#if you work a service job you get to come harass them for free

[tenaciousdonutcrown]

Service Industry Spookhouse:

-hall of MANDATORY TRAINING

-a closet that's just FULL of star/epson printers

-hall of pass windows with heat lamps and people asking you for things you don't have on the other side

-when you walk in, you have to buy nonslip shoes that don't fit right, several name tags, and the ugliest outfit you've ever seen

-Trapped In The Walk-In "As A Joke"

You get it

[gallusrostromegalus]

Soul Society is top heavy when it comes to power. With rare exceptions (Ikkaku), the gap between captains and rank-and-file troops, let alone normal citizens, is astronomical. How does Soul Society handle the reiryoku classism problem in and out of the Rukongai? Do the lower seats think of themselves as cannon fodder? Are there any major political factions that try to tackle the issue (ethically or not)?

So the gotei-13 is actually kind of a solution to this problem on accident.

The thing is, as powerful as the captains are, there usually only about a dozen of them, and a maximum of 2600 shinigami total. They are VASTLY outnumbered by literally everyone else, and because they need drastically more food than others (everyone in soul society needs to eat, but shinigami are at a drastically higher calorie demand and risk of starvation), they are VERY dependent on the rest of society. Zaraki made a fair fist of being a roaming menace but even he had to bow to the economy and work jobs to eat.

Hence, there IS reiryoku discrimination but it's largely in the other direction- shinigami are extremely exploited as workers, and that's the GOOD job. Other psychics are frequently drafted, kidnapped, enslaved for imprisoned so the rich and politically powerful can exploit their abilities. Even if a captain class individual were to say, take out a whole clan in self-defense, the rest of society would come down on them like a hammer and kill them or let them starve.

Yamamoto didn't found the Gotei-13 all at once. Originally it was just him, Sasakibe, the 200 spiritually aware students in his dojo, and the dojo was there to train the postal workers how to defend themselves against people trying to kill them for the messages they were carrying, but secondarily so spiritually powerful people didn't get press-ganged into serving the noble houses.

The first organization for psychic souls Yamamoto ever made was a... Relatively Safe Haven. He was also up against a wall dealing with the noble houses and other political factions so he needed anyone who could push back to do so, so a psychic would be expected to serve in at least some capacity. But the souls under his care were free to marry who they chose if they wanted or have children or not, or travel if they felt safe doing so, and even to just be weird without major repercussions, which was a vast improvement over the way they'd be treated as livestock by the noble houses. Even 1000 years later, Byakuya had to fight his family to marry who he wanted. Imagine what a psychic born in a random village and no legal protections would be facing.

So everyone with even an ounce of spiritual capacity was joining the postal service for his protection. It was a boon to the non-psychic messengers too- not knowing if a random Mail carrier could set would-be attackers on fire with their mind made all carriers safer.

...and them the Quincy attacked.

Yamamoto was now even more up against a wall because while having a united front had been helping him it was now a problem-the Quincy were attacking psychics specifically, something that endangered his ENTIRE organization.

...so he hired every spiritually powerful person he could find, including thriteen real bastards directly off of death row and organized them into an army to fucking deal with Yhwach.

Once yhwach was gone though, he had an army. And a lot of nobles looking to exploit or destroy that army.

Fortunately, one of the real bastards he'd hired had fallen for his peculiar charms and become his wife, and what Lady Tsubaki lacked in battle prowess, she more than made up for in political shrewdness. Be magnanimous, she explained. Be generous and speak of peace in our lifetimes and extend the olive branch to those who harassed you for so long. They won't realize it's bait.

So with her help, Yamamoto proposed that his army become the COURT GUARD in charge of protecting the very real and definitely alive Soul King, as well as all the people of soul society from the hollows and other misfortunes that may befall them. Finally, *proper* employment for all those spare heirs and potentially dangerous village psychics, doing the noble work of protecting society.

Why, he even helped found the central 46, a council of sages and scholars and general brain trust to work on the greater problems of soul society (a problem later but at the time, a VAST improvement over the eternally warring clans), that Yamamoto himself would be beholden to, just to show how civic-minded he was.

And just to finally, fully bury the hatchet- Yamamoto offered five of the captain's seats to the five remaining great noble houses, to be passed from scion to scion, ensuring each line would have a place in the direction of this army... Not realizing it was a trap to trick them into handing over any psychics they had, but also the high mortality rate of captains would kill scion after scion and gradually weaken the clans to the point of irrelevance.

And it WORKED.

By the time Ichigo turns up, the scion of the Shihouin clan is in exile with no plans of returning, the Shibas are reduced to a roaming band of pyromaniacs, the Tsunyashiro clan has been gone so long they don't even appear in the manga, and while the ISE and Kuchiki clans still both have representation within the captainacy... The Ise clan only has a brother-in-law and the Kuchiki are at a genetic dead end, and both those men are FAR more loyal to Yamamoto than their own clans.

Yamamoto has done what he set out to do- make a safe haven for the spiritually powerful to work the (not great but still best) protected jobs in the afterlife, destroyed his enemies the great noble houses, and largely wrested government control from them.

It's not perfect, but you can't fault the man for his accomplishment.

[creepy-friday]

Hi!!! I saw your fem! Proxy post and I was wondering if you could write a NSFW scenario/oneshot with a fem! Proxy with Hoodie? It just really got me thinking and the way you write the characters really intrigues me!

If not it's completely ok!!! I don't know if your requests are open or if you write NSFW but if you don't then feel free to ignore this!

The only specific thing I ask is if Y/N was a bit in the sweeter and innocent side when it comes to her personality, since i think the contrast between her human and naive natures contrasts with Hoodie's perveted one is really interesting, that's the only thing really.

I love your writing and hcs and remember that you don't have to write this if you don't want to!!

💗💗💗

Hii!! Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed it! 💞 💞💞

NSFW|Hoodie x Female Proxy|

Warnings: heavy NSFW,hair pulling,orgasm denial,violence,blood and abuse mentions

Two years.It took you two years of working under a faceless creature to finally give in the loneliness almost every creep of the mansion drowned into

It was noticed by Brian who waited patiently for you to say the word that would bring the nights he spent jerking himself off to you to reality

On the occasions you were free to wander around, Brian followed you a couple of times. At first it was just his job,to make sure you aren't plotting to escape and to report to Slenderman if you would be on the run

To be honest he wouldn't have rat you out even if you thought you could escape the forest,but he would've blackmail you into various "services" to keep quiet. He isn't the most innocent after years of having blood on his hands

Missions with you along with Masky and Hoodie were going two ways. It was either Maksy smashing someone's brain across the room while you're distracted or having you knock out someone while the white masked man bitches about it.

It was funny to him,really,altough the hood's expression captures sadness he's finding himself smirking to how much you try to leave a scene with the least amount of blood possible

It was a dirty thought,but he was getting hard of the amount of fear or disgust your face portrayed whenever his teammate did something grotesque

He noticed how you reacted to the cruel things he did as well

Sometimes he wonderes if you would have the same expression if he would put a pistol to your head while pounding into you,or if the sweet girl he thinks you are would enjoy it

Of course he never tried to make a move on you or to harass you like Masky did.He was simply waiting for an opportunity to fuck you,one like today

There were feelings he wasn't aware of,but he never gave them much thought because a relationship between the two of you would be candalous

The dynamic among the proxies would be destroyed,but he wouldn't mind to be honest,the word "shame" is out of his vocabulary after all the time spent here

Today was one of the days you had a breakdown and needed to be out for a while,deep in the forest to the usual spot

"You keep on coming here." he approached you with slow steps,leaning on a tree while pulling his hood upwards.There was clear tension between the two of you from the mission last night

"Oh,yeah.. " you simply responded while rubbing your hands together.

"It was a nice thing." he mentioned from last night,when you soothed Toby who was on the verge of exploding into another violent outburst to Masky's constant bullying towards him.

You gave him a nod while playing with the crushed leaves on the ground

"I know how it was at first,in these woods." Brian stated while taking a few more steps towards you."You don't have to hide there.Confess to me." he demanded."Why you do it?"

You looked at him with a puzzled expression,deep bags under your eyes from the lack of sleep due to the stress from all the worked days

"I don't know." and you told him the truth,but to be honest,at this point you were exhausted.You kept on thinking about your life..before you ended up here.

The loneliness combined with the way of how hot his body felt right next to you made you make the first move to finally give Brian the start he longed for.

You looked up to him and he leaned in.You kissed him and he followed by with a deeper passionate approach while his hands traveled from your waist to your ass and finally to your pants

As you tried to get some air as well as some distance you gently pushed him by the chest. "We shouldn't do this."

"Why not?"

"I...I don't.." it felt guilty to be out with your teammate like this.It felt like a betrayal of some sort for some reason.

"You don't what?" he smirked while closing the distance yet again "you're a virgin? That's alright,I won't bite." Brian whispered while giving wet kisses to the crook of your neck "or maybe you aren't into this kind of stuff?"

His right hand traveled to your clothed sex after giving your ass a rough squeeze.He continued to rub your cunt while his left hand went up your shirt,pulling it upwards with your bra

The way your legs opened up,giving room for his hand to toy with your covered heat and the way his tongue circled your nipple made you moan in response

After giving your puffy nipples a final squeeze he grabbed you by the back of your neck and throwed you face down on the log he was previously sitting on making you yelp in surprise

Hoodie moved his hand from your neck to your hair,grabbing a fistful of it while undoing his pants and pushing your legs apart for more room

"You're not saying anything,huh?Use your voice for a bit',I might do it more often" he whispered as he lowered his body onto you

"I..I don't know what to-" you were interrupted by the cold wind biting at your skin as he pulled your pants to your ankles in a rush

"That's okay.I'll fuck the words out of you." he whispered as he plunged two fingers into your wet hole

He kept on hurrying the pace as you were driven closer and closer to the edge then suddenly went slower

"Please don't stop" you begged for him,your mind long gone into a hazy cloud as he gently lifted your head by the hair

He entered in without much effort as you arched your back followed by his grunts

He continued to slowly trace circles on your clit,patiently waiting for you to ask for more

A few squirms and your body was rocking against his hand,the nonverbal response made the intention clear and he followed suit

The sound of flesh on flesh combined with the muffled moans were enough to make your face red,further hurting your cheek in the rough surface of the log he previously sat on

"Are you disgusted with yourself?" he smirked while continuing to pound into you "of being with someone like me?" getting closer to your face he jerked your head upwards and licked your cheek "maybe you're getting off of that"

Making the pace slower again he hissed "respond."

"N-No!I'm not!"

"Atta girl"

The whole situation driven you drunk with lust as you tightened around him

After a minute of heavy breathing you both regained yourselves from the high.As Brian caressed your hair a wet pop was heard before as he stood up straight to adjust his clothes back on. "You alright?"

"Y-yeah.." you breathed out while hurrying to pull your pants back on,still shaken from the whole experience.

"Want some help with that?" you immediately responded with a quiet "no"  while ignoring any sort of eye contact with him.

"Aight'" Brian smiled to himself as he sat down on the same log,still watching you take deep breaths in and out while leaning on the tree next to him.

The faint sound of a click was heard as he lightened up a cigarette. "Take a break." Brian whispered with a different tone now,the teasing and mischievous one being long gone at this point. "You'll need it for tomorrow."

You finally looked in his direction, eyes fixated on yours as a soft smile appeared on his face

"Maybe you'll get lonely again.I'll be there"

[sometimes-men-need-help-too]

Men share harrowing stories of abuse at hands of partners at historic conference in Belfast

Psychological and emotional forms of abuse tend to cause a more negative impact and greater feelings of fear than physical aggression.

That has been the finding of many studies, and it was a key theme at Northern Ireland’s first conference focusing on male victims of domestic abuse.

Dr Elizabeth Bates, a psychology lecturer at the University of Cumbria, told guests that female perpetrators used coercive control and gaslighting more often than outright violence, though it should be noted that many men have also been physically and sexually abused by female and male partners.

While most of the guests at the summit were women — possibly because they make up three-quarters of Northern Ireland’s community and voluntary workforce — male victims were also in attendance.

One man who did not wish to be named described how his former partner, who he was with for a decade, took control of his finances, sleep, food and, essentially, his entire life.

“I didn’t know what to do or where to go. I was on the edge of going over the edge,” he told this newspaper.

“I didn’t know there was this support for men suffering domestic abuse.

“To be honest, I didn’t even know if I was in an abusive situation because a lot of people think it’s [just] about physical abuse.

“Call me naive, but I had accepted a lot of things as being normal, and they weren’t.”

He began working 10 to 12-hour shifts, sometimes seven days a week, because he feared going home.

“My job became my safe place. I was getting to the point where I was just going and sleeping in the car because she would come and wake me up, start arguments and tell me I would be getting no sleep that night,” he said.

“That drained me. It was hard. The person I had loved and wanted to spend the rest of my life with was treating me this way, and I just didn’t understand it.”

When the man eventually sought help in 2018, he found support was not as readily available as he had expected.

He went to his GP but found they were not a lot of help.

After that, he contacted Women’s Aid, which referred him to the Men’s Advisory Project NI (MAP), the agency that organised yesterday’s conference.

Through MAP, he was referred for free counselling sessions that he attended for 11 months.

“It was like a weight off my shoulders, just being able to talk to somebody who listened and wasn’t judgemental,” he said.

Coercive control is when a person behaves in a way which makes you feel dependent, isolated or scared.

‘Gaslighting’ is a term used to describe when someone manipulates another person, using psychological methods to make them question their sanity or powers of reasoning.

Dr Bates said many male victims of domestic abuse she interviewed had experiences with these kinds of techniques, particularly around their relationship with their children.

“She was unable to control me physically so instead controlled me using our son and my access to him,” one man said.

Legal systems and social norms can also be manipulated to this end.

One father said: “She [his former partner] regularly disobeys court orders over contact and her and her partner make regular threats to my safety in front of the children.

“The police do nothing and the court orders are not enforced by social services.”

The PSNI received 118 reports of coercive or controlling behaviour In 2021/22.

It became illegal following the passing of the Domestic Abuse Act (NI), which came into force in February 2022.

That same year, 1,297 men reported to police that they had been victims of harassment.

In many cases, a victim’s personal characteristics, such as their age, sexuality or mental capacity, will be targeted by abusive partners.

One elderly man said: “She [his former partner] convinced me I had Alzheimer’s and tried to force me to sign a legal paper to declare me incompetent.”

‘Outing’ — where a perpetrator threatens to reveal a victim’s sexuality to others, or suggests they will disclose their HIV status —is a common form of abuse in same-sex relationships.

MAP reported that 49% of gay and bisexual men have experienced at least one incident of domestic abuse since the age of 16.

Some 70% of the men the charity supports are heterosexual and have faced abuse from an intimate partner.

You can contact the Domestic and Sexual Abuse helpline (0808 802 1414), the PSNI or the Housing Executive for 24-hour support

https://www.belfasttelegraph.co.uk/life/health/men-share-harrowing-stories-of-abuse-at-hands-of-partners-at-historic-conference-in-belfast/15469094.html

[sadurbanwerewolf]

Welcome Stranger

Hi, I'm Yan and this is a blog for posting art/lore for my oc Donnie. Please read the rules before you follow or send an ask. Note that english is not my first language, so there might be some spelling mistakes.

THE RULES/WARNINGS

This blog is 18+. Even though it probably won't be often or explicit, some nsfw content will be featured on this blog. By nsfw I mean sexual references and some kink content. So if you’re a minor or uncomfortable with this stuff, block me (respectfully).

