#just over the last couple months and she’s never ONCE offered to pay me back for a single one

[bondagebimbo]

LOVE when the pharmacy decides to fucking dick around with my meds so badly that now I’m off my mood stabilizer, my pain meds, and my fucking birth control (in a few days) because they’re insisting I should have extra fucking bottles of each one and I DONT because they don’t let me pick up more than a one month supply of narcotics at a fucking time so do explain where these extra bottles are, hmm ????? and they didn’t have enough caplyta ordered last time to even give me my usual 3 months supply of that so … ???? get your fucking heads out of your asses and give me the fucking meds you owe me ??? like ??? but I’m in a nasty headspace right now so if I call the pharmacy this morning, I’m going to be that cunt ass customer they bitch about all day because this isn’t the first time they’ve done this. in fact, the first time, they straight up committed insurance fraud by marking one of my scripts as filled and picked up WHEN, IN REALITY, THEY FUCKING LOST THE SCRIPT AND HAD NO RECORD OF IT BEING FILLED OR PICKED UP IN THEIR SYSTEM, BUT YET, MARKED IT AS SUCH AND CHARGED MY INSURANCE AN ALMOST 8 GRAND FOR THE FUCKING 3 MONTHS OF MY MOOD STABILIZER THAT I. NEVER. RECEIVED. I’m genuinely about to report this entire pharmacy to the pharmacy board because I’m so fucking done with this place. it needs to be shut the fuck down because you’re telling me, out of an entire pharmacy, y’all share the same IQ point AND dead brain cell, collectively ??? then don’t fucking work in healthcare where people rely on you to know your shit and keep track of their fucking meds because you’re just constantly making shit worse on people since you can’t seem to not fuck around with these meds and not ‘lose’ scripts. fuck out of here.

and I’m pretty much out of weed, which is usually my back up pain management method, without the money to afford a delivery order by their cut off time to order in 3 hours because I just paid my fucking bills and have SOME to go towards it, but not enough for delivery to be free, and I’d still have to walk my ass to one of the ATM’s nearby because they don’t accept my bank as a prepaid method OR any of the cards I have on my person. 🫠

I can literally feel my back spasming and seizing on and off while I’m laying on my fucking side, I’ve had a migraine with a stupid ass aura for almost a week now because chronic migraines fucking suck and i was REALLY hoping this one would be over by now, my muscle inflammations that my pain meds are supposed to limit are already beginning to start their itching deep in my muscles so soon they’ll blossom into a whole fibromyalgia fucking episode and become entirely inflamed, my joints in my hands fucking hurt because of the dreary weather so I really need to get into a rheumatologist at some point soon as well and get that shit figured out, I’m nauseas as fuck from all the pain, and I’m moody, hormonal, and just feel like fucking death physically.

I’m just. I give up.

this shit is exhausting and painful and so mentally fucking taxing to constantly deal with and I just want a fucking break from all this fucking shit. I wish I could just … not exist … for even just a little while with how fucking painful existing actually feels right now 🫠😭

[gloomwitchwrites]

Bar Crawl

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, dirty thoughts, flirting, alcohol, kissing

Word Count: 1.5k

On a night out, Kyle takes a chance and makes a move.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // summer 2024 masterlist

It’s late, and the alcohol is buzzing beneath your skin like a drone of angry bees.

You rarely go out with the rest of the SAS crowd. It’s not like you’re actually part of the organization. This is a simple transfer. A few months at the most before you head back home. And you’re not in the field anyway. You’re behind the desk, drowning in paperwork.

There is no bloodshed. No metallic tang with a burst of lead.

You only know ink, computer screens, and editing software.

This entire outing is a treat. A way to let loose. Something you haven’t really done since you set foot in England.

And it isn’t only a night out. Someone has their eye on you.

It’s subtle, and you don’t think anyone else notices. But you do. How could you not? Kyle Garrick—also known as Gaz—is incredibly handsome, and entirely sweet on you.

Right now, he’s across the pub with his team, a beer in hand. Captain Price and Sergeant MacTavish are talking while Kyle and Lieutenant Riley listen. While Kyle’s body is turned in their direction, his gaze keeps drifting. It floats away, landing on you every time.

