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wordsaresimple-imnot · 7 months ago

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Pen pal's - Bill Guarnere x F!Reader

Summary: Bill's childhood friend and neighbor writes him a letter after Henry is killed. They keep writing each other throughout the war, but following the events after Bastogne Bill sends a final letter that might end their future before it can really start.

Warnings: she/her pronouns, reader goes by childhood nickname, angst (mentions of war & healing from injuries), does have happy ending.

A/N: I have the biggest respect for the real life heroes of WWII (and all other wars, past & current), this work & all other works is based on the actor(s) and character(s) portrayed in the Band of Brothers series.

A/N pt 2: Full transparency, this one sorta got away from me but I let my creative muse take over and here we are. I was sitting on this idea for a minute and honestly, I love how it turned out. Hopefully y'all like it too! Comments, likes, and reblogs please!! Thank you!

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It was two weeks after Henry passed when a letter arrived for Bill. He didn't recognize the handwriting, but he knew the return address by heart. It was the house right next door to his childhood home. His suspicions of who it was from was confirmed once he started reading it.

Billy, I've spent the last week trying to figure out something comforting and eloquent to say but all I can come up with is; I'm so sorry about Henry. I can't imagine how you feel. I can't do much to make you feel better over there but I promise to help your mom and sisters with anything they need. You all have been a second family to me my whole life. I pray you stay safe and come home soon. Pip. P.S. I found this picture in one of my old journals and it made me smile. I hope it can do the same for you.

Bill flipped over the photograph that had been included and did, in fact, smile. It was three young kids laughing at the camera, completely covered in mud. He was pulled from the memory of that day when a hand grabbed the picture away from him.

"Henry, Billy, and me." Luz read the back of the picture out loud before flipping it around. "Who's the girl?"

"None of your business." Bill grabbed the picture back and stuffed it in his breast pocket, sending Luz a glare.

Not being fazed at all, Luz leaned over and skimmed at the letter Bill was still holding. "Billy? Who's Pip? Same girl from the picture?"

"Who made you the new Nixon around here? Fuck off, will ya."

"What's got Gonorrhea's in a twist?" Toye asked as he joined the two of them.

"Got some letter and picture from a girl." Luz wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"What, girl's not your type anymore?" Toye smirked at Bill.

"Both of you's, shut the fuck up. It's a neighbor I grew up with. She's like family."

"She cute?" Toye asked at the same time Luz said, "Is she single?"

"She's nothing to you two's or I'll break your jaws." With a final glare Bill folded up his letter and walked away. Toye and Luz smirked at each other, knowing this wouldn't be the last time they pissed him off about this mystery girl.

Pip dropped the remaining pieces of mail on the ground and rushed to her room, eager to read the letter addressed to her in messy handwriting. She knew she was smiling like an idiot as she read it, but she didn't care.

Pip, I appreciate you reaching out and taking care of ma and the girls for me. I couldn't ask for anyone better to watch over them. You're picture did make me smile, something I haven't done much of lately. I can still hear our ma's chewing us out over ruining your dress. Said Henry and I were keeping you from being a 'proper lady'. And if I remember correctly your response was you'd be one "when pigs fly". Thanks for reminding me of happy times. Don't be a stranger. Billy.

Two weeks later, another letter arrived.

Pip, I saw a field with some horses in it today and I thought of you. How you always wanted to live just outside the city with some land to have a horse and lots of dogs. I hope you get to have that one day. Maybe I'll come by and visit when you do. Billy

The next day as Pip made to leave the house to drop her response off at the post office, she ran into her mother.

"Where you off to in such a hurry?" The gleam in her eye and glance down at the letter in Pip's hand made it obvious she already knew the answer. Pip decide to play along since she was an only child and her mother needed to fuss over someone now and again.

"Just sending a letter back to Bill." She'd stopped calling him Billy out loud to people, but that's who he'd always be to her.

"Yes, I saw he'd send another letter. His poor mother doesn't even get back to back responses that quick. Lucky girl." She mused, smiling at the blush forming on Pip's cheeks.

"It's not like that, we're just old friends."

"Of course. Well, check with his mother and see if they have any mail to send out along with yours." Pip nodded, gave her mother a kiss on the cheek and practically sprinted out the houses before any more questions or observations could be made.

Bill couldn't figure out why he was so anxious after sending that second letter to Pip. She was just his neighbor, a life long family friend, like a sister... Well, not entirely like a sister. Henry always saw her like a sister, taking her under his wing and becoming the big brother she didn't have. His sisters saw her as an older sister, someone to play dress-up with and get boy advise from. But him...he'd never really seen her as that. She was family, absolutely. But not his sister.

When her response came, he wasn't sure if his anxiety got worse or better as he ripped it open.

Billy, I would have loved to have seen that field (although, maybe not during war time). I'm surprised you remember that, I think we were seven or eight when I came up with that idea. I never told you but I always imagined you'd live right next door to me and we'd see each other everyday, like we always did before this war. No matter where I end up, I'd still like you to visit. Pip

"Another letter from your 'family friend'?" Toye jumped down into the foxhole next to Bill.

"Why you sayin' it like that? She is a family friend. And what do you care who I get letters from?" Bill grumbled, folding his letter up and stuffing it inside his jacket.

"Luz said her name was, Pip. What's that about?" Toye asked, completely ignoring Bill's grumpy mood and response.

Bill gives a loud sigh, knowing that Toye isn't going to drop it and by extension neither will Luz until they've discovered everything to do with her.

"It's a nickname. Short for Pipsqueak. She was always this tiny little following me and Henry around back home."

"Sounds annoying." Toye says offhandedly, looking at his companion out the side of his eye. He see's a small smile form on Bill's face.

"At first, I guess. But honestly, it became so normal I never really thought about not including her in things." There's a long stretch of silence as they keep watch, then Bill speaks again. "She's family, but she's not my sister. Never has been. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, it does." Toye lights up a cigarette, passing one over to Bill. "Should tell her that someday." Bill doesn't respond, just lights up the cigarette and pulls a long drag from it.

The weeks and months that follow are filled with countless letters sent back and forth. There's no declarations of love or detailed accounts of the war, just two people sharing memories or tidbits about their days.

Pip would fill in the blanks about what was going on with his sister's love lives; who was a bum, who seemed nice, who looked weird. Once she gave him the play by play, as she could remember it, of a dinner at his house with the whole family, her, her mother, and a new beau his sister Marie was dating. His name was Paul, but said to call him Paulie. Pip and his two younger sisters, Bianca and Isabella, were on the verge of giggles all night because his voice sounded so much like a parrot and they wanted to ask him if he wanted a cracker. Then there was the shameful cooking lesson their mom's tried to have with Pip, that resulted in five burned pies.

Bill would tell her about the country side they'd go through and different animals he would encounter. He'd also tell her about the guys and stupid shenanigans they'd get up to. How getting shot in the ass started to become an Easy Company right of passage. When he meets Babe, he tells her about another Philly kid that grew up not far from them and how he's alright. He tells her about a game of darts he played with Babe as his partner, against a George Luz and Buck Compton, saying how they lost but he knows if she'd been his partner they would have won because they always make a great team.

They share memories from their childhood, some including Henry some with just the two of them. When she comes across them, Pip sends old pictures of them for him to have. One he becomes especially fond of is them at 16; they're at the local fair, he's holding a huge teddy bear he's just won above his head with one arm, the other is thrown over Pip's shoulder and she's got her arms wrapped around Isabella's shoulders as the younger girl is standing in front of her. They're all smiling, but only Bill and Isabella are looking at the camera. Pip is looking straight at Bill.

He got a lot of ribbing and questions from the guys when that picture came, but he just told them all to 'fuck off'. By this point it was common knowledge that Bill did, but didn't, have a girl back home. The guys loved to annoy him but truly they were happy he had someone, not all of them did.

Slowly, almost naturally, the letter's started becoming more intimate. Not sexually but emotionally. Greetings went from Dear, to Dearest, then Darling, eventually landing on "My Billy/Pip". Signatures would mix some type of variation of "Love, your Billy/Pip" and "Always yours, Billy/Pip". There still hadn't been any type of declaration of feelings, but they'd often write each other about the future and things they wanted to do or see together. They were always together no matter the plan or idea that popped in their heads about life after this war.

Then one day, in a forest in the dead of winter, everything changed.

It had been months since Bill and Toye were shipped back to the hospital for their surgeries and rehabilitation before getting to go home. Months since he'd last responded to one of Pip's letters. He knew, she knew what had happened as he'd written his ma letting her know he was okay after a telegram went out about his injury from the army. He couldn't stand the idea of her being worried sick about him, not after what happened with Henry.

Pip never mentioned the accident, just kept her letters light and full of the day to day happenings. But they always ended the same way, "P.S. Take your time, I'm here when you are ready and I'll always be yours." Each new letter was like a dagger in his heart. He loved her, so much so that he was planning to ask her to marry him when he thought he'd be going home a whole man. But now, how could he ask her to be with him when he wasn't all she deserved?

One day, he grabbed some paper and a pen and started his own version of a Dear John letter.

Pip was both relieved and terrified when she got a letter from Bill. He hadn't responded since being sent to the hospital to have his injury tended to. When his mother had gotten the telegram, all the army had said was that he was injured and being sent out immediately to their primary hospital. After what happened to Henry, she was in a terrible state so Pip pitched in as much as she could while wanting to breakdown herself. Soon enough a letter from Bill himself came and explained the situation as best he could and what was going on, but ultimately letting his mom and sisters know he was already. They'd all cried together when they read that. She waited weeks but no letter arrived for her. As time went on, she accepted that he needed time to heal and figure things out, so she kept sending him updates on his family and things in town, praying that one of them would trigger some type of response. Now she held one in her hands and she didn't know what it would contain.