No discrimination of any kind. Transphobia, homophobia, racism, ableism and other  kinds of hate speech or discrimination are not welcome here.

Be respectful towards me and others. Please understand that I am a real person behind the screen and I have other obligations beside this blog. Don’t start fights with me or people in the comment section.

I am a stranger to you. Please understand that I don’t know you personally. Please don’t send me “friendly” rude messages, trauma dumps, vents, rants about how much you hate/love something/someone or ask me for irl advice.

Don’t be too vulgar. Even though slight nsfw is allowed, explicit stuff is crossing the line. I don’t want to see porn of any kind or hear how much you want to impregnate my character. I also don’t like when people swear too much.

Don't send romantic/sexual asks about Donnie's beast form. Base and hybrid are fine but flirting with a dog is a bit too much for me.

This is not an omegaverse blog.

OOC or // means out of character.

Don’t repost my art. Reblogs are totally welcome, but reposting my art without credit, claiming it’s yours, using it for nft/ai, using it to harass others is not allowed.

Put warnings in tags when making fanart. I get uncomfortable too, so if your art includes things that are upsetting for me, please include appropriate tags. If you don’t want your art to be reblogged by me, please put something like ‘Yan/Donnie don’t reblog’ in the tags.

I will update the rules if needed, so check them from time to time.

Things that make me uncomfortable: self harm, suicide, verbal abuse, pregnancy, cannibalism, explicit gore

About the world

The world is inspired by the game series Coffee Talk, you can feel free to ask questions that reference the games. It takes place in a modern day nonspecific European country (I like the aesthetic of romanticized pictures of NYC or LA but I’m European so I don’t know a lot about America). 

About Duncan

Donnie Caddel

25, he/they, incubus/werewolf, bisexual, single

He initially was a DnD/Pathfinder character but I much prefer this modern au. I still will post art of him as a fantasy Barbarian.

Personality traits: sad, sweet, soft, playful, kind, affectionate, patient

Background:

Donnie lives alone in an apartment that once belonged to his mother. She moved in with her boyfriend and left the place for Donnie to inhabit. His income mainly comes from his work as a barista at a rock bar. He also releases his music on streaming platforms and produces pornography of himself for subscription service. He has a passion for music, especially rock, metal and indie stuff. He has several friends from college with whom he still keeps contact. They sometimes gather together to play ttrpgs or party. However, gatherings like that are seldom, so he feels pretty lonely since he spends most of his time with customers or by himself. When going outside, he likes to dress in a gothic-esque maner. At home, he wears whatever is clean in his closet, and of course, he dresses formally for his barista job. He is fond of cooking and tries to eat healthy. He very rarely consumes meat, but he does eat fish and sea products regularly. Donnie struggles with depression, however he’s getting better since he started his medication. He has a pretty good grip on how to control his transformations, but when he gets overwhelmed by emotions it’s much harder for him to control it. He only transforms into his beast form outside of the town.

In short: lives alone, barista/musician/sex worker, lonely, likes cooking, pescetarian, depressed.

[ms-hells-bells]

hi there! if it's ok i was wondering if i could get some advice from regarding a male coworker. i think what he's doing is pretty much straight up harrassement at this point. i am so uncomfortable whenever he comes in the room. he is a delivery driver and i work as a pizza chef. i'm 24 and this man is in his late 40s at least. he is just such a creep, grabbed me to hug me and kissed my cheek once, showed me some pics someone drew on his phone but then the next one was just a gross sexual drawing, made comments about women and how any woman can be "bought", saw i had tattoos and said i should get some on my boobs next, called me "love of his life". knows i'm vegan so always tried to make me uncomfortable talking about meat and stuff. for the past few days keeps asking me when i'm gonna marry. i finally had enough of him and said "never" and then he started saying that it's "against the law of nature" for me to never marry. what do you think i should do, this is actually harrassement right? i don't think anything will happen to him like him gettin fired because everyone already knows he's a creep but they don't have enough staff. so basically i'm thinking about how i should completely ignore him or just fight back against his comments from now on, just stop being in any way nice to him. do you by any chance any any advice about how i should proceed? ty

this is completely sexual harassment. write down any incidents you remember in as much detail as possible, round about dates possibly, the situation. and hand those notes to either your boss or your hr, if your employment has that. this is so that, no matter how your boss or hr reacts, there is a paper trail where his actions are on record. also, if he is a delivery driver with a separate company, if you feel safe to do so, report his actions to that company anonymously. if he acts like that with you, there may be other women he's doing it to, and if there aren't already complaints towards him, there may be in the future, and multiple complaints from different people are a quick way to get kicked off a service like delivery.

ask your boss if you can switch with another chef when he comes in, or if you can be out of the room when he comes in, or at the very least ask if you can have another staff in the room at the same time he is. so that, even if hr or management does nothing, there is some helpful change. though, they should do something, as he has touched you and made comments about your body, and no company wants to face legal troubles for violating equality laws (if your country has them), as companies who do not rid their environment of sexual hostility violate women's employment rights. you could also see if there is a local citizen's advice bureau, or community law service, where lawyers, usually union, give free basic advice to people.

finally, he has physically laid his hands on you. even if you feel rude for saying so, you can say something like 'please don't hug or kiss me, i am an employee, not a relative or friend, it's not professional and it makes me uncomfortable. if you do so again, i will report you'. i find that men are more likely to listen if you go at it from the 'professional' aspect first, rather than the 'don't touch women', because then they tend to minimise it. it also removes his potential defence of 'she seemed fine with it, she didn't say anything!' if hr or management does confront him.

i'm not sure how much you like that job, but perhaps also just keep an eye on job listings online and see if anything matches your skills. having a backup makes one feel more confident in advocating for themselves. maybe even applying and see if they offer a better deal than your current employment. applying doesn't mean you have to accept if they reach out to you.

[usertiff]

y’know... i think the only reason people are so upset about paid content is because we live in a world that does not value art/artists, nor service providers. we are taught that it’s acceptable to consume art/services and expect it for free or for the best deal. content creators are out here putting paid stuff up for the bare minimum and i see people complaining (whether it be on the dash or anons, etc) that it’s sooOoOOoO expensive. like this is the reason the phrase “starving artist” is a thing, why parents do not encourage their children to grow up to be artists or cosmetologists (at least until recently, they’re valued a bit more now) or photographers or a masseuse or any kind of service provider, etc. because art/service is not valued.  service and art is highly demanded, but for some reason the world expects to have it for free. i don’t get that, i really don’t. someone is pouring endless amounts of time, creativity, dedication, etc to a project/service and yet? what is it worth to you? nothing. you want it SO BADLY you’ll cry about it on tumblr dot com forever, harass people in their inboxes, but it’s not worth the very minimal $price tag most of us put on it? 

it just astounds me, i guess. as an artist, i cannot imagine not supporting other artists. people do not value art or services because it is not seen as essential to survival but this isn’t necessarily true, we may not need to actively consume it to survive, but it provides positive mental health effects, it provides comfort and joy, and art tells history, without it we wouldn’t be able to look back in time, and not to mention... YOU CONSUME CONTENT ALL DAY EVERY DAY — fashion, tv, architecture, makeup looks, car design, music, everything is art. 

and like saying our stuff isn’t original or we don’t own gif content or images in themes, etc, like first of all, we’re providing a service to u, and second, i cannot freaking begin to imagine going into a store, especially a small business, and demanding i take their products home free because of some insanely strange reason like “i like this decorative plate but i don’t think you made the porcelain... only the paint so you didn’t make it so you’re not entitled to the payment” or “i saw this same/similar thing made at x store so it’s not original enough and you’re not entitled to the payment” etc. or contacting Netflix and saying “actually i think i should stream for free because i’ve already seen this movie” or going to a movie and saying “this is a remake... not original content, i get in for free :)” LIKE WHAT?! 

and the argument of “most of us are poor” like oookay... i get that so hard it hurts but just bc i’m poor (personally working 3 jobs and still below poverty level) doesn’t mean i’m gonna be mad at someone else for trying to make a (VERY SMALL) profit off of THEIR EFFORT?? like u said... most of us are poor, so ur really gonna shame someone for trying to make a dime for HOURS worth of work? if u can’t afford it just don’t buy it! u don’t have to! no one is forcing u! if you want the content that badly, make it urself?????????????????????/ there’s plenty of free themes, u can make ur own google docs, ur own gifs, etc. and if u think it’s too hard, too much work, too much time, then HOW are you out here whining that a small price tag is too much to ask for? 

this vent does not apply to frustration surrounding diverse fc’s being paid content, that i understand, so long as your anger isn’t coming from a place of “i hate paying for content” and for the simple fact that we want diverse fc’s being used. i want diverse fc’s being used. when i started putting gifs on payhip i questioned what i should do, and at first i thought making them equal was better, but i decided in the end my fc’s of color/fat fc’s/etc should be easier to access. 

all in all... i think if you’re someone whining about paid content, mad about it, and most of all, someone sending anonymous hatred about it... you need to do some thinking on where it rly comes from. like your anger about paid content is a reflection of you, not us. 

in my opinion, it just shows that you don’t value creativity, you don’t value services, and tbh, you’re full of entitlement.

[obsidianlung]

The weirdest yet most illegal thing...

#governmentharassment #corporatecontrol #identitytheft #privacyinvasion

Right now in the process of looking for a stable job, I started to see a lot of wierd red flags in friends and property, and household everyday life. Work searches and seasonal work was good, until hackers in phone companies like trac phone, and free phone services would try to control my friends and life. I started to notice with free phones, every number I would store, my friend or family member would act awkward or different after a couple of days or even weeks in the phone. the free phones were causing a lot of my individuals not to sleep, I also started to notice very bad sexual problems with the persons number within the free phone. even with parents. I notice technology having its way with mother, and because I am a techy, I don’t think she really sees what I comprehend every time she says she’s going to do, or assist. I don’t think she realizes most of the attacks on her children come for her own phone. as well as my uncles’ phone. Since my uncle is a donor all it takes is for him to use your identity and your life wind up like the life of Hayden in the movie where he needed a heart. the enemy have been labeling me, and trying to tamper with phone devices, and even tried to mentally train individuals that fight back into thinking that trafficking and sex trafficking is okay. I can’t even take a piss or a shit without someone telling me what not to do or to do in the restroom. I notice the same thing when going to an interview, or applying. Why waste my time telling me your going to interview me or higher me, but when I go down to the interview you check to see if my social security is on the paper, and make a weird face when you see that im part of the minority category or indigenous population category. You can clearly see hatred for another or racism in the eyes of some of these characters placed at multiple jobs. The false files were eradicated, My groups told me the individuals trying to stick to me create files just to attach themselves to you. to try to give them a reason to lay on your case. When they really don’t have anything to have a case on me or any of my connecting foundations, bodies, hair, or body parts, let alone tech or video game systems. Sex cults began to say they were going to pick kids in my family to have sex with, individuals involved came from Chappy IP Addresses, Dacreh Wests addresses and Pings, Dacreh west looks like a younger version of Chappy, my uncle. These individuals are basic human sims/versions of people within a veil or matrix. They thrive off of control. I have so much proof of Illegal 3rd party and government strife oppression, and discrimination, for work place labor, I just found paper work for DFEH to start a case on these individuals. I no longer work at warehouse environments anymore because I started to notice really bad identity problems, and trapped work and home life. Then I started to notice really dark things like deep control, hatred, and the fact that someone was always hacking my progress, because of my smart mind(s). I was constantly badgered, begged or harassed to join an organ harvesting ring, and sex ring, as well as people smuggling ring, where peoples identities are inserted digitally, before they are put out there. A lot of my legal friends and family members were having their identity stolen from them. I was even told to allow my body to be used in manufacturing controlled and non controlled substances, Fentanyl for starters, I have a cup full of poison I spit out because I was putting the group out there, for disregarding the children, nieces, nephews, cousins, relative children of the family and friend groups. The constantly steal phones and vehicles I own whenever I visit a mobile home park community. I refuse to allow crooks to steal my phones or tech, especially if im minding my own business using my tech to apply for work. My things will not be used as a tool to get you to a place in my life where I mentally and physically will not benefit from. Success levels, stress levels, dopamine levels, etc. I was working pretty far making all the effort, until someone would hear how much I make an hour, and then I would get fired, or someone would try to say Im doing something wrong. I would travel extremely far for good positions, just to have self hear how much money I work, and they would sabotage a car, or have someone steal a car from me, or the gas that I put in the car would come up empty. Sold out type individuals would try to wait to hear how much I would be making, then they would go in there, to get me out just to replace me in the system, and I would start getting blame for illegals and criminal activity online and offline, and problems withing certain networks and infrastructures. But I notice the pattern stems from racism, and terror, and sex rings, not to mention the dead illuminati corp, a bunch of old sex addicts who try to gain control of your technology for a wicked purpose. pretty much a lot of old men that like kissing random little girls on the cheek and lips, and doing it in a way where it sounds innocent. I remember having a problem with apple, and the lady at apple asked if I knew that they were doing all that to me. I told them I knew something was going on, but other than that someone was asking for my help and I responded in an interesting way. think about how many family members are in a good position and then think about all the burning vessels of witches and bodies that put generational curses on kids and adults for no reason. when you see how much of this stuff is linked together, you start to think and wonder how none of that stuff was taken care of already because the criminals are not really as clever as you think they are. There was an individual who grew mad at the fact that I took a lot of oil and stored it away, oil and gas, fluids and drinks. These scams were and are so bad, they intercept a call ask for a social security number full social and I.D. for things not related for work purposes. they started to do this a lot so I started to change where I receive work at. Its funny because all I did was take a seat back, and watch how zombified everyone else got. they drug everyone so bad to the point where no one realizes they haven’t seen or talked to certain family members. they falsify a world of your own. I have seen traffic of individuals that look like versions of individuals I know come forth and not remember a thing and watch them melt like ice cream in a cone when we keep it 1hunnid. I sat here and watched the media and seen how bad this crap really is from network kkk, to kkk in the white house, and police force, to kkk being used on individuals in life, to kkk using the tactic that turns friend against friends, If I explained the lynching system to you, and why kkk does not need to make it to a sanctuary city you would be pissed. I just might let individuals know about the trafficking systems, organ harvesting systems, and baby sacrificing systems that politicians, police force, and illuminati systems use. once all those informations began to stream, I started handling personal attacks from criminals hiding in networks, I started watching public bathrooms being used in fucked ways.

[viking-raider]

Southern Generation - Part IV

Summary: Sy wakes up in Lily’s arms and shows his gratitude for her comforting him. The mysterious caller is revealed, causing Sy to get extremely protective.

Pairing: Captain Syverson/OFC

Word Count: 7,178

Rating: M - Language, Protective!Sy, Domestic Kink, Stalking, Harassment, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Confession, Smut - Nipple stimulation, intercourse, orgasm, cream pie. 

Inspiration: Always wanted to write a Sy fic and this is a re-work on an old fic I wrote several years ago.

Author’s Note: Thank you for all the love and support, @wondersofdreaming​! Your ideas, suggestions and encouragement mean the world to me, and my stories.

Sy woke the next morning wrapped around a warm body and a steady heart beat in his ear, he tipped his head back and was met with Lily's sleeping face, his head pillowed on her breasts. He smiled, hugging his arms snugger around her waist and sighed, comfortable and peaceful, nuzzling his face into her chest.

Lily moaned softly, making Sy smile against the fabric of the night shirt she was wearing, her hand moved against the broad expanse of his back, fingertips sleepily caressing his spine, unconsciously soothing him, before moving between his shoulder blades, tickling the nape of his neck and rubbing the back of his head with her palm.