At each meeting of your gazes, Kyle smiles. It’s not sweet exactly. It’s knowing. Nearly seductive. A teasing look from across the room. Perhaps Kyle is feeling the alcohol as you are. Feeling the heat and buzz beneath the skin. The growing sense of need that won’t seem to abate.

The pub is dark, and the lighting only comes from candles and small lamps on the walls. This place was once an old house, but the interior as been converted, and the rooms gutted. Most of the space is just a series of rooms packed with tables. The walls are covered in paintings and all sorts of oddities. It’s eclectic. Fun. But no one is really paying attention to the pub around them.

You really aren’t either. But you’re also not including yourself in the conversation around you. All you can think about is Kyle. He is absorbing into your blood just like the alcohol. Every time you glance away, you find him, no matter where he is in the room.

It is electric. Magnetic.

Building like a brewing storm.

Your heart is hammering. It’s so loud the rest of the pub seems distant. And Kyle is right there, as if you’re looking at him through binoculars. Everything is out of focus. Except him. Only him.

“Are you listening to me?”

You turn abruptly, and give your best smile to Jane, one of the secretaries. “Sorry,” you sigh. “A bit tired.”

Jane and the rest of the women are you nod in agreement. She brings her glass to her lips. “I hear that,” she mutters, taking a long drink, grimacing slightly as the glass returns to the table.

Work has been hell the last couple weeks. It’s a slew of never-ending paperwork. You’ve been stuck at a desk, pouring over reports, consuming more coffee than you probably should be.

A reply begins to form your lips, but then you hear your name being called in a voice you recognize. Everyone at the table startles, turning in the direction of the voice. For a second, you do not follow their movements, only staring down at the table.

But you hear your name again, and this time the urge to glance in Kyle’s direction is instant.

“Sergeant,” you say in greeting.

He grins at you, and then flashes that stunning smile at the women sitting around the table. “Don’t mind if I borrow her for a bit?”

“Not at all,” says Jane quickly.

The other women shake their heads, gazes astonished as you abandon your drink and take Kyle’s offered hand. While his hold is strong, there is gentleness there. You like it. You want to sink down into that feeling forever.

Kyle leads you out into a little hallway, and the clamor of the pub disappears slightly.

“Heard you’re leaving soon,” says Kyle, stepping to the side to allow an employee to pass.

It’s true. You likely only have a couple weeks left before you head home.

“Did you?” you ask. “Who from?”

You haven’t told anyone. Not really. But it’s not a big secret.

Kyle shrugs. “Does it matter?”

You mimic is shrug, and Kyle laughs softly. “Not really. This post was supposed to be temporary anyway. But you know that.”

Kyle shifts a bit closer. His heat is everywhere, warming your limbs. Kyle’s fingers playfully pull at the hem of your shirt. “Planning to leave without saying goodbye to your favorite sergeant?”

You lightly tug on his jacket in response. “Bold of you to think you’re my favorite.”

Kyle barks a laugh, and you smile demurely at your boldness.

This is nice. This is fun.

The two of you have always been a bit sweet on each other. Kyle is always making a point to come see you when he can. He knows your coffee order, and occasionally brought you snacks and lunch. The two of you would hang out and talk. He checks on you, and it softened you to him.

Eventually, you offered up a few kisses, and Kyle greedily seized them.

“Been kissing MacTavish?” asks Kyle.

“Maybe,” you tease.

Kyle tugs on your shirt, and the momentum brings you closer to him. “Maybe?” he replies, tone dropping to something dark and heated. His brow creases in the middle, and you suddenly sense a change in him. “You like his kisses better than mine?”

No.

But you haven’t actually kissed Sergeant MacTavish. He’s cute, but not your type. Kyle is. Kyle is who you want.

You shrug. “It’s been a while. Might need a reminder,” you say softly, leaning in.

The corner of Kyle’s mouth quirks with amusement. “You want to kiss me where everyone can see?”

“Nervous, Garrick?” you counter.

“Never,” smirks Kyle.

Then his hand is on the back of your neck. Kyle’s lips meet yours, and then you’re drowning in him, remembering all the ways you want to be with him.