Sitting in her room, she opened the letter and with each word felt her heart breaking.

My Pip, I am sorry I have not written. Truthfully, I have not known what to say. I know you must have gotten updates from my ma on my condition and I suppose that was the cowards way of letting you know and again, I am sorry. I didn't think this was how I would be telling you this but, I love you. I'm so damn, madly in love with you it's all I can think about lying here. But I can't keep this going any longer. You deserve someone not scarred, literally and emotionally, from this war and the horrors that have leaked inside me. I want you to have everything you've ever dreamed about. I just can't be the one to give it to you. I will love you till my last breathe. Love you always, Billy

With her letter crumpled in her hands, Pip curled up into her bed and cried until there was nothing left to come out.

Bill knew he should feel lucky. Hell, he was the luckiest damn bastard he knew of right now. He was finally home after being away for years, seeing the worst of human nature, eating a home cooked meal surrounded by his mother and sisters that he'd missed terribly. But there was still a large aching hole in his heart the shape of the girl next door. He'd been home for a month and they'd yet to run into each other. He wasn't sure if he could handle seeing her after the letter he'd sent, but that didn't stop him from praying for just one glance.

His sisters had seen her a few times since he'd been home, but every time he asked how she was they just shot him a glare and changed the subject. They obviously knew enough to have picked her side and he couldn't blame them.

"You're awfully quiet tonight, William." His mother's voice brought him back to the present. "Everything okay?" He suddenly felt like a child again under her critical gaze.

"Yeah, I'm good ma." He slapped on a quick smile, which dropped quickly at hearing Bianca and Isabella snort and cough at the end of the table. "What's up with you two?"

"They're tired of you lying. We all are." Marie sent him a cold look.

"I'm not lying about anything." He clenched his jaw to keep his temper in check. These were his sisters, not the boys, he couldn't react like he wanted.

"Yes, you are. Pip is too. You're both miserable. We see it everyday. Just admit you made a mistake and apologize." Marie turned fully to face him and gave him a look that challenged him to deny any of it.

Before he could say anything, his mother cut in. "Girls, go to your rooms. I wanna speak with William. Go on." She gave them her no nonsense look when they didn't move fast enough. With a few grumbles they all left the room and the silence that over took Bill and her was tense.

"Ma, I don't want to talk about it." Bill sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"You don't have to speak, just listen, yeah? You're my child and when you have a child you pray that they find happiness and have all of their dreams come true. It sounds foolish, but that's the truth. Throughout the years, I've always believed that your happiness lie with Pip and when you started writing each other I knew I was right. Every time she would relay some story you wrote her or say "Bill said this, Bill said that" it was like looking in a mirror to when I first fell for your father. Once you've had a great love, you recognize it in other people. Now, looking at both of you all I can see is myself after your father passed. A sorrow that settles in the bones and your soul and never quite goes away. I know you had the best intentions in mind when you did, what you did, but if it's slowly killing you both inside was it really for the best?"

Bill couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes, too afraid he'd completely break down, so he stared at his plate and fiddled with the table clothe. Eventually his mom got up, gave him a kiss on the cheek and left him alone with his thoughts.

Two days later, Pip stood at the back door of the Guarnere house. She'd promised Bianca she'd help her pick a dress for her upcoming dance and after much back and forth, and almost tears, had agreed to come to their house only because Bianca swore Bill would be gone. As she entered the kitchen, she called out to Bianca but didn't receive an answer. She walked further into the house, heading towards the living room still calling out.

"Bianca? Anybody? Hello? I swear if she stood me up, I'm gonna kill her." Just as she finished her though out loud, she stopped dead in her tracks. In the middle of the room stood Bill on his crutches, holding her favorite flowers in one hand. Every time she opened her mouth to say something, she couldn't think of anything and closed it again. Eventually, Bill broke the silence.

"Don't be mad at Bianca, I bribed her to get you over here. I understand if you don't want to hear anything I have to say and walk out, but if you give me a few minutes I swear you'll never have to see me again if that's your wish." Hesitantly, Pip walked into the living room and followed Bill's lead by sitting on the sofa. Slowly she took the flowers from him and laid them in her lap, meeting his eyes.

"I've been practicing what to say all day, but can't seem to remember a damn thing now." He gave a humorless chuckled, clenching and unclenching his hands to steady himself. "What I did, all of it, is unforgivable. I...All I could think about in that hospital was all the things I wouldn't be able to do with you. All the things I might not be able to give you. I believed I was doing what was right, by pushing you away so you could find someone else. But underneath all of that I was scared too. Scared you'd see me now and think less of me. Would always look at me with pity in your eyes and I'd never be that great man you deserve. Now, I'm scared I've lost the only person that matters. Every day since I sent that letter, and especially since being home, it's felt like a wound is festering inside me and I can't fix it. I know I've hurt you, and I'll never forgive myself for that, but if you can just give me a chance to make it right I'll spend forever making it up to you."

Bill would've given her his beating heart if she asked for it. The longer the silence stretched, the more he was sure she would say goodbye. He held his breathe as one of her hands, shakily raised and cupped his cheek. She had tears in her eyes.

"How could I possibly look at you and think less? You've been everything I ever wanted since we were kids. And now everyone knows what I always knew, that you're a hero and a great man. We've had each other backs for forever, I don't think we should stop now. I don't care if we can't do certain things the way we talked about, we will find new ways to do them. All I want, all I've ever wanted, is you by my side. I'll accept your apology under on condition."

"Anything." His answer was immediate.

"Kiss me." The words were barely out when he pulled her closer to him and pressed his lips to her, firmly and with all the passion he had inside him.

Bonus scene: 6 months later

Everyone seemed to be having a good time; drinks were flowing, people were dancing, and in the corner taking a break from mingling, the bride and groom were sipping champagne and sneaking kisses.

"When can we leave?" Bill mutters, nipping her bottom lip quickly.

"I spent all day getting ready, I'm wearing this dress as long as possible." She half joked, taking a sip from her flute.

"I never said you had to take it off." Bill whispers in her ear, smirking at the blush on her cheeks.

"Control yourself and I'll let you take it off, however you want." She shoots him a wink and then grabs her purse, pulling a small box out of it. "Here, I have a gift for you."

Bill raises an eyebrow, taking the box from her. "What is it?"

"Just open it." She smiles at him.

Bill pulls the top off and pulls out a little figurine, laughing instantly. It's a small pig with wings attached. When pigs fly. He looks back and her and cups her cheek.

"I love you, Mrs. Guarnere."

"I love you, Mr. Guarnere."

#bill guarnere #bill guarnere x reader #band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #hbo war #hbo band of brothers #band of brothers x reader

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c-schroed · 2 years ago

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Podcasts I Adore - Re: Dracula or This Year, Our Friend Jonathan Has a Podcast!

"I had for dinner, or rather supper, a chicken done up some way with red pepper, which was very good but thirsty. (Memorandum: Get recipe for Mina.)"

I wanted to join "Dracula Daily" ever since I heard of it. To me, this is a stroke of genius; it's just the perfect approach to this book. I mean, not only is Bram Stoker's horror classic an epistolary novel with precise dates given for every journal entry or letter written by one of its protagonists, it also spans quite an ideal amount of time, i.e. roughly half a year. Long enogh to give it a feeling of something interesting and important slowly unraveling, short enough to not feel like too much of a commitment.

So yeah, I really wanted to join "Dracula Daily". Especially because I wanted to read the novel in English for years already (so far I've only read its German translation, because that's my native language). But, alas, I do not find the time so easily to add a book to my to do list, so I ended up not joining this lovely book club last year, fearing I'd miss out on most of the entries sooner or later.

Enter "Regarding Dracula". Right after seeing it for the very first time I knew this will be perfect for me. I already have a habit of listening to audio drama on my daily commute, and preferably in the form of fictional podcasts. So quite literally, @re-dracula had me at hello.

And gosh, they did not disappoint. Although I have to admit that I was a bit disappointed to find out that the format is more that of a classical audio drama, with voice actors speaking every line of their respective character. Originally, I was hoping for a more podcast-like approach, meaning that each actor speaks all of the text of a journal entry or letter, period. As if Jonathan would make a podcast instead of notes in his journal. I simply like it when audio fiction uses the possibilities of podcasts, and "Dracula" felt like something that could profit from this way of storytelling, too. So yes, I admit it: I was a bit disappointed. But not for long.

After hearing just a few sentences of Karim Kronfli as Dracula, I immediately understood the decision to breathe life into each character this way. I mean, I love Ben Galpin's work as Jonathan, but Dracula really, really profits from Kronfli's nonchalant but still breathtakingly powerful and confident take on this charakter.

And Mr. Kromfli is not the only one who makes a redefiningly marvellous job here. So far, all the voice actors go far out of their way to make me fall in love with each and every one of them: Ben Galpin's Jonathan is heartbreakingly relatable, Isabel Adomakoh Young's Mina is capable and charming beyond measure, and Beth Eyre's Lucy is just gorgeous. Yes. I'm in love.

In addition to all that talent of its cast, "Re: Dracula" also has a neat and absolutely on point score and sound design. And, just like the basic idea of "Dracula Daily", it really gives you a feeling of how time passes between the journal entries and letters. Haven't heard anything of Jonathen for a while? One does start to worry a bit. Lucy answering to Mina just two days after the Mina's letter? Wow, that was quick, I guess (not sure how quickly the postal service worked back then, though). Even if one has read "Dracula" again and again, I am sure this form of presentation can grant new insights!

So, if you, like me, are a more eager listener than reader, or if you happen to like close-to-perfection audio drama, then please give this a shot! I bet you, like me, will soon be finding yourself eagerly, yearningly awaiting the next bit of news from your good friend Jonathan, who hopefully soon returns from that terrible business trip of his. 9 out of 10 points.

