The kids love their dad, they really do. Whenever Willow had said no to anything they immediately went to Jake and all they had to do was whip out the puppy eyes and he was a goner.

“They love you. They're gonna miss you this year.”

“I hate leaving them.” Jake sighs. “I think we should bring them to the docs like we did when Elle was little. Let them say bye to everyone.”

“I think that's a great idea. Beck will definitely love it.” Willow smiles. “You leave Sunday right?” Her smile drops on the topic, bringing it up was honestly not how she planned to spend their lunch hour but she knew it was better to bring it up sooner rather than later.

“Yea, I was thinking we could get everyone together for a beach day on Saturday. One last hoo-rah with the kids?”

“Sounds like a great plan, I know they’ll love to get some time with you all before you leave.”

“I’ll let the team know.” Jake smiles at her. When she doesn’t return the smile, Jake knows she’s in her head. “Hey, you know I love you right?” Willow simply nods, focusing on the sandwich before her. “Darlin.” Jake reaches over to grab her hand. “I’m going to come home to you like always if that's what you’re worried about.”

“Its not that.” She glances up at him. “And you can’t say like always. You almost didn’t a few times.”

“I’m here aren't I?”

Willow gave him the look, the ‘don’t be a smartass with me’ look. “You’re just going to miss so much. First day of school, birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas, all of it. I don’t know if I can do that on my own.”

“Hey. You are the most badass person in the Navy by far. You are going to be able to handle this next year with grace and beauty as you do everything else.” Jake kisses her temple as he stands. “I gotta get back to my meetings. I love you. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Bye. Love you.” Willow replies softly. Jake sighs as he turns to leave.

His detachments were always rough. Willow and Jake have been leaving each other behind on and off their entire careers, it has always been difficult leaving. And it only got worse when Elle was born. Willow was called away less after Elle’s birth, part of that being Ice’s doing, but the more Jake got called away the more strained their relationship got. Willow felt so alone in the early years of their marriage that when she made a comment about divorce to Ice, Jake was on a plane home the next day. After months of counseling, leave time, and minimal communication, Jake and Willow had worked through their rough patch.

But then Jake got called out a week before Beck was born, and it almost set them back to where they were all those years ago. Jake knew this one would strain them again. He just hoped that this trip with Bradley would make it less so since she wouldn’t be alone.

“Please don’t go daddy.” Beck cries as his small arms are wrapped tightly around Jake’s neck.

“I’ll be back before you know it, little man.” Jake holds his son, trying to soothe his little cries. “You’re gonna have so much fun with mama and sissy, even Uncle Rooster is gonna be there.” Jake internally groaned after he made the comment, still hating that his kids took to their “Uncle Rooster” too easily for his liking.

“Am I gonna see gramma and grampa too?” Beck sniffles, still not releasing his dad.

Jake chuckles softly. “Yea and Aunties and your cousins.” Jake pries his son’s arms away from his neck to look him in the eyes. “You’re gonna have so much fun, you won’t even know I’m gone.” Jake smiles at the little boy.

“I’ll know you’re gone.” He pouts. Jake stands from his crunched position, pulling Beck up into his arms.

“Yea, but all you gotta do is talk to mama and she’ll make you feel better. Isn’t that right, mama?” Jake asks as Willow comes over from saying her farewells to Phoenix, Bob, and Coyote.

“Absolutely.” She smiles while kissing her husband’s cheek. “Now give daddy a big hug.” Beck quickly relatches to his father.

“I’ll miss you, daddy.”

“I’m gonna miss you too, little man.” Jake holds Beck tightly. “Can you go to mama so I can hug your sister?”

Beck only nods softly, still crying as he’s passed into Willow’s arms. She whispers to him as she walks over to the rest of the pilots so he can say bye to them too.

Jake smiles at his wife and son before turning to his oldest who stands off to the side, alone. “Come here, pumpkin.” Elle's eyes fill with tears as she moves into her dad’s arms.

“I don’t like it when you leave.” She softly cries into her father’s chest.

“I know pumpkin. I don’t like leaving either.” He holds his daughter close.

“But you have to go.” Jake only nods at her words, wanting to hold his little girl just a little longer. He wouldn’t be able to say she’s his little girl come next year. She’s turning 13 next May, a teenager. Jake lets a few tears slip when he realizes what he’s missing. Beckett starts Kindergarten in 2 months. Elle graduates from 8th grade next year. And he’s going to miss Willow’s captain promotion come September that Cyclone had privately informed Jake about a month ago.

“I’ll be back before you know it.” Jake kisses her head softly before pulling back to look into her green eyes, identical to his own. “Look after your mama and brother okay?”

“I always do.” Elle smiles softly.

“That’s my girl.” He kisses her temple before tickling her sides softly. “Why don’t you help you brother say bye to everyone so I can talk to Mama.” Elle nods, giving her dad one more hug before she runs over to the large group of aviators surrounding the 4 year old.

“Hey handsome.” Willow smiles as she makes her way back to her husband.

“Darlin.” Jake smiles, pulling his wife in for a kiss.

“They’re gonna miss you.” She pulls back from the kiss to rest her head on his chest, she watches the majority of the dagger squad hugging her kids.

“I’ll miss them more.” Jake smiles softly. “But mostly you.” He holds her tightly until their superiors are giving the signal to leave. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Willow looks up, kissing him one final time. “Come home safely.”

“Always darling.” Jake follows his friends towards the carrier as Elle and Beck come up beside their mom. Willow lifts Beck from the ground to hold her still crying son.

“It’s okay, little man. Look, daddy’s waving from the boat.” Beck looks up and waves back at Jake one final time before he disappears from their sight.

“Grandma! Grandpa!”

“Oh there’s my precious grandbabies!” Jake’s mom pulls Elle and Beck into a massive hug before they pull away to hug their grandpa. “Hi sweetheart.” She turns to hug Willow.

“Hey Mama.” Willow smiles, hugging her mother in law. “This is Bradley, also called Rooster, my god-brother.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

“Please, just Mama. Everyone calls me that, no point in changing it now.” She chuckles. “Come on in! Nancy should be here any minute with the kids for dinner so the kids can see each other.”

“I see why the kids use Mama instead of mom or mommy.” Bradley laughs, following Mama, Willow falling instep with him.

“Good ol southern boy. That's Jake.” She laughs. “He actually started it, said he couldn’t imagine our kids calling me anything different.”

“How are you holding up?” Bradley questions.

“The same as I was when you asked me yesterday at my house. I miss him but I’m fine.” Willow groans.

“Auntie Willow!”

Willow turns at the call of her name, 18 year old twins Maddelyn and Gracelyn come barreling down the hallway. “My favorite nieces!” Willow tugs them both into a hug. “What are you two doing here? I thought you’d be off enjoying your last summer of freedom. Excited to start at UT?”

“Actually…” Grace starts and Maddie continues, finishing each other's thoughts.

“We start at the Naval Academy in August.”

“No way! That's so exciting!” Willow smiles at the girls. “Do you know what you wanna do when you graduate?”

“Aviation.” Maddie answers.

“Just like you and Uncle Jake.” Grace continues.

“Well I look forward to seeing Lieutenants Seresin in my Top Gun class in a few years.” Willow smiles. “I think Elle and Beck are in the backyard.”

“Race ya!” Grace shouts, sprinting to the backdoor. Willow laughs watching the girls run up to each other. Despite the seven year age gap, Elle saw Maddie and Grace as her older sisters and loved every opportunity to see them.

“I see the girls already beat me here.”

“Hey Nancy.” Willow turns to face her sister in law. “Yea twins are already outside with Elle. Hey Tommy Boy.” Willow ruffles the hair of her 6 year old nephew.

“Hi Auntie Willow. Where’s Uncle Jake?”

“He’s on a big boat for work.”

“But he promised more plane facts.” The boy pouts.

“You know, I brought someone with me.” Willow kneels down before the boy. “Tommy, this is Rooster. He’s a pilot like me and Uncle Jake.”

“Do you know about cool planes too?”

“Yea, in fact I know more than your Uncle Jake does.” Rooster answers, squatting down to Tommy’s level.

“But Uncle Jake knows everything!” Tommy defends, always quick to defend his favorite uncle.

“You’re right. Uncle Jake knows everything but I know beyond everything.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Why don’t you show Rooster where the living room is and ask him a million questions?” Willow suggests. Tom immediately grabs Bradley by the hand and drags him away from his mother and aunt.

“Hey Willow.”

“Hey Nance.” Willow wraps her sister-in-law in a tight hug. Of all of Jake’s sisters, Nancy was the closest to Willow. “Before you ask. I’m okay.”

“I wasn’t going to.” Nancy laughs, leading towards the kitchen.

“Bullshit.” Willow laughs.

They had only spent one night on the ranch much to the kids' dismay before embarking on another two days' drive to Virginia Beach. Elle and Beck slept most of the way there, giving Willow and Rooster time to catch up as they switched off driving, talking, and sleeping. When they finally arrived at Bradley and Willow’s childhood home, both kids were fast asleep in the backseat.

“I’ll grab Beck and take the keys, can you grab Elle?” Willow asks, putting the truck into park. Bradley nods passing the house keys into her awaiting hand before moving to pull his niece from her seat.

Willow gently unbuckles Beck and pulls him into her arms. He stirs in her arms, and mutters something not even Willow understands. “Shhh, go back to sleep. It’s okay buddy.” The boy nods off as Willow unlocks the front door, Bradly just behind her with Elle in his arms.

“I’ll put Elle in Mav’s old room, Beck can have mine since it's across from your’s.” 

Willow nods, “Where are you gonna sleep?”

“I’ll take the couch.”

“Nonsense, Bradley. At least sleep in your mom’s room.” Willow protests, stopping outside of Bradley’s bedroom. As Bradley sets Elle down on the bed in the room next door.

“I’d rather not go in there, Vix. Not yet at least.” Bradley answers, closing the door.

“Then take your room, Beck can just sleep in my room.”

“I probably won't sleep much, Vix.” Bradley pulls Beck from her. “Get some rest, I’ll keep an eye on the kids if they wake up.” Willow nods, opening her own bedroom door that sits identical to how it looked 27 years ago. “You guys never messed with my room?” She asks when she feels Bradley’s presence behind her.

“I was the only one here for a couple of years before I left for the academy.” Bradley smiles. “Get some rest, Vix.”

“Night Rooster.” Willow barely closes her door, leaving it open to where she can see across the hall to where Beck slept. Laying in her bed she can clearly note the lack of Jake’s scent, something she never spent more than a few days without.

Usually, one of Jake’s hoodies would be wrapped around her but the two she had brought were currently attached to her children, both of which had gravitated to sleeping in their father’s childhood bedroom when they were in Texas. She sighed as she wrapped herself in the blankets, pulling one of the pillows for her to hug in her sleep, soon drifting off.

“Mama?” It wasn’t the question that woke her but the soft sniffles that pulled Willow from her sleep, immediately wanting to check on the child before her. Opening her eyes, she could see Beck standing to the side of the bed, tear streaks visible on his cheeks, proving along his sniffles that he had been crying.

“What’s wrong little man?” She can see his small frame drowning in Jake’s sweatshirt.

“I want daddy.” He lets out, barely over a whisper. “He didn’t come get me when I started crying.” That broke Willow’s heart. Anytime one of the kids cried in the middle of the night, Jake was quick to pull them from their beds and bring them in to sleep between him and Willow.

“You wanna sleep with me tonight?” Willow offers, pulling the blankets back. “I know its not the same without daddy.”

“Please mama?”

“Come here.” Beck scrambles up onto the bed tucking himself against Willow pleading for her to sing to him. She chuckles softly, blaming Jake’s habit of singing to Beck every night when she was pregnant. She sings softly, whatever song first came to mind, holding her son tightly to her as he falls back asleep. Jake’s scent radiates off the hoodie, pulling her to sleep as well.

“Mama! Mama!” Willow is shaken from her sleep. “Uncle Rooster made pancakes!”

“Did he?” Willow yawns, tugging Beck back into the bed.

“Mama! Come on!” Beck giggles as she wraps her arms around him.

“Mama! Beck!” Elle walks into the room. “Uncle Rooster is threatening to eat all the pancakes.”

“Come here.” Willow calls over her daughter.

“He won’t let me eat without yo—!” Willow tugs Elle down next to her, holding both of the kids.

“No, we're having morning cuddles.” Willow laughs, tickling the kids' sides. “How’d you sleep, baby girl?”

“I’m not a baby anymore.”

“Mmm you’re still my baby.” Willow tugs Elle closer. “Always gonna be my baby girl even when you have your own.”

“Hey I thought I sent the munchkins to get you. Not go back to bed.” Bradley asks, stopping in the doorway.

“Mama holding us hostage Uncle Rooster!” Beck squeals as Willow tickles him again.

“Oh no! Uncle Rooster will save you!”

“Mama, no!” Beck squeals again when suddenly Elle joins in. “Ellie!”

“Oh Miss Elle getting in the middle.” Willow laughs, going after her daughter.

“Ahh Mama!”

Bradley takes the opportunity to pull Beck from the bed and over his shoulders. “Quick! Escape!” Bradley takes off running through the house.

“I don’t think so!” Willow jumps up to follow the boys before her phone starts ringing. “Elle can you hand me my phone?” Willow calms her breathing as Elle passes the phone.

“I’ll go get Beck settled for breakfast.”

“Thanks, sweetie.” Willow ruffles her hair as she answers the restricted number. “Commander Seresin.”