He vaguely remembered her calling his name and holding him after his nightmare, whispering into his ear that he was safe and at home, with her. Lily made the choice to bring him to her bed, comforting him even more, until he fell asleep, and for the first time in years, Sy actually dreamt about something other than war and endless spaces of bloody sand.

Reaching up, Sy brushed his fingers through her bangs, smiling. “My Angel.” He whispered, not wanting to wake her.

Carefully unwrapping himself from around her, Sy slipped out of bed and gingerly covered Lily up, before tip toeing downstairs to the kitchen. Scratching the back of his head for a moment, Sy moved about the kitchen, setting up the coffee maker, pulled out the skillet and started making breakfast. He figured she had been making him breakfast every morning for the last several months, it was time for him to return the favor.

So, Sy went all out, once he had everything made, he brought it upstairs to her.

Lily took a deep breath and moaned, stretching and rolling onto her back, but found Sy was no longer in bed with her. She sat up, panicked that something had happened to him, and was about to get out of bed to look for him, when he appeared in the bedroom door, relieved he was all right.

“Morning.” He smiled, finding her sitting up.

“Did you make breakfast?” She frowned as he approached her side of the bed.

“I did.” He nodded, setting her steaming cup of tea on her bedside table. “I thought, since you always make me breakfast, that I'd make you breakfast this go around.” Sy explained, setting the tray of food over her lap.

“What's better than breakfast in bed?”

“Nothing currently comes to mind.” Lily smiled, a soft blush on her cheeks, actually pleasantly surprised at this change of events, touched at Sy’s sweet gesture.

“I didn't think so.” Sy chuckled, pulling up the chair that was at a small desk in her room and sat down, balancing his own plate of food in his lap.

“So, what's on your agenda today, Captain?” She asked, taking a sip of her tea and was surprised to find it was exactly to her liking.

“I think, it's time I started working on the roof.” He replied, bringing his fork to his mouth. “I want to at least give it some temporary patches, before the weather turns.” He told her, after swallowing. “It'll also give me a chance to find out what all the problems with it are, and if I'll need to re-roof it.”

“I hope not.” Lily frowned, washing down some of her food with a gulp of tea.

“Well, from what I've seen on the ground, it looks to be the original roof that was put on when the house was built.” He chuckled at her, setting his empty plate on her nightstand. “That was nearly a century ago.”

“Unless, you know about it being replaced since then?” He asked her, tilting his head.

“The realtor didn't mention it to me.” Lily replied, searching her mind for any scrap of memory of the day she bought the place.

“That's all right.” Sy assured her, gently touching her hand. “I'll get it done, don't you worry.”

Lily smiled at him, turning her hand to thread her fingers with his. “I'm not worried, since you're the one on the case.” She replied, softly.

Sy grinned at her, bringing her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers, before letting go and collecting their plates. “You know, what would you say, if I managed to install a dishwasher for you?” He asked, pausing in the doorway of her bedroom.

“I have a dishwasher.” Lily giggled, holding up her hands and wiggling her fingers at him.

“You know what I mean, sugar butt.” He laughed, smirking even broader at her.

Lily shrugged, still giggling at him, her cheeks coloring at his nickname. “I don't know, Bear. I've never had one before.”

“Well then, Angel, I'll riddle that one out for you.” He promised in a soft voice.

“I believe you.” She whispered back, giddy, and not for a dishwasher.

“I'm going to check the mail.” Lily said, drying her hands on a dish towel, after washing the dishes from lunch.

“All right.” Sy nodded, still sitting at the table.

Sy had stood to refill his coffee cup, when the phone rang. Biting his lip and glancing out of the kitchen, he saw Lily was too far down the driveway to call her back to answer it, so he picked it up instead; clearing his throat.

“Moore residence.” He spoke into the receiver.

“She's a sweet thing, isn't she?” A sinister voice asked from the other end.

“Excuse you?” Sy barked, a flash of hot anger bursting through his body.

“Oh yes.” The voice chuckled, incredibly delighted. “She is sweet as a Lily, so pure and good.”

“Who is this?” Sy demanded with a deep growl, his teeth gritted and bared as he gripped the handle of the phone even tighter in his hand.

“She's mine, you know.” They growled back at Sy, breathing heavily, their own anger mounting. “She's always been mine and she will always be mine.”

“Not anymore.” Sy hissed back and slammed the phone down in its cradle.

“Sy?” Lily frowned, coming into the kitchen as he hung up the phone. “Who was that?”

“I don't know, you tell me?” He replied, turning towards her, brows drawn together.

“I'm not the one that answered it, Austin.” She countered, shaking her head, confused by his anger.

“It was some guy, said you were his, always had been and would be.” Sy told her, pushing his jaw forward.

Lily's eyes glassed over, letting out a shuddering breath and started trembling. Sy blinked at her, his anger at the caller's words melting away to alarmed concern. He took a step forward, reaching out for her, but Lily stumbled away from him, tears finally spilling free.

“Lily.” He whispered softly, his chest tight. “Easy.” He cooed at her, licking his lips.

“I'm not his, not anymore.” She whimpered, shaking her head. “Why can't he just leave me be.”

Sy blinked at her, frowning harder. “What?”

“Nothing.” Lily mewled, biting her lip.

“No, come on.” He coaxed her, resting his hand on her arm and gently pulled her against him. “Tell me.” He whispered, gently rubbing her back.

“I thought I got away from him.” She sniffled against his shirt. “Thirteen hundred miles away from him. I was so careful—so careful.” She mumbled, hands clinging onto the sides of his shirt. “I don't-I don't know how he found me—unless...”

“Unless?” Sy frowned, still slowly rubbing her back and trying to process what she was telling him. “Sit down.” He said, moving them towards the breakfast table and pulled out a chair for her, before bringing the other one around from the other side to sit beside her.

“Start at the beginning.”

Lily cleared her throat and stared down at her hands, folded in her lap. “I was born and raised in Middleburg, Virginia. You know, that I'm an only child and that my mom died, when I was born. I was raised by my grandparents, because my dad was in and out of my life, before just finally disappearing from it, when I was nineteen.” She explained to him, licking her lips.

“He blamed me for my mom's death.” She added, quietly.

Sy reached out and rested his hand on her thigh, squeezing it gently, and gave her a sweet smile.

“When I was seventeen, I met a boy at church, Jak.” Lily continued to explain to him. “It was the only time I really got to interact with others, my grandparents were strict, homeschooling me and only really letting me out of the house, unless they were with me, which was usually only for church on Sunday.” She fidgeted, shyly. “He was the only boy to show any interest in me, which didn't and did surprise me. The little house on the prairie dresses my grandma made me wear, and the glasses I had back then, you could see the moon through them.” She chuckled, cheeks colored.

Sy smiled back at her, even picturing her as a little girl like that, he still found her beautiful.

“But, Jak didn't care, or at least he didn't say or show he did. I would sneak out at night to meet him in the apple orchard my grandfather grew. It had been in our family since the Revolutionary War, the land was given to my, how many times, great-grandfather as payment for his service in the war.”

“I bet it's beautiful.” Sy commented, warmed at the thought.

“They are, so many of the trees are the original ones that were planted.” She smiled back, picturing the orchard in her mind. “The first one that was ever planted, after he cleared away the land, is still there and yielding, there's a plaque staked by its roots, and people come from all around to see it and the orchard, the Warren Apple.”

Sy rested back in his chair. “Your family owns the Warren Orchard Company? You're one of those Warrens?”

“I am.” She nodded, smiling proudly at that fact, but it vanished.

“Anyway, Jak and I would sneak every moment we could to see each other. He even got a job, during the summer, in the orchard, so we could see each other even more.” She took a deep breath, letting it out softly. “But, a year after we met and started being sweet on each other, my grandparents lodged a missionary for his two year mission in our ward. Jak thought he and I were getting close, that my grandparents had actually brought him to live with us, so he and I could court and marry.”

“He grew jealous and possessive. I was stupid, naive and young, I didn't know what was happening, that he was being abusive, until it was almost far too late.”

“What happened, that caused you to realize it?” Sy asked, tilting his head at her.

“I met Jak in the orchard one night, when I was twenty, the day after the missionary went back home to Michigan, because his two years were up. When I got there, Jak was pacing, already angry. Livid. When he saw me, he started yelling about how he had seen me kissing the missionary, how we practically ate each other's faces on the back porch, while everyone else was in the house, during his farewell party.” She said, glancing out the window behind the breakfast table.

“Of course, I hadn't been. Matt, the Missionary, and I had been on the back porch together, I had gone out there to get away from the press of all the people and he went out there to check on me. We had hugged, only the once, since doing so isn't really acceptable, two not courting, unchaperoned kids. But, we did nothing more, before going back inside. The truth didn't matter to Jak though, he had his version of what he saw and it was unchangeable.” Lily bit her lip and gripped Sy's wrist as his hand still laid on her thigh. “He lost his temper and hit me, but in my love sick stupidity, I didn't break it off there or tell my grandparents about it.”

“Instead, I enrolled in a university for Photography and Web Design, moved out of my grandparents' place and into one with him, like an idiot.”

“You weren't an idiot, Lily.” Sy told her, shaking his head and slipping his hand into hers. “It's more common than you think.”

“I know it is.” She sighed, clinging onto his hand.

“He only got worse and it got harder for me to get my school work done, with him accusing me that I was sleeping with my project partners, even teachers.” She huffed, shaking her head at his allegations, that now sounded so ridiculous. “The straw that broke the camel's back was,” She paused, biting and licking her lips, fighting down a bubble of emotions and memories. “One of my project mates called to ask me about the faux website we were designing for a fake company we had to make up, cause she wanted to know what time was good for us to meet up, and Jak answered the phone, claimed he heard a guy in the background, throwing the phone across the living room and went ballistic, saying I was having her call me to set up a time for me and the guy he heard, to try and fool him.”

“He spent the next hour going to town on me.” She said, glancing up at him, the hint and meaning in her eyes.

“Afterwards, he went to work and I packed a bag. I had some money from the family orchard business, so I took a good portion of it, bought a greyhound bus ticket to a cousin I was close to in New Jersey, Maggie, and stayed with her, knowing he wouldn't find me there, my grandparents wouldn't think I'd go there, and she wouldn't ever rat on me. While I was there, I petitioned for a name change, from Liliana Warren to Lily Ana Moore, and finished my degree, then found this place and moved out here.”

“So, how do you think he found you?” Sy asked, worried about her safety and angry that this asshole had the audacity to hurt her and wanted to try and hurt her again, but he kept a lid on his temper, not wanting to frighten her anymore than she already was.

“I've been keeping tabs on my grandparents, mostly through my cousin.” Lily answered, biting her lip. “She called me a year ago, to tell me that my grandmother had a stroke, a pretty bad stroke at that. She's apparently wheelchair bound now. Maggie went down there to visit them, and my grandfather was talking about how he needed someone to work on the company website, when Maggie let it slip that I have a web design business.”

“Oh.” Sy let out, eyes wide.

“Yeah.” She nodded back. “So, of course, they got upset, understanding that Maggie knew what had happened to me and where I was and all that. She called afterwards, apologizing up and down to me for it. She didn't tell them where I was or anything like that, just that I was safe and fine, and if I wanted to contact them, I would.”

“Did you?”

“I did.” Lily sighed, voice tight. “I figured after four years, I owed them a call.”

“So, do you think they told Jak?”

“I don't know.” She shrugged. “But, a week after I called them, I started getting hang up calls, then calls where no one would say anything for a few minutes, before hanging up. Then, two months ago, I got a call that was different from the others, he said something to me, and a month ago, he said something being soon.”

The wires connected in Sy's brain. “That's what caused you to take all those pills.”

Lily gulped and bit her lip, eyes burning, as she nodded her head. “Ye-ah.” She choked, fear and anxiety starting to mount inside of her again.

“Hey, hey.”

Sy cooed, wrapping his arms around her and pulled her into his lap, hugging her against his chest. “It's all right, Lily. It's going to be all right, I promised to protect you and I will. You are safe with me, you will always be safe with me, whatever the cost.” He whispered in her ear, holding her close and planning ways and means to protect her.

“Sy?” Lily called from the open door of her bedroom, just as Sy stepped out of the hall bathroom, in nothing, but a pair of black boxers.

“Lily?” He replied, rubbing the towel over his head, and looked up at her, lifting a brow, inquisitively.

Lily rested her hand on the handle of her door and stepped sideways, giving a little motion of her head into her room, a soft and offering expression on her face. Sy blinked at her, surprised, then down at Aika, who sat in the doorway of his room, feeling like he was picking what lady to sleep with for the night.

He tilted his head at Aika and gave her a sympathetic expression.

“Sorry, Girl.” He whispered to the Shepherd, turning towards Lily.

Lily chuckled at him, smiling and shaking her head as he passed by her and into her room. “You can come too, Aika.” She called to her, then turned into her room.

“You're cool with this?” Sy asked, eyes motioning to her bed.

“It was my idea, wasn't it?” She smiled at him, then stepped inside her closet for a moment and came back in a t-shirt-like nightie with Mickey Mouse on it, before pulling down the blankets and crawling into bed.

“It was.” He nodded, then laid down with her, covering up.

Lily scooted closer to him and Sy draped his arm over her waist, tucking her against him and she let him lay his head on her chest, stroking his arm. She was comfortable with the warm weight of his body against hers, the clean scent of his skin and hair from his shower. She felt Sy's body slowly melt into hers as he fell asleep, it had been her plan. Lily knew there was a high likelihood of Sy having another episode or nightmare, but figured, if he was there, with her, already safe and comfortable in her arms, he wouldn't have it.

That was her deepest hope, at least.

But, the next thing Lily knew, she was being jerked roughly off the bed and pinned underneath Sy's mountainous weight, his heavy and hot breath puffing against the side of her face as he blanketed her with his body, clearly startled and on high alert. The room lit up with a quick flash of lightning and the furious sound of rain beating on all parts of the house filled the bedroom around them.

“Austin.” She gasped, grasping the back of his arms, nails digging into his sweaty skin, thinking he had been set off by the noise of the sudden storm. “Aust-”

“Ssshhh.” He hushed her, lips brushing her temple, the hairs of his beard tickling her skin. “Stay here.” He whispered into her ear, then moved off of her and out of the room, Aika sitting in the open doorway and growling into the darkness of the hallway after him.

Lily sat up on her elbows, knowing that what was happening couldn't have been from one of Sy's nightmares or the storm, because Aika wouldn't be acting like this, she was angry, like she was daring something Lily couldn't see to try and cross her. But, nothing came, not even Sy, and Lily was starting to get worried. So, getting up, she edged around Aika and tip toed downstairs, jerking at another boom of thunder and crack of lightning, until she found Sy standing in the entryway.

“Austin?” She called out to him, over the sound of the rain, which sounded much louder downstairs.

“I told you to stay upstairs.” He barked, not looking back at her.

“What's wrong?” She asked, knowing there had to be something, by the tone of his voice.

“Nothing, just go back to bed.”

Narrowing her eyes, Lily stepped closer to him and her eyes grew wide, seeing what had caused Sy to wake up and react like he had. The large bay window in the den that faced out onto the porch and the front of the property was smashed, the glitter of the broken glass shined in the lightning strikes and left the outline of the brick amongst them, the cause of the broken window. Lily's eyes snapped out the living room window, expecting to see someone, not just someone, but Jak, to be standing out in the yard, staring back at them. But, there was no one, but her and Sy's cars. Her heart started to race and pound, making her feel dizzy and lightheaded, trembling so hard she almost lost her balance, but caught herself on the back of the couch.