#re: dracula #dracula daily #dracula daily deluxe #audio fiction #podcast #podcast review #audiobook #horror #classic #dracula #bram stoker #karim kronfli #isabel adomakoh young #beth eyre #i'm hooked #i'm so very darn hooked #schroed's thoughts

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fangbangerghoul · 5 months ago

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It's SUNDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That means you all *boops your nose* get a little snippet. A little treat if you will. It will be under the cut!

Hopefully everyone has had a great week! I know there has been some exciting news that dropped this week and maybe something happened in your day to day that really lightened the load of the horrors that persist in life.

I've been working on everything but writing but I have gotten some in while I had the motivation. Lately I have been binge watching Naruto Shippuden; you may have seen a few of my silly posts because I cannot get over how queer it is, and I will die on this hill. (This is my first time really sitting down and rewatching it since it aired in the US) But between working on drawing wips, watching Naruto and my kiddos new love for minecraft I have not been able to play Dragon's Dogma 2 as much as I want. The fic has been processing in the back of my mind while I do other things so that has been helpful when I can return to writing.

If you haven't checked it out, you can check out my Beren piece that I managed to finish this week! Also posted a Ghoul wip update!

Tagging: @bearlytolerant , @staticpallour, @lisa-and-shadow, @arisenreborn, @soloavengers

@linashirou, @roguishcat, @crystal-overdrive, @eridanidreams, @spookyspecterino

@toxiclizardwrites , @5oh5 , @interplanet--janet , @a-cosmic-elf , @booburry

None of these tags are mandatory to do and if tagging on sundays has been stressful let me know so I can reframe from adding writing anxieties! I look forward to seeing what everyone has!

He felt a clinch in his jaw tighten as is impatience grew. Erik never cared to wait too long and the drowning heat from the sun made the wait feel extensive. He tried to rearrange his long legs to cross in a different position but nothing felt comfortable for him. Still, he tore small flowers out of the ground around him and played with them between his fingers to distract himself. There was a moment he considered saying something but as soon as he parted his lips to speak, he closed them tightly into a pressed line once again.

“Out with it, Erik.” Quil finally spoke as his attentions still focused on the journal that was within his lap. The other party members sliver hair was tied neatly back, and his robes hung loosely off of his body, he looked incredibly cool and calm unlike Erik felt. “Are you sure that is what you want?” Ambrosius snorted from his position before rearranging his posture to lean differently on the stone wall. Ambrosius’ cat eyes were impartial and focused on their surroundings but there was a slight smirk that subtly mocked Erik’s impatience.

You can read the rest of the chapter on AO3

#dd2 #fang writes #snippet sunday #sunday snippet #dd2 fanfic #oc: Erik #dragons dogma 2

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f1-stuff · 1 year ago

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kid fic 👀

Thank you for your patience, anon! Posted below is the 'prologue' of the fic. My google doc for this one is 13k words and counting, so look out for a part one on ao3 (hopefully) really soon! -> WIP game

It’s a Saturday in Melbourne when Carlos is called to the track early for a meeting with his manager and the team’s legal department.

He doesn’t think much of it - maybe it’s about some merchandising opportunity, or a special race suit for Spain. Or maybe he said some comment in an interview yesterday that he shouldn’t have, though he can’t think of what that would’ve been off the top of his head. And anyway, if that were the case, then his press officer would be there. He supposes he might be, actually.

Carlos takes his time, stopping for his usual espresso and saying good morning to any team personnel who’ve arrived as early as he has. He’s feeling optimistic - the car felt good in free practice yesterday, so he’s hopeful they can have a good weekend.

When he finally makes it to the conference room, the head of the legal department’s there, along with his cousin and manager, Caco. What makes Carlos stop in his tracks though is the television screen at the end of the room. It’s displaying a zoom call containing what can only be a room full of Ferrari legal aides and lawyers, all sitting and facing the camera with silent, somber expressions.

His eyes meet Caco’s, who’s already looking at him with an apprehensive arch to his brow, like he thinks Carlos knows the reason for this meeting. In other words, his cousin doesn’t know the reason for this meeting.

A tense, nervous energy permeates the room.

“Carlos. Take a seat,” the chief legal officer, Sabina, says, all business.

Carlos takes a seat beside Caco with trepidation, clearing his throat of sudden nerves. “What is this about?”

“Lucía Ibarra. Does this name sound familiar?”

His jerk reaction is to say ‘no.’ But he pauses, the name scratching something at the back of his memory. Lucy...

“Uh...maybe. Yes, I think so,” he amends. He knew a ‘Lucy,’ short for Lucía, years ago, and he knew her last name once upon a time, too. But it’s been a while. That, though...it sounds like it could be right. “What about her?”

“Do you know this woman?”

“I did- I mean...years ago-”

“Lucía Ibarra, twenty-six years old, living in France and working as a journalist for a small, local publication.”

France?

When he’d met her, she was living in Madrid with dreams of becoming a writer, studying toward a degree in university. She’d had a double-focus in French and journalism, so he supposes it makes sense if that’s where she’d ended up.

Carlos feels a tickle of pride for her, but it’s buried underneath his bewilderment, as Sabina continues to list off details of a girl’s life that Carlos hasn’t seen or heard from in four or so years. A girl who Carlos had thought he would just continue to wonder about from time-to-time, who’d changed her number after...whatever they were together, so that even if Carlos had wanted to call he couldn’t.

“Carlos.”

“Yes. Sorry.”

“So you did in fact know this woman? That certainly complicates things, but no matter what, we have a plan in place.”

“A...plan-?”

“We’ve contacted your lawyer, who will join our call soon, I expect.”

Carlos meets eyes with Caco, who feels his gaze and returns it with equal dread.

“What...” He clears his throat. “What has happened to her?”

“There’s been an accident,” Sabina says, and his heart sinks. An accident? But it still doesn’t make any sense. What does this have to do with him? “We don’t have all the details. But we’re organizing a flight for you to France-”

“A flight? What- when?”

“Right after the race.”

“But- this is impossible,” Carlos insists, almost feeling like laughing, but sensing it’s the wrong time. He’s just so, completely lost by everything going on. “I cannot fly to France after the race. Japan is in two weeks.”

His race preparation will go to shit if he flies to Europe. The jetlag alone will fuck up his entire system and concentration. Not to mention the fact that he still has no fucking clue why he needs to go to France for a woman he kind of knew years ago, who he hasn’t spoken to since she told him to ‘figure out your shit’ in a hotel room in Barcelona.

He’s sorry to hear about her accident, of course. Does this mean she’s...dead? Shit. But he can’t drop everything to...attend a funeral, or whatever’s going on. And the team should know that. How do they even know about her?

“Carlos, this is non-negotiable. Now, we recognize the sensitivity of the situation, so we’ve decided you should stay for the race. But we don’t want you talking to any news outlets or making any statements.”

Statements about what, he wants to ask. But Sabina beats him to it.

“Lucía Ibarra had a child, Carlos - three years old. And apparently, she’s yours.”

#no charles in this snippet but trust that this will be charlos 😅#I'm not completely settled on the names and places yet but I've got the general outline for part one finished...#super excited about this one #WIP tag game #anon #ask #rpf #charlos kid fic

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gravitytrips · 5 months ago

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Bits of Glass 12

From the Organized Medical Journal of Felix Ludwig.

File name: Bits of Glass

Note: This document will be written in English so that the Lady Administrator may read it with ease.

Date: 14.02.1969

Unfortunately, my illness persists. I have been caring for myself as much as possible so that I may return to Jeremy’s side.

Tragedy struck last night. Mick has fallen ill as well.

I assume that this is because of his visit in the vents.

He attempted to isolate himself in his camper van, but eventually had to come back inside due to his flooding of his van’s facilities.

Of the four hours he has been in here, he has been in the bathroom for at least three. The sickness is coming from both ends, to put it nicely.

I have put him on the same medication that I am taking, so he should be well soon enough.

I will be well enough to return to Jeremy’s side tomorrow.

———————————————————————

Good news! My fever broke almost immediately after my previous entry. After a few hours, I was well enough to return to caring for Jeremy.

When he first saw me, he was incredibly frightened. I had completely forgotten to approach him slowly and gently in my rush to ensure his health. I am also sure that my disheveled appearance may have surprised him.

Fortunately, I caught myself in time and retreated to make a slower approach.

When Jeremy recognized me, he seemed relieved. Mikhail informed me that all of them were very worried while I was gone.

Jeremy’s health has seemingly remained constant, so I will instead write on Mick’s health.

He is bad off.

Fortunately, the diarrhea has stopped, but his ceaseless nausea continues. None of the nausea medicine I give him helps. He dry heaved for nearly an hour before his body was too exhausted to go on. He is asleep in my office now.

I need to give him his medicine, but I hate to wake him. Sleep is a kind path out of illness and he struggles to get into this state. If I wake him now, he may not be able to go back to sleep, and that would be quite the curse.

He is sweating profusely, but cannot keep any fluids down. I worry about how dehydrated he is becoming.

I have been able to force him to keep solid medicine down, so he shall hopefully recover soon.

I will update tomorrow.

@aerowolf

@callme-adam-iguess

@paranoidginger

@wokeuptraveledstraightintothesun

@ratlordsarah

@treatsf

@scouts-cosplays

#Fanfic #Bits_of_Glass #Sorry for the crappy quality #I’ve been busy :(

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wrestlersownmyheart · 7 months ago

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Closer Than You Think Chapter 2 (Dean Ambrose X OC)

Title: Closer Than You Think Pairing: Dean Ambrose X OC: Shannon Brock Summary: When a serial killer claims a number of victims including NXT wrestler, Shannon Brock's cousin, she vows to find the killer after she is bumped to RAW from NXT. Her cousin's lover, AJ Styles, appoints himself and the Shield—Dean Ambrose, Seth Rollins and Roman Reigns—as her bodyguards.