“Hey darlin.”

“Jake?”

“How was Texas?” Jake asks.

“It was good. Tommy was really sad that you weren’t there.”

“I’m gonna have to make that up when I get back.” Jake chuckles.

“How’s carrier life?”

“Missing you guys. How are the kids holding up?”

“Missing you. Beck was pretty upset that you didn’t come pick him up when he started crying.” Willow sighs. “He even had me sing him to sleep.”

“God I hate this.” Jake sighs. “Can I talk to them?”

“Yea. They’ll probably take the rest of your call so I love you.”

“I love you too, darlin.” Willow switches the phone to speaker phone and walks out to the dining room.

“Beck, Elle. I got a surprise. Say hi.” Willow says as she sets her phone on the table between the two.

“Hello?” Elle questions.

“Hey pumpkin.”

“Daddy!” Beck shouts, mouth full of pancakes. “Are you coming back?” Willow’s eyes water as she listens to their exchange. Bradley looks up from the stove to see her longing stare and quickly wraps up the pancake he’s working on.

“Vix.” He whispers. “Come here.” He leads her to her bedroom where he finally lets his volume rise. “You okay?” As if that question was finally the key, Willow lets out a sob and Bradley wraps her in a hug, “It’s okay, let it out.” He whispers over and over, waiting for her to slowly calm down.

“I miss him so much.” She sobs.

“I know, Vix.” Bradley sighs. “He’ll be home before you know it.”

“I want him home now.” She cries. “I can’t do this on my own.” She sobs.

“Maybe you should talk to Hang—“

“No!” Willow stops him. “He worries enough as it is when he’s gone. Especially after the amount of times we almost divorced over this. I tell Jake how I’m feeling he’ll retire. And we both know how much he wants to make admiral.”

“Vixen you have roughly 360 days until he comes home.” Bradley reasons. “You’re just going to sit in silence and pretend everything is okay?”

“No. I’m just not gonna tell Jake. Or the kids.” Willow replies. “If he finds out, he’ll come home. He’ll even steal a jet if he had to.”

“Do you at least have someone you can talk to?”

“I have you.” She shrugs, already acting like she didn’t just lose it over a single phone call.

“A professional Vix. You need someone who can help you work through this.”

“I’m fine, Rooster. This isn’t my first rodeo.” Willow turns around, takes a deep breath and then moves back into the main part of the house. “Hey. Dad have to go?” She asks, seeing her children silently eating.

“Yea.” Elle responds.

“But Daddy said he’d call next week!” Beck smiles.

“Remember Beck, he may not get to talk next week. We just gotta wait.” Elle reminds her younger brother. Willow offers a small smile to her daughter, knowing the amount of times Elle got let down cause Jake couldn’t keep a phone call date or would call after bedtime, just barely missing her. “Oh mama, you got a missed call here.” Elle hands her mom her phone.

Willow eyes the voicemail, recognizing the local number before hitting play.

“Good morning, this is Admiral Parker Smith. I’m trying to reach Commander Willow Seresin. If you can give me a call back at…” Willow was barely listening as the Admiral rattled off the contact info.

She dials in the callback number, reading it from the voicemail transcript.

“Admiral Smith.”

“Good morning Admiral Smith. This is Commander Seresin returning your call.”

“Commander, perfect timing. I heard you were in Virginia Beach.”

“I am. Was there something you needed me for?” Willow replies.

“We're sending out a team on an urgent mission next week from Oceana and we need a team leader.” Admiral Smith reports. “Now I read the Uranium Mission file, you headed that squadron did you not?”

“I did.”

“Wonderful! I have papers here for you Commander. You’ll be leading this mission.”

“Sir, I’m here on vacation with my children. Their father just left for a year-long deployment.” Willow protests.

“I’m sorry Commander but you’re exactly what we need for this task. If we had another option we’d take it.” Willow sighs, she glances over at Bradley who’s playing with Elle and Beck as they clean up breakfast.

“How soon do you need me to report?” She asks.

“Tomorrow.”

[cecilysass]

Shine On (5/16)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic

Chapter 5: Lady of Sorrows

Our Lady of Sorrows Hospital Arlington, Virginia February 22, 2015

She’s preparing for a conference call that starts in twenty minutes when she hears the buzz of her phone. When she sees his name, she presses her eyes shut and ignores it.

She knows he’ll call back, and of course he does.

What do you want, Mulder? she texts him in frustration.

He responds right away, which surprises her. He has fewer reasons to use his phone than she does, so he is sometimes still a little baffled by texts. Which is one reason she sends them when she wants to put him off.

We need to talk. It’s important.

She shakes her head with huffy disbelief. Puts down her phone. Takes a drink of her coffee. Picks up her phone again.

I don’t think that’s a very good idea.

His response once again comes fast.

It’s important.

There’s still so much for her to do before this conference call. She wanted to go through yesterday’s results again and make more annotations. She wanted to crosscheck with the Amsterdam study. She doesn’t have time for this.

Fine. I’ll call you this afternoon.

There. Done. She should get back to work now, but instead she stares at the phone, waiting for his response.

Needs to be in person. Can you come to the house?

He has so much nerve. As much arrogance as ever, expecting her to be at his beck and call. She can feel her jaw clenching.

I’m busy, Mulder. I’m at work.

Sorry, it’s Sunday, didn’t realize.

Why do we need to talk?

The three dots appear, then disappear. He seems to be grappling with an answer.

After a moment, she adds: If this is about apologizing - not necessary.

The three dots pop up again on her screen.

Not an apology. Not about the other day. Something else. Important.

He adds a second message: Can I come to you? This afternoon?

She lets out a long, extended exhale, putting her head in her hands. After the conference call, she had been hoping to go home and enjoy a relaxing Sunday afternoon. Maybe go to yoga. Maybe take a bath. Seeing Mulder would almost certainly mean more emotional upheaval. The very opposite of the relaxation she needs.

But she’s always had such a hard time saying no to him.

Meet me at 3 at the cafe across from the hospital.

There’s a pause before he responds.

Okay. At 3.

Scully shoves the phone out of her sight, turning her attention back to her laptop. There’s still enough time to get ready. Her mind reviews her to-do list. Annotations, crosscheck with Amsterdam study, and then a quick overview of all of her notes.

But now her mind is distracted, wondering what Mulder wants.

Staring at the spreadsheet in front of her, full of all of the data she should be going through, she thinks a dangerous thought—one that will almost certainly come back to betray her.

Maybe he wants to give her a birthday present. Maybe he wants to do something nice for her birthday.

It’s so stupid of her. So adolescent. So ridiculous to even consider. It will only disappoint her later. Why would he do that? They’re not together anymore. And she knows he’s still struggling with their break-up, and she knows she should help give him space, so that he can recover and get better, get healthy. Even the idea is selfish.

She just can’t help but to imagine that kind of pleasant surprise. Like the old days. Maybe he has a present. A book, chosen just for her. A little bracelet, something exactly her tastes. A card he’s written tenderly for her.

The fantasy is irresistible because no one on earth has ever known her mind, known her heart, known her body like Mulder has. Being known to your core like that is a heady feeling, utterly addictive. She will never, ever stop wanting to experience it again.

She doubts she will. She can’t imagine any of the smarmy visiting surgeons who ask her out ever really knowing her like that.

Another idea pops into her mind, an even more foolish idea that reaches even further into her past.

Maybe he’s coming to her with a good old-fashioned slide show. With some bizarre monster to hunt, a spooky lead to track down, a haunted mystery to solve. Maybe he’s going to try to convince her to come with him on some wild goose chase.

That idea shouldn’t thrill her, it really shouldn’t, but it does. She longs for it in places she typically represses.

To be in some rental car with him, side by side, headed out to face grim small towns and sticky-table top diners and buzzing-sign motels. Her and him against the world. Partners against the darkness, ever and always.

She laughs softly, bitterly at herself. Jesus, she knows so much better than this.

These Mulders she’s longing for—the Mulder who remembers her birthday and painstakingly selects the perfect gift, the Mulder who gets caught up in the excitement of a case and coaxes his partner to be at his side—those versions of Mulder don’t exist any more.

Those versions of Mulder haven’t existed for a while, and that’s exactly why she had to leave.

She looks away from her laptop, massaging her forehead with a single fingertip, and takes another big drink of her coffee. Just take a break for five minutes, she tells herself. Get yourself together.

Her eyes drift back to her phone. She brushes past Mulder’s last message, and goes to scroll through the day’s headlines for the distraction.

Politics, entertainment, local news: she swipes through quickly. The phone offers so much convenience, but it brings something frenetic into her life, too. She sometimes misses the simple, tangible delight of having her hands on a paper Washington Post. Maybe she’ll pick one up today to read in the bathtub, if seeing Mulder doesn’t throw her too much for a loop.

There’s a national news story that catches her attention because of the words “Eighth grader” in the headline. This year, Scully’s attention is grabbed by anything mentioning eighth graders. Last year, it was seventh graders. Next year, it will be ninth graders, which makes her heart ache. High school. So old. He’s very possibly taller than her now.

This particular headline is rather upsetting: “Wyoming Eighth Grader Who Allegedly Shot Parents Still At Large.” Scully clicks on it and looks at the accompanying picture, a smiling school photo of a sweet-faced brown-haired boy who doesn’t look at all like a killer, which she knows from experience means exactly nothing. She decides not to read the story. Stories about killer eighth grade boys will upset her, and there’s no cause to upset herself.

The detour into the news is enough of a reset, though, for her to stop thinking about Mulder.

She turns back to the spreadsheet, her focus back. Only twelve minutes left now until her call. Scully lets herself shut the doors to everything but work.

***

Farrs Corner, Virginia February 22, 2015

“You ready?” Mulder says. He’s sitting in the driver’s seat, peering out the open passenger door with a too-bright smile.

Jackson climbs reluctantly in, reaching for his seatbelt. “I look stupid.”

“Not true.” Mulder says encouragingly. “You look like a kid who is being smart about not being recognized.”

News stories with Jackson’s photo have been making the rounds on the cable news stations, so Mulder has decided they can’t take risks. It seems like a long shot that someone would identify him on the roads of rural Virginia, but Jackson supposes it’s better safe than sorry.

So he’s wearing a worn old Yankees cap and a pair of dated oversized sunglasses. In Jackson’s opinion, the sunglasses make him more obvious, because no one under forty would ever wear sunglasses like that if they were not trying to disguise their identity.

The clothes he’d been wearing before were getting a little overripe, so Mulder has also made him borrow a pair of jeans and a black sweater. Like the sunglasses, they are really old—“vintage,” jokes Mulder—-and apparently from when he was a smaller size. But they’re still way too big for Jackson, who is skinnier and shorter. They hang off of him, even with the cuffs of the jeans rolled up and the sleeves of the sweater pushed back.

He looks like a kid playing dress up. Mulder is trying not to look at him. I hope he didn’t hear me think that. Jackson sighs a long, loud drawn-out sigh to let the man know he did.

They’ve now spent a full day together, him and Mulder, waiting for the DNA results to come back. It’s gone okay. Strange, but okay.

Yesterday morning, Mulder made him swab his mouth and drove the sample to drop off with some friend in the FBI. While Mulder was gone, Jackson snooped around, picking up every framed picture, opening drawers and cupboards. He didn’t find anything too interesting, except for a lot of evidence that Mulder didn’t clean up much.

By the time Mulder had returned, Jackson had decided to try to put all those piles of books back on his shelves, attempting to organize them by section. Mulder watched him in fascination for a moment and then joined in. It took them three hours to finish that project, mostly because Mulder kept going on tangents to tell him things about different books.

This book, which describes a fascinating incident with a wendigo, helped me solve a case once… I bought this paperback from a professional shaman in Brooklyn in 1989… This is a theoretical physics text about the practicalities of space travel Scully bought me as a joke.

Jackson didn’t hate it. Mulder was funny, mostly. And smart. He was definitely really smart. But he was intense, too, so eager to show Jackson things, so eager to impress him. Jackson’s shine wearied after a while.

That evening, they tried to watch TV, but turned it off when they saw a snippet of a news story with Jackson’s face. After that, they played chess. Mulder pointed out that telepaths had an unfair advantage in chess, but Jackson promised not to use it, and he really didn’t. Mulder won.

This morning, Mulder got the call about the DNA test, and while he didn’t say it in so many words, Jackson didn’t even need his shine to read the result from the man’s glowing face: it’s a match. You’re the daddy, like the talk shows say. Mulder obviously considers this great news.

Which means, of course, that it’s time to meet the other half of Jackson’s genetic equation.

“Okay,” Jackson mutters, clicking his seatbelt in place. “You said we’re going to a Starbucks or something?”

Mulder starts the engine. “We’re supposed to meet her at a cafe,” he says, maneuvering the car up the drive. “I’m not sure I like having you in public right now though, even master of disguise that you are. So we’ll convince her to talk elsewhere.”

“Hmm,” nods Jackson, the hat slipping over his face a little. He pushes it back. He feels Mulder stealing looks at him, and he wonders if Mulder has any idea how anxious he feels about meeting Scully. He makes a point of looking out the window, trying to make things seem more casual. “You know I could appear as someone else, right? If you want me to.”

“That might be useful,” Mulder says. “But I want Scully to see you as you are. Don’t you?”

Jackson doesn’t answer, keeping his gaze out the window. “On our way, are we going to drive by anywhere interesting? Like the White House or the Washington Monument?”