Sy turned and grabbed her, picking her up in his arms and carried her back up to bed. “Stay here.” He ordered her, pointing a stiff finger at her, then went back downstairs.

Going out back, Sy grabbed a large piece of plywood he had bought in preparation for repairing the roof and instead used it to board up the broken window, until the storm passed and morning came, so he could find a piece of glass to replace it, leaving him and the den floor mostly wet. He moped the den floor and laid out nearly every towel Lily had in the house in hopes the old floorboards wouldn't warp under the water damage.

He stepped out onto the porch for a moment, glaring into wet dark. “This is my house now.” He growled, knowing Jak was still out there somewhere nearby. “My girl.” He hissed, before turning back inside, going up to the guest room to change into a dry pair of boxers and joined Lily back in her bed.

“It was him.” She mumbled, hugging her pillow to her chest. “It had to be him.”

Sy sighed softly, locking his arms around her waist and hugged her to his chest, curving his body around hers. He didn't know what to say to her, they both knew it had to be Jak, who else would have thrown a brick through someone's window in the middle of a storm like this one, especially after all the other incidents over the last several months; all the lines drew back to Jak on his unhealthy, possessive rampage to reclaim Lily as his own. Sy was afraid that if he verbalized his agreement with her, it would only inflate her already inflamed fear of the obvious.

So, he just clutched her tighter to him, pressing his lips to her shoulder and squeezing his eyes shut against the bright flashes of lightning.

“Lily, I'm going to go to town, I have something I need to pick up.” He told her, searching the living room for his car keys.

“I thought you already ordered the new windowpane?” Lily called back, appearing out of the kitchen, where she was washing the dishes.

“I did.” He nodded, he had found a shop that he could order a replacement windowpane for the den window that morning, but it wouldn't be ready until the next day. “This is for something else.” He told her, finding his keys under a magazine on the coffee table.

“What are you going for, then, Bear?” She asked, tilting her head at him.

Sy paused and regarded her. “Don't worry about it, Angel. I'll be back in an hour.” He told her, then, went out.

“Okay.” Lily frowned, glancing out the living room window, the thunder and lightning had passed during the early morning, but it was still raining cats and dogs.

Sighing, Lily turned back into the kitchen, taking a bucket and mop out of the utility closet, filled the bucket with warm water and soap, before getting down to mopping the floors, with nothing else to do in the current weather.

Sy rushed out to his truck, but was still almost half soaked by the time he settled himself in the driver's seat. Turning on the car and cranking on the heat, Sy pulled off the property and headed towards Celina. He pulled into the small parking center the small town had, scanning the rain blurred signs, looking for the one he was heading for, before opening the door and rushing towards it, pulling open the door, with an electric ding, announcing his presence.

“How can I help you?” the shop owner asked, coming out of a small room in the back and stopped behind a long glass case.

“Yeah, I'm looking for something specific.” Sy replied, stopping on the other side of the glass case, a look of understanding in both men's eyes.

“What specifics would that be?”

“Taurus, PT111 G2, 9mm.” Sy rattled off with familiar ease.

“Do you have a license and ID?” The store owner asked, eyes scanning the case between them.

“Then, some.” Sy laughed, pulling out his wallet to show the man his qualifications.

“You're a retired Captain.” The man noted, seeing Sy's military ID.

“That I am.” Sy chuckled, grinning with some pride.

The store owner got Sy squared away with the weapon he wanted, a secure case and a couple rounds of ammo, while also chattering about the military, being a retired Staff Sergeant himself. Getting back into his truck, he put the case under the passenger seat, pausing to stare at it for a moment,emotions and thoughts brewing inside of him, then shook them off. Satisfied, Sy went back home to Lily, finding her dusting the living room, when he came in, carrying the case and sat it down on the coffee table.

Lily paused, dust rag poised above the mantelpiece, staring at the case. “Is that what I think it is?” She asked, finally looking up at him.

“If you think it's a gun, then yes.” Sy replied, sitting down on the couch and tugging on the soaked laces of his boots.

“Why,” She gulped, arm dropping to her side. “did you buy a gun and bring it here?”

“Because, I wanted to and as a precaution.” He answered her, yanking his boots off.

“A precaution?”

“There is a fucking asshole out there.” Sy barked, jerking his arm up and finger pointing out the window. “Trying to hurt you.” His finger moved to her, in emphasis. “I am a big man. I'm a strong man. I've killed and subdued more than one man with my bare hands, but a personal cost.” He explained to her, standing and jerking up his shirt, showing her a couple of scars on his sides and chest, some were round and puckered, gunshot wounds, others were stripes, like stab wounds.

“If that prick decides to come into this house, to try and put his hands on you. That,” He pointed down to the gun case. “is going to be the first thing he wants to meet, because if he has to get close enough to me, that I need to put my hands on him, then they will be that last thing he will ever feel.” He told her, chest heaving as he got worked up over the situation.

Lily gulped at him, biting her lip, a flash of fear in her eyes at his passionate words, seeing a vein of rage that Jak had also been capable of.

“I just want to protect you.” He said softly, taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself down; seeing he had scared her.

“I know you do, Austin.” She whimpered back, gulping, eyes shiny. “I know you do.”

Sy moaned, something cold pressing into his neck. “Hm, Lily.” He chuckled, scrunching his head and shoulders together, grinning as the cold and wet touched his bare chest, making him grunt and wiggle away. “Why are you so col-” He started to laugh, opening his eyes, only to meet the soulful and tawny colored eyes of Aika.

“Aika, what are ya doin' here?” He frowned, and sat up, finding it was just him and the German Shepherd in the bed, Lily nowhere in sight. “Lily?” He called out, turning his head towards the master bathroom, but it was empty.

Panic filled Sy as he yanked the blankets back and pounded down the stairs into the living room, then the den. Sy squeezed his eyes shut, taking deep breaths and clenching his hands in and out of fists, trying to keep himself cool and calm, before going into the kitchen, hearing the screen of the back door knocking against the door frame, and found the main back door was ajar.

“What is she doing?” He whispered to himself, biting his lip and looking back, considering the option of going back upstairs and getting the gun, but something in his gut told him he wouldn't need it.

Opening the door, Sy stepped out onto the back porch, a shiver wracking his body as a strong gust of rainy wind rushed by him. He narrowed his eyes, scanning the drenched backyard, the tall, unruly and uncut grass bent from the pelting of the rain and gusts of wind, he caught a quick movement to his left and turned in that direction, stepping off the porch and followed after it, towards the barn, just catching the billowing fabric of Lily's white nightie, vanishing inside.

“Lily, what are you doing in here?” He called out, pushing open the barn door a bit more. “Lily?” He called again, frowning as he crossed the barn and found her huddled in one of the old horse stalls. “What are you doing in here, Angel?” He cooed at her, shaking his head, droplets of rain running down both of their faces, and watched her melt into the corner.

Lily panted, her back pressed against the warped and worn wall behind her, arms pressed to her chest, her nightie so soaked, it was almost see through. Sy bit his lip and gulped, slowly crouching down. He knew what was going on, he had seen and suffered things like this a million times over the last ten plus years. She was having a PTSD episode, running away from the terror that was inside her head, trying to hide and find somewhere safe from it. Everything over the last several months with Jak stalking and harassing her was really starting to affect her, finally breaking her it seemed.

“I'm not going to hurt you, love.” He said softly, keeping his voice soft and low. “Come here.” He gulped, opening his arms to her and biting his lip with apprehension. “It's all right. You know, you can trust me, Sugar.” He whispered, nodding his head as she slowly unfolded herself and crawled over to him.

“Hey, Angel.” Sy cooed, sighing softly, and closed his arms around her, pressing his lips to the top of wet her head. “Ssshh.” He hushed her, rubbing her back and cupping the back of her head, feeling her tears add to the raindrops on his chest.

“I c-can-can't ta-take it an-anymore.” She sobbed, trembling in his arms, overcome with emotions and cold.

“We'll get through this, Angel.” He whispered to her, cupping her chilled cheeks in his hands and tilted her head back to look up at him. “We will get through this. You and I will get through this together. Everything will work out.”

Lily shook her head, her pale lips trembling. “N-no, it wo-won't. He-he always g-gets what h-he wants. All-always.” She mewled, whining. “I don't kn-know why I-I thought I c-could ge-get away.”

Sy's expression was hard for a moment, before he brought their faces together and kissed her, deeply. Lily stiffened against him, taken off guard by his kiss, but she didn't pull away or push him away. Gulping, she shyly returned his kiss, resting her hands on him, feeling the skin of his sides jump and react to her icy touch.

“I've wanted to kiss you.” Sy said, pulling back. “For such a long time.” He admitted, looking into her eyes. “Since that day on the porch, when you woke me up.”

“Since, you gave me your hoodie at the fair.” She whispered back, licking her lips, the warmth of Sy's still lingering on them.

Sy leaned forward, kissing her gently and brushing his fingers through her dripping hair, Lily pushing forward to deepen it for a moment, letting out a breathy whimper. Sy smirked, then looked down at the floor between them, it was still strewn with decades old hay and dirt. He held up a finger and stood, bumping around in the dark barn before a scratching sound sounded among the patter of rain on the metal barn roof. A moment later, a teeny glow filled the space and Sy approached where Lily was still kneeling, holding an old, beat up, oil lantern he knew was in the barn from his many searches of the space, hanging it up on a bent and rusty nail on the stall wall, then disappeared for another moment.

“Stand up.” He said, motioning her out of the stall, holding something in his arms.

Lily frowned at him, but stepping out of the stall and out of his way, catching a glimpse of what it was, it was one of the drop clothes he bought for when he painted the house, keeping the paint off the new porch. Sy unfolded the drop cloth over the dirty hay and stall floor, making sure it was comfortable, then turned back to her.

“How gentlemanly.” Lily complimented him.

“I am a Southern boy.” Sy chuckled, letting his Southern drawl deepen, and wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her against him. “Who's in love with Southern Lady.”

Lily blushed as Sy kissed her again, hugging her against him and up off her feet, turning around and slowly dropped to his knees, gently laying her back on the situated drop cloth. Lily wrapped her arms around Sy's neck, moaning softly against his lips, feeling the fabric of her nightie rub against her cold hardened nipples as Sy moved to kiss down to her neck, sinking his teeth into her delicate skin and let out a loud moan, pushing up against him.

“Austin!” She cried out, pressing her cheek to his ear as he continued to bite and suck on her neck, his beard tickling and rubbing against the skin underneath her jaw, leaving it red and sensitive.

Sy chuckled, loving the sound of her calling out his name with the metal patter of rain, his hand gliding over the soaked material of her nightie, bunching and hiking it up out of his way, pressing his palm against her side, rubbing his big hands all over her exposed body, grunting and growling into her neck, like a wild grizzly bear, finally getting his claws on his prized catch. His big mitts were on her plump breasts almost instantly, squeezing and kneading them, rubbing the rough pads of his thumbs over the sensitive nubs of her nipples, making her moan and whimper, fidgeting beneath him and rubbing her legs together, adding to the growing slickness between them.

“You sound so sweet.” Sy moaned back, pulling away from her neck, a set of dark teeth marks left behind, dipping his head for a moment to swirl his tongue around one of her nipples.

“Sy.” She whined, gulping down a moan. “Sy, please.”

“Oh.” He smiled, impishly. “You like that?” He asked, flicking her erect nipple with the tip of his tongue and watched her partially melt. “Your sweet, sensitive, little buds.” He cooed, then closed his lips around one of them, suckling gently, rubbing and rolling his tongue against it.

“Ah, shit!” Lily gasped, gripping his shoulders, eyes rolling and fluttering back into her head, heels digging into the fabric of the drop cloth. “God damn it, Austin.” She snapped, pressing her palms to the back of his head, holding his mouth to her breasts, her moans and whimpers filled the barn, pushing against him, egging and begging him to keep going, her breathing growing rugged and labored, moans becoming more urgent and reckless.

“Ah, fuck fuck fuck.” She cried out. “Suck them harder.” She coaxed and demanded. “Oh shit! Please, Austin!!” She gasped suddenly, body going rigid with a soft tremor.

Sy pulled away from her and dripped a hand between her trembling thighs, finding an extremely wet patch there. “So, you come, when you get your pretty breasts sucked.” He grinned, fully turned on and impressed, licking her juices off his fingers and palm.

“I've also never heard you say such naughty words.” He added, teasingly.

Lily chuckled, slowly recovering and smiling shyly up at him.

“Oh, it's too late to get shy now, Angel.” Sy laughed, leaning down and kissed the corner of her mouth. “Your secret is out.” He continued to tease her, playfully bouncing her boobs in his palms.

“And, I'm not letting you off.”

“I'm going to regret this, I can just feel it now.” Lily huffed, shaking her head, but her smile gave away her true feelings.

“Yes, you are.”

Sy chuckled, his hand dipping back between her legs, rubbing her still dripping folds with his calloused fingers, melting her into a puddle of weak and vulnerable whimpers. “You're so sensitive and sound so sweet.” He cooed at her, licking his lips and watching her face. “So, so sweet.” He panted, mouth slightly ajar, slipping his free hand into his damp boxers, curling his fingers around his thick and rock hard shaft, giving it a few shallow strokes.

Lily's eyes drifted down the length of her sweaty body, watching Sy work his cock inside his underwear and felt herself shiver in want and anticipation of it. She licked her lips and looked up at him, their eyes in a silent communication of what they both wanted. Sy shifted, yanking off his boxers to kneel between Lily's legs, wrapping them around his waist, her hips and bottom resting atop his thighs, with the small of her back lifted off the drop cloth beneath her.

“You're sure?” Sy panted, gulping thickly and already breaking out into a sweat, staring at her with wide eyes and blown out pupils.

“Yes.” Lily sighed, nodding her head vigorously at him. “God, yes.” She moaned, squeezing her legs around his waist.

Sy smirked, pressed a hand to her hip, pushing it up her side to palm one of her breasts, squeezing and rubbing it, while taking the base of his cock in his other hand, pumping it a few times, rubbing the fat and cut tip against her still wet pussy, slowly slipping between her folds, brushing her entrance and pushing inside. Lily let out a moaning sigh through her nose, feeling his wide girth stretch her open far more than she had ever been before. Her toes curled and squeezed his hips between her calves and thighs, back arching and hips shifting against the nearly uncomfortable burn of his length being buried ever deeper inside her core. Sy tilted his head at her, bracing a hand on the drop cloth, beside her head, and leaned over her, causing Lily to let out a raspy gasp as his cock changed angles inside of her, and kissed her, slow and passionately, still pushing his hips into her.

“You are so beautiful.” He rasped against her lips, nibbling on her pouty bottom lip.

“Austin.” She whimpered back, breathy, hooking her arms under his arms and pressing her palms flat against tense and sweaty back, nails digging into his cool skin. “Austin.” She chanted, softly, rubbing her nose against his.

“Lily.” Sy moaned back, finally flush inside of her, and rocked into her, taking his time and enjoying her heavenly warmth wrapped around his cock, like a toasty sleeve. “I love you, Lily.” He whispered into her ear, kissing her jaw and cheek.

Lily blushed and let out an airy chuckle, hiding her face in his neck and broad shoulder, hugging her arms and legs tighter around his body, clinging onto him for dear life and squeezed her eyes shut, taking in the sound of Sy's heavy breathing and loud moans and groans, grunting, and sighing out her name, the still steady pitter-patter of the fat raindrops on the old, rusted tin roof and sun-kissed wood walls, all mixed with her own sounds of pleasure.