Dean takes the task very seriously and doesn't let Shannon out of his sight, despite the game of cat and mouse they play with the killer. Can he keep her safe, or will the killer claim his ultimate victim?

Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination. Content/Trigger Warnings: Extreme Violence against women; murder

Chapter Two

Shannon Brock switched her cell phone to her other ear and grabbed a fruit salad out of the hotel room's mini refrigerator while she spoke with her cousin, Larissa Anderson.

The two women were actually more like sisters than cousins. Not only did they share the same physical attributes: long black hair, pale skin and identical gray eyes, they also had grown up living next door to each other, went to school together, spent weekends at each other's houses and watched their beloved wrestling together. They were virtually inseparable. They even planned for their careers to be in the same industry. Larissa wanted to write for World Wrestling Entertainment, while Shannon wanted to wrestle for them.

Then came Shannon's unforgettable eighteenth birthday—the day she'd been waiting for her whole life.

Shannon had applied for entrance to Funking Conservatory Wrestling School a couple weeks prior, and almost as if fate was giving her a birthday present, she received a letter of acceptance that very day. She'd ripped into the envelope with a vengeance and then cried tears of joy when she saw the printed words informing her of her acceptance.

"Mom! Daddy! They accepted me," she'd squealed happily, jumping up and down. "I'm moving to Ocala!"

She was lucky in finding an apartment near her school within the week and was soon on her way to living her dream. Excitement filled her heart, but so did sadness. She had never been away from her family for more than a week. How will I handle being away from them permanently, she wondered. I know I'll be able to visit them, but still… I'm living on my own now. I'm starting my life.

The day came when she left for Ocala. She hugged and kissed her parents goodbye, and then latched onto Larissa. "I'm going to miss you all so much," she cried. "I didn't realize how hard this would be."

"You'll be fine, Shannon," Larissa whispered, hugging her cousin tightly. "In fact, you're going to be amazing! I can't wait to see you on TV," she encouraged.

"You're going to make me cry," Shannon smiled through her tears. "I love you."

"Love you too. Now go get to school and show the veterans how it's done," Larissa teased. "I'll see you at WWE Headquarters in a few years."

Larissa sounded light-hearted for Shannon's benefit, but for a long time, she felt alone. However, she knew Shannon was doing what she loved. And so was Larissa. She had entered college a year before to major in English and minor in Journalism. Three years of very hard work later, she graduated and within a month had secured her dream job. Writing on the creative team for World Wrestling Entertainment.

Four years later, she worked up to both writing and producing—which was how she met her boyfriend, Jim Walker.

"Work is going great." Shannon answered her cousin, as she mentally returned from her reverie of the past. "As you know, I'm sure, I've been NXT Women's Champion for about six months now. Hopefully, I'll get to keep it a while longer. I get afraid every time I get my script that I could learn I'm about to lose the title to someone." She took a bite of pineapple then, "So how is everything with you? How are you and Jim doing?"

"Work is also going great for me. Very busy," Larissa chuckled. "All these storylines and the deadlines that go with them are about to wipe me out, but I'd not have it any other way."

"Well, I'm so glad you are enjoying it. We were both so blessed to get the exact jobs we were wanting," Shannon smiled, genuinely happy for her cousin. "So, how about Jim? Are you still having problems?"

"Not anymore," Larissa answered. "But that is probably because we broke up about two weeks ago. He just became too controlling and jealous for me to deal with."

Shannon felt terrible for her cousin. She knew how crazy about Jim she had once been. "I'm so sorry, Larissa," she said. "I wish there was something I could do."

"Don't worry, Shannon," Larissa told her. "I'm doing much better without him. The ordeal just taught me that being single isn't nearly as bad as being with a jerk."

"That's true," Shannon agreed whole-heartedly. "Well, I really hate to make this a short phone conversation, but I have got to get to bed early so I can work out in the morning and get ready for tomorrow night's show."

"No worries. I understand completely," Larissa told her. "I just wish our schedules would calm down a little so we could get together. Or even if all the brands had a week of being in the same state."

"I know, I miss you so much," Shannon said softly. "I hate that we never get to see each other."

"Maybe soon we can," Larissa said, hope in her voice. "I'll let you get to bed now. Goodnight, Shannon. Love you."

"Goodnight. I love you too."

With that, the two women disconnected the call and got back to the tasks of their everyday lives.

0o0o0

That Night In Philadelphia…

"Dana," Jarold, the night manager of Denny's called out. "Table nine needs more coffee!"

The restaurant was swamped and buzzing with excitement. The building was full of wrestlers and wrestling fans from the live event that had occurred only three blocks away.

"Okay, I'm on it," Dana called back over the dull roar of adoring WWE fans. She grabbed the non-decaffeinated coffee pot and headed to the table that a man was seated at.

"I assume you want regular and not decaf," she flashed him her charming smile, trying to get as good a tip as possible, and brushed her dark ponytail back over her shoulder flirtatiously.

"Yeah, that'll be great," he smiled back at her. "I guess you're staying pretty busy tonight, huh," he conversed as she filled his cup up.

Dana enjoyed the sexy rasp in the handsome man's voice and immediately became nervous. I must look awful after being around this greasy atmosphere all night, she fretted. "Well, I wasn't super busy till about a half hour ago," she chuckled. "But hey, I'm in a large room full of gorgeous wrestlers. So it's worth it," she joked.

"Well, I'm sure you have every male eye in the room locked on you, flashing that smile of yours," the man said, just the slightest hint of disdain entering his demeanor.

Did I imagine that, Dana wondered. Or maybe I'm just really tired and reading too much into his behavior. He seemed friendly enough, but there was some thing dark, sinister in his eyes. Like Dracula, hot and sexy, yet evil and cold-blooded.

He's handsome, I'll give him that, Dana thought. But then again, so was Ted Bundy.

"Well, enjoy your coffee, sir," she said, suddenly growing uncomfortable. "And if you need anything else, just let me know." She smiled kindly this time, with no flirting whatsoever, and headed back to the waitress station.

The young woman stayed busy for the next two hours re-filling coffee, soft drinks, serving desert, collecting dishes and wiping tables. Her only comfort was that she'd made about two hundred dollars in tips, which she'd poked very securely into her waitress apron.

Finally, at about midnight the diner was close to empty so Dana began performing her end-of-shift duties, to prepare for the next waitress' shift. She wiped down all tables and booths, cleaned the coffee machines and soft drink machines, took all dirty dishes to the back to be washed, then prepared to take out the garbage.

Minutes later, she was hauling two large trash bags along with her as she hurried out the backdoor and to the huge dumpsters in the dark alley.

"Why can't these dumpsters be closer to the building," she grumbled under her breath, as she hefted the bags up into one of the large receptacles.

And then suddenly, the hair on her neck stood on end. A cold chill ran down her spine and she visibly shuddered.

"You should have had someone else take the trash out…"

Dana had no time to react, a knife was at her throat instantly.

A hand clamped over her mouth, "Don't scream…" The raspy voice told her, "Or this will hurt more than it has too."

Oh my God, Dana panicked. Please somebody come out here…She prayed silently, Somebody come check on me…

But there was no one nearby. Nobody to hear her whimpering cries. Nobody to see as the serrated edge of the blade viciously tore into her pale throat.

And nobody noticed for a long while that she never re-entered the building…

0o0o0

Shannon reached over to the nightstand and picked up the receiver of the in-room phone which was ringing incessantly. "Hello," she uttered, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Miss Brock in room 509," came a pleasant female voice.

"Yes, this is she," Shannon said, fighting off a yawn.

"I'm just delivering your 7 A.M. wake up call ma'am. Would you like me to make a follow-up call in five minutes?"

"No, thank you," she replied. "I'm awake enough, so that's not necessary."

"Okay, Miss Brock. Help yourself to a complimentary breakfast in our cafe. Have a nice day."

"Thank you. You have a nice day too." She hung up the phone and stretched with a soft groan. "Ugh…seven o'clock already…."

She stood to her feet then and turned on the television to get the morning news while she prepared for her day. Listening to the weather forecast, she discarded the black satin nightgown she'd slept in and grabbed some workout clothes out of her suitcase. After pulling on a pair of pink yoga pants, a black sports bra, and layered an off-the shoulder black t-shirt over a pink tank top she stepped into a pair of running shoes. Within minutes her teeth were brushed and she began pulling her hair up into a messy bun when the words "brutal murder" shot her attention to the television. Her gaze froze on the TV screen as she listened in.

"…In Philadelphia late last night a brutal murder has the city in turmoil. Live in Philadelphia, Jack Cooper has the story."

"Philadelphia…" Shannon whispered, worriedly. That's where Larissa was last night.

The feed cut to an area at the back of a restaurant taped off with police tape, with Jack Cooper facing the camera.

"The body of thirty year old, Dana Marshall was found outside in this very alley of Denny's restaurant at approximately 12:20 this morning. When the murder was first called in by the late shift's manager, Jarold Carver, the police's first impression was robbery due to the fact that the manager had reported that they'd had a very busy night and that the young woman had made a large amount of money in tips. However, when they arrived at the scene it was a different story. Dana was found lying on her back with her throat and entire body slashed.

A photograph then popped on the television screen of a woman who was apparently Dana Marshall.

"My God…" Shannon whispered.

The woman looked so much like Larissa and herself it was uncanny. The only major difference is that Shannon and Larissa were a few years younger and had longer hair.

Suddenly unnerved, Shannon turned the television off and tried to get herself mentally ready for the day's events. But the images of what she had seen and heard were engraved her mind.

"Denny's…" she thought out loud as she rubbed some tension out of her neck. Grabbing her phone off the night table, she pulled up Google and typed out "Denny's restaurants in Philadelphia", then picked the first link offered. She scanned the page for the street address of the establishment and was distressed to find the address was merely three blocks away from the Thompson Stadium-where SmackDown had been taped.