“Unfortunately, today we’re not leaving Virginia,” Mulder says. “But I promise, not too long from now I’ll take you to D.C. and show you the sights.”

Jackson lowers his stupid sunglasses and gives him a dubious look.

“What? I will.” Mulder protests. “Wait, hold on.” Mulder puts the car in park and hops out to open the gate. Jackson’s eyes follow him closely over the top of the sunglasses as he unlatches the gate and then slides back in.

“A lot of security,” comments Jackson. It seems like a pain in the ass to open and close the gate every time you leave. He wonders how often Mulder does leave. “This is because of those people you and Scully worked with?”

“More or less, yeah,” agrees Mulder, steering the car through the gate, then putting it in park again with a little jerk. He scrambles to hop out again, jogging back to close and latch the gate up.

At least, Jackson thinks, he didn’t grow up having to worry about all of this. He can’t imagine doing this all the time. Although, he thinks with a sudden sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach, maybe he should have. Maybe if he and his parents had done all this, they would still be alive.

Mulder slides back in the car again. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” Jackson manages.

Mulder nods without expression and drives the car onto the road. “Want to turn on some music?”

“That’s okay.”

“What kind of music do you like?”

Jackson smirks. “Do you really think you’ll have heard of it?”

“That depends,” Mulder says. “If you say you like Prince, or the Stones, or the Clash, then sure.”

“I like those,” Jackson says coolly. “I’m really into Bring Me the Horizon and Fall Out Boy?”

“Nope.”

Jackson gives him a withering “I told you so” look. He turns to face the front windshield, thinking about his mom singing along to When Doves Cry as she unloaded the dishwasher.

“What kind of music does Scully like?” he wonders.

“Oh,” Mulder sounds surprised. “Well, when she was young, she went through a rebellious phase. She liked punk, New Wave. All the music that would annoy her parents.”

“She didn’t get along with her parents?”

“No,” Mulder says. “She did, actually. She still does — her mom is still around. It was just teenage identity stuff. You know how it goes.”

Jackson nods seriously, making note of the existence of a living biological grandparent.

“Now, I think she still likes all that eighties music from when she was young,” Mulder says. “And sixties and seventies hits, too. She listens to that whenever she’s working out or doing something high energy. But she also likes classical music. She listens to a lot of classical music.”

“Is she, like, good at music? Does she sing or play an instrument?” Jackson and Louis had been talking about starting a band, and Jackson had been trying to learn guitar.

“No,” Mulder says. “Not really.” He smiles apologetically. “She’s really, really good at all kinds of other shit though, Jackson. Like being a scientist and a doctor and an F.B.I. agent.”

“She’s pretty, too,” comments Jackson.

“You can read my thoughts, so I assume you know how I feel about that,” Mulder says dryly. “I’m trying not to feel weird about it.”

“I don’t read every thought,” Jackson replies defensively. “I’ve been doing this my whole life, so I have a good idea when I am about to see something permanently damaging.”

Mulder laughs, but looks at him curiously. “What about at school, though? Teachers? Other kids? Girls—or guys—you might have a crush on? It must be tempting, huh?”

Jackson tries to think about how to explain it. “It’s not as tempting as you would think. It’s usually more trouble than it’s worth. You find out things you wish you didn’t. You see people think things about you that make you feel embarrassed or upset. You know information that’s hard to pretend you don’t know, and sometimes you mess up. I mostly don’t want to use my shine, if I can avoid it.”

“Your shine?”

“Oh yeah.” Jackson reddens. He’s only used the word with one other person before. “That’s what I call it. I call it ‘using my shine.’ I guess I mean like a light?”

“Okay,” Mulder says, nodding. “Interesting. Like the psychic boy in Stephen King? The Shining?”

Jackson frowns. “I haven’t seen it. Is there a shine in that?”

He doesn’t even know what I’m talking about. Jackson's mind tunes into Mulder’s thoughts like a radio. Don’t tell him. Too disturbing.

Instead, Mulder throws him a playful look. “Or like ‘Shine on, you crazy diamond.’ That’s an old Pink Floyd song.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of that,” Jackson says with a little tolerant nod. “But … yeah. It can make me feel weird to use it for no good reason. I mean, I’m not saying I have never tried to see answers inside a teacher’s head or anything like that. But mostly I just want to feel normal talking to other people. You know?”

“You do seem to be able to control your shine considerably better than other people I’ve known with this kind of ability,” Mulder comments. “It’s the kind of thing I would have been really interested in, back when I worked on the X-files.”

“You’ve known other people with this ability?”

“Oh yeah,” Mulder says. “Several people. I even… well, I don’t want to get into it all now. But I can talk to you about this in detail whenever you want to.”

Jackson is quiet. “I wish when I was little I knew that there were other people with these abilities. It would have been easier. Made me feel better.”

“I’m sure,” Mulder says quietly. “I wish I could have told you.”

There is a heavy pause.

“I go to therapy for anxiety and depression,” Jackson tells him.

“You do?”

“Yeah,” Jackson says. “What about you?”

“No,” Mulder says. He gives him a strange look. “But maybe I should?”

“Yeah,” Jackson agrees, thinking of several details he’s observed. “Maybe you should.”

“You’re in a position to see, I guess,” Mulder muses. He's silent for a beat.

“I read an article about how sometimes a baby, when they’re still in their mom’s womb, can sort of soak up her stress and trauma and then grow up to have problems with anxiety,” Jackson says. “Do you think something like that might have happened to me?”

“You read an article like that?” Mulder asks, scowling. “Why?”

“That’s the kind of article kids with closed adoptions read,” Jackson says, lowering the sunglasses again, an edge of dark humor. “If you're a big nerd like me, anyway. You sort of wonder about everything.”

Mulder raises his eyebrows. Then he seems to consider Jackson’s question.

“I mean, it’s possible,” Mulder says heavily. “It’s possible something like that happened to you when you were in utero. It’s also possible you have anxiety and depression because, each year since 2000, the number of children and teens diagnosed with anxiety and depression has gone up, and you’re just one of those kids.”

Jackson makes an impressed face. “You just happened to know that?”

“Scully read an article about it,” Mulder says. “The kind of article birth mothers with closed adoptions of kids born after 2000 read. If they’re big nerds like Scully, anyway.” He pauses. “It’s also possible you have anxiety and depression for any other number of reasons that have nothing to do with any of that. Like having these abilities you have to hide and deal with, for one.”

“Yeah,” admits Jackson.

“Hey, do me a favor, and please don’t mention reading your ‘anxiety forming in utero’ article to Scully. Okay? Never.”

Jackson’s brow furrows. Not having met Scully, it’s an easy promise to make. “Yeah, okay.” He looks over at Mulder. “Is that something that would bother her?”

Mulder nods emphatically. “Let me put it like this. You know how some families like to have Scrabble competitions? Or fantasy football? In this family we like to compete in feeling guilty for how we’ve hurt people we love.”

“Oh good,” Jackson deadpans. “I’ve been training for that.”

Mulder chuckles bitterly. “You really don’t understand your competition.”

Jackson hadn't even been aware his shine was active, but suddenly he's overcome: a painful onslaught of incoming information. There’s a rapid-fire series of images from Mulder’s mind, so fast Jackson feels his head thump back dramatically against the headrest, closing his eyes. He gasps loud enough that Mulder looks over.

“Whoa, whoa. You okay there?”

“Yeah,” Jackson says breathily, opening his eyes. “I just…” He feels like he got kicked.

“Feeling dizzy?”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Did you drink water today?”

“It wasn’t dehydration," Jackson murmurs.

Mulder’s face changes. Jackson sees that he has realized.

“Oh,” he says. "It was me, wasn't it?" A pause. “God, Jackson, I’m sorry about that.”

“Not really your fault.”

“You… what did you see?”

Jackson scrunches up his eyes to try to remember each detail. “I didn’t understand much of it,” he says. “There was a little girl, brown braids, bright light?” He looks over at Mulder, and Mulder nods tightly. “All these different people crying because they’ve lost someone, mostly people I don’t know. But Scully lots of times. Scully crying again and again and again.” Mulder presses his lips together tightly. “A baby crying in a crib. Me?”

“Yep,” Mulder says. “You.”

“You feel guilty about me?”

“Yep,” Mulder says. He doesn’t add any more detail.

Jackson takes that information in. He’s tempted to use his shine again, to add some context and see why, exactly, but again it seems a little too much for him to cope with. Better to take all of this information in in tiny bite-sized chunks.

He thinks of something else he’s kind of been wanting to ask instead.

“Am I the only kid you guys ever had? Or did you have others?”

“Just you,” Mulder says, his voice melancholy now. “You weren’t supposed to be possible. She wasn’t supposed to be able to get pregnant at all. We thought you were a miracle.”

Jackson chews on that thought, staring out the window at the passing late winter Virginia landscape.

***

[writing-rat]

The Secret Admirer

Pairings: Tori x Jade

Content: Just fluff

Summary: Tori has a secret admirer but she doesn't know who it is fully until the date...

It had been 5 months since Tori had entered Hollywood Arts and she couldn’t be happier. She had a few new friends too which she loved. There was Cat, Jade, Beck, Robbie (Rex included), Andre and even Sinjin. She didn’t mind that. In fact, she loved it. Beck and Jade broke up too but no one knew why. Beck wasn’t saying anything and neither was Jade.

Tori was currently with Beck and Andre as they were smoking weed together in Beck’s RV as they were all on the couch, Tori in between them. They were watching ‘The Breakfast Club’ as they were all passing a blunt between each other, each teen having a Dr Pepper as they took a sip too. “God, Allison is so hot. I would do anything for her,” Tori stated after a few minutes of her just being on screen. Andre smirked while Beck just laughed. “Fair enough Tors,” Andre spoke as he leaned back. “So, if I can ask, what is your sexuality?” he asked curiously. “Lesbian,” she spoke with a shrug. “So we can talk about girls? Nice,” Beck responded and Tori smiled. She felt validated. 

That’s when they continued to watch ‘The Breakfast Club’ before they all decided to nap right there.

-

“Beck! I need your ad-” Tori heard before she woke up. She yawned as she opened her eyes, looking over as Andre was still fast asleep, Beck waking up at least. “Oh. Hey Vega,” Jade spoke, crossing her arms. “Get out. I need to talk to Beck alone,” she added. Tori nodded, shrugging. She understood. That’s when she stood outside, wondering what was going on inside. She wouldn’t look, however. She was respectful like that.

Eventually, the door opened and Tori was allowed inside. She was thankful for that as the 4 of them were also soon hanging out.

-

It had been a week after that incident and Jade was being… nicer? Tori honestly thought she was sick because of how she was acting but decided to not dwell on it as it wasn’t really her business. She had opened her locker when a note started to fall out. Tori was confused as she picked it up, soon reading what it read. ‘Meet me at Nozu at 5 pm. From your secret admirer’ it read. She sighed as she walked over to the lunch table, mulling it over. She was unsure if she should or not. It could be someone dangerous or a creep. Since it was only Monday, she had the whole week to dread it.

“Hello,” everyone said at the table as she arrived. “Hey,” she spoke, tired as she was getting her lunch out, ready to eat. 

“What’s got you so tired?” Andre asked. “Because I got a secret letter and I don’t know who from,” Tori responded, practically groaning, before she laid it out to rest. “What sort of loser would do that?” Jade commented, being her usual self. “Thank you,” Tori responded sarcastically.  Jade just sent a sassy smirk, not missing the look that Beck gave her. Tori did miss it though. 

“Well, if you go, we can help you out, we can watch from a distance,” Beck spoke. Tori nodded and concluded she would go then. 

-

Tuesday and there was another note. It read ‘You know me. You don’t know what I am like really. I love the way you act so confident, that you don’t need to put on an act’ the note read. Tori sighed as she read it before she started to put the letter in her bag, trying to think of who it could be now that she read it. She honestly couldn’t wait for the next one, not that she would say.

-

Wednesday and another note as expected. She was noticing a trend though, giving information about a certain person and then what they love about her. ‘I am a female. I like your comedy and how you can act like anything.’ Tori was trying to think who it was. Jade had also been acting nicer to her that lunch, teasing her, sure but not in a mean way. It was confusing. She shrugged it off though. 

-

Thursday and she was excited for her note again, this time Beck was with her. She opened her locker up and a note fell out. She immediately grabbed it as Beck read it from her shoulder. ‘Black coffee is life and I will always want it. I like how resilient you are’ the final note read. “Who do you think it is?” Beck asked, looking at Tori. Tori groaned and shrugged.

“All I can think of is Jade but she doesn’t like me at all!” Tori whined. Beck just chuckled. 

“Fair enough,” he spoke before he went to lunch with her. Jade had gotten Tori’s lunch which Tori was surprised and suspicious about it. She was shocked, however, when nothing was wrong with it. Jade also had a black coffee, not that Tori noticed. 

-

It was the final day and she finally got the final note and was meeting up with the girl later where she conveniently had the date with Jade previously. ‘We previously went to Nozu together. I like your locker, and I love whenever we talk’ it read. Tori was biting her lip, thinking about who she went with. The only people she could think of were Cat and Jade but she couldn’t see Cat liking her. She had gone with Jade and was forced when she last went on a date. That’s when it all clicked. She would not confront yet however, she would see at Nozu but she was 99.99% sure it was Jade.