“Sy?” Lily whispered, after their shared climax, still feeling the euphoric and relaxing pleasure it gave both of them, as she laid on the drop cloth, half tucked underneath Sy's body for warmth in the drafty barn.

“Hm?” He hummed back, nosing her hair and took a deep breath.

Lily smiled, feeling the vibration in his chest, nuzzling back into him. “I love you too, Austin.” She whispered, turned her head to look back at him.

Sy lifted his head and looked down at her, a smile slowly pulling across his lips, an excited and giddy feeling in the pit of his stomach, reaching out to gently brush her hair out of her face, picking out a few bits of straw that happened to get stuck in it from earlier; before oh-so-tenderly kissing her.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me, Angel.” He murmured against her cheek.

“I'm guessing as happy as it makes me, Bear.” She chuckled back, kissing the tip of his nose.

Lily softly stirred just before dawn, cradled in Sy's arms as he carried her out of the barn, the rain finally letting up, and into the house. He carried her upstairs to her room and gently laid her down on her bed, letting him help her out of her still damp nightie and tossed it through the open door of her master bathroom, before crawling into bed with her.

Both of them were out cold before the blankets settled around them, unaware of the audience they had a good deal of the night.

[shorkbrian]

hnhuhuhuhuu

For some reason? I’m seeing them as like, staff at like a restaurant. Like Kiri’s a waiter, Bakugou’s a chef (ofc).

(No NSFW, they scare off a S/O, gender neutral reader)

So you go this nice restaurant with your family one night, y’know, family dinners and all. The waiter’s cheery, smile brighter than a field of sunflowers. The ambiance of the place is nice, the food is delicious, but really, it’s the service that makes you want to come back. 

The redheaded waiter is so quick, so attentive, refilling your glass of water as soon as you take a sip. He cracks jokes while your family decides what to eat (even when your dad goes through the e n t i r e menu and asks what each item tastes like) and somehow, his upbeat mood puts you in a happy mood yourself.

Your mom asks for the chef - apparently she’s so impressed with the food that she wants to thank him personally (she owns the bakery you work at, so it makes sense that she can recognize hard work and dedication to the art of making food).

A grumpy blond comes out, escorted by the redheaded waiter, and your entire family showers the two men in compliments about the food, the service, their looks. You gave your own two cents, telling the brusque chef that his food is exquisite, that he’s incredible; telling the bright waiter that he was amazing at his job, he made the dining experience ten times better.

The redhead blushes, cheeks going bright as his hair as he stammers his thanks, and the blond fixes you with the most intense stare you’ve ever felt in your life. It’s intimidating, but you just offer a friendly smile, and his eyes slide away.

The pair retreat back to their work stations, and your family finishes their food. Before you go, the redheaded waiter saunters up to the table with a smile, says the meal is free of charge. 

----

You go back to the restaurant a few times - often solo, occasionally with a member or two of your family. You always get the same waiter no matter where you sit, Kirishima, and you’re grateful - he’s such a fun, happy man.

After the first couple of times, the mean-looking chef, Bakugou, comes out to your table whenever you arrive. Apparently Kirishima tells him when you show up, and then the two men hover and ask what fancies your palate tonight, how your day was, anything fun happen since the last time you came? Bakugou always prods, asking gruffly what you thought of the dish he made for you last time, asks what you’re in the mood for, maybe something sweet? He’s intimidating, but whenever you compliment or praise him, the tips of his ears turn red.

It becomes a common occurrence for the two men to get yelled at by their coworkers, admonished for giving a customer such blatant special treatment. Bakugou yells back, disturbing the rest of the restaurant. Honestly, it’s embarrassing having the other customers give you nasty looks, as if you were the one forcing the two men to spend thirty-plus minutes catering to you. Kirishima is hardly ever less than an arm’s length away, and if you so much as cough, the big man is rubbing your back, making sure you aren’t choking. His eyes are always on you, even if he has to go serve someone across the room.

Soon, it becomes uncomfortable enough that your visits become less and less common. Each time, you get bombarded with prying questions - What’s keeping you so busy? You don’t like the dishes Bakugou’s making for you? Is one of the other customers bothering you? 

You try to keep your answers short - work’s been crazy, you love the food Bakugou makes, no Kiri, none of the customers are bothering you (unlike two very persistent employees).

They aren’t satisfied. Bakugou pushes for your number, and when you dodge the insistent man. Kirishima writes both his and Bakugou’s cell down on his order pad, tucks it into your purse with a smile.

Somehow they get your number.

Both of their numbers get blocked. 

You stop going to the restaurant.

---- 

When you get into a relationship, you’re so excited, and it’s been a while since you’ve gone to the restaurant, that you don’t even consider Bakugou and Kirishima when you take you S/O to the restaurant. 

You should’ve.

The lively, spirited Kirishima is sour, curt, short with you as he takes your order, glares at your date when they order, scoffs when they take a second to decide.

Bakugou comes out after your meal, doesn’t notice your date when he storms over to badger you about where you’ve been, why you blocked their numbers. Then he catches sight of the person sitting opposite you. He goes quiet. Kirishima comes up besides him, whispers something in his ear, and then both men are glaring daggers at your poor S/O, who’s noticeably uncomfortable.

You file a complaint with the restaurant manager. 

Your S/O quickly breaks it off with you the next day. Something about how they don’t think you mesh well together. You know that it’s probably because of the threatening way they were treated at the restaurant.

You storm over to the restaurant right before it closes, barely restrain slapping Kirishima in the face when he brightens at the sight of you, completely alone. You hiss that you’d like to talk to him and Bakugou, and Kirishima quickly agrees that the three of you need to talk, but they’re both working right now, so wait ten minutes until they close,’kay? Then they’re all yours.

Twelve minutes later sees you sitting down at a table across from Bakugou and Kirishima, both men watching you expectantly. You tell them off.

They’ve been harassing you, they ruined your relationship by being possessive and intimidating jerks to your S/O, they’ve crossed several boundaries.

You honestly wanted to just yell at them for a bit.

After you finish your tirade, both men are irritated. Eyebrows drawn low, Bakugou’s mouth twisted into the fiercest scowl you’ve ever seen; Kirishima leaning forward, tapping his fingers slowly across the tabletop, face pinched, angry.

You get up to leave, neither man stops you. 

Somehow, as you push open the heavy restaurant door, you feel like you’ve made a mistake.

When you wake up in a dark room, no memory of what you were doing, where you were, how you got here - you know you’ve made a mistake.

When a door opens, flooding light into the tiny, barren room, you realize you made the worst mistake of your life.

Bakugou and Kirishima, stalking towards you like two apex predators, are going to make that clear.

Yeah, Bakugou crouches down next to you, cocks his head, smiles; Kirishima circles behind you, puts a giant hand on your shoulder - you’re going to regret brushing them off.

[lalainajanes]

For klarosummer bingo, this completes my first row! The prompt was “swimsuit model.”

Fortune Favors

“Bekah, these are amazing,” Caroline gushes. She 100% means it, but she’s laying it on a little thick. She’s seen pictures, mock-ups, and was fitted with prototypes. Now, with the line entirely constructed, all the details finished, Caroline’s impressed.  

Rebekah, however, seems frazzled, her usual rock-solid confidence nowhere to be found. 

Totally understandable. It’s a big day for her.

Rebekah’s working on launching a swimwear line, is funding a big chunk of it herself. Caroline would have agreed to help out even if she didn’t owe Rebekah a favor. Caroline continues flipping through the garments until she finds the tag with her name on it.

She pulls the first hanger off the rack to look at the suit more closely. It’s a white one-piece with a deep-v neck, a belt slim black belt, and ruffled straps. Rebekah fidgets, “We’re styling this one with red lips and heels, a big hat. We’re going to try to shoot this one on the rocks.”

“Sounds good to me.” The shoot seems far more professional from the ones they’d managed to pull together for school projects. They’d done the best they could with the facilities available to students, but the house they’re using today is by far the nicest one Caroline’s ever been inside of. It backs onto a private beach which seems unnecessary considering the freaking gorgeous pool in the backyard. “Who’s the photographer?”

Rebekah grins, clearly pleased with herself. “I managed to convince my brother to donate his services.”

Well. Now Caroline’s nervous. “Your brother Klaus?” she asks, kind of hoping she’s wrong. Klaus Mikaelson is a big deal. He’s shot major covers, A-list celebrities, million-dollar international campaigns.

He’s used to models who know what they’re doing, and Caroline’s definitely an amateur.

“Yes, Klaus. I’ve forbidden Kol from coming within a five-mile radius. Can’t have him harassing the models. And Elijah’s been a gem, but his expertise lies more in negotiating with suppliers and nagging me to mind the expenses.”

Caroline takes a deep breath, tells herself it’ll be fine.

She studies her next look, a sleek black bikini and a sheer black robe covered in floral details. “Love the appliqués. Did you bead this yourself?”

“Till my fingers were bloody. But I think it’ll photograph well.”

Caroline hums in agreement. “Is this one on the beach too?”

“No, by the pool. Chaise lounge, martini glass, one of the male models in the background. Think rich divorcee seducing the help.”

Caroline hopes it’s a real martini. She might need it.

 She flips to the next hanger and has to bite back a distressed groan. Rebekah’s concept leans retro, so the yellow polka dot bikini in her hand is skimpier than Caroline had anticipated. 

“Probably should have skipped breakfast,” she mutters.

Rebekah scoffs, “None of that. You’ll look smashing in it. I have impeccable taste.”

Caroline’s distracted by male laughter, a new person slipping into the tent. “So you’ve insisted your whole life. I distinctly recall you sneaking into the family albums and burning most of the photographic evidence of the unfortunate style choices you made in years 7 through 9.”

Ordinarily, Caroline would exploit the opportunity to get a little dirt on Rebekah, but she’s annoyingly tongue-tied and intimidated. She’s pasted on a polite smile, more out of habit than anything. 

She may have google stalked Rebekah once upon a time, way back when they’d been rivals at school. And if during Caroline’s research, she’d read several articles and poured over dozens of pictures of Rebekah’s very talented and successful fashion photographer brother, that was her business.

Know thy enemy and all that, she couldn’t have known that rivalry would shift to friendly competition, then to actual friendship. 

She’d noted he was attractive, of course, as anyone with eyes and sense would have. Most people don’t manage to live up to photos taken by professionals.

Klaus Mikaelson does, and it’s not helping her insecurities.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Nik.”

He walks further in, offering Caroline his hand. “You must be Caroline. It’s lovely to meet you. I’m Klaus Mikaelson.

She swallows, is relieved when her voice sounds normal. “You too. I’m excited for today. I love your work.”

He nods, appearing pleased. “It’s been ages since I’ve done this kind of shoot, but you must know how Rebekah can be. Wouldn’t stop haranguing me until I agreed.”

Rebekah glares, piqued, and Caroline presses her lips together to hold in a laugh that threatens, knowing it would not be appreciated. “I can’t blame her for doing what needed to be done to ensure the desired outcome. It’s only good business.”

Rebekah nods firmly, “Exactly. Thank you, Caroline. At least someone here appreciates me.” She picks up the last hanger that had been in Caroline’s section and hands it over. “This one’s first since the set-up is the simplest. Bonnie should arrive while you’re shooting. We’ll do her first look while you go back into beauty, then rotate throughout the day. Put this on. I’ll send hair in first.”

She knocks into Klaus’ shoulder when she leaves, hard enough to have him swaying. “That’s why you’re not allowed in my house!” he calls to her retreating form. “Just had the floor redone,” he tells Caroline. “Can’t have her stomping all over them if she has a tantrum.”

“She’s stressed. You might want to be nicer.” Caroline regrets the words immediately, glances away under the pretense of studying the bikini in her hand. He’s donating his time and apparently his house. Their family squabbles really aren’t her business.

But Klaus isn’t offended, “Perhaps you have a point, though Rebekah’s never more productive than she is when she’s angry. Failure’s not an option when she’s fueled by spite.”

Hmm. Caroline has similar ideals. Maybe that’s why she and Rebekah came to understand each other.

She realizes she’s been twisting the bikini top’s strap, hurriedly straightens it out. “I feel like I should warn you, my modeling experience is limited to pitching in with other student’s shoots at school. So, I’m far from a professional.”

He shrugs. “You have nothing to be worried about.”

That startles a laugh from her. “You only say that because you don’t know me. I am a world-class worrier.”

He takes the suit away from her, setting it aside. His knees bend, until their eyes are level. “Caroline. You’re beautiful. Rebekah’s created lovely things. I’m very good at my job. I have every confidence the final product will be spectacular, and I’ll be able to enjoy reminding Rebekah that she owes me a favor down the line.”

Caroline blinks at him in surprise, some of her nerves having drifted away when faced with his absolute and unwavering confidence. “That’s… actually very reassuring.”

“Was it? I confess that’s not a strength of mine.”

She’s not sure if he’s joking or not, but she picks up her first outfit again. It’s another bikini, a tropical print on a pink background with a halter top and a high waisted bottom. “I should change,” she says. “Something tells me Rebekah won’t appreciate it if we fall behind schedule.”

Klaus nods, rocking back a step. “Of course. I just wanted to introduce myself. Please feel free to let me know if you need or want anything at all.”

She thanks him again, and he lets himself out of the tent. 

Caroline takes one more deep breath and then ducks behind the screen in the corner and strips out of her sundress.

Once she’s dressed in Rebekah’s design, she begins to feel like everything might just go okay. The suit fits like a dream, propping up her breasts and perfectly hugging the curve of her hips. By the time hair and makeup work their magic, leaving her curls full and her lips slicked bubblegum pink, she feels freaking fantastic.

When she steps out onto the set, Klaus’ eyes widen when he spots her, lingering in a way that’s slightly unprofessional but not at all unwelcome.

He walks over, paying not the slightest bit of attention to anyone on the crew, even when an assistant tries to wave him over. Klaus offers his arm to help steady her as she steps into the matching pink pumps, leans in close, and tells her she looks incredible, his lips brushing her ear and sending a pleasant shiver down her spine.

She might be in trouble.

Will Rebekah kill Caroline if she flirts with Klaus? Probably.

Caroline thinks she’s willing to risk it.

[sadachmesarthim]

yes this is a rewrite, feel free to fry my ass on anon about it.

content: starker being mean to each other, peter parker has Supportive Friends™, tony has daddy and mommy issues, quentin beck is a Mean Boss™, smoking, secondhand smoke.

word count: 3.0k

square filled: coffee shop au  -> link to playlist here

part two is here!

a little vocab lesson before continuing: mobster = really high up in the chain of command for this group of coffee shops. they go around training new hirees, and often decide who gets to move up the line of command. they get to travel on company money, and are very well respected in the workplace. mobsters usually come in groups - siblings, hires from the same groups, etc. 

Tony didn't like Richland.

Sure, okay, it was a serious step up from Federal Way. He was free from his parents, he could do whatever he wanted in a house all to himself, no one knew who he was - it was a refreshing change, one he definitely needed now that he was graduated, all grown up.

He'd moved back east about two months ago. He'd wanted to get as far away from home as possible, stretch his legs - he went under the guise of missing his grandma, wanting to go to school. He wasn't a terrible liar, either. Howard and Maria'd eaten it up, encouraging him to go as soon as he could.

"If you go now, you could get there in time for summer classes. Maybe even get a job before they stop hiring seasonally. You never know, but you might as well try!"

So here he was. Still jobless, still not yet enrolled in school. Enjoying his time in the (now autumn) sunshine, biding his time before he ran out of money. He'd planned well - he had enough cash to keep him covered for a while, as long as he didn't go blowing it.

He'd blown it.