"Why is this creeping me out so bad," she asked herself. Then shook her head to clear it. "Ugh...I'm just being paranoid. Get a grip, Shannon."

Making sure she had her room's key card in her wallet, she grabbed her gym bag and stuffed a change of clothes into it and then she hurried out the door intent on grabbing some coffee on her way to the gym. And then she was going to work the strange new tension out of her body, even if it killed her.

If you want on my tag list just ask! 🙂

Tagging:

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#Dean Ambrose #Dean Ambrose Fan Fiction #Dean Ambrose Imagine #Dean Ambrose X OC #Dean Ambrose Fan Fic

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thekatebridgerton · 2 years ago

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(today on 'stories I'm too sleep deprived to write' episode 45634)

Catching up to Polin week DAY THREE:

Time Travel AU

After her friend Eloise asks her to restore and transcribe the journals of Colin Bridgerton I discovered in a time capsule in Aubrey Hall, Penelope Featherington absolutely falls inlove with the young Rake's writings. Colin is charming, he's funny, he's mischievous...and he dissapeared mysteriously in the 1800's.

Determined to discover why such a vibrant man dissapeared without a trace the summer his eldest brother got married. Penelope goes digging trough the Bridgerton antique collection for clues only to find herself transported in time into the life of the third daughter of the 1800's Featheringtons. And while everyone believes she is indeed the third daughter of Baron Featherington who merely took a bad fall and is terribly confused. Penelope knows that according to her family tree, the Featheringtons third daughter died at age seventeen from exactly that fall that she has now supposedly survived.

Enter the real live Colin Bridgerton, the man of the journals who's disappearance Penelope is determined to solve. The closer she gets to him, the more she falls inlove. While still trying to figure out what made him dissapear on June 5th. And Colin who indeed has never known Penelope in such a light before now, starts to fall more and more inlove. But Penelope knows she's living on borrowed time and will have to return to modern times soon, no matter how much Colin loves her, she doesn't belong in the Regency era and he does.

Until finally June 5th arrives and it's Penelope who starts fading away. Finally answering the mystery of how Colin managed to vanish without a trace. Because his love somehow got him pulled into the future with her.

Penelope wakes up in the 21st century and finally realizes the truth. She did die in the Regency era at age 17 with a lot of regrets over never having confessed her love to Colin. And in her new reincarnation she went back and fulfilled her own dying wish.

Colin Bridgerton wakes up in the 21st Century to a full set of memories from the third son of the Bridgerton family who has been in a coma for years. His sister Eloise being his primary caretaker, has been studying to become a doctor and cure him. Only for him to wake up calling for Penelope, hoping his life in the regency era was not a dream and that she's still alive here and hopefully remembers him

#someone write this #Polin week #Penelope Featherington #colin bridgerton #polin #time travel au

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harper-collins · 1 year ago

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When You're Missing A Face [Halloween Special]

Dipper had gotten himself in a bit of trouble just a day before Halloween and needed a way to sort things out quickly... Little did he know what he was getting himself into.

WARNING: GORY!! Graphic descriptions of gore and slight violence. Please be aware and do NOT read this if you're squeamish about that sort of thing.

Requested by @tinyriver-neonlights (I hope you enjoy!)

“Dipper, why don’t you come? You are dressed for the part!” Mabel pressed, looking at her brother with a slight amount of disdain. The male brunette could only shake his head. He had a large frown on his face, but it wasn’t visible as he had a mask over his face. It covered the majority of his face and didn’t show anything of the features you could see, and that, Dipper liked.

“I told you, Mabel, I have plans,” he replied, moving to grab a coat and his bag. She pouted and watched her brother for a moment. “You didn’t tell me about these plans! Is it with Pacifica?” She asked hopefully, a twinkle showing. Dipper’s frown deepened, just because he was bisexual, didn’t necessarily mean he wanted what many men and lesbians thought was the sexiest woman in Gravity Falls. He may have had the slightest little crush on her when they were twelve, but that was just him trying to get over Wendy, and by the time he’d returned a year later to see his uncles, he couldn’t have cared less.

“She’s coming to the party isn’t she?” Dipper pressed, his voice getting a little scratchy with his patience running out. “Ohh yeah… So what are you doing?” She asked, moving a small bit of her hair out of the way of her face. The male shook his head and began to walk towards the door, he wasn’t going to tell her even if she begged him. It was too dangerous, he shouldn’t have even thought of doing this himself, but he was desperate.

“Look, just have a nice time at the party alright? And uhh… Say hi to Gideon or whatever for me,” he told her and left. He closed the door before she could even muster a response. As soon as that door was shut he got going, speed-walking into the forest before his sister could run after him. With it getting dark earlier now, and him wearing black, it was easy to completely miss him in the darkness. It helped Dipper feel a little better about his circumstances, but he knew it wouldn’t be for long.

Next was the long trip to his planned Halloween evening. It was far enough so no one would disturb him or get hurt, but close enough that Dipper could find his way back without trouble if something went wrong. He was hoping his possible partner wouldn’t recognise their surroundings though, as things could end up going seriously wrong otherwise.

The path was long and windy, its twists and turns also proving to be a bit of a challenge at times. Halfway through said journey, it began to be a little too dark for Dipper’s tastes, so he whipped out a quick flashlight from his blazer pocket and continued on his trek undeterred. By the time he had arrived at the final place for his plan, it was around 8 pm and a continuous run would take him around half an hour of praying that he wouldn’t trip without his light before he got back to the Shack.

Despite this backup plan though, he was hoping that he wouldn’t have to use it, after all, he was tired of hiding what others thought was him getting into the mood of Halloween, tired of feeling the constant burning and prickling of his skin every time it brushed up against anything. He may have been able to bandage some things up, but others were impossible without anyone finding out. Which was why he was hoping for a quick get-out-of-jail-free card with what he was about to do.

Clearing his throat, Dipper opened his bag took out the second journal and flipped over the page that Gideon had taken out of the book which had been half-heartedly taped back together by himself. Bill Cipher’s summoning page… The one he’d used to get Bill to go into Stan’s mind all those years ago. There had been no word of Bill since their final battle, but Dipper had always had this distinct feeling that he’d never truly left. Surprisingly Stanford had lost that feeling, but Dipper thought it more of a relief after reading how badly the demon had affected the other’s mental health.

Shortly after this, he began to set things up, such as getting the most recent picture of himself that he could find that he had scribbled his eyes out with, setting up the eight-candle circle formation and placing the picture in the middle. After quickly lighting them all up, Dipper stepped back with his mask being kept on and he began to read from the book using his flashlight.

“Triangulum, Entangulum. Meteforis Dominus Ventium. Meteforis Venetisarium!” He spoke, looking down at the circle with anticipation. From the little holes of the mask, Dipper’s eyes began to light up as he began to speak seemingly gibberish as a triangle began to appear inside of the circle. Once the light inside of the brunette’s eyes had subsided, he looked over in front of him to see the triangle, the myth, the legend… He had to gulp in the nervousness that coursed through his veins.

“Well well well well well well well! What do we have here?” Bill asked, looking around and quickly realising where they were. Dipper kept silent as he watched the other look around before finally having his eye land on the brunette himself. “Well… I was expecting you the least Pinetree after what happened last time,” Bill spoke loudly, laughing to himself in the way that always made Dipper’s skin crawl in hatred before. Things hadn’t changed.

“Yeah well, when you have to be called as my last option, things are getting pretty dire,” he snapped, looking for pure hatred, although Bill wouldn’t have been able to see it past the mask. “Yeah yeah, how long has it been Pinetree? You’ve had quite the growth spurt since I last saw ya! And where’s Shooting Star? Surely she would be here! Unless… She doesn’t know what’s going on,” Bill guessed. Dipper decided to just ignore the demon’s attempt at angering or making him uncomfortable, so he decided to answer his first question.

“It’s been about eleven years since you were last here,” he sourly replied, crossing his arms as he watched the demon. “So, what do you want Pinetree? For a price of course,” Bill replied, his voice as high pitched as it always had been, scratching just the one itch that Dipper hated to be itched. “Well… I need you to fix something,” he awkwardly began, putting a hand on the back of his neck as he moved positions to one of discomfort.

“Whatcha want fixing? Is it a body part? Is it something you got in that bag? A relationship?” Bill suggested, trying to probe and prompt the other. Dipper sighed and kept his head away from the other. “I think it would just be easier if I just showed you,” he murmured, keeping his voice low. The demon put a hand out to tell the brunette he was ready, and with heavy hesitation, Dipper took his mask off.

What Bill had been expecting… Well, it was nothing like this. As the mask dropped, blood cascaded out, landing on the floor in front, almost landing on the other’s smart shoes. As the other looked up to see the damage, he almost felt a little shocked himself. It wasn’t a simple cut or two, no, it was something much worse. There was no skin where his face should be, the only bits left that could be represented as skin were limply hanging at the sides of his face, near to his cheekbones, where you could see a bit of bone peeking out.

With the skin torn off, his entire face was continuously bleeding, making it look like the other was crying non-stop, only the tears were blood and they weren’t just coming from the eyes. One of the brunette’s eyes was blind too, Bill noticed, as he got a little closer to examine his face. As he examined further, he could see that there was still a slash mark beginning from Dipper’s left eye, the blind one, to his bottom right chin and then even further down, although that wasn’t too visible due to the black suit that the other was wearing.

There were no lips, nor were there any cheeks. All you could see was Dipper’s teeth, half of a tongue and more bits of his skull. Bill couldn’t even pinpoint what could’ve done this in the forest. Bill moved back a little to give the other some space as he slowly watched the other. The demon got the distinct feeling that Dipper hadn’t told a soul about his face, or what had happened. Why else would he be here alone in the dark?