After a few hours, it was an hour to the date and she was nervous, considering what to wear. She still wanted to look nice, but casual after all. That’s when she decided to wear a skirt and a nice crop top she owned. Eventually, she went down, seeing how Trina was away. She was doing god knows what, but she was doing something. She didn’t care, however. She just wanted to make Jade blush as well. She started her walk to Nozu, happy it was only a 15-minute walk. She had on some trainers though. She had put on some headphones and listened to some punk music before walking over however, not liking silent walks. She always needed music on after all. 

Eventually, she arrived and walked in, spotting Cat, Beck, Robbie, Rex and Andre as well as Sikowitz? She would ask later. Jade meanwhile was at a separate table and waved over Tori. Tori walked over immediately, putting her phone and earbuds into her bag before she sat down. “Hello,” she spoke. “You are the sacred admirer I assume then?” she spoke with a smirk. 

“Yes, I am. So what?” Jade spoke, not letting her walls down. “Well… I want to know the real you then,” Tori spoke, crossing her arms. “You said it yourself. I don’t know what you actually are like,” Tori added. Jade was shocked before she nodded, thinking. She trusted her more now. She was happy enough.

“What would you like to order?” the waitress asked.

“Spicy tuna roll,” Jade responded.

“California roll please,” Tori spoke with a soft smile. “And drinks?” she asked. 

“Pepsi,” Jade spoke, still monotone.

“Lemonade for me,” Tori spoke and the waitress nodded before leaving. “So… what do I not know about you?” Tori asked, smiling at her. “By the way, you look nice. You should wear ripped jeans more,” she hummed out. She saw Jade visibly blush before she responded. “You don’t know about my pet snake, Moxie,” she spoke. Tori smiled.

She was eager to get to know her more…

[ladey]

When I Brush Your Hair | Chapter 1

Jinx x Fem!Reader 🌙🦋🎀

Word count: 3.3k

⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

Y/n doesn't waste much time getting up from her bed the moment she wakes up that morning. The clock reads 9:10 AM; her own body clock typically gets her up around that time. It's always been that way.

Her bare feet touch the cold floor beneath her but she pays it no mind as she speeds over to her dresser that her dad kindly made for her years ago. Clothes are laying on the floor haphazardly, blankets hung over a chair and table, and many drawings and photos from over the years taped onto the surrounding walls. Her room always held a special place in her heart. Pulling out her drawers she yanks out the first shirt and pants she thinks are most suitable for today.

Perhaps a brown t-shirt? No no, that's too boring. She looks at it for a moment; where did she even get this? She should really pzazz it up a bit, maybe a cute bear holding a flower! And then add a tiny bow on the collar- She's getting distracted. She shakes her head and mindlessly throws the brown shirt behind her, aiming for her bed so she'd remember for later but it lands on the floor instead.

She digs out a purple tank top that has a butterfly patchwork piece sewed into the fabric. She lets out a sound of approval and places it in her lap. Not long after, she's staring at herself in the body mirror; her outfit is complete with a cropped knitted sweater and shorts. The Undercity is often humid during the warmer seasons. But since it's march she still, and must, wear her signature knee high socks. Sometimes she wears little leg warmers... oh how she loves her leg warmers. She and her aunt have knitted some together before- Hold that thought, she should go visit her later. It's only been a week but she misses her already. Good thing she doesn't live too far.

Y/n bounces down the stairs to the second floor, hoping to see her dad in the kitchen with food already sitting on the table. She is sadly disappointed to see it empty. I mean yeah it's a Monday so naturally he would already be downstairs in the shop but a girl can dream. She hates having to make food because she's so slow and makes a mess every time and she just wishes she could eat some damn food without having to wait for the preparations. She sighs to herself.

She'll just have some jam and bread.

It must be a nice day outside since it's finally not raining for once. She thinks she can just barely see the sun shining down onto the city. She loves her plants more than her life but for her own sanity, she'd love to be able to see the sun for once while sitting on the top of the buildings.

With her droopy piece of bread in hand, she goes over to the shoe closet and steps into her boots without bothering to tie the laces. She opens the door after stepping off of the last flight of stairs and looks to her right and sees her dad wiping down the front counter. She smiles.

"Hey, papa." Beck, her dad. He works as a mechanic. She can brag about it too since he's the best one known in the Undercity. It makes her feel kind of bad for the other ones too though, since that probably means he's taking all of their clients. She'd hate it if they felt discouraged by it. Everyone's talented in their own way right? Y/n likes to believe so.

Beck's beaded eyes look up from the counter and he smiles warmly at his daughter. He notices the bread in her hand and knows she's likely miffed about her lack of breakfast. His smile only widens at that thought.

"Morning, hon. How's it goin'?" Y/n walks slowly until she stands in the middle of the shop. Random parts and tools sit in boxes and shelves. A vacant can of oil sits open some feet away from her making her nose scrunch. Usually he keeps that stuff in the back until he needs it, why is it out here? It's only stinking up the room. Not that oil smells that bad, besides it reminds her of her dad. But too much is too much. She shakes the intruding thought away and looks back up to her dad who's leaning on the counter with both hands. Old burn scars peaking through the sleeves folded up to his elbows.

"Fine I guess." She shrugs. She thinks about how nice the weather is and then her mind wanders over to something else.

"Is Bean out or is she still here?" She asks. Becks eyebrows raise for a split second.

"She should still be here, I fed her not too long ago."

"Okay." Y/n stuffs her mouth with her last bit of bread and jam and skips back over to the stairs. She wonders to herself if she should take her plants out with her to sit under the sun. She'll need some extra hands though. She smiles at the idea of seeing her best blue friend. Anytime she called her that she'd say that it made her sound depressed. But she would assure her that the colour blue didn't always mean something negative. She reminded her of the ocean and blueberries.

"Bean!" Y/n calls out. She crouches down to look at the bum of the dining chairs. Nothing. No sign of her on the kitchen counter or the couch either. Sometimes she lays behind the television stand and rubs against the plugs in the outlet. Y/n leans over and looks into the crack but she's met with dust.

She throws her head back as she releases an exasperated sigh. Crossing her arms over her chest and looking around as she slowly gives up, she notices a small shadow behind the curtains covering the doors to the very small balcony. Her head tilts with curiosity. Though she's almost positive that it's Bean.

Y/n slowly crosses the small living room. She approaches the curtains that softly sway with the air blowing past them, little light shining through them casting a soft yellow glow into the room. Her hand pushes the fabric to the side and without surprise, her eyes land on the orange and white cat staring off into the street as it sits quietly.

"Hi Bean." Y/n's soft voice automatically shifts an octave higher. Usually she would stay for a moment and watch with her, but she has things to do today. She has a habit of putting things off and forgetting about them, something her aunt warns her might bite her in the ass someday. So she doesn't want that to happen today.

She scoops the cat into her arms and begins to make her journey to her desired destination; The Last Drop. She can already hear voices talking and laughing under the floor below her; she internally cries as she comes to terms with the fact that she'll have to pass some random stranger.

She manages though as she peeps out a quiet "Hello." as she avoids awkward eye contact with the man speaking to her dad, not even bothering to pay attention to what he brought in as she speeds out of the door.

"Hey, be safe!" She hears her dad yell out to her. Quickly giving him a shout, "Yup!" before she's bounding down the increasingly bustling street.

She's brought Bean out with her like this before. She's like a rag doll; never really seeming to have much care for what the girl does to her. Perhaps it could be a result of early experience. As a young child Y/n would dress the cat up in little doll clothes and fake bottle feed it milk pretending it was her baby. Beck still has a photo of one of the times he caught her somewhere in his room.

It usually takes Y/n around eight minutes to get to The Last Drop while walking. And she would run, especially since she particularly enjoys running. But unfortunately with a cat in her arms she's slightly restricted from doing so.

A couple minutes pass and she hears a familiar voice calling out to her on her left. Her steps stop abruptly, causing a person behind her to nearly ram into her. Turning around with an evidently confused expression, her eyes roam around for a second until they land on her cousin, who sits on a barrel waving at her.

"Oh, Vera! Hi!" Y/n adjusts the cat in her arms and approaches her, narrowly avoiding other people walking past her.

"Where you off to?" The redhead asks, and Y/n notices a notebook and pencil in her lap.

"Vander's place."

"Oh, nice."

"Yeah."

"Have you seen Ekko around?"

"Umm no, sorry. He's probably still at Benzo's." This makes Vera hum, almost appearing disappointed. Y/n smiles knowingly but Vera ignores it.

"Okay, that's fine!"

"Mmhm. Well, I better get going, Bean is starting to get heavy."

"Oh yeah, that's no problem! See you around!" Vera reaches out and pets the cat's head quickly before dropping her arm and letting the other girl go.

"Cya!" Y/n trudges off again. Vera was alone this morning, usually she sees her with her group of friends. However sometimes she'll catch sight of her sitting by herself scribbling in that notebook. Evidently, she's keeping secrets in there since Vera tells her everything. Y/n's not hurt though. She loves secrets, and hopes one day she'll solve whatever secret her cousin is keeping from her.

Minutes pass and the young girl can finally make out the large sign of the bar in the distance casting a glow onto the ground and heads of people standing around. It's when she pushes the door open that she clocks in on how out of breath she is. Her arms are just beginning to ache, and her steps turn heavy making eyes fall on her as she approaches the bar. Music plays quietly from a jukebox and soft chatter fills the place. She's been here countless times and feels very comfortable, in fact she feels right at home. However she's still thankful that it's morning leading to less people residing inside.

Y/n takes three long exaggerated strides before she plunks the cat onto the bar. Bean immediately stretches her limbs before sitting down and licking her paws. At the same time, Y/n is lazily slumping on the bar stool and dropping her head onto her arms resting on the counter. Boy is she tuckered out already. She slowly closes her eyes, taking a deep breath, and before she can exhale she hears a deep voice coming from in front of her.

"What did I say about having the cat on the counter?" Y/n shifts her head so her chin is now resting on her arms. Vander is hidden behind Bean who is still grooming herself in front of her. She sighs.

"Sorry." But she doesn't move.

"Strawberry lemonade?"

"Yes please." Y/n hears shifting and glasses clanking before a liquid being poured. She straightens her back at the same time Bean struts to the far end of the counter to get patted by a couple of young women squealing at her. Vander places her signature cup in front of her; pink with star and butterfly doodles scattered around the surface, topped with a straw sticking out. Y/n always drinks with a straw, she can't remember a time where she hasn't.

"Thank you." She folds her legs under her then leans over to place the straw in her mouth. She hears Vander chuckle.

"Powder is awake downstairs. Mylo is still sleeping though, so you gotta be quiet. I don't want to have to put up with his complaints about two little girls waking him up giggling again." He's serious, but anyone could still hear the smile in his tone. Y/n's cheeks are puffed out by a mouthful of juice as she looks up at him. She takes a big gulp and smiles, nodding her head and then sliding off of the stool.

"Kay-kay!" She takes a few steps towards the ladies still petting Bean. She clears her throat in an attempt to get their attention. They look so intimidating and mean, and they're petting her cat. Surely they'd understand and let her have her cat back. So why can't she just shove them to the side and grab her? It's not that hard. Just go up and say excuse me!—

"Off you go, ladies." Vander's voice booms from behind her, successfully giving them the idea though nearly making them jump in their spot. Y/n awkwardly smiles and chuckles as they see her and finally walk away. She quickly grabs Bean and proceeds to the basement.

She stays mindful about the volume of her steps as she descends the stairs, avoiding the spots where she knows creaks the loudest. Turning the knob with her small hand she slowly opens the door, peeking in as she does so to survey the room. Turns out everyone is awake. Though barely.

Y/n remembers the "mission", as she likes to call them, that the older kids went on yesterday. Vi is sitting in the chair she loves so much while wrapping her hands in a fresh pair of thin gauze, struggling to keep her eyes open. Claggor is mumbling to himself as he fiddles with his goggles that he must've slept on again, and Mylo appears to be laying on one of the sofas with a pillow over his face. Y/n silently prays that the pillow magically sticks to him so he suffocates.

"Hey, Candy." Y/n fixes her gaze onto Violet who just acknowledged her presence with slight surprise.

"Hi strawberry head." She walks over and places Bean onto the coffee table.

"Y/n?" She hears a higher pitched voice to her left and her heart rate picks up. She turns her head and her eyes spot her best friend sitting on her bed, back resting against the wall and something in her lap hidden behind her knees. Y/n's grin widens as her posture subconsciously straightens. She pats her chest in an attempt to calm her heart down and makes her way over to the bed.

"Morning Powder." The two girls giggle. Mylo is already heard letting out a muffled groan.

"Whatcha got there?" Y/n sits down on Powder's left and leans over to see what is in her hands. The bluenette pulls away from her and hides the mystery item in her arms, face pink and almost panicked.

"Nothing!" Y/n is taken aback.

"Nothing? C'mon, please lemme see."

"Noo! It's a surprise."

".....Fine." Y/n pouts. Powder smiles and twists her body so her friend can't see, and lifts the end of the blanket to hide the item underneath it. As Y/n's mind begins to wander off, she immediately recalls her plan about her plants. She practically jumps off the bed in her moment of remembrance.

"Oh yeah that's right! I wanted to take my plants up to sit in the sun but I need help. Can you come with me, pretty please? With a cherry on top?" She bats her lashes at the girl in front of her in hopes of convincing her. What was the point though? She knew Powder would submit, she always did. That's what friends are for, right? The girl smiles about to reply before Vi's voice cuts in.

"If you're going up top you need someone to go with you." Her face is stern and almost challenging as she scrutinizes the two girls from her spot on the chair. They glance at each other and start giggling as though they've been caught by some form of authority. Which is in a way true.