He was a sucker for good coffee, though, and he missed Outback. He'd worked at one back home for almost a year before he left, and now... now, it was like an itch he couldn't scratch - he needed the interaction, needed to go make friends. He was too much of a social butterfly.

Yet again, he found himself in his truck, on the way to the nearest stand. He was pathetic, really. Here he was, wasting more money on coffee, when he could be out hiking or climbing or... literally doing anything else.

He knew it was worth it the second he pulled in. The cutest kid was running lines that day - shorts hugging his tight ass deliciously, in a way Tony knew his operator would get in trouble for if a Mobster or Coach saw.  Christ, they lettin' just anyone work here now, that it?

He had to keep his thoughts to himself, though - the kid had just finished the cars in front of him, and was headed straight for Tony, iPad in hand. He took a breath, putting on his best poker face. He needed a fucking cigarette.

"Hey handsome! Welcome to Outback, what're we drinkin' today?" Shit, he's cute. All bright and cheery - it might be fake, sure, customer service voice and all - but boy, did he play the part well. All big eyes and wide smile. He looked up at Tony expectantly, right hand hovering over the screen of the runner iPad. Shit, he still has to order something.

"Hi, just a small iced white vanilla breve please." Tony watched as the kid pressed a few spaces on the tablet, shocked at how fluidly he moved. Tony'd never seen him at this location before, but he obviously knew what he was doing. Location transfer, maybe? Mobster? He wasn't sure.

"Perfect! I've got you in - anything else, love?" God, he was too much. There's no way this was just the sickly facade Outback enforced - no, this was all him. "Nah, I'm okay. I'm paying card today, too." He reached his hand out for the tablet, wanting to tip this kid specifically.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, this card reader's broken. The one up at the window's working though! My girl Maia'll be up there waiting for you!" He turned with a smile, skipping off to the next car.

Jesus, who was this kid? And what did Tony have to do to see him again?

•|||•

Return an application, apparently.

Maia, the girl at the window, had let him know that they were hiring. He didn't have to feign interest - he had relevant experience, could work his way up if he needed to - and he'd get to see the mystery boy again. She'd ran and grabbed a small stack of papers for him, which he dutifully filled out and brought back a couple of hours later.

The closing shift lead had briefly interviewed him, practically giving him the job on the spot. Apparently she'd met his sister on a Mob trip, before - it paid to have connections, but damn... someone in town already knew who he was. Oh well. Not a big deal. These were still new people, fresh faces - he could make a clean reputation for himself, a fresh start...

It was exactly what he needed. And if he needed to use a bit of his influence with his sister to get it... so be it.

•|||•

"Emma, please, just... don't be a dick when he calls you. I need this job, it'll be good for m-"

"Save it, Tony. I don't want your excuses. If I say I'll do it, will you leave me alone?" She was being unusually short with him. Fuck. She and Rhodey were fighting again.

"Yes, yes, anything. Thank you so much." He was met with a bored sigh.

"Whatever, dude. I'll put in a good word. Talk to you later." She hung up before he could say anything else. Whatever - it wasn't the worst conversation he'd had with his sister, but it left a lot to be desired.

They hadn't been doing well since she & Rhodey got together. It was on-again-off-again... and they were honestly both to blame. Neither one of them was good at commitment, and it showed.

It put strain on both of their relationships with Tony, and didn't do much to help keep him in Federal Way. He sought comfort in the isolation of a new town, but it didn't seem to be helping anything.

Leaving never did, but it was really all he knew how to do.

•|||•

Peter hadn’t been at Outback long, but he’d enjoyed every minute of it.

He’d gotten hired almost immediately after graduation, not wanting to waste a second of his summer not making money. It was a bit of a difficult transition - he wasn’t a big fan of Beck, his boss, and training was really overwhelming. But after he’d hit that twelve week mark... it’s like something just clicked.

He was a whiz on bar, he was making friends right and left. He and Maia’d even gone to get tattoos together a couple weeks ago during a flash sale. He was getting faster and faster at running cars, he knew almost all of his regular customers. He genuinely felt like part of the family.

That didn’t really change when Beck hired a new group, either. There weren’t too many of them, helping keep their group small. They’d been spending a bit of time in the stand here and there, going over the rules, the ins and outs of making coffee, taking their menu test.

The three he was introducing today seemed okay enough. He just barely caught the tail end of Beck's “congrats on becoming a full employee” monologue before the man set the fresh meat loose. Not that they could really go far - it was maybe a good spit's distance from corner to corner. But, if it helped them get their bearings...

He was pulled from his thoughts before they could take off too far. “Hey, Parker! Come say hi to the green beans!”

•|||•

The red haired girl was nice enough. They'd introduced themselves, exchanged snap usernames, gushed over Peter's tattoos, and bonded over the typical new job anxiety. He'd forged a sweet new friendship with Bri, and was hopeful she'd stick around. He'd seen people like her get chewed up and spit out in this industry, and he liked her.

The tall guy... was pretty boring, actually. He stayed on his phone for the majority of the introduction, opting to ignore Peter entirely. It was fine - he'd probably be gone by the end of the month. Not like they’d miss him - he barely passed his menu test, from what Peter’d overheard.

Then came Mr. Short, Dark, and Brooding - Tony, apparently - Peter remembered him from a few weeks ago. He’d given Peter a poorly concealed once-over, tried to take the runner iPad from right out of his hands... if he wasn’t so attractive, Peter’d pin him for a fuckboy.

Despite how much he looked like he’d wanted to back then, when given the opportunity, he didn’t really engage with Peter. He apparently wasn’t the type to keep eye contact, go in for a hug, make small talk. 0 for 2. Disappointing. Oh well. That’s fine - Peter was perfectly content as the only guy at this location (sans Beck, of couse). Too much testosterone didn’t foster a healthy working environment, and they all knew it.

The girls, especially. They all gushed over Peter - apparently being the token gay guy in the stand somehow made him exempt from the targetted harassment. Nearly every guy they’d hired had left within 9 months - coffee was definitely a female-dominated field.

Peter was excited to see how these two fared.

•|||•

The tall guy was gone within a week. Didn’t even leave notice, just up and stopped showing up to his shifts. Not that it was the end of the world - he was still in his probationary period, so he wasn’t even making tips. No sweat off Peter’s back.

Bri did really well, in comparison. Beck was unusually strict with her - lashing out during her initial first shifts, generally being a hardass. It was unnecessary, and everyone knew it - Peter often found himself having fridge or bathroom meetings with her to help calm her down. But she kept showing up, kept trying, and after a few weeks she was doing just as well as Peter and the rest of them.

Tony was even better. Peter’d heard through the grapevine that he’d worked at a different location when he was still in school. Why he had to go through training again was lost on Peter - Beck tended to be thorough when it came to these kinds of things, but Tony was arguably more experienced than some of Peter’s coworkers...

Apparently, it’s because he wasn’t one to play nice.

•|||•

It took them quite a while to work together. Peter’d found himself getting the shit end of the schedule, working 7-1s religiously. It was by far his least favorite shift - dealing with the morning and lunch rushes were nothing, if not exhausting. But he pushed through, and finally got a say in what he worked - a very comfortable 5 - close.

Tony seemed to fill the between-shift gap - 2-8 was his jam. He liked working later, but still getting home before dark. Apparently being a newbie meant drawing the short straw sometimes -

And the short straw just so happened to be barring with the twink from a few weeks ago.

He hadn’t been... avoiding him. Tony just... didn’t like the way he worked. Peter was flighty, always moving. It irked him... he was just so much, it made Tony’s head hurt. If he wasn’t so engaging he might actually piss Tony off - but he knew the kid had nothing but good intentions, and that made it bearable.

It didn’t translate to the bar, though.

It seemed nearly impossible for them to work well together. Tony’d been assigned the milk station for the last three hours of his shift - a long stretch, but nothing he hadn’t done before. Peter was on shots almost the entire time. Poor kid.

Tony’s sympathy ran dry when they actually began working. They were almost always on top of each other - Peter crowding his space and trying to do too much. It grated on Tony’s every nerve, made it difficult to function. Peter didn’t seem to notice at all - or if he did, he didn’t care.

It came to a head when Peter went for the fridge. 

It was a pretty well-known rule that the person on shots doesn’t reach for the fridge. Not only was it too far away from their position on machine, it requires them to go behind their bar partner, which is dangerous in a shop this small. Hot liquids, ice, sugar... they can cause spills, burns, falls... 

So of course this dumbass goes for the fridge. Opens the door. Grabs a can of cold brew with his bare hands before turning back around. 

And running into Tony face first. 

This would have been fine if it were literally anything other than a cold brew. This would have been fine if Tony wasn’t holding a fresh drink! But no - the universe lined things up just right, laid out the most well-planned disaster. 

As they made contact, Peter’s hands flew up in shock, dropping the very pressurized can. It exploded as it hit the concrete, spraying nitrogen and foam-y coffee all over them. This caused Tony to let go of the drink in his hand, coating both of their lower halves in hot, sticky milk. 

It was picturesque, the mess they made. 

Tony looked up at Peter in absolute shock. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! Why were you in the fridge?!” 

“I was just trying to help! You were busy, I figured I could-” Tony cut him off before he filled the stand with more hot air. Not in the mood for his bullshit excuses. 

“I don’t care how busy you think I am - you ask before doing something outside of your station. Do you understand me?” The look in his eye was one Peter’d never seen before - it probably should have scared him, but frankly, it just made him angrier. 

“Who do you think you are to be giving me orders?” He was huffy, he could feel his cheeks burning red. He was an angry crier, and knew he was struggling to control his face. 

“My sister’s a Mobster. I think I know what I’m doing.” Oh. That explained it - his experience, his proficiency on bar... why he was such a dick. Peter’d never met a Mobster he liked, and if this guy was related to one... shit just made sense. 

•|||•

He spent the remaining few hours of Tony’s shift hiding in the back. They were better off separated, and neither complained. Tony could handle himself up front, and Peter was productive enough. He had chores to do, dishes to finish, the closing list to start... Getting an early start benefitted everyone. 

By the time 8 rolled around, the atmosphere in the stand had relaxed. They’d both had a chance to clean up, the girls on window had helped ease the tension with casual conversation. Bri had been running, and Peter spent plenty of time in the back with her, hushed enough to avoid the ears a few feet away. 

“I don’t see why he gets to walk all over us. You’ve been here longer, and the attitude isn’t necessary.” She was sitting on the edge of the sink, goldfish making their way to her mouth between words. “You know I don’t like him. I don’t see why you keep trying to be nice.”

Peter sighed. He knew she was right. “I just... I don’t want anyone here to feel left out, or like I did at the beginning. Beck can be mean... I want all of you to feel welcome.” It wasn’t a lie, either - he’d made a point to make everyone feel at home, to make this stand a family. Until Tony showed up, he’d been doing a great job. 

“I know buttercup. Just... don’t go bending over backward for someone that won’t even look you in the eye.” With that she hopped down, ready to clock out. 

Tony shuffled past them both, excited to do the same. Maia’d taken over the bar for him, alleviating him just before the four minute window was up. He didn’t even excuse himself, just inserting himself in their personal space without concern. 

Bri shot Peter a look before she left. Talk to him! 

He opted for bravery. He deserved an apology for Tony’s harsh words earlier today, and he was going to get it. 

He checked the cameras before walking back, making sure Maia wasn’t gonna wind up swamped if this took longer than necessary. Tony was collecting his things - he had to do this fast. 

“Hey, listen.” Tony looked up, unamused. “I know we didn’t exactly have a good shift, and yeah I’m partly to blame for that... but Beck doesn’t really vibe with hostility, and the girls...” 

Tony cut him off halfway through. “What, it makes them uncomfortable? They don’t like it when a man takes charge, has a little outburst? Sheesh, y’all really are a mess.” What the fuck?

“Okay, seriously. I tried to be nice. You owe me, and the rest of us, a serious apology for today, or I’m going to Quentin about it. It’s not that hard to say you’re sorry, Tony.” Good job Parker, firm boundaries. 

“I’m sorry? Sorry for what, doing my job? Fuck that, man. I’m out of here.” He opened the door and left, skipping past an oncoming car and heading toward his own. 

Peter followed him. It was stupid, sure - but he needed to assert himself here. This was his stand, his home - and he was damned if he was going to let some... some asshole trample all over his home like this.

He caught up to Tony quickly, stopping him before he could open the driver’s door. “Why are you such an asshole? The girls are obsessed with you, you clearly have a leg up against everyone else in your group. There’s no reason for you to be acting like this, dude. You’ve been here all of what, a month?” 

Tony took a long drag from his cigarette before answering. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Now be a good little closer, and run inside. Finish your shift.” He exhaled the smoke into Peter’s face, getting into his car and driving away without another word. 

What a douchebag. 

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Twenty | Ooo I Ooo I Ooo I Ooo I (Part 2 of 2 | His POV) [First] | [Previous] | [Next]

Song Referenced

• • •

did he give you an exact date?

Unfortunately, no.

At first, I had at least until the end of the year, but…

CPS wants this resolved quicker than he thought.

guessin' you need to finish tourin' the underground first then, right?

Yes.

Would it be possible the day after tomorrow?

Or just… sometime this weekend?

I can go by myself, but…

Asgore won't allow that unless I'm with someone else.

Says I shouldn't be walking so far and so long alone if I haven't recovered yet.

you don't need to go alone, either way.

be it my job or not, I still wanna help out.

so the day after tomorrow's fine with me, bud.

we can discuss those details better when we drive over to tori's school tomorrow.

Are you sure?

And…

Does that 'we' imply you'll be picking us up?

100%

but yeah, i'll drive you guys there.

and pick up paps on the way, too.

it's easier for all four of us.

Mhm.

don't believe me?

Oh, I believe you.

I just don't think that's the only reason why you're picking us up, when I already have the address.

so what's the other one?

Don't get cocky, Serif.

I'm not gonna type that out.

It's a godsend Frisk will be with us, too.

'Cause I sure don't trust being alone with you anymore.

inna bad way?

Nah.

niiice.

pick you guys up tomorrow, then?

Yes.

We'll see you tomorrow.

And thank you in advance.

∆ Sticker | Happy Cartoon Bunny™ waving goodbye ∆

"You've changed, Sans."

He ignores that comment to view (Y/N)'s last two messages again.

While he doesn't know why that particular sticker bothers his mind so much, a few scrolls up to revise his chat history with the human reveal this is the first time they've shown any sort of informality or spontaneity in their typing. (Y/N) came off cold in their texts, though -- based on how they acted outside of a chat app -- that wasn't their intention, but more of an automatic way for them to talk with someone they didn't exactly deem trustworthy enough yet. He grins at that thought and feels his face warm up, something he confirms when touching his cheekbone, cold palm contrasting with that heat.

"You're wasting your time with that human," Drunk Bun says, snapping him out of his daydreaming.

They've sat themselves on the bar stool next to him and slam what looks like their tenth can of cheap, off-brand beer against the counter, crunching it down into more than half its size. He doesn't know how long they've stood there or why he's lost this much awareness of his surroundings. The bar's practically empty and calm now compared to before, though there's loud music blaring from the jukebox, playing an already overplayed song on repeat. There's no excuse for his distracted mind other than having lost himself while texting with the human, so he admits that fault with partial sourness, against accepting he's that smitten with them.

"You're changing for the worse," his company adds, narrowing their eyes at him. "Every time we come here to catch up, you mention something stupid about that (L/N) person, or just text the whole evening away with them. I... I've never seen you worry so much about someone so inconsequential." They scoff and cross their arms tight. "I may understand you caring after Frisk as a way to repay them for rescuing us, but (L/N) is completely useless. They've done absolutely nothing remarkable beyond creating a huge scene at that bus you were both on."