“How did you manage to keep that a secret?” Bill blurted, instead of the fairly obvious ‘How are you still alive being a mortal flesh bag?’. Dipper turned and took the mask back off the floor, and the demon watched closely as the small bits of flesh that were still hanging on by a thread moved fluidly with each movement the other took.

“I’ve been using this mask, I kept putting tissues and gauzes there to try and lessen the damage, but that ended up just making it worse,” Dipper explained, showing the mask insides. It looked as though it had been painted a light shade of red, but Bill knew it was stained instead of painted. The entire show had taken Bill off-guard, and he’d completely forgotten that he wasn’t here to just examine the other’s blatant wound.

“So erm…. Do you think you’d be able to fix it?” Dipper meekly asked. He would’ve looked cute if it wasn’t for his face being torn apart. Bill thought to himself for a moment as he watched the other. He could do his thing and purposefully screw Dipper over… Or he could put his revenge plan into motion… Suddenly, it had been decided. Bill got closer to the male before talking, wanting to see every emotion that was visible in… the mess of a face the other held.

“Well, that depends, what do you have to offer?” Bill asked, giving the other a grating laugh as he stayed close to the brunette. If it was possible to show disgust, Dipper was pulling that face. He hadn’t brought anything. He had been hoping that Bill would do something like curse him to get payback whilst also sorting out his face. Not this.

As Dipper reflected on his idiotic hopes, however, he realised where he had misplaced his hope. After the last time with his body, he should have known that the other wouldn’t have been that nice. “I can get you something from Ford’s lab,” Dipper offered, feeling hesitant about the proposition. In reality, Dipper was ready to give anything away to fix his face. No one had known he’d had it torn off, and he felt desperate to fix it before they got suspicious.

“Mighty offer to me Pinetree, but I was talking something better than that,” Bill murmured, chuckling shortly after. What could he possibly want that was better than Ford’s inventions? Some of those things could seriously damage a creature. Sighing, Dipper kept his eyes away from the demon as he briefly thought of what could be better, only for his mind to come up with nothing.

“Well…” Dipper awkwardly began, turning back to the demon. “What do you want if it’s not Ford’s things?” he questioned, his voice heavily hinting at his exasperation. Bill hummed momentarily and circled Dipper as he did so. This was very unnecessary as the demon already knew what he wanted, this was more for dramatic effect because, of course, Bill would do that.

“Make me a body and I’ll fix your face. It has to be tonight because I don’t see how you can last much longer Pinetree, and I’ll help you to make sure you aren’t giving me a worthless piece of meat,” Bill spoke, watching the other with his singular eye. Even though the triangle could not smirk due to his lack of features, it was clear that he sounded very smug about his side of the offer. He also knew under these circumstances that it was highly unlikely for the other to turn him down.

The demon was right on both accounts. Dipper had been surviving off of some drugs he’d found in Ford’s basement, some extra blood packs he’d pushed into his body and trying to fix his face (although that’d only made it worse and caused his life expectancy to go down by a couple of days). The other thing the demon was right about was that Dipper would take this offer because it was the only option he had.

Not telling anyone about the situation and knowing that no doctor would probably be able to fix his face and make sure he didn’t die at the same time meant that he had been efficiently backed into Bill’s corner. Not that this wasn’t already the case before he summoned Bill. Dipper cleared his throat as his mind swirled with possible questions to ask the other. If this was physically possible in any way, then he’d have to do it.

“I need to have some clarifications first,” Dipper mumbled, subconsciously playing with his hands as he spoke. As he partially looked down on himself, the blood from his face began dripping onto his black suit. Some of it also went onto his hands, making the anxious movement a little slippery as he continued to awkwardly play with his hands.

“Please do go on Pinetree,” Bill offered.

“First, will you temporarily fix my face to do the job easier of making the body?” He questioned, moving his hand to touch his face. He stopped just before he touched it, however, thankfully avoiding any infections he might receive from mixing opened flesh with all of the bacteria he held on his hands. “Of course, don’t want you bleeding all over my body, do we?” Bill let out his grating laugh as he finished his sentence, obviously finding this extremely funny.

“Okay then… How are we going to make this body?” He uneasily replied. Watching the triangular being get momentarily confused. “What d’you mean Pinetree? How do you flesh bags usually make another version of yourselves?” Bill asked, his eye frowning a little. Oh. Oh. He didn’t know. Of course, he wouldn’t know… He had been partners with Ford and the male had never been and never would be interested in having children of his own.

“W-well… I’m not sure you want to be in a baby Bill, I thought you wanted an adult body,” the other blurted, feeling embarrassed. As the other felt quite uncomfortably red-faced, some bloody genuinely came to where his cheeks should have been. But as there was no skin there to keep it from going everywhere, the extra blood being pumped to flush his cheeks only pushed out of his body and onto the grass in front of him. The only reaction this caused out of the demon was a cackle at the other’s misfortune. Dipper felt ready to put the mask back on.

Once the demon had calmed down from laughing at the other, moved a little to hover next to the brunette. “I suppose you’re right… Well, I’ll show you what to do then! I’m sure I’ll be able to use my magic to make a good human body,” Bill thoughtfully replied, putting a hand just underneath his eye as though it were a chin for the human body. Dipper kept his eyes away from the other for a moment as he quickly tried to get his blood off of his hands. Once he’d successfully gotten the majority of it off, he turned back over to the demon who’d been watching him closely.

“Deal then?” Dipper asked, watching the demon with his eyes, even if only one was currently working. “Deal,” Bill replied in his smug, grating voice. The demon put a hand out, it glowing in the blue flames the brunette remembered from their last deal from back when he was twelve. He moved and grabbed the other’s hand, shaking it properly. Then it was as though everything happened at once.

He felt a prickling begin in the hand that was shaking the demon’s and then all of a sudden, the prickling moved from his hand up into his face. The feeling caused the brunette to let go of Bill’s hand and take a step back. Everything got momentarily blurry from all sides. His nerves were buzzing, his screen was re-creating itself, and he felt a wave of energy hit him as his blood finally stopped leaving his body. He let out a small shiver once everything had begun to die down.

Blearily, Dipper moved hastily towards his bag which he’d left on the floor to try and grab the mirror he’d brought. He was walking like a man who’d drank way too much, but he didn’t care, he needed to look at what Bill had done, just in case it was wrong. Once he’d shoved his hand down into the bag, he quickly found what he’d been looking for and awkwardly got up, moving it in front of himself. As he began to stare at himself, he heard Bill chuckle to his side.

Everything was how it had been before, except for one detail. He was still blind in one eye. Even worse than that though, Bill had left a scar around the eye. The creature that had gotten him had three claws and those three had sunk into his face fairly quickly yesterday, but now one of those claws was showing on his face. It gave more the impression that he’d gotten into a swordfight than one with a creature three times his size.

Dipper turned to the demon with raised brows. “Will you get rid of this when I make your body,” he questioned, touching it lightly as he put the mirror back into his bag. Bill only shrugged, not giving a clear answer. The brunette put his hand on his face and sighed. Well, at least he’d live like this. “Right erm… Where do we start?” The human awkwardly asked, watching the demon carefully.

From there, the rest of Halloween became a blur. It was first a gathering of objects, a gathering that led to the death of two deers, visiting a graveyard, and the statue of Bill that had been left behind shortly after Weirdmageddon. There had been other objects, but those had been the most difficult to find and execute. After grabbing everything that was needed, it needed to be placed in a specific place around the small outline of a rather lanky male Bill had made in the mud just in front of his statue.

This had ended up taking another hour of messing around with the objects, as Bill had been rather specific about what had to be where. After all of that, Bill had told him to go back home and rest up, as he’d come over tomorrow. Dipper had questioned the other’s method, but Bill had given affirmation that Bill just needed some time to conjure the magic and work out all the kinks of the human body before they saw one another. Shrugging, the brunette left, knowing the quicker way back to the Mystery Shack from Bill’s Statue.

He put his mask back on due to the scar on his face and shuffled back inside, trying to be as quiet as he could getting back into his bedroom. Thankfully, everyone had either been asleep or in the basement, so no one had heard his reappearance. He had managed to even get comfortably in bed and asleep without issue, despite the events that had occurred earlier that very day. What did end up bothering him though, was when Mabel crashed into his room first thing in the morning after him not appearing back home before she had.

“Dipper? Dip-Dop?” Mabel shouted, running into the room and to the bed. The male could only groan out in exasperation at her loud behaviour. He covered his face due to the light, not even thinking about the scar that was still very much present across his eye. “Where did you go last night? I went looking out for you for a whole hour! Grunkle Stan and Ford said they hadn’t seen you since you left!” Mabel complained, shaking her brother in an attempt to wake him up further.

“Mabel, leave me alone,” he groaned, curling up a little bit. He moved a little, letting his arm fall limp and suddenly there was a loud gasp from his sister. That, was when he bolted up and stared at her, suddenly realising the situation. “Y-you’ve got a—!” Dipper crashed his hand onto her mouth to muffle her words, he didn’t want her to say it. Not right now.

“Shhh, Mabel please, don’t tell them about it!” He whispered to her, although it sounded a lot more as if he were talking normally than whispering to her. Dipper quickly moved his hand away from her mouth and she stared at him, genuinely shocked by the scar on her brother’s face. “But… You’re blind in that eye! What happened Dipper? When did that happen?” She asked, grabbing her brother’s arms and shaking him in a fast and seemingly uncomfortable manner.

Suddenly, there was a loud shout from Stan downstairs about someone being at the door for Dipper and the brunette’s blood ran cold. Mabel stared at him for a long moment and then they were both scrambling to get downstairs the fastest. The female brunette wanted to get there to see who was calling for him so early, and if it was a date, and Dipper wanted to make sure that Mabel and Bill didn’t see each other.