"And that will be you, right?" Y/n tilts her head sweetly to charm the redhead. She sighs and looks to the floor as though defeated. Mylo pulls the pillow away from his face to say,

"Please go with them." Vi glances at him and shakes her head before standing up.

"Fine. You two stay here, the cat better not be dead when I come back." She points to the boys sternly. Mylo grumbles with a couple of "Yeahs", but Clagger on the other hand looks delighted.

"Oh man. Mylo fix these for me will you? I'm gonna look for a brush." He throws his goggles at Mylo and briskly stands up in search for a brush to use on Bean. The three girls are already exiting the door, Vi shutting it behind her.

"Sooo we kinda have to go back to my place and get them. I promise there's not a lot. It's just hard trying to carry all of them at once, especially while climbing, y'know? I also like the company. Not that I'm super lonely, I have you guys.. You'd tell me if I got boring and annoying though right?"

"Alright, relax Y/n. Sounds like a plan." Vi chuckles with a comforting hand placed on the young girl's shoulder. She smiles up at her. She's always really liked Vi. She hopes to be just like her some day... or be with her? She never really thought too deeply about that. She's always been there as support. She's like an older sister she never had. She wonders if Vi sees her as a sister too. She really hopes so, cause if not then she'd be deeply embarrassed.

"You could never get boring." Powder pulls Y/n's out of her thoughts. She's smiling intently at her. Y/n wants to smile back at her but she looks down and bites her lip out of nervousness.

"Or annoying?"

"Mmm..." Powder pretends to think. Y/n playfully slaps her, both of the girls laughing and too engrossed in their own world to notice Vi telling Vander they will be gone for a while.

They talked about anyone and anything while on their way to Y/n's place, and once they started going up top they were too focused on not falling to their death or getting lost to goof around. The higher up they got the more clearer the sky above them got. Y/n was right; it is indeed a sunny day. Not too windy either, so her plants shouldn't topple over. The young girl feels her insides turn warm and her smile spread across her face, ignoring the burning sensation beginning to travel up her legs. She's thankful this particular journey consists mostly of walking up stairs and going up elevators. Climbing is such a hassle. Though stairs aren't that much better. It's boring and less riveting than climbing things and crawling through small spaces. Though if   Y/n's being honest with herself, small spaces make her slightly claustrophobic.

The moment all three of them reach the top landing of a building, Y/n jogs over to the edge. It's no sunset, but the view of the city still looks beautiful from up so high. She loved the sun, it filled her with a sense of joy and protection that she couldn't find from anything else. She sighs and turns around, seeing the other two silently admiring the view.

"Shall we give the plants a seat?" She speaks softly. And the three of them place the pots of plants on an empty table; four in total.

"I wish I could see the sun everyday." Powder mumbles, mirroring Y/n's thoughts as she stands beside her.

"Don't we all?" Vi said quietly, though it sounded like she intended for it to only be heard by herself. Y/n hums to herself. She stares back out into the city. Basking in the sun's warm embrace a little longer before the three of them have to go back home.

Chapter 2…

—

i have no fucking idea how to write vi bc she's so serious all the time 👩🏼‍🦲 i'm sorry.

[littlemisslipbalm]

Demonology

Part 3: I Think There's Something You Should Know

Series Summary: A new demon has come to Nashville. Josh and Jake's ways of life have been thrown off by her arrival. The angel and demon have lived with an understanding of one another, but with Y/N stirring up trouble and asking questions, they're forced to work out a new normal. And why is she so powerful for a human turned demon anyway, that's unusual, right?

A/N: Hiiiii! Part 3 is here. Keep adding yourself to the taglist or catch up on the rest of the parts from the masterpost. I think this story is looking like maybe 6 parts...we'll see. oh boy lots of plot in this lol enjoy hopefully and lmk what you think :)

Chapter Summary: Two demons walk into a bar and an angel greets them. What on Earth could they be talking about? There's actually no good punchline to this.

Word Count: 4.0 k | Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, horny demons and angel, 18+ maybe some brief descriptions/mentions of sex - still no explicit smut (next chapter tho...), dubious understanding of demonology in reality

Taglist | Series Masterpost

Part 3: I Think There's Something You Should Know

The wind rustling her drapes woke her up in the middle of one evening when she hadn’t gone out or seen anyone beside Rori all day. It had been a good day.

The moon was almost full and was one of two lights illuminating the street below the window behind her bed. She didn’t have to sleep anymore, but she still liked to. She stared out hazily for a moment and hurriedly closed the window, feeling a human sense of nerves and dread before calming down, remembering that the things that went bump in the night were now scared of her. 

Jake had been teaching her ways to skirt Hell’s system. How to get the job done without doing much. Which she was thankful for. And she’d finally run into Josh briefly a few times, but not as many as she’d like. Not for as long as she’d like. She knew he was keeping his distance. ‘Avoiding temptation.’ That’s what Jake always said when she asked after Josh.

Tonight, she was annoyed the wind had woken her. Her dream had been extra sweet tonight. Josh had sought her out, giving her sweet gifts and feather kisses all with the backdrop of the Sunset Strip. The warm sheets were kind of like his warm chest beneath his clothes. 

The next night, the night of the true full moon, Jake was at her door. He knocked when the moon had reached its peak for the evening. 

Jake had also kept his distance in the way that mattered since that first night together. He had deemed it a moment of drunken vulnerable weakness not to be repeated. It only happened because she’d whispered his favorite fucking poem in his ear—how weak was he? Practically human in that moment. He didn’t bring it up and she felt the heaviness of his silence when she had joked about the hook up the next time she’d seen him. He was to be her mentor only.

Leaning against the doorframe, an arm on his hip and his wide-brimmed hat on his head, he spoke lowly. “Come out with me.”

She can’t see his eyes, just his lips and jaw moving. 

“I’m not at your beck and call,” She rolled her eyes, a defiant crossed arm look staring back at him. A black tank top and sleep shorts sat low on her hips, she was happy to get wine drunk in her home now that she knew she didn’t need to go out all the time. 

He leveled his head with her, making eye contact now. “Come.” 

“I’m not a dog.” She remained unmoved. Rori slinked around her legs, sniffing at Jake unamusedly. The actual dog had had to warm up to Jake these last few weeks and Rori was begrudgingly okay with him since he could feel the power the demon exuded. 

Jake rolled his eyes and greeted the dog. “Don’t growl at me. I didn’t even bring my familiar…” 

Rori had not been a fan of Jake’s crow that he kept around. Y/N wouldn’t even deem it a familiar since he was really only around so Jake could shapeshift into a bird if he really wanted but Jake insisted they were close. Sure.

After a minute of heavy silence, Jake got the final word. The stare down not really going anywhere. He flashed his yellow eyes and she hated how it made her fall in line. Jake’s true nature was malevolent despite his serene facade he often operated under. She didn’t want to ever see him truly angry with her. She’d seen glimpses of it during some of their outings together. It wasn’t anything like the man she had seen inside his mind. 

“I’m your mentor. Be a good mentee. Go get dressed.”

She got dressed, grumbling the whole time to Rori and forcing Jake to wait outside as she blasted Fleetwood Mac—for some reason, Jake’s least favorite band from her time. He rolled his eyes as he heard Stevie Nicks’ voice turned up to a fever-pitch. 

“Jake.” Y/N sniffed as she pushed past him out of her door. “Altar boy name, by the way.” 

He chuckled under his breath and shook his head, falling in step with her and locking her door with a flick of his hand when he noticed she had forgotten. 

When they arrived at this unfamiliar almost empty room that Jake refused to give her information on, her eyes cast around taking it all in with a vigilance she’d never applied as a human. Now she liked to know her exits, note any potential men who might try and cause her trouble, potential targets, etc. 

It was an old dark and gloomy bar, lined with wood that had been worn down by glasses and hands over many years. It seemed it had been loved once, now a shell of its former self. Maybe 10 people in total in the entire tired place. 

A bright light cast in the corner that caught her eye after a moment. Josh. He was perched on a chair at a four-top, patiently tapping his fingers along the table, nodding his head to the live music from a lone guitarist. 

He glowed like anything but no one else seemed to notice. Maybe it was just for her. She thought about asking Jake if he could see the glow. His bright white long sleeve tonight fell over him, perfectly fitted and pushed up to his elbows. The same blue jeans on his legs that she dreamed about feeling beneath her thighs every other night or so. 

She wet her lips, watching his angelic face, eyes shut nodding to the melodies. His lips slightly parted and she missed them. How soft and sweet they’d been when she’d licked into his mouth, giving him the show of his life. Forget that. She needed to be cool. She straightened her posture, looking like a killer about to pounce on her prey. 

Jake cleared his throat, watching Sal watching Josh, looking jealous that she looked at his brother with more desire than she did with himself. Not that he actually cared. She was his mentee. 

She rolled her eyes at him and followed him over to the table.

“Brother,” Jake spoke first, hands leaving his pockets to grip the back of one of the chairs. 

Josh smiled, standing, and touched his brother gently on the shoulder, “Jake.” 

Then a silence fell between the three of them. Who was going to be the first to acknowledge her? She stood exactly between the angel and the demon and she wished that Hell’s mouth would open up beneath her feet and swallow her whole. Rori could stay on Earth if he wanted, she didn’t even care so long as whatever the tension was passing between them stopped right this instant. 

She widened her eyes and opened her mouth to greet Josh before losing her nerve. “I’m gonna go get a drink!” 

“You don’t have to do–” Jake starts, but she’s already disappeared in a flash of crimson and black. 

Jake raised his brows at Josh while blush crept up the angel’s face and ears, the two men sat. Y/N knocked back two shots on her own at the bar while waiting for three beers. She didn’t know what they wanted and she didn’t care. Beer would have to do. 

“So,” She drawled, attempting a more cool and collected approach now that she was back. Afterall, she was a demon who was meant to thrive in situations with sexual partners. She knew how to be cool around people she was attracted to–except, what didn’t come easy to her was behaving normally around someone she actually might potentially teensy weensy care about. She didn’t even want to think that it might be two someones. Especially when her heart was supposedly dead. 

She huffs a slick smile onto her lips, slinking into her chair evilly placed between them with the beers. “What are we all doing here? A Celestial+ Committee meeting? Immortals anonymous…bit of a problem, though,” She leans forward and whispers. “I think we all know each other?” 

“Sal,” Josh starts, his tone measured. He was trying to be kind, but she felt the tightness in his throat. 

Jake flashed his eyes to the angel, a warning. He set his hat on the table, making it crowded with the three glasses.

She settled into the uncomfortable chair, widening her legs and taking a gulp of the beer. Her top might as well have been nonexistent, the deep red lace sheer and showing off her torso and breasts. The black tight vinyl pants caused both beings to flicker their eyes to her movement as she pushed her hips towards them. Josh cleared his throat and averted his eyes, taking a grounding sip of the pale ale she’d gotten for him. 

“We’re here,” Jake starts, giving an unamused look to her as she wiggled her hips and smirked in triumph. “Cut it out, sometimes the slut schtick isn’t cute. We have something real to talk about, Sal.” He widened his glowing yellow eyes at her and she sat up, immediately shrinking again. Just as she was feeling more confident, his accusatory eyes scared the absolute shit out of her. 

Josh shot a look at his demon counterpart, unhappy with the word he had just used, even if it was to describe the demon who had led him into temptation. He had been repenting for the last three months, bathing in holy water twice as often, and an extra time whenever his mind wandered to Y/N and what she’d shown him. 

“We need to find out why you’re so powerful. Who you are.” Josh says calmly. 

“I told you already.” She insisted. “Why does it matter anyway?” 

“Okay, well maybe you don’t realize this but the way you’re treated down in Hell is not normal,” Jake sneers condescendingly. 

“What he means,” Josh intervenes again. “Is that, perhaps, you don’t know who you really are either. We’re worried…” 

“No!” She immediately shoots forward, eyes blazing with hellfire. 

“C’mon Sal, you know how fucking powerful you are. That’s not normal! You’re not normal!” Jake doesn’t sound smug anymore, he sounds a little…scared. He didn’t like not knowing. 

Josh reaches a hand out to Jake’s shoulder, his touch somehow calming even though an angel’s touch should’ve been repulsive to a demon.  

“Listen, Sal,” Josh smiles, trying to bring peace to this strange situation. “Nothing is going to change. It’s okay to be scared, but Jake is right. You are far too powerful for even a run-of-the-mill average demon and you believe you were a human turned demon. You’d have even less powers then.” 

She gulps at her beer, more than half-way through it. “Why does it matter? Why do you two care?” 

Another silence falls between them. The tension returns and she can tell there’s something they’re not telling her. 

“Fucking tell me,” She spits. “Or I’ll…I’ll, fucking…I don’t know, I’ll fucking kill everyone in here. Since I’m so fucking powerful.” 

“There’s not that many people in here, Sal. You wouldn’t really be making much of a point…” Jake shrugs. “Also, why would I care?” 

“Because I know you, Jacob,” She seethes, staring darkly into his eyes. Her eyes had been black since the hellfire had left them, she was in defense mode. “Should I share with Josh what I found in your mind the other night?” 

Jake sat up straight and instantly Y/N’s mouth was shut. Not by a look, but by Jake’s powers. It felt like he was crushing her windpipe. His voice was in her head. ‘Do not say another fucking word. How dare you. You promised.’ She immediately felt meek and her humanity seeped back into her. Regular eyes flickering back to life, she slumped in on herself, wrapping her arms around herself for comfort. She was scared too. 