"Being harassed by a rando and faintin' after's them causin' a scene?" Sans asks, quirking an eye socket.

"Oh, screw off, bone boy -- You know what I mean. They've brought you nothing but trouble and needless responsibilities!" The bunny grits their teeth and slams their hand over the table, dragging eyes to their side. "I'm betting you can't go a day without texting them or without you doing something for them."

"You need to-"

Beep-beep.

The phone is snatched from his hands just as quick as that noise rings.

"Give that back."

"No." They keep the phone right above him, taking advantage of his shorter height. "Your fault for not putting a lock on it."

Drunk Bun scoots away and holds the phone tight as they fumble with it. Then, they stop to look at what he assumes is another text message from the human. A grimace shows on their face and they grasp the device tight, enough to make the screen complain and warn them over the pressure they're exerting against it. "Now this is beyond pathetic, Sans," they comment, letting out a loud, burst laugh. "Is this seriously the one you're sacrificing your entire personality for?" They give him his phone back, though not before hesitating when it's time to let go. "That human is-"

"Gimme a sec."

His attention falls on the picture displayed on screen, revealing (Y/N) and Frisk posing in it. The adult wears a suit and tie while the child has Toriel's school uniform on. The former's pose appears forced and awkward while the latter seems to be the reason the picture was taken with how excited they seem about their outfit.

Frisk wanted me to show you this.

It's what we'll be wearing for tomorrow!

There's a three-minute interval between that and the next message.

I know classes still haven't started there, but… They wanted to wear it, so I joined them by trying on something special for, well…

That job offer you told me about.

I don't know if I'll accept or not yet, but…

Thank you for the opportunity, and for believing in me.

∆ Sticker | Happy Cartoon Bunny™ giving a thumbs-up ∆

"You're grossing me out, honestly. What kind of look is that?"

It takes him a while to react, focus glued on (Y/N)'s messages.

"What look?"

"That lovesick look on your face." Tears form on their eyes -- almost abruptly, hadn't their voice shaken right before that. "I- I've been flirting with you for years, and yet you've never once looked at me like that before." They stand up straight, stare down at him, and rest their hands on the table, blinking their tears away throughout. "I've known you for so damn long, and yet you fall for the first human you see up here? I-"

"So that's what this's about," he says, chuckling. "You're-"

"Don't you dare brush everything off as me having a crush on you, Sans." They hiss. "You're not the same as before, and that's as clear as day. You worry a lot more now, and… And you actually seem to care more about other stuff beyond your job and sleeping on it. Y- You-"

"Aren't those good things?"

"Maybe, but your entire personality changing isn't. I liked you better when you were less worked up with stuff that's none of your business." They stop to grab his phone again; a grin breaks the sorrow on their face. "But hey, y- you're just doing your job, aren't you? You should set things straight with that human and remind them you're only with them because Asgore told you to in that agreement letter you gave them."

"Won't work if I flirted with 'em first. Pretty sure they'll see right through my lies."

"Y- You flirted with them first?!"

"Yeah."

He dodges a punch aimed right at his face.

"Wait-"

They throw a second punch -- this one turning out to be a spoof -- and laugh at the sight of him falling for it; they then toss the phone high over his head after he's finished dodging that fake attack, and aim yet another punch right after.

He salvages the device, though at the cost of taking the blow right on his left eye socket.

"How can you admit that so easily? You're awful!"

"'Cause you're only a close friend. I don't owe you an explanation about who I'm dating, and even less if you're gonna be actin' this way."

Drunk Bun springs at him, only to be held back by the rest of the regulars sitting near the scene, sufficiently fast enough for them not to wrangle Sans in anything major. They struggle and thrash at everyone around, trying to break free, but failing each time. It takes a fully-armored guard dog and a buff bear for them to be fought back into their rightful place, and yet another strong monster for them to let go of a wine bottle they insist on downing when seated.

Grillby intervenes as well by warning them to calm down, unless they want to be kicked out. Meanwhile, Sans turns on the camera and looks at his reflection through it, revealing a faint soreness already forming around his eye socket -- right where his companion had punched at. Being primarily made out of bones brought advantages, but having magical properties often led to him bruising easily.

Another regular approaches him and offers him a first aid kit, one he brings back to his seat to heal himself there.

While he takes out an antibiotic and some cotton pads with one hand, he uses the other to busy himself with (L/N)'s messages, against leaving them on read for so long.

no probs.

here at your service.

frisk looks great, btw.

and you? hot. 😘🔥

awkwardly hot.

hotwkward.

Frisk is reading the replies, you know?

damn.

i mean…

darn.

don't tell 'em i said that.

∆ Audio | 0:46 ∆

He clicks on it to hear Frisk giggling along with (Y/N) commenting they won't. It later continues with them asking if he's alright, specifying what they mean by highlighting a picture, this one sent by him. Blurriness makes up most of it when he clicks on it and zooms in, yet he can identify what looks like his companion from earlier, who'd apparently snapped and sent the human a photo by accident.

that's a friend o' mine.

they're, uh, kinda tipsy, so they got inna fight with me.

Really?

Are you okay?

yeah, just a lil' sore where they punched at.

What?!

i'm fine, puddin'.

dw about it.

Where's that bar at?

I'm near the mall, so I can drop by if you need anything.

aren't you still shoppin'?

take it easy.

I'm almost done.

Just trying out one more outfit.

can I see?

👀

Sure.

∆ Attachment | 2 images ∆

To his surprise, they're not only posing much more freely now, but they've also made the effort to strike another pose from a different angle. The human's outfit is composed of a dark green, semi-formal (suit/dress), fit for a night out. They've gone as far as to edit a wink emoji and some hearts at the corner of one -- the most flirty of the two.

So...

What do you think?

*jaw drops to floor, irises pop out of sockets accompanied by trumpets, soul beats out of rib cage, awooga awooga sound effect, pulls chain on train whistle that has appeared next to head as steam blows out, slams fists on table, rattling any plates, bowls or silverware, whistles loudly, fireworks shoot from top of head, pants loudly as tongue hangs out of teeth, wipes comically large bead of sweat from forehead, clears throat, straightens jacket, combs skull* ahem, you look real lovely.

*bwushes* Thank uwu kindwy, handswome. I'm vewy fwattewed.

...frisk ain't there anymore, right?

If they wewe, duwu uwu twhink I'd be twyping wike thiws?

faiw poiwnt.

Anyway…

I noticed the changes you made in that copy-paste, and…

You didn't edit the tongue part out.

So…

What that tongue do, baby?

😳

…lick…

...ice cream.

🔥🔥🔥

Ah, that's hot.

Or should I say cold?

And speaking of cold…

I'm gonna get you an ice pack or something.

You should take care of where it's sore, if you don't want it to bruise more.

whatta way to change the subject away from our moment, puddin'.

but uh, thanks in advance.

Anytime, teddy bear.

uwu

owo

• • •

"Am I really changin', Grillbs?" Sans asks, emptying his beer in three long gulps. "Be honest with me."

The one questioned takes the empty can from his hands and shakes his head in what looks more like disapproval rather than him answering that question. He first warns the skeleton about getting drunk, and reminds him to stay sober if he wants an answer as well as prevent himself from drunk-texting the source of his lovelorn self. When receiving a promise from him in response, he later answers with a 'no' and that he's still the same whenever he came to visit the bar.

"So I'm only different when I'm talkin' about 'em?"

Grillby nods.

"Inna bad way?"

He shakes his head.

"Then…"

Sans is stopped with a hand over his and faced with a stern look, despite the owner of it having no eyes or mouth.

"If they make you happy, then it's alright for you to show it," a regular states, intervening in the conversation. "You're not a lifeless machine. And nobody's one-dimensional either, so you shouldn't force yourself to act the same, strict way all the time. If you want to be all mushy with that human, then so be it. Aren't you the one who always says stuff like 'nothing really matters; in the end, we'll all die'? What's stopping you now of all times? Where's that hardcore nihilist I've known since years ago?

Sans rubs the back of his neck and huffs.

Clearly, neither the regular nor Grillby understood what he truly meant to say with his questions. He didn't mind his relationship with the human, but he also didn't want his old self to be replaced by someone he wasn't, as a result. There were things he didn't want to change about his old self -- things he feared would fade away now that he seemed to be getting into something as complex as a romantic relationship. There were parts of him he needed to keep in case the world were to start over again -- in case something went wrong. He couldn't allow himself to grow soft.

A pat on his shoulder lets him know he's lost himself in those thoughts.

"It's alright to fear change, but don't let that hold you back. If you like that human and they do, too -- Then what's there keeping you from going for it?"

It's not that easy.

Still, he keeps that thought quiet and replies with, "Thanks, but I'll probably have to give that more ti-"

The door of the bar opens to reveal someone new to it, but not so much unknown to Sans, who already finds himself distracted by them. (Y/N) stands in front of the entrance, looking this way and that. Frisk holds on to their hand, while a reusable shopping bag's hung over their parent's arm; a pharmacy's logo and name can be seen stamped on it. The eldest human approaches the area with caution, until their child assures them -- once, twice, and then thrice -- they've been to this place before and that it serves other purposes beyond that of providing alcohol and provoking fights. When they look forward, he meets their eyes and tries to glance away quickly, only to be called out by them soon after. They don't take long to smile wide and bright, wave, and -- finally -- approach his side after he waves back at them.

Rather than giving him whatever's in the bag, they instead let go of Frisk's hand, ask them if they want anything to eat, and give them some money when they sign the word 'fries'. Then, they sit on the stool next to his and settle the bag on their lap. "Come closer, and close your eye sockets," they say, still smiling. "It's your left one, right? It looks really sore already."

He nods and tries to ignore the warmth in his soul when they place a hand over his.

In his favour, they let go of him not long after to disinfect their hands and slip some gloves on when these dry out.

"I-"

"Shh."

(Y/N) holds his chin with their hand and grazes their fingers against his injury, their touch slow and careful as they apply some antibiotic over and around it. They then slide an eye patch on him and assumedly check around for any more bruises, based on the feeling of their hands grazing against his torso, arms, and neck. "The ice pack's in the bag -- Remember to throw it in the freezer when you get home." They touch his chest again, even more gentle this time. "So..." He notices some hesitance when they pull their hand back. "You're not hurt anywhere else?"

He shakes his head, words caught in his throat.

"Alright, but don't look yet."

Doing as told, Sans waits for whatever comes next. He stays still and stiff, until he feels their lips brush close to his eye socket, where they lay a soft, ticklish kiss at. They do the same with his other one and finish it off by kissing his nose cavity.

"Now you can."

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

...

......

🌋🔥💥 ANNOYING NOTICE TIME 💥🔥🌋

So, here's a summary of all the events happening this month, which will affect Fairytale Complex's update schedule in various ways:

1. I will be rewriting all my other fics that aren't FaiCom, since I'm pretty darn happy and proud of the new writing style I've developed with this fanfic, and so I want to implement it into my older stories (with the exception of the Tom Nook x Reader one -- I'm rewriting that one despite being recent because it started off as a wild, 3 am energy project after finishing with finals, but then I actually had way more fun than I originally anticipated, so I'll be turning it into a long fic just like this one, lol). This means FaiCom will be taking a short, 1 to 2 week break after Arc 2 (Chapter 25) ends, to dedicate some time to all 4 of these stories.

2. I'm taking extracurricular classes/hobby workshops this summer, so I need to tweak my schedule again. This means FaiCom will be changing its schedule back to the old one, composed of weekly updates on Mondays, Wednesdays, and/or Fridays.

3. As mentioned previously, Pride Month is here, so I'll be making some one-shots and drabbles related to it, meaning updates might be slightly less frequent this month. BUT, a good majority of them are FaiCom related ones (and they will be posted on a different book to avoid conflicting with regular updates, too). More on that later on!

• • •

Tag List (Comment or message me if you want to be added to [or removed from] it!)

@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

@disastrous-l0vebug

@therealchickenjoe

@mintyflakes025

@pandaquick

@timelock97

@candle-creeps

@paperb9gs

@merak0

[hoodassnerd]

Butterflies

Genre: Erik x oc

Words: a lot (I’m so sorry)

Summary: Joanna is a thug at heart but maybe not all the way through

BEEP BEEP BEEP be-

Erik shut off the alarm and look at the girl in his bed.

‘Seven? Sheela? Something with a s? I don’t fuckin know, she gotta get the fuck up tho’

Erik poked her in the back “Aye shawty, you gotta get up. “ she grunted and readjusted to get comfortable. Erik sighs, “AYO!” He shouted. She jumped up from her spot “What! It’s mad early!” “Exactly, that why you need to getcho ass up. I gotta work and I don’t know you like that so you gotta step” he said getting out of the bed.

She looked at him disappointed “Damn you really just gon kick me out like that?” She asked him. “Yea. Bye Keisha.” Erik walked into the bathroom closing the door. “MY NAME IS TIFFANY!” “Whatever the fuck it is, you gotta go” he said. Erik turned on the water ignoring whatever she was yelling at him and got in the shower so he could start his day.

Around 2:37 pm Joanna Brown woke up from her damn good dream about cheesecake and Captain America. “Shit!” She said as she finished her stretched. A good stretch. The one that makes you shake. “I should have called off today. I hate having to use my customer service voice to all them ugly ass men.” She said to herself. Jo worked at footlocker at the front register. She only kept the job because she was a sneaker head. Jo was very self conscious about her body but the men at her job didn’t give a damn about her feelings because her was shaped like the number 8. Even thought she had many customer complaints, they weren’t gonna fire her. She was the reason for half of their customers.

Jo turned on her music phone and connected it to her tv. “Rob the jewelry sto’ tell ‘em make me a grill”. Joanna milly rocked her way into the bathroom and started her showers he tied up her silver bundles and got in the water.

About 30 seconds later her primary phone rang. She looked at the screen and saw Erik’s name and the ugliest scared face you’ve ever seen. Tapping the screen she picked up the phone and started singing the song. “Got 30 down at the bottom 30 mo’ at the top, all invisible set with little ice cube blocks. If I could call it a dri-“ “I didn’t call you to hear yo fine ass sing nelly in my face” Erik said into the phone. Jo looked offended “So why dafuq did you call me?” “I called you to see if y’all got the new 11’s that just came out.” Jo looked into the phone “nigga I just got in the shower! I don’t even know if the sun is still yellow yet! And stop calling me pretty, you know I don’t like you”

Ever since they were in high school, Erik was sweet on Jo. She transferred from New York during their sophomore year. They eventually became friends after she fist fought the quarterback because he wouldn’t leave her alone. Even though they didn’t have any classes together he would always make sure that he saw her when she was at school. Erik liked Jo and was determined to get her to like him back. He would always compliment her and try to make her feel good about her self but Jo didn’t see it like that. Jo was a hood nigga, so she didn’t really want attention from men. Unless she needed some dick.

“Let me finish washing my ass first. I’ll hit you when I’m at work to let you know if we got em’” Erik smiled showing his caps “Thank you lil’ mama. Let me see ya titties” Jo hung up the phone “Bitch I am not showing you my titties” she said as she put the it back down. Willow Smiths - Wait a minute started to play on her tv “Oh this my shit!” She shouted as she turned up the volume.