Unfortunately due to the situation of the male brunette still being in bed and Mabel not, it meant that she got to the door first and the blonde almost mistook her for Dipper at first glance. Mabel looked the blonde up and down briefly before stepping back, unintentionally allowing Dipper to step in front and slam the door behind him. He was sure if he and Bill didn’t move now, Mabel would surely try and rejoin the conversation.

The brunette turned to look at the man in front of him for his jaw to drop. Instead of a weird nerd or awkward man like he’d been expecting, or even the demonic version of a human with horns and sharp teeth that gave people nightmares, Bill looked like a beautiful angel. His blonde hair was fluffy to the point that even Dipper wanted to put his hands in it, then there was the beautifully tanned skin and the wonderfully blue eye that reminded him of the sea… Then it was the slightly filled lips, they weren’t too big, but they were plump enough to make Dipper shiver.

Bill had also dressed nicely as well, but that had always been expected, more because the demon always wore a bowtie. It had always given the impression that he’d wear a suit or something similar if he ever were to become a human. The other had also covered one of his eyes with an eyepatch that reminded him of a pirate, but he supposed there were not many ways to not look like a pirate with an eyepatch on your face. Far away, there was the noise of a door opening and the murmur of noises next to him, but Dipper wasn’t listening, from the sight in front of him… Well, there was nothing else to think about.

That was, of course, until Mabel pushed him out of the trance he’d fallen in. “Dipper!” He heard her cry as he regained his stability. Warily, he looked over to his sister, who looked… Excited? Why on earth was she so excited? “I’m sure he’s just a bit surprised since we last saw each other in the dark,” Bill replied, a small chuckle leaving him. The brunette had to stop a small shiver from going through his spine. That voice was not Bill’s. That voice wasn’t unnaturally high-pitched or grating when it laughed. It reminded Dipper of soft and smooth honey, the type you get new from a store.

“Y…Yeah,” Dipper muttered, turning to look at Bill briefly again. Bill smirked something that he expected to see often if Bill was planning on staying around. “What’s your name anyway?” Mabel asked, glancing between the two with a smirk of her own. She could easily read Dipper like a book, hence she knew exactly why he wasn’t talking very much.

Bill eyed Dipper momentarily as if he were trying to figure out whether he should fake his name or not, but when he realised the brunette was intentionally ignoring him, he turned back to Mabel with a naturally fake smile. “Bill! Nice to meet you…?” The demon replied, raising the only brow that could be seen. “Mabel Pines! I’m Dip-dop’s twin sister,” she said with pride. Bill nodded a little and put out his hand for her to shake.

The immediate realisation that they were going to shake hands immediately brought him back to the night before with his face and very quickly he could feel the blood drain from his face. He felt conflicted as he stared at the singular hand. Should he try to stop it just in case? Unfortunately, though, Mabel was a bit too quick for Dipper to have an existential crisis about the entire thing, as she shook his hand without any hesitation.

There were not any blue flames, but the brunette could’ve sworn that Bill had done something.

“You don’t know any movies?” Bill whined, sitting on the couch in a jumper that reminded Dipper greatly of his triangular form from years ago. Bringing a coffee and orange juice to the table, the brunette shook his head and sat down, giving the demon his orange juice. “But you looked so good! If these movies are supposed to be scary, then why don’t they have any with people’s faces chopped off?” Bill asked unhappily as he went through the selection they had on Netflix.

“Look, why don’t we find something new to watch as a TV show?” Dipper asked, holding his coffee cup for warmth. Bill let out a low hum as he began to go through the TV show section, specifically listing all the horror TV shows. “Look, why don’t we play a game instead of watching something?” Dipper asked, glancing warily over to the demon. He only let out a soft chuckle at the other’s hesitance in watching something to do with Horror.

They then stopped on what appeared to be a show about Cannibals, with the show conveniently being named ‘Hannibal’. That was right up Bill’s alley for their Halloween evening. Dipper was never letting the demon be in control of the remote ever again. The demon was quick to put it on and get settled down, drinking his orange juice from time to time.

When they began it was early during the day and it was still light out, but as it got later and later, darker and darker, Dipper began to feel more disgusted and on edge the further this went on. It had gotten to a point where he was trying not to listen about it either since it just made him feel that sick. There was a certain time during season two that Dipper decided he’d try to listen and watch the show again, but it was possibly one of the worst times he could’ve begun watching once more.

He saw someone begin to chop off their nose and suddenly his stomach turned upside down. He quickly faced away, moving to stare at the wall behind Bill’s head instead, but that was the wrong option because moments later, there was a loud bang against their window in real life. Dipper screamed and fell off the couch, landing on the floor back first. If Bill hadn’t felt a little shocked himself, he would’ve laughed loudly at his roommate’s misfortune, but the only thing that left the demon was a small chuckle instead.

Bill himself quickly got up from the couch and paused the show, walking to the front door rather quickly. Without hesitation, the other opened the door and began to look around for what could have caused such a loud noise against their window but not break the window. Dipper quickly got up and sat down, clearing his throat as he settled down and ignoring looking at the TV.

The next thing Dipper knew however was Bill bringing in a little cat from outside. Instantly, Dipper furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. The demon looked over briefly to Dipper before looking back down to the cat and sitting down with said cat on his lap. It had barely past the age of one by the looks of things with its small body. Yet, both men could tell it desperately needed a proper wash as its hair was matted and covered with mud.

“Is that..?” Dipper questioned, keeping his voice low. Bill nodded, confirming this was what crashed into their window while watching the TV show. Dipper huffed a little as the small cat found its way onto his lap and dirtying his legs, for he only had shorts on that didn’t go far down his legs. “Seems it likes you,” Bill murmured, seeming rather genuine with his comment. Dipper only hummed in response, unsure of what to do with the little furball. Should they clean it first? Take it to the vet? Give it food and water? It seemed rather content to stay on the male’s legs.

“What are we going to do with it?” Dipper asked instead, patting the cat’s head softly. Bill hummed momentarily before getting up again and leaving Dipper with the cat. The brunette let out a small sigh, but he knew the other was probably just trying to get something to help do something with the cat. About a minute later, he was proven right as he sat Bill entered their living room with a big towel. Very quickly, he scooped up the cat in his arms and the towel and started to gently scrub and carry the small creature, getting rid of any loose mud that he could.

“Thank you,” Dipper murmured, looking at the two. Bill shrugged.

“It’s nothing Pinetree, I was thinking we bathe the cat to see if it has anything bad on it before we do anything you humans would deem drastic,” Bill spoke, rolling his eyes at the way he knew humans reacted over the little things. The brunette would have been offended if it weren’t for the fact he knew the demon was quite right. Mabel started overreacting if someone hurt her nails, and he knew that he got quite uptight with his book collection if someone tried taking a book.

“Alright then, let’s get the bath running,” Dipper announced and began walking away from the living room, relieved that they could stop watching that god-awful show. From a room or two away as Dipper turned the taps on for the water, he could swear that Bill was babying the cat and giving it his high-pitched ‘this is a cute thing’ voice. The brunette merely shook his head and made sure the small bath was hot enough for the small cat before turning the water back off.

Once Bill heard the tap turn off, he brought the small one in and gently put it inside the water. Very quickly it began to meow and shake in the small tub. Dipper, who was closest and sat down next to the bath, began to try and bathe the small kitten, but the smaller only took this as a threat and bit Dipper to the best of its abilities. Dipper swore and tried to retract his hand, but the little cat only clung onto the brunette and grabbed onto his face when it lost perch of his hand.

A slight swearing suddenly turned into screaming as he felt a claw inside of his already damaged eye and then the feeling of some skin being torn off of his face. Very very quickly, Bill yanked the cat off of Dipper, but it was only a detriment as the cat somehow managed to yank Dipper’s eye out of where it should have been whilst it let go of the rest of Dipper’s face.

Almost immediately after the cat had been taken off of the brunette’s face though, Bill got to work with his magic and replaced said eye, although he did leave it blind. The horrifying pain that he had felt merely moments ago that had been bad enough to push Dipper into shock was suddenly gone. That in of itself made Dipper feel dizzy off of a mixture of emotions. His entire body felt tingly, reminiscent of the time that the demon had originally fixed his face.

“Pinetree, you okay?” Bill asked, filling the brunette’s limited vision. Not that Bill didn’t have limited vision either, he had just never experienced having two eyes before, so it wasn’t a pain to him. “I’ll be fine after I calm down with some coffee,” Dipper mumbled, putting a hand over his blind eye. The demon took a step or two away to assess the damage across the room. There was blood everywhere, mixed with little bits of skin that the small cat had been playing with whilst the entire scene had been going on, it looked like someone had been seriously hurt in here.

Sighing, Bill tried to ignore the sight for now and helped the brunette get up. “Let’s get you to bed, then I’ll finish sorting out that cat,” Bill murmured, watching the other closely. Dipper merely hummed and looked down to assess the damage himself before looking over to the small cat. It was playing with Dipper’s eye.

The brunette choked on air and Bill quickly changed the direction the other was facing and got him out of there quickly. That might have been a bit too much gore for someone tonight.

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remyfire · 1 year ago

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A kiss to the inner thigh and whatever other kisses you feel like adding- Charles/Hawkeye

(WE FINALLY DID IT, EVERYBODY, baby's first hawkchester.

I rolled one more for you, so you get! A tentative kiss! I couldn't resist that. I haven't written hawkchester until now because Charles intimidates me so much as a character, but I'm steadily gaining confidence in his dialogue. So hopefully more of them soon!)

"Charles, do I ever ask you for anything?"

"Around seven-point-six times a week, on average," Charles drawls as he turns the page of his medical journal, never once glancing away from the page.

"How's that even figure out?" Hawk demands from behind him. "You don't have the numbers. When's the last time I asked?"