Josh watched the interaction, only seeing the physicality of their two bodies change. He looked up to the ceiling, lord give him strength and please don’t let anyone die tonight. “We think you might be a cambion.” He rushes it out before he loses the nerve or before Jake stops him. 

She stays silent, staring up at the angel with red-rimmed eyes–not technically demonic, simply because she had begun to cry and she wasn’t allowing the tears to fall. Jake grunts unhappily and finishes off his beer, getting up to get a refill and pointedly telling them not to discuss further until he returned. 

He came back five minutes later, silent and nodded his head gruffly for them to continue. She stares between the angel and demon again, confused and upset with both of them.

“What does that mean?” She asks, her voice soft and child-like, shaking slightly. Had her whole life been a lie? It couldn’t be possible. Why did they want to flip her life upside down or sideways or something? This second life was already confusing enough without an identity crisis.

“It means you were half-human, half-demon in your first life.” Josh speaks softly, barely strong enough to keep himself from pulling her fragile body into his own just to attempt to comfort her. He knew how scared she must be, he’d seen people crumble through history at the realization of their lives being built on lies. “Usually cambion are offspring of an incubus or a succubus and a human.” 

“That would explain your special treatment in Hell,” Jake interjects, feeling more subdued after walking it off and two shots of ‘Jamo’ himself. “But it doesn’t explain the powers. At least, not fully. It’d have to be an ancient–older than us–and powerful one to have been one of your parents and that’s just almost unheard of, even 70 years ago.” 

“Okay….” She tries to absorb the information, eyes still flitting between the two figures before her, feeling a weird sense of unreality that had never happened to her. Given all the weird shit that had happened to her since dying, it was surprising this was so hard. 

“That’s why we wanted to talk to you about it. See if you knew anything or could think about anything abnormal about, maybe, your upbringing or parents.” Josh tries, even gently soothing his hand over the one Y/N had shakily rested on the tabletop. “Anything at all.” 

Jake’s eyes watched them. The way her body relaxed at Josh’s touch. How her eyes sparkled as she looked from their touching skin to Josh’s face. Even her smile was softer with Josh. Josh’s eyes were aglow as well, an angelic white instead of a black pupil.

“Okay,” She says, looking between Jake and Josh again, feeling calmer but also, admittedly, terrified for the first time since she’d been back. “Can I think about it for a few days? I don’t think I’ll come up with anything with you two staring me down right now.” 

She didn’t understand why it mattered to Jake and Josh still but the amount of energy and emotion running through her had made her forget momentarily. Her mind was like static, the thoughts running into one another and jumbling until nothing was coherent. 

“Yeah, of course,” Josh moves his hand to rub over her back. He couldn’t help himself, he was a healer and a helper. Even with her. Especially with her. “Write things down as they come to you. It might help.” 

“Whatever,” Jake rolled his eyes, downing his beer and heading for a third. He needed to be drunk and as a demon it took a lot more work. He thought that was unfair but there wasn’t really anyone he could complain to. Maybe the big one Upstairs, but his key card didn’t work anymore. 

This night had gone about exactly as he expected when Josh had continued to pester him about it. When he returned, Josh had disappeared and Jake hoped he’d left for the night. “Can we get plastered now?” 

“Please,” She sighed, taking the second beer from Jake’s hands. “I need to dance and drink off this stress. Fuck you for this by the way.” 

“Did Josh leave?” Jake ignores her complaint about the night, looking around. It wasn’t like he’d wanted to be here either. 

She shakes her head while gulping at the beer, already moving to the dance floor that was scuffed up and empty. The live musician had left during their conversation so Jake wasn’t surprised when the old stereo turned from 2000s indie rock to 1970s hard rock. “Said he was coming back. Bathroom or something…You gonna dance with me, cowboy?” 

She grinned at Jake, already pushing the anxiety of the evening away, utilizing her favorite coping mechanism: drunken debauchery. 

He shook his head at her and sauntered closer, abandoning his beer and allowing her arms to rope him closer, pressing her hips into his. He hummed with mild satisfaction, staring at her down the tip of his nose. She stared up at him, thinking back to when he had tumbled in the sheets with her. How surprisingly kind and tender he had been to her and how she’d never seen it again. She wanted to see it again. She’d do anything to see it again. 

She ran her hand up and down his torso, taking inventory of his warmth with teasing fingers, “You owe me. That was worse than Hell on Earth.”

Jake leans his head down, lips heavy on her ear. “I don’t owe you shit, Sal.” 

She threw her head back in laughter and Jake’s arms held her waist more firmly, just to keep her from falling. Returning upright to stare into his eyes, she spoke with a saddened sort of lust. “You love talking rough to me don’t you, Jake? Just admit it.” 

“It’d be a big help if you could remember your real name while you’re writing down all your feelings later.” Jake ignores her again, allowing himself to drift his hands over the curves of her ass as she sways against him. He indulges in how the press of her breasts into his chest feels and the intoxicating scent of her perfume as he traces his nose up her throat and over her jaw. 

She whines against him. “Just shut up and kiss me if you won’t fuck me right now. I need a distraction.” 

Jake chuckles darkly, his eyes casting around the room as he tightens his grip again making her hum with a grin on her face. “You’d like that wouldn’t you, little one? In front of an audience? Sick little freak.” 

She looks down for a moment, a flicker of shame at Jake’s condescending voice before she feels the energy seeping off of him. He desired it too. She wasn’t the only sick freak. 

Jake makes eye contact with Josh at the edge of the dancefloor. The angel had been watching for the last few moments after returning from wherever he had disappeared to. He shifts his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. 

Jake decides to lean down as Y/N leans up with parted lips, awaiting his touch. He teases her, licking his tongue out past his lips but not quite touching hers. She breathes out a whine and pulls his head closer by the back of his neck and he obliges, sinking his tongue into her mouth. She melts into him. 

Josh watches on still. He can’t tear his eyes away, how their bodies snake around one another so perfectly. How she fits into him, how Jake has no problem claiming her body, touching her and alighting her skin with desire. Josh shuts his eyes for a moment. He wants to leave, he knows he should’ve walked out the door and not come back, but he can’t. She’s still here and he hasn’t seen her in so long. He knew it was a sin to be consorting with her, but, Jesus, he was already there, what was another hour or two of it? 

She pulled back from Jake’s lips, chest heaving for air that Jake didn’t seem to need. He smirked and licked his lips, moving his hand away from the back of her delicate neck. 

“C’mon, let’s go back to my place.” She tries. Her hand tightens in the collar of his shirt, needing this to make her forget her distress.

Jake shakes his head. “I’ll dance with you and I’ll kiss you till you drop, but we’re not doing that again. Never again.” 

She twirled a piece of his hair that had come free from his low bun. “Why not? We had a lot of fun.” 

“Too much fun.” He removes her hands from himself, beginning to step away. It wasn’t the fun he was worried about, it was the feeling. “I’ll see you soon, kid.” 

“Fuck you, Jake.” Anger masks the painful stab to her heart, or whatever it was that felt inside her still, at his rejection. Kid. 

“Keep dreaming,” He winks, turning on his heel and patting Josh’s chest as he goes to make his exit. “She’s all yours. Nice and fired up. Good fucking luck, brother.” He plucked his hat from the abandoned table, strutting out of the bar and disappearing instantly, as if he’d never been there in the first place. Except he had and she was pissed.  

“Thanks,” Josh murmurs under his breath, eyes downcast. He stops Y/N from running after Jake with a hand around her waist when she went to move past him, knowing that whatever fight she tried to start wouldn’t end well. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” He gets her attention, the fury fading from her eyes with one look at Josh. “It’s okay. You don’t want to fight him tonight. You’ve got a lot on your mind and it’ll only come to no good.” 

“No good is what I’m supposed to do,” She stomps her foot, petulantly but resigning to Josh’s hold. The drunken debauchery wasn’t going well and she was starting to feel depleted and depressed. An identity crisis, one rejection and likely another on the horizon with the way Josh was looking at her. 

She felt herself beginning to cry again. This time she couldn’t stop the tears. 

“Oh, god,” Josh whispered quickly, ushering himself and the demon to the sidewalk outside of the bar. The darkness of the night would cover up the sight that would raise human eyebrows. “Hey, it’s okay. Don’t cry. Please.” His voice is soft, feathery and concerned. Pleading. 

“What’s the point? Why’d they even send me here? Who am I?” She wailed, her eyes streaming tears of blood. “Why the fuck do I cry blood? This is so unfair!” 

Josh wanted to curse Jake, but he knew he was already eternally damned so it really wouldn’t do anything. He shushed the crying demon who really just looked like a young drunk girl except for the red tears. Josh held her as she sobbed, blood staining his white shirt. It didn’t matter to him. He offered soothing words to her and eventually, after back rubs and deep breath exercises, she pulled it together. 

“You can come see me whenever you need, Sal. How’s that?” Josh offers as he rubs soothing patterns across her clammy back. 

She wiped at her face and her hair that was now all over the place. “Thanks, Josh. Thank you for being kind to me. Even though…I am who I am.” 

“Of course,” Josh’s voice is full of emotion. He couldn’t help it. She needed him. “Take care. I’ll see you soon.” 

She nodded and sniffed, holding her head high again, the bloody tracks on her face looking horrifying in the dark light but Josh tried for a hopeful smile. She waved and then she was gone, disappearing into the dark and empty night. Jake must have taught her his trick.

She’s not sure what made her decide what she did next. But she was a little drunk and confused and dejected and needy for attention. Rori was asleep on her hardwood floor when she walked in the door, dead to the world till the sun came up hours from now. So after 30 seconds in the empty silent apartment she turned back around, leaving again.

-

to be continued

taglist: @ofthecaravel @gretavanfreaky @sinarainbows @jaketlove @mysticalstarcatcher @whiterosekiszka @sacredjake @beingextraisfun @malany-gvf @joshysgirl

[hoes4hoseok]

txt as emails i can't send

enhypen version ☆ sour version ☆ masterlist

"i'm gonna see sabrina today YAY <3"...is what i wrote as the caption for this in APRIL when i started writing this. she was AMAZING though. enjoy!

beomgyu as read your mind

"you say that you wanna be alone, but night & day, want me at your beck & call"

beomgyu is 100% cryptic but (hopefully) only until you actually start dating

so it might be very hard to read him & figure out whether or not he wants you

he definitely thinks of a partnership as a team (as he should)

but...he might have trouble doing that if he hasn't dated anyone in a hot minute

(yikes)

i think he'd be kinda unintentionally hypocritical & be like "just tell me" when you're hiding something from him

&& then turn around & do the same thing LOL

hueningkai as already over

"how am i supposed to close the door when i still need the closure?"

something about the yeehaw energy in this song screams hueningkai to me

but beyond that, i low-key think hueningkai wouldn't have the guts to break up with you

&& i don't mean that solely in a the way that he strings you along, but rather the "i like you a lot so i'll keep making out with you but this is not working & we both know it" way

you could sense it too but you'd kind of be the same way 😭

that's not healthy though!! we all know that right?!

yeonjun as bet u wanna

"hurts to see me out of your reach, bet you wanna touch me now"

i can see this going both ways, no matter who dumped who, one of y'all would probably regret it!!

if it was you regretted it, it would be sparked by just seeing him him again

whereas i can picture yeonjun having terrible timing and realizing he still wanted you after you were already moving on with someone else

either way, you would not get back together after this fiasco. because damn.

also. something about the yeehaw energy in THIS song screams YEONJUN to me.

soobin as skinny dipping

"it'd be so nice, right? right? if we could take it all off & just exist"

soobin wouldn't want to go no-contact after your break up, but that's just how it works out sometimes

it's hard to see someone you still love & not be with them!

so naturally, you'd stop going to your coffee shop at the same time & texting him about your family drama

but you'd miss each other

so naturally, you'd think a lot about meeting him again under different circumstances when you could forget about the unintentional pain you caused each other

i think if you did meet each other in the future, friendship would definitely be on the table

&& maybe more further down the line :)

taehyun as things i wish you said

"i waste my time, i waste my life on idiotic things, like things you never said, things you'll never say to me"

taehyun may be honest with you when you break up but,, that doesn't mean that the truth is what you want to hear

so he'd tell you as much of the truth he thinks you can "handle" but that just hurts you more because you fill in the gaps yourself

&& afterward you'd just kind of be hoping it's hurting him as much as it's hurting you

when it isn't — & you have to remind yourself that he would have told you if it did

but really,, would he?

enhypen version ☆ sour version ☆ masterlist

[critter-genfic-events]

This week, we have ten fics featuring neurodivergent takes on our favorite characters! Autism, PTSD, anxiety, ADHD, depression and more - ten great explorations of Exandrians having to deal with the same issues a lot of us have under the cut.

If You're Happy and You Know It by pinkevilbob (1075, General) Warnings: None Pairings: Jester Lavorre & Caleb Widogast

Caleb feels ashamed when stimming. Jester doesn’t think he should hide his happiness.

Reccer says: I love how Jester’s happy hops!

Say a Name, Any Name (My Name) by QuillAndInkWrites (881, General) Warnings: None Pairings: Jester Lavorre & Marion Lavorre | Ruby of the Sea, Fjord & Jester Lavorre & Beauregard Lionett

Jester chooses a new name. And then another. And then another, until she finds one that fits

Reccer says: I liked it

whispers work differently now by Anonymous (5426, General) Warnings: Sensory overload, autistic meltdowns Pairings: Essek & Jester, Essek & Caduceus, Essek & The Mighty Nein

Essek and Jester are both autistic, but they have opposite sensory needs. When she invites him to a crowded festival, he gets very overwhelmed, but the Nein take care of him.