‘Wait a minute! I think I left my conscience on your front door step! Woo-oo Woo-oo, Wait a minute I think I let my consciousness in the sixth dimension. But I’m here right now, right now”

Jo got in her navy blue 67’ impala that was given to her by her uncle. She started the car and the radio came on ‘FUCK A FLASH THIS AINT SNAPCHAT! CUZ IVE BEEN GETTIN’ PAID, YELLOW DIAMOND-‘. Jo jumped so high she hit her head on the roof of the car “Ow fuck! Shit” she said turning down the volume and rubbing her head. “Let me turn this shit down. I’m not the Same nigga from last night”

Pulling into the parking lot at the mall she looked at the time on her phone 4:02 ‘shiiiiiiiieeeeeeedddddd I still got 30 minutes’ she thought.

‘ when I get up all in ya’ and we can hear the angels callin us, and we can see the sunrise before us and when I’m in that thang, I make that body sang I make her say🚨🚨🚨’

“nigga this my shit!!” She said turning the up volume. The song turned down and switched to big gangster by Kevin gates. “Scuse me bitch... oh. What you want nigga!” She said to Erik as she got out the car. “Why yo thick ass just getting out the car?” He said staring directly at her . Jo stopped and looked around ‘Did this nigga wait here for me?’ “what kinda stalker shit is you on bruh?” She hung up the phone when she saw him. “Chill lil mama. I’m just trying to make sure my future wife got to work safe.” “Where she at?” Jo said confused. Erik sucked his teeth “Girl stop playin, you know it’s you. Wicho sexy ass, ooooh girl I’d love to see all that ass in a sundress.” He said licking his lips.

“Boy if you don’t get yo ass on somewhere. I wouldn’t dare marry yo ass. All the bitches you be fucking I don’t know where to dick been, nigga” she said grabbing her work bag out her backseat. “Why you ain’t take yo ass in the store? Everybody in there fuck wichu, they would have gave you a discount if you would have asked. Renee prolly would’ve gave you them shits for free, she in love wicho bum ass.” She said reaching for the door. Erik slapped her hand away from the handle. “Why you always do that like I can’t open the door” she said walking pass him. “When a man is present a women shouldn’t touch doorknobs or handles.” He said staring at her ass. “Mmmmhmmmm. Whatever nigga”

“Hi, welcome to footlocker! If you need anything just let me know!” Jo said in her customer service voice. “Fake ass” Erik said walking passed the counter. “Shut up and getcho shoes nigga!” She said back.

As Jo was reluctantly helping Erik, like the good employee she was, the door buzzer went off “Hi welcome to foo- Fuck. Welcome to footlocker if you need help please don’t ask me. “ Erik turned around and saw three men walk in the store and smirk at Jo. One was tall, about 6’4, light skin with a fucked up gumby haircut. The second one was shorter, kinda looked like Boosie with dreads. The third one looked like Dave east.....but dirty.

“Who dat?” He asked watching them walk around the store “Remember I told you about that nigga that keep coming in here bothering me but I can’t do shit cuz he buy ten pair of shoes?” He nodded “That’s his ugly ass. The dinghy one. He get on my fucking nerves. This nigga smoke boggies and think it’s ok to talk directly in my face like boy get the fuck on” she said scanning eriks shoes while he was laughing his ass off “This shit not funny bruh like, I told him I had a boyfriend but he won’t leave me the fuck alone”. Erik looked at her inquisitively “Did you describe ya so called boyfriend” he said putting quotes around boyfriend. She shook her head no. “Bet” he said. “Aye bro where you going?”

Erik walked over to the shoe display and picked up the cement grey 4’s “lil mama, y’all got these in a 12!” He asked. Jo looked up from the register to see Erik across the store “

What’s those?” “Come here and see” she rolled her eyes and put his other shoes under the counter and jogged over. “Oh the cements, let me check in the back” noticing the ‘Dave east’ looking at Jo, Erik slid his hand on her hip as she talked. She looked at him sideways like he was crazy. He lifted his brows as to say ‘play along’ Jo gave him a stink face but nodded slightly “Gimme a kiss ma” “no I’m at work” “you so mean to me” he said pouting.

Jo rolled her eyes and walked to the back room. “Aye bro. Why you pushing up on ole girl like that?” Erik turned around to see ‘Dave east’ looking like he wanted to fight. “And who the fuck is you to be asking about my girl?” He said as he squared his shoulders. ‘Dave east’ backed up a little “oh shit bro my bad I didn’t know that shorty was yours.” Erik clenched his jaw a little “ stop staring at my girl. And If she tell me you keep harassing her imma beat the shit outchu” Erik said slightly walking toward him. ‘Dave east’ turned around and walked away. “All we got is 11 and 13. “ Erik looked at jo “that’s fine mamas, I got some already. Thank you tho” jo looked at him “ so you telling me that you made me walk all the way ova he fah some shoes you already got? You deadass? Your total is $557.82” Erik smirked at her “I can’t get a thank you?” “Fah what?” Erik smiled real big “you see ya mans?” Jo looked around “what you say to him?” She said as her eyes lit up “I told him to stop talking to you and he left” jo raised an eyebrow “I know you lying but thank you” she held her hand out, Erik looked her up and down “ what?” He asked “give me yo money, hoe” jo said with an attitude. Erik sucked his teeth and gave her his card. “Declined” “WHAT!” “I’m just fucking witchu. Enjoy your day, sir!” “You play to fucking much” Erik mumbled as he walked out the store.

[leenows]

I’m not being an asshole, I’m trying to get you guys to confront your bias against small blogs and new content creators. Creating a system where you shut so many people out is wrong. You keep bragging about being a network instead of a source blog, while also trying to claim that you’re not exclusionary. And youre the one using childish nasty insults, not me. English isn’t even my first language So get out of here with insulting my comprehension. I’m doing the best I can.

first of all, i will apologize for my comment, it was indeed childish and i take it back. english isn’t my first language either, so i understand it was hurtful. so i’m sorry.

but since you came into my askbox personally i’m going to explain this to you one final time, if you still don’t like my answer so be it but i’m tired of having to explain the same thing to you over and over again.

“I’m trying to get you guys to confront your bias against small blogs and new content creators” — this is downright ridiculous, i don’t know what i have to tell you for you to believe that we do not have a bias against small blogs or new content creators. do you want me to ask every single member of the network to confide exactly how many followers they have? will it make you feel better when you see there are members with less than 100 followers and members with more than 1000 followers? the mdzs network is open for everyone, no matter if you are a multifandom blog or a new content creator. the 40% mdzs content rule is there to make sure that you do post about mdzs, but i don’t religiously follow up the exact numbers on everyone’s blogs?? if i see around five mdzs related posts on the first page of your blog, whether they’re reblogs or original content, you’re good to go.

“Creating a system where you shut so many people out is wrong” — we have never shut anyone out. if you are an mdzs content creator you are welcome to join the network. if you don’t create content for mdzs, then you won’t be accepted into the network. it is what it is. but we’ve never shut out an mdzs content creator. if you’re not accepted into the network the first time around it is because we have our own reasons (and you are always allowed to ask why), plus you can always try again a second time.

“You keep bragging about being a network instead of a source blog” — that is because we are a network and not a source blog, we’re called the mdzs network for a reason. there is a difference, it doesn’t hurt to look it up.

“while also trying to claim you’re not exclusionary” — we’re not “trying” to claim we’re not exclusionary, we simply are not exclusionary. if you are a mdzs content creator, you can apply to the network. is that seriously so hard to understand? i don’t know why you’re so prissy about all of this.

if you had reached out to us without assuming things about us first, we could have had a civil discussion about this. we could’ve even come to an agreement. but from the moment you sent in the first ask you were condescending and accusatory. we tried to be nice but you kept coming back into our askbox full force, even when we explained how our network runs many times. if you don’t like it, i can’t change that, but you keep harassing us for the way we run our network. you could’ve just moved on if the answer didn’t satisfy you.

you need to stop clamping onto this idea that we are this tight knit clique of big blogs who hate outsiders. i started mdzsnet from nothing and with the help of hope and hanyi brought it to where it is today. if our non member content tag is not enough to convince you, i recommend talking to our members because they’ll be more than glad to inform you how the network helped get them exposure when they just started with giffing or came back after a hiatus. when i started the network i had just over 100 followers and close to no exposure at all on my gifsets, so don’t try to make this into a big blog / small blog discourse because that’s not what this is about.

we’re also not blocking anyone from getting their content seen. there are mdzs source blogs such as @/fymdzs and @/fytheuntamed, and there’s countless of tags such as #mdzsedit, #theuntamededit or #cqledit or even just the generic tags that you can use to get your content seen. we do not police nor have control over any of these blogs or tags. if you really believe that mdzsnet is the only way to get your content seen, then i’m sorry but that’s not the truth.

furthermore, the mdzs network is not here to service you specifically. i’m certain there are rules that we have established that some of our members may not agree with either, but we run our network the way we want and none of our members have ever been prissy about it. they are free to come to us if they’ve got complaints, and we’re open to changing things according to members’ wishes.

you're not paying us to run the network and we don’t work for you, nor is running this network our full time job. we’re all trying our best to manage a network of 70+ members and 3k followers, but if our way of running the net really bothers you that much you can just start your own network.

what i’m trying to say is that you were being an asshole and your actions have consequences. it’s you who came onto the network and started accusing us of things that aren’t even true on our own blog. you can’t kick us in the teeth and expect not to suffer any consequences. i’m done trying to explain this to you. have a good day / night.

[rainbowsky]

Ask Policy

In the interest of ensuring I can answer as many asks as possible without making too many people wait too long, I’ve decided to give some guidelines for submitting asks. Some of this is just me setting healthy boundaries because I find a lot of asks I get are outside of the scope of what I feel comfortable with, but some of it is just meant to help simplify things for those wanting to submit an ask.

I am always happy to get asks from people so don't let this policy hold you back from asking a question. It's meant as guidance to help people frame their questions to increase the likelihood they'll be answered - and as an explanation for why I don't always answer every ask. Please don't feel intimidated or deterred by the policy.

This policy is subject to change and updates so feel free to check back if there's anything you are unsure about.

I do not answer every ask

I want to start by making it clear that unlike some other bloggers, I do not answer every single ask I get. It would be impossible for me to do that. I don’t have the time or the spoons, and I get a large volume of asks daily. However, I read every single one of them and I do my best to take what I read into consideration when deciding on what to post about, etc. so even if I don’t get to your ask, it will be taken into consideration.

There are also some asks I just won’t answer, some topics I won’t discuss. I will try to outline the primary ones below, to make expectations clear.

Timing of answers

Also, I do not always answer asks in the order they are received. That would not be practical. Some asks require research and thought. Some inspire ideas that take longer for me to articulate than others. Some are time-sensitive. All of these impact the timing of a response.

Someone asking me, “What makes you believe BJYXSZD?” is going to take me a long time (months, apparently) while someone asking me, “What time is the XYZ livestream happening tonight?” takes only a moment to answer. Sometimes I get fixated on tangents about DD’s hair and fashion and will answer several asks in a row about it, even though there are older asks in the inbox.

All I can say is, I try to strike the right balance between giving people what they’re asking for while ensuring that I enjoy being on Tumblr and don’t end up feeling like it’s a job I’m not getting paid for. Sometimes I will set aside my needs for the needs of the readers, and other times I will set aside the needs of the readers for my own. This is the best way I’ve found to keep that balance right.

Guidelines for submitting an ask

Please check my index post before sending an ask. Many common questions will be answered in those posts.

Please try to keep the total word count under 300 words.

If you are asking a question, please make sure it's stated clearly.

If you want me to comment on something you saw online, please include a link so that I can see what you’re referring to.

If you have submitted the same question to multiple bloggers, please be open and honest about that.

If you aren’t anon and want me to respond privately please make that clear.

Things I'm unlikely to respond to

Hateful, harassing asks are deleted without hesitation.

Asks that go beyond the word count will likely not be answered. I have frequently gotten asks in the 600-1,200 word count range, and it’s just too much. If you have a lot to say, I recommend starting a blog of your own. Now, if you have that much to say to me and you don’t care about it being replied to then feel free to send it in, but please understand that I will likely not post your ask.

Asks that speak negatively of GG and/or DD, or that frame GG or DD as rivals or in opposition to each other, will be deleted. Such messages tend to be anti messages, and I won’t let my blog be a platform for that. If you have a good-faith question relating to that topic please be careful how you frame it, and understand I might not be willing to post a response.

Asks that are obviously copy pasted to multiple bloggers I will not answer unless there's a clear reason why they want multiple perspectives, and only if that has been stated openly in the ask. Spammed asks will be deleted.

Asks that just repeat or affirm what's already been said are less likely to be posted than ones that add something new to the conversation.

Complaints about what other people are doing online are generally referred to my post about fan wars. That’s not because I don’t care how you feel. I do, and I know how frustrating the fandom can be. I tend not to respond to those asks because I don’t want to fuel those thoughts and feelings in others, or to be a platform for spreading negativity and anger about others (and that includes solos). If you really want to talk about something relating to fan wars, try to find a way to frame it that won’t violate those principles.

While I am always happy to get fic recommendations, I have a policy of not posting fic recs to my blog. I cannot be a platform for promoting anything I haven’t yet read. I have gotten some recs that fall outside the type of fic I’m comfortable with. However, if I like the fic you recommend, it might end up on my rec list.

Asks regarding other ships, other fandoms or other artists besides GGDD are outside of my purview. My focus is on GGDD and things immediately relating to them.

Asks about time-sensitive things that have passed. For example, asks that people sent me about a live event as it was happening, which referenced things that would have made sense if read at the time but make no sense now or feel out of place after the fact, are unlikely to be responded to now.

Topics I am working on at the moment

Here’s a list of some of the ask-related posts I am currently working on, in case you are wondering whether to ask about a certain topic. If your ask hasn’t been answered you might want to check back here to see if it’s on the list.

What makes you believe BJYXSZD?

An update to my timeline post.

The BTS is fake/fan service.

Oversexualization of GGDD, especially on Twitter.

Why do solos dismiss GGDD’s relationship?

Will GG and DD ever come out?

If your ask hasn’t been answered

If your ask hasn’t been answered and

It’s been longer than a few weeks

It’s a topic I haven’t already covered (refer to my index post)

It isn’t on the list of topics I am currently working on (above)

It isn’t on the list of topics I won’t respond to (also above)

then there’s a chance it’s been lost or that I just haven’t had time. If it’s a question that really matters to you then feel free to resubmit as long as your ask meets all four of the criteria above.

If you do resubmit, consider rephrasing or reframing your ask to make it clearer and easier to answer.

I can’t guarantee I will get to it any sooner, but I will do my best.

If you don’t have time to answer all asks, why not close your inbox?

Some bloggers close their inbox when they are getting a volume of asks beyond what they have time to answer. I suspect they do that because it works for them and for how they go about things. That approach would not work for me or for how I like to engage with the fandom.

To me there is a huge value in being able to respond to asks about issues and events as they arise. It’s important to me to be able to discuss things that are currently happening, with input from readers as it is contributed. Closing my inbox would prevent that.

A lot of asks can be answered quickly. Yes, I could close my inbox and limit my answers to the longer, more time consuming asks that are lurking there. If I did so, I would ironically be answering significantly fewer asks than by leaving it open.

I also try to think about it from the ‘do unto others’ perspective, and in terms of what I expect from other bloggers when I submit an ask to them. I regularly submit asks to other blogs and when I do so, I never expect a response. I might hope for a response, of course, but I don’t expect it. I understand that people respond if/when they are able, and there might be countless reasons they wouldn’t get to my particular ask. I hope that readers can feel the same way when submitting an ask to me.

Can I message you privately?

Yes you can, but if you are messaging me to ask me a question or tell me something that might be of interest to other readers, please consider sending it as an ask so that it can be shared with everyone.