Still, he doesn't spare Hawkeye so much as a glance. "This morning, you told me to budge over so you and Hunnicutt could share your inane little quibbles about the duty roster."

"That doesn't count. That's barely—I-I would've asked anybody for that. That's not a you-specific thing."

"Yesterday, you needed to borrow my pen."

"To write on a chart!" Hawk exclaims, sweeping his arm through the air. "Is it my fault my pen ran out of ink?"

"A true professional," Charles intones dramatically, "would never be without a spare."

"Y-You're so—"

"And, for that matter, a man who swears his devotion to the medical practice must be prepared to tend to his duties." Charles finally gives one single look over his shoulder, viewing Hawk from the corner of his eye. "Not scheduling his rendezvous during his assigned shift in post-op."

Hawkeye circles around to Charles's desk and slaps his hand on the surface to head off his point. "It's with Gwen. For the love of God, how many times do I have to miss a date with Gwen before one of you assholes gives me a break?"

Charles, it appears, is utterly unimpressed, simply staring up at him as he clicks his tongue. "Steady. If you spend so much of your time disappointing women..." He considers, glancing toward the wall of the tent. "Mm. On second thought, if we consider the gossip..."

The nerve of him. Though he knows full well words like that are only used to wind him up, the bite of acid stings his tongue all the same. "Hah. Right. Like you're hearing a single word on the gossip train when the nurses won't even give you the time of day."

It's frankly insulting that Charles could sting Hawk like that, then look so completely unaffected by a returned barb. He doesn't even reply. Just goes back to his academic reading like, like he's...

All right. It's not the first time Hawk's had thoughts about him. Notions, even. It was those same mental experiments that led Hawkeye down interesting paths with Trapper, for instance, ones that served them both exquisitely well for the time they had together. He's run games like that with plenty of men—with MPs, aid station medics, and that one extremely interesting occasion with Scully—but he'd never felt bold enough to actually make a move on someone like Charles.

Because it would make sense, wouldn't it? How quickly him and Margaret fizzled out, if they even started down a path together at all. His trouble with finding evening companionship that will have him. God, Charles is in his cot every fucking night, just like BJ, and with a hell of a lot less incentive to be there.

So he...he wonders. He thinks about it sometimes. He...

Yeah. Yeah, okay, he would. Hawk would, absolutely, even if just to push his buttons. To tug strings.

In moments like this, when a concept grabs him, Hawk has trouble surfacing from it, gets so tightly caught in a loop that barely five seconds have gone by, and yet he's spent a lifetime wonderingwonderingwondering, and he's tapping his foot, and he's drumming his fingers on the desk, and—

"What if we make a deal?" Hawk asks.

"You have nothing that could possibly interest me," Charles replies.

Hawk's mouth waters. He swallows. "You haven't even heard my offer."

"Because I already know that it will not interest me."

Undeterred, chest tight, Hawk circles around behind his chair. He grabs the back of it and with all his frail little might, he manages to drag it back a couple of inches.

Charles splutters. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Presenting my case." Hawkeye even manages to sound unstrained, miraculously—he hopes, at least. As he comes back around, there's just enough room to bump past Charles's knees, meet his eyes, and sink down to the floor.

There's such a radical moment of stillness from Charles that Hawk could almost believe that time might've come to a stop. It's not rare to see Charles completely absorbed in his passions, unmoving as he appreciates them with a depth that Hawkeye will sometimes catch himself watching endlessly in return, but this is quite different. It's like for the very first time, Charles is seeing something about Hawkeye, and his body has frozen to allow his racing mind to catch up.

Hawk laces his hands around Charles's calves, giving them a slow rub up and down along rough fatigues. They're not as soft as he might expect when compared to the man's more plush thighs and round stomach. No, there's a rock hard strength in them just like the nurses, like Colonel Potter and BJ both. As much as Charles could be read as a man of utter luxury, he works as hard as the rest of them. He doesn't shirk his duty.

Almost regrettably, Hawk admires that.

He travels higher, easing Charles's legs a little further apart, but he doesn't look down at his goal yet. He already knows he's going to enjoy this—takes a personal pride in his excellent service in this regard. He's very oral. What can he say?

But while Hawk's well familiar with how men will sweat or squirm or even grab him and yank him toward their cock, Charles simply watches him, brow furrowing, like he's...what? A puzzle that needs to be solved? Or an ant crawling up his pant leg?

Hawkeye's mind still hasn't slowed. He was counting on getting his mouth on Charles's dick to make that part happen. But now it rushes ever onward, wondering if it's maybe kind of a shitty sign that he can't read Charles's curiosity from his disdain, and wouldn't that be unfortunate? If not even Hawk's particular skill at pleasing a man could make someone like this—who views everyone around him as imbeciles—thaw?

Somehow he hadn't considered the possibility that after all these months of Hawkeye's irritation beginning to melt into some degree of respect, perhaps Charles still saw Hawkeye as a boy playing doctor, and nothing more.

Hawk's breathing a little too fast now. He gulps down his sudden trepidation as best as he can and leans in, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of Charles's thigh. There's an interesting flutter of eyelashes above him, which seems promising, but the second he glances down, he sees...nothing. Not even the slightest hint of arousal. And he's thinking far too fast for the possibility that he might just need to tease him a bit more.

He knows what he is. Knows the picture he presents. He's pretty enough to be a girl, but his facial angles are masculine enough to be a boy. He can play whatever role someone might need. But he never foresaw the possibility that someone might not want either.

Fingers suddenly find Hawkeye's hair, and they thread through the strands with an elegance that he's unfamiliar with feeling during this act, the kind that half-makes Hawk want to spit on him. It wouldn't take much to read condescension in the gesture. On any given day, it all but drips out of this man's every pore. "Pierce, perhaps these methods are all it takes to sway your endless revolving door of lovers to your whims. But on me, you'll find it's quite ineffective."

Hawk rolls his eyes. Tends to the faint slice through his ribs, the one that nicks the edge of his heart. No, yeah, he realizes that. There's not a bit of lift to be seen. It's actually hilarious how the insult hits him faster than the fear which should rise to the surface. If he just made a move on a normal fellow—completely misread his suspected proclivities—then he could have a hell of a lot more to lose than just a midnight tryst with Gwen.

"I do admit I find your eagerness to sell yourself quite interesting," Charles murmurs.

Hawk sinks his fingers into Charles's pillowy thighs as leverage to start standing up. "You about to take lessons from Sidney?"

Charles tuts out a little laugh. "Oh, hardly." But suddenly his hand shifts, his broad palm dragging over Hawk's cheek, and the intention and warmth there bring him to a sudden stop when they're at eye level. Charles shakes his head with amusement beaming from his eyes. "I have no use for that variety of, ah, pseudoscience."

The interwoven combination of annoyance and attraction strikes him again. "And I'm sure he's crying himself to sleep over it every night."

For once, Charles doesn't have an immediate retort. He tilts his head to the side, and as his glimmering gaze traces along Hawkeye's face, he can feel every inch as he covers it.

"Try not to take it personally, Pierce," Charles finally murmurs. "I'm so rarely stirred at all. Even your best efforts would serve little purpose."

It's interesting that he won't drop it. Hawk chews on his bottom lip thoughtfully, and when Charles's eyes leap to that action, his heart rate skyrockets. As they watch each other, focused on different facial quadrants, an interesting fact occurs to Hawkeye that he can't help but mention. "So why are your cheeks getting so red?"

Charles huffs. His eyebrows rise. "Unfortunately, you are mistaken. See, Winchesters never flush, we—"

As Hawkeye bobs forward, Charles goes deathly silent. Hawk waits. He looks for any feasible sign that he's making a mistake. But when no snide comment is forthcoming, he leans in far slower, and when Charles doesn't so much as move the hand off of his jaw, Hawk settles his weight gently with fingers on his other forearm.

The kiss is gentle. Honestly, it's one of the sweetest that Hawkeye can remember giving in recent memory. And when Charles's mouth doesn't even slightly move beneath his, Hawk pulls back, hesitant, hovering an inch away as he sucks in a deep breath and forces himself to meet those blue eyes.

Charles's lips part. "I..."

"Yeah?" Hawk coaxes quietly.

Charles clears his throat. He shakes his head a little, as though clearing it, then speaks just as softly. "I'm unable to fill your shift for you."

Right. Right. This is a deal. They're bargaining, and Hawkeye is losing. He'd forgotten that part. Forgotten Gwen. Forgotten where they even fucking are. He gives a tiny nod. "Uh-huh." And his mind returns to running rapid calculations for exactly how much trouble he might be in as he continues to stand back to his full height.

"Are you on duty next Saturday night?" Charles asks.

Hawk feels almost dizzy with how much he might've just fucked up his life, and for what? For a pair of pretty eyes? For a brilliant mind and words that so often taste like vinegar? He's a fool. "No," he just barely manages to say.

"Neither am I."

Hawkeye starts to walk away, then pauses. Blinks. He slowly turns on his heel. "Oh yeah?"

Charles doesn't look at him as he returns to his journal. "Quite."

Three long seconds pass. "That's interesting."

"Mm."

C'mon, Hawk wants to say. I just tried to blow you and you barely reacted. I just kissed you and you didn't kiss me back. You can't make me do everything.

But his fingers are tingling. And if he had patience before this war, it vanished barely a week in. Hawk chances, "So maybe we'll see each other."

"I'll be here," Charles simply replies.

Hawkeye huffs in shocked amusement. Okay, so apparently that's all he's gonna get. But it's...it's something, isn't it?

He hovers for a few moments more, staring at the back of the man's head, before he stumbles out into the camp, days worth of thoughts stampeding ahead of him. He's got one date to reschedule, and apparently he's got a new one he wasn't even fucking planning for with a puzzle he might never understand.

#hawkeye pierce #charles winchester #hawkchester #charhawk #my writing #ask meme answers #m*a*s*h

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