Reccer says: The descriptions of Essek's meltdown make me feel a little tense, but it's very well written. I also like that it's sympathetic to both Essek and Jester; even though their needs conflict, they still care about each other, and it ends on a hopeful note for the future.

all the stars would shine a bloody red by InTheMidnightHour (1013, Mature) Warnings: Depression, Drug Addiction, Drug Use Pairings: None

Caduceus endures the turn of the seasons alone and what comes with that.

Reccer says: An absolutely visceral look of Caduceus's descent into choosing the lilies and the bottom of a pond just to overcome his loneliness.

stare into the sun and see everything i've done by wtgw (3234, Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Caleb Widogast & Percival de Rolo

Two neurodivergent men with angst and guilt issues walk onto a balcony. (Or Percy helps Caleb cope with a panic attack.)

Reccer says: This is one of my favorite fics ever. The way Percy handles Caleb's anxiety is absolutely IC without feeling preachy or condescending to the point where it makes me feel better. Sometimes when I'm feeling overwhelmed I think of this fic. It's just that soothing.

in the morning i'll be rising, i'll be waking with the sun by ghostsquidswrites (4156, Mature) Warnings: None Pairings: Eadwulf Grieve & Yasha, Astrid Beck/Eadwulf Grieve

Eadwulf and Yasha run together, and talk it out

Reccer says: This is an amazing pairing given the insight and weight they deserve, as well as being so lovely and atmospheric.

I'm the Cleric by devil_seabird_king (ShaaKi) (2100, General) Warnings: None Pairings: Fresh Cut Grass & Milo Krook, Caduceus Clay & Essek Thelyss, Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III & Pike Trickfoot, Deanna Leimert & Prism Grimpoppy, Jester Lavorre & Marius LePaul

What if Exandrian meds were derived from arcane magic and stopped working during the solstice?

Reccer says: This is a great exploration of a throwaway line, some of my favorite types of fic!

Aeorian Dreamer by Lizable (2490, Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Fresh Cut Grass & Ashton Greymoore

What FCG's life was like before Aeor, and what might have caused them to forget

Reccer says: It's a very interesting take on what they might have been like in Aeor - including therapy!

Fools Crushin' by Ms_Fahrenheit (1013, General) Warnings: None Pairings: Essek & Verin

Teenage Essek and preteen Verin tease each other about crushes. (Also see the first part of this series)

Reccer says: Arospec/acespec mood. Cute sibling vibes.

secrets with no one to tell by memorysdaughter (3138, Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: None

Vax thinks about how all of Vox Machina's members are different. Except, according to Vex, him

Reccer says: It's a nice, sweet exploration of how all of the characters of Vox Machina could be neurodivergent

If you liked this rec list, follow along for more! We'll be posting a new list with a new theme each Monday. Want to make your own recs? Check out the rules, and then use the form to submit!

Next week, it's all angst. Have some good whumptober recs? People being sad? Now's the time to rec! After that, we're following it with a week dedicated to Percy, who is famously not angsty at all.

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 266. brb x oc

a/n: smut??? in the next chapter??? more likely than you think. (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

/225/226/227/228/229/230/231/232/233/234/235/236/237/238

/239/240/241/242/243/244/245/246/247/248/249/250/251/252

/253/254/255/256/257/258/259/260/261/262/263/264/265

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @novastories @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix @lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @louisahale @leobabbyyy @booklover2sblog @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @fanboyswhore9 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23 @gh0stsgoodgirl @mygyn @chavivaelisheva @kmc1989 @enchantingharmonyalpaca

-

Beatrice and Shells huddled together in the closet, their faces reflecting a mix of frustration and annoyance as they watched Miranda move about the bar as if she owned the place.

The unwelcome guest had a way of making her presence known, and it was clear that she was there to stir up trouble.

Beatrice let out a quiet groan, her voice filled with exasperation. "Oh, I hate this."

Shells, on the other hand, couldn't help but wear a mischievous smirk as she observed the scene. "Same."

Beatrice gave her friend a quizzical look. "You don't look like you hate it. You're smiling."

Shells chuckled softly, her eyes never leaving Miranda as she continued to cause a scene. "Babes, for God's sake, when do we ever have drama in the bar? This is like live entertainment. And I'm enjoying the show."

Beatrice couldn't help but share a small, reluctant smile with Shells. It was true that their bar was typically a place of…well anything but Miranda.Anything but a breeding ground for drama. But Miranda's unexpected appearance had thrown a wrench into their peaceful evening.

"God, I hope Aunt Penny gives her an earful," Shells muttered under her breath, her frustration evident. "Fucking bitch."

As they continued to observe Miranda's antics, Penny, approached the unwelcome guest with a stern expression. Her interactions with Miranda promised to be interesting.

“Can you hear anything?”

“No,can you?”

Bea gave her friend a look, “If you can’t why do you think I can?”

There’s a pause, then Shells muttered, “Good point.” after a few seconds of contemplation, Shells looked back up at Bea, “We should walk out. I wanna hear what’s going to happen. I can’t wait…but we have to be careful.”

Beatrice and Shells exchanged a knowing look, their curiosity getting the best of them. They decided to tread carefully and quietly, hoping to eavesdrop on the unfolding drama without getting caught. They made their way out of the closet and slowly crept toward a corner of the bar where they slowly walk closer.

They still couldn’t hear anything.

“Shells,”Bea begins, chewing her lower lip, “The bar is packed, we shouldn’t be sneaking around when there’s people wanting drinks.”

Shells let out a quiet sigh, her initial enthusiasm for eavesdropping starting to wane as she realized the challenges of the crowded bar. She turned to Beatrice and whispered, "Fine. This place is packed, and there's no way we can get close without being noticed."

Beatrice nodded in agreement, "I know, let’s just…play it cool,alright? We can do that. We are bartenders, we can be…cool with weird patrons.”

Shells,while clearly bothered, nodded with a frown. "Yeah, you're right I guess.” she flicks her gaze to Miranda, “But if she bothers aunt Penny in any way,Bea,I swear–”

“We both know Penny can handle herself.” she reassures, ‘It’ll be fine and–” as if on cue,Miranda turned to find Beatrice standing just a few feet away from the bar counter. The woman smiled sweetly, or as sweetly as a rattlesnake would do and tilted her head towards the brunette.

“Beatrice.” she says, “What a lovely surprise to see you here.”

“Well…I work here.” she mutters, giving Shells a subtle glare when she walked past Miranda, almost flipping the bird but stopping when Penny held her shoulder, “I’m…confu-I mean, surprised, you are here.”

Miranda hummed, giving the bar a little once over, “Oh,I’ve been to places,” she runs her finger down the wood, then rubs against her thumb, almost disappointed to find no dust in it, “Places like these.”

Beatrice shifted uncomfortably, not eager to engage with Miranda any more than necessary. "Yeah, we've met before," she replied, choosing her words carefully. We had uh…dinner.."

Penny's eyes remained fixed on Miranda, her expression growing more stern. "I see. Well, what can I get you to drink?"

Miranda leaned in a little closer to Penny, her tone overly sweet. "Oh, I'll have a glass of your finest red wine. I've heard good things about this place."

“Wine?” the four women at the bar replied, poor Jessie was so shocked she almost dropped the glass she was cleaning.

“Yes,” Miranda says with a flick of her hair, ‘Wine. This is a bar,correct?”

“Yeah, a Navy bar.” Shells replies, clearly not amused by this woman’s antics, peeking from behind Penny’s shoulder like an angry child, “If you hadn’t noticed it yet.”

Miranda's condescending attitude didn't sit well with anyone, and her request for wine in a military bar raised a few eyebrows. Beatrice couldn't help but exchange a bemused look with Penny, who continued to maintain her professional composure, though her eyes showed hints of annoyance.

Penny, still unfazed, gave Miranda a tight smile. "Of course, ma'am. One glass of our finest red wine coming right up."

“Wait we have wine?”

“Shells, shush.”

As Penny began to prepare Miranda's order, Beatrice couldn't resist the urge to engage in some subtle banter. "Wow, Miranda,” she laughs, almost trying to not make this even more uncomfortable than it needs to be, “Most people come to this bar for a good, strong beer, not a glass of wine."

Miranda turned to Beatrice, her expression masking her irritation. "Well, I do have more refined tastes. Not everyone enjoys the common man's drink."

Shells couldn't hold back any longer and interjected with a sarcastic tone, "Oh, yes, because drinking wine in a Navy bar is the epitome of sophistication."

Beatrice shot Shells a look to caution her, but she couldn't help but bite back a chuckle. It was clear that Miranda's presence was testing their patience.

Miranda, sensing the sarcasm, decided to take it in stride, though her smile was more of a smirk. "I have a preference for the finer things in life, darlings. It's a shame not everyone can appreciate that."

“Well you–” Penny shot Shells a look, but since the boss had her back to Beatrice, the brunette couldn’t see her reaction. She only saw when Shells skulked back to the end of the bar, muttering to herself.

Penny turns just in time to meet Beatrice’s eyes, then slides down the glass toward Miranda, "Here's your glass of red wine, ma'am. I hope it meets your…expectations."

Miranda took a sip, her eyes narrowing slightly as she considered the taste. After a moment, she offered a curt nod of approval. "Not bad. It'll do for now."

Beatrice couldn't help but exchange a glance with Penny, both sharing an unspoken sentiment that Miranda's presence was far from the usual crowd they encountered at the Hard Deck. Beatrice clears her throat, “Well,I better go back to work–”

“Ah,ah,ah,”Miranda tuts, “Beatrice, please, I’d love it if you were my server.”

Damn,hearing from Miranda made Beatrice almost question what sort of server she meant.

Beatrice felt a wave of discomfort wash over her at Miranda's request. She wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of serving Miranda, especially given their previous encounters. However, she had to maintain her professionalism and couldn't outright refuse.

She wanted. But couldn’t.

With a forced smile, Beatrice nodded. "Sure, Miranda. I'll be your server for the evening. Is there anything else you'd like to order?"

Miranda's lips curled into a self-satisfied smile. "How delightful, Beatrice. I'll start with another glass of the same red wine, and then we'll see where the evening takes us."

‘...you…you just got this one though…”

“Yes,well,I love wine,dear.” she flicks her hand at her, “Now go on.”

Beatrice bristled and it took everything in her to not reply how she deserved. However, she had a feeling this was payback from the dinner, and Miranda knew Bea couldn’t talk back, at least not how she desired to.

Sheforced a polite smile and turned to retrieve another glass of red wine for Miranda. She couldn't help but feel a sense of frustration at the woman's high-handed behavior. While she prided herself on her professionalism, it was clear that Miranda was testing her patience.

And she was doing it on purpose.

As Beatrice returned with the freshly poured glass of wine, she set it down in front of Miranda with a smile that masked her true feelings. "Here you go, Miranda. I hope this one meets your expectations as well."

Miranda accepted the glass with a nod of thanks, her demeanor maintaining an air of superiority. "Thank you, Beatrice. I appreciate your service."

Bea bit her lips, “Mhm!Of course!” With that, Beatrice excused herself to attend to her other customers, taking orders and ensuring everyone at the bar had what they needed. However, she couldn't help but glance over at Miranda from time to time, observing the woman's interactions with the rest of the patrons.

Miranda was clearly out of her element in the bar, her refined tastes and condescending attitude setting her apart from the usual crowd. Beatrice couldn't help but wonder what had brought her here and why she had chosen the Hard Deck for her evening out.

As the night wore on, Miranda remained at the bar, nursing her glass of wine and occasionally engaging in polite conversation with other patrons. And they were…a bit confused by her as well. 

Beatrice returned after a while, about to ask her something but  Miranda turned towards her with a faint smile. "You know, Beatrice, I can't help but admire your ability to handle a place like this. It must be quite the change from your usual social circles."

Beatrice paused for a moment, taking in Miranda's comment. She had expected a snide remark or criticism, but instead, Miranda's words held a hint of genuine curiosity. "...Oh. Um…well not really? I…I know pretty much everyone here.”

Wait, was Miranda being nice?

Miranda raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by Beatrice's response. "You know everyone here? How...interesting. I suppose you've adapted to this environment rather well, then."

Nevermind.

"I've worked here for a lon time, so I've had the chance to get to know many of the regulars here."

Miranda took a sip of her wine, her eyes fixed on Beatrice. "Yes, I suppose that's one way to put it. I imagine your husband's position as a Navy pilot has given you a unique perspective on these...gatherings."

”....I…guess so.”

Miranda leaned in slightly, her gaze still assessing Beatrice. "And what about your husband?”

“What about him?”

“How does he like you,” she sips her wine, “Working at this bar?”

Oh,great. She’s going to that, then.

She maintained her professionalism, though it was becoming increasingly difficult. "My husband respects and supports my work. He doesn’t care I work at the bar."

Miranda seemed to take pleasure in prodding Beatrice. "I see. It must be quite the balancing act, juggling your job here with the responsibilities of being a Navy pilot's wife. Tell me, do you ever find it...challenging?"

"It has its moments, like any job, but we manage just fine. "

Miranda's eyes gleamed with a smugness that grated on Beatrice's nerves. "Ah, you have a support system. How lovely. And I suppose that's why you've managed to adapt so well to a place like this."

"Yes, I think so.”

Miranda's smile widened, and it was evident that she was relishing the interaction. "How fascinating. Well, Beatrice, I must say you have been quite the revelation tonight. I never would have expected to find someone like you in a place like this."

Beatrice's patience was wearing thin, but she remained composed. "People come here for all sorts of reasons, Miranda. I'm just here to provide them with good service."

Miranda's gaze drifted to the other patrons, her tone filled with a hint of disdain. "Yes, I suppose good service is a rare find in establishments like this."

At this point, Beatrice had had enough of Miranda's thinly veiled insults. She maintained her professionalism but decided to change the topic. "Is there anything else you'd like to order or discuss, Miranda?"

Miranda seemed satisfied with the effect she had on Beatrice. She leaned back in her barstool, swirling the wine in her glass. "No, I believe I've had my fill of...conversation for the evening. You may go attend to your other patrons." and she flicked her hand again.

Beatrice took a step back, her polite smile never wavering. "Very well, if you change your mind, feel free to let me know. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

With a nod, she moved away from Miranda's corner and returned to serving the other patrons at the bar. She clenched her teeth so hard she could hear them creaking together, tossing the notepad on the counter and muttering ‘Break’ to Penny who just said nothing and let her pass.

Once she was out, she took her time to calm herself the best way she could.

And it was a bit hard.

Shells found Beatrice pacing outside the bar, smirking sympathetically at her friend, crossing her arms while leaning against the wall "You okay, Bea?"

Beatrice nodded with a forced smile. "I'm fine. Just fine.."

“You looked ready to murder her.” she says, “Not that I’d hate to see it.”

Beatrice huffed at Shells' comment,crossing her arms. "I almost did it,Shells. Almost. "

Shells couldn't help but be curious. "What was she saying to you, anyway? You looked pretty annoyed."

Beatrice sighed and leaned against the wall beside her friend, grateful for the opportunity to vent quietly. "She was asking about how I balance working here with being a Navy pilot's wife, same thing talked about before but…ugh, fucking hate her."

Shells rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Mood, me too. I mean, at least you’ll go back home in a few hours.” she shrugs, “Maybe she’ll leave then.”

Beatrice nodded in agreement, the frustration still simmering beneath the surface. "Yeah, you're right. She'll probably leave when the bar closes.”

“Mhm.”

“But…I’ve decided one thing.”

“Yeah? What?”

Beatrice inhales shakily, “I’m going to fuck the hell outta Rooster tonight.”

[rekiilysm]

Together? Together. Ch1

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・

⇨ 「pairing— mark watney x fem!reader」

⇨ 「a/n— more than a year later, i’m FINALLY writing something for my favorite nerd. p.s. i’m still upset that there’s not a lot of mark watney stuff on here」

⇨ 「warnings— none i think」

⇨ 「word count— 1.9k」

CHAPTER ONE: THE STORM

“All right, team, stay in sight of each other. Let’s make NASA proud today.”

“How’s it looking over there, Watney and L/n?”

“Well, you’ll be happy to hear that in Grid Section 14-28 the particles were predominantly coarse,” Mark explained to the team as him and Y/n crouched down with little clear sample containers in their hands.

“But in 29, they’re much finer and should be ideal for chem analysis,” Y/n added, not looking up from the red sandy ground.

“Wow. Did everybody hear that? Mark and Y/n just discovered dirt. Should we alert the media?” Martinez spoke over the channel sarcastically.

Mark rolled his eyes, “Sorry, what are you doing today Martinez? Making sure the MAV is still upright?” Y/n felt a small smile creep onto her face.

“I’d like you to know that visual inspection of the equipment is imperative to mission success. I also would like to report that the MAV is still upright,” Martinez replied smartly as the two botanists smiled.

“Thank you for your hard work, Martinez,” Y/n said in a joking matter. Mark chuckled as he continued to chip at the rock.

“Watney, L/n, you keep leaving you channel open which leads to Martinez responding, which leads to all of us listening, which leads to me being annoyed,” Commander Lewis spoke.

“Roger that. Martinez, the captain would like you to please shut your smart mouth,” Mark said. Y/n snorted loudly, looking over to her best friend who had a mischievous smirk on his face.

Beck, in the HAB studying samples, shook his head. “We’d prefer to use a different adjective to describe Martinez’s mouth.” Mark and Y/n started laughing with each other, making it hard to focus on their task.

“Did Beck just insult me?” Martinez spoke unbelievably.

Y/n stopped her laughs for a moment, “‘Doctor Beck.’ And yes.” She couldn’t help but send a smart reply right back at the man.

Johanssen, sat at her computer in the HAB alongside Beck, was tired of the four’s bickering. “Happy to turn the radios off from here, Commander. Just say the word.”

Mark stopped from what he was doing and looked back at Lewis, “Wait, Johanssen. Constant communication is the hallmark-“

“Shut ‘em off,” Lewis told Johanssen, interrupting Mark.

“No-“

“Wait!-“

Mark and Y/n tried to get them to stop, but they were interrupted by a small ringing noise, indicating that the radios were turned off. “I apologize for my countrymen, Vogel.” Lewis said as she walked past the two plant nerds.

“Accepted,” Vogel replied.

With a sigh, Y/n looked up at her Commander. “How many samples do we need, Commander?”

“Seven, 100 grams each,” she told the two, who nodded before getting back to work. Lewis walked a little bit away from them before crouching down to collect her own samples.

“Commander, you should come inside. You’re gonna want to see this,” Johanssen said over the radio, her voice slightly panicked.

“What is it?” She asked, continuing her task.

“A storm warning,” Johanssen said, making the astronauts stop their work. Mark and Y/n gave each other a wide-eyed look.

“I saw that in this morning’s briefing. We’ll be inside before it hits,” Commander spoke.

Johanssen continued, “Yeah, they upgraded their estimate. The storm’s gonna be a lot worse.” This caused Lewis to stand up and look around. The wind started to blow stronger, stirring up the sandy ground.

“Martinez, how does it look?” Lewis asked the man at the MAV.

“Not good,” he replied as he stared at the large dusty cloud, the sound of thunder beginning to fill their ears.

———

Not too long after Johanssen’s warning, the four astronauts stood in the HAB staring at a computer. “‘1,200 kilometers in diameter, bearing 24.41 degrees,’” Commander Lewis read off of the screen. Y/n and Mark stood side-by-side still in their suits, their helmets off.

“That’s tracking right towards us,” Beth Johanssen didn’t look away from the computer screen. Y/n’s gloved hand found Mark’s, squeezing it as tightly as she could. Mark gave her a small kiss on her forehead, silently telling her everything would be okay.

“‘Based on current escalation, estimated force of 8,600 newtons,’” Lewis continued to read off.

“What’s the abort force?” Mark asked.

“7,500,” Beck answered.

“Anything more than that and the MAV could tip,” Martinez said over the radio.

“Do we scrub?” Vogel asked the Commander.

She nodded, “Begin abort procedure.” Mark and Y/n look at the screens in disappointment.

“We are estimating with a margin of error. We could wait it out,” Y/n spoke up. Lewis looked over to the her and then the screen again with a sigh.

Mark nodded along with his best friend’s words, “Let’s wait it out.” Everyone looked over to him. “Let’s wait it out,” he repeated.

“Commander?” Beth asked the pondering woman standing over her.

“Prep emergency departure,” she said before walking off quickly.

“Commander,” the two botanists spoke in unison.

“We’re scrubbed. That’s an order,” Lewis told them both. Their shoulders slumped at the order. They didn’t want to go home yet! They still had much more to discover and experiment on! “Martinez, how long before take-off?”

“12 minutes,” the said man replied. The six astronauts in the HAB quickly got their gear back on—well, Mark and Y/n didn’t have to because they didn’t take theirs off, expecting to go back out to get more samples.

Once they got their suits back on, they rushed to exit the building. “Visibility is almost zero. Anyone gets lost, hone in on my suit’s telemetry. You ready?” Commander Lewis said, tapping on the screen by the locked door so they could open it.

“Ready!” Mark exclaimed from the back, Y/n right in front of him—which he insisted on. Then Lewis opened the door, black dust immediately filling the room as well as strong winds. The wind pushed them all back slightly.

“Commander, are you okay?!”

“I’m okay!” She replied back as they all began to fight the winds. Because Mark was the last one, he closed the door behind him before following the lights on his team’s helmets.

“Commander, we’re at 10 degrees, and the MAV is gonna rip at 12.3,” Martinez spoke with a panicked and quick voice.

“Hey! We might be able to keep the MAV from tipping,” Y/n yelled through the wind as she continued to walk.

“How?” Commander Lewis asked.

Mark seemed to catch her idea, so he spoke up for her, “Use the cables from the comms mast as guy-lines, anchor it with the Rover’s!” He exclaimed as something—Y/n couldn’t tell what—flew in their direction.

“Watch out!” Lewis exclaimed, but it was too late. The disk flew into Mark, taking him along with it as it flew through the winds.

“MARK!!” Y/n exclaimed as she stopped. The woman felt her heart drop down to the ground at the emptiness behind her.

“Watney!” Lewis yelled as well. “What happened?”

“He was hit!” Y/n exclaimed through the knot that was forming in her throat.

“Watney, report,” Beth panicked.

“No, no, no, no..” Y/n muttered to herself as she stopped walking completely.

“Before we lost telemetry, his decompression alarm went off,” Beck said.

“Where did you last see him?” Commander asked quickly.

Y/n shook her head, “I don’t know where he is!” She was panicking. Like on-the-brink-of-a-panic-attack panicking. Her best friend, her family, the only one she’s truly ever loved more than anyone in the world, gone.

“What are the vitals on his suit?”

“He’s offline,” Y/n looked down at the screen on the arm of her suit.

“A complete loss of signal on Watney.”

“Beck!” Vogel exclaimed, which the said man replied with a quick ‘yeah’. “How long can he survive decompression?”

“Less than a minute,” he responded. Y/n didn’t know what to do or say, she was still in shock of the whole thing.

Commander Lewis walked over to the rest of the team, “Line up, walk west.” And then they began walking. Y/n was determined to find her best friend, even if that meant she would be left all alone on the red planet. “He may be prone. We don’t wanna step over him.” Commander said as they used their lights to try and find Mark.

“Commander. We’re at 10.5 degrees. Tilting to 11 with a lll the gusts of wind,” Martinez warned the woman.

With a sigh of panic, Lewis stopped and turned back at her team. “Everyone, hone in on Martinez’s suit. It’ll get your to airlock. Get in, prep for launch.”

“What about you, Commander?” Vogel asked unsurely.

“I’m gonna search a little longer. Get moving!” She said, but everyone but Y/n hesitated. “Go!” The other started to move towards the MAV, but Lewis noticed a presence behind her. “L/n, go!”

“I’m not leaving without Mark! I couldn’t live with myself if I left him here,” she told her Commander.

With a sigh, Lewis nodded her head. Another set of eyes would be better to finding Mark. “Fine.” And so they started looking. Y/n tried to go the direction she last saw Mark, but she wasn’t finding anything. “Watney, report!”

“Mark!” The two yelled and searched around to see if the man would respond back, but nothing.

“The MAV’s at 11.6 degrees. One good gust and we’re tipping,” Martinez warned the two.

“If it tips, you launch,” Lewis told him, determined to find her lost crew mate.

“You really think I’m gonna leave you behind?” He asked his Commander.

“That’s an order, Martinez,” she commanded.

Y/n nodded, “Leave us if you have to.” She told him before continuing her search to find her best friend. “Mark! Can you hear me? Mark I swear if you don’t respond-“ She said but was cutoff by the sound of a large object headed her way.

“Martinez, what about the proximity radar? Could that detect Watney’s suit?” Lewis asked the man.

“It’s made to see the Hermes from orbit, not a little piece of metal from a single suit,” he told her, but Y/n wasn’t listening. She didn’t know what direction the large object was coming from, so she hoped that it would miss her.

“Give it a try,” she said.

“Roger.” He replied. A few seconds later he spoke up, “We’ve got negative contact on the proximity radar.”

“Nothing?!” Y/n exclaimed in sadness.

“No. I can barely see the HAB,” Martinez gave them the bad news.

“Commander, Y/n, I know you don’t wanna hear this, but Mark is dead,” Beck’s voice came through the radio. Those three words struck Y/n hard.

Mark is dead.

A sob escaped Y/n’s lips as she continued her search, but the large object was getting louder it seemed.

“Commander, Y/n, you need to get back to the ship, now!”

“13 degrees. If we pass balance, we’ll never rock back!” Vogel said, making Lewis stop.

“I’ve got one more trick left, and then I’m following orders, Commander,” Martinez spoke, but Y/n was partially listening. The object was getting closer, she could feel it.

“Commander! Y/n!” Beth exclaimed.

“On my way,” Lewis said as she started to make her way to the MAV. But what she didn’t notice was that she was walking back alone. “Y/n?” She asked the stopped girl.

“I can’t leave him,” she told her Commander.

“Y/n, I’m sorry but he’s gone. We have to leave. Now!” Lewis ordered her, but before she could say anything, the large object slammed right into Y/n, causing her to scream loudly. It felt like a solar panel? Y/n couldn’t tell as it pushed and dragged her away from her commander, away from the MAV. Away from her chance of getting home alive. It pushed onto her helmet hard, so hard that it knocked her head against it.

“Y/N!!” Was the last thing she heard before she blacked out.