Kissing isn’t enough. It’s not nearly enough.

You want this man between your legs, to know what he’ll feel like inside you, to have him own you body and soul. Kyle is who you’ve wanted these last few months, and all this flirting and tension has come to this.

The pub seems so distant. A far speck on the horizon. Just an annoying buzz in the background. Right now, all there is for you is Kyle. It’s delicious. Sweet, but with honey on the tongue. All those previous kisses were rather chaste and soft. This is nothing like those. It’s passion laced with salt.

These kisses drip with need, and you breathe it in, wanting more. The warm buzzing beneath your skin is transforming into an inferno.

Kyle pulls away, and you nearly stumble forward when he draws back. The loss of his lips is starling.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you all evening,” he says, voice husky.

You feel your cheeks heat. You’re suddenly hot everywhere. Burning internally. Ready to explode.

Glancing around, you find the hallway empty. But there are people nearby. Anyone could walk into this hallway and find the two of you wrapped in each other’s arms. While you want to take this further, you don’t want to do it here in the open where people can see.

Wanting Kyle is a deep desire that sits in your ribcage, but you do not want others to be part of this. This connection is only for the two of you.

Kyle’s hand brushes against your cheek, and he guides your gaze back to him.

“Want to get out of here?” he asks, as if reading your mind.

“And go where?” you laugh.

People expect the two of you to be present. But then again, the two of you have been at this function for over an hour. You’ve made a proper appearance. Do you really have to stay for the whole thing? Will anyone actually miss either of you?

“Wherever you want.”

“Wherever I want?” you ask, slightly confused. “You don’t want to stay here?”

Kyle shakes his head. “Fuck everyone else,” he says sharply. “This might be my last night with you. Want to make the most of it.”

It’s true. With everything going on at work, this might be the only time the two of you can properly have together before you’re sent home. You can get his number, but finding time seems daunting.

Kyle is giving you the rope, and all you need to do is take. To take the leap and trust him.

He draws you in for another kiss, and this one is slow and sweet.

“Let’s go,” you murmur against his lips.

He smiles, and you melt.

“Where to?”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@arrozyfrijoles23 @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @vrb8im

[pyramid-of-starrs]

congrats on 300+ followers🫶🏽

request: what about seongwha who's super soft spoken & the sweetest guy in front of everybody but when we're alone he's soooooo nasty and dominant it's something people never expect. "shy freak" persona

All Tied Up

Boyfriend Seonghwa x Afab reader

Summary: The universe blessed you with the best boyfriend to exist and everything is perfect but you can't help but to want more from your sweet boy

Genre: Fluff and Smut

Warnings: Dense acting Seonghwa (kinda lol), Technically trickery but you'll get it, nicknames

Smut warnings: Bondage, choking, drool, squirting, Oral sex (F receiving), mentions of losing virginity

A/N: Sorry I'm taking forever to finish this life kinda sucks :( but I only have 1 more to go for this event!

Minors dni

The amazing smell of chocolate and marshmallows along with the pleasant steam coming from the cup of hot coco in your hand started to hit your face. Both your gloved hands gripped the sides of the cups sleeve while you stood to the side for your boyfriend to finish paying for your drinks and snacks, he walked over with a bag of pastries and his own hot drink to convene with you again so you two could find an open table to sit down at in the crowded pop up cafe. You had been begging Seonghwa to take you to the temporary winter wonderland themed cafe for a few days since you thought it was cute that they had a mini ice skating area attached. He of course bought the tickets the day you asked and wanted to surprise you with a fun date over the weekend.

Once you two finally found a table that was a bit isolated in the corner you both sat down side by side and Seonghwa passed out the pastries he had bought, you couldn't make up your mind about what you wanted so he got 1 of each of the specialty baked goods, you felt bad he was always so willing to come out of pocket and buy you everything you wanted without hesitation but he always said he just enjoyed seeing you get what you deserved.

"Thank you Seonghwa! This is all too much though, you didn't have to do all this, or at least let me pay you back." you said as you sipped your hot chocolate trying not to burn your tongue.

"You know I would never ask you to pay me back my flower, just make sure you let me show you extra love later." He replied, you were offering to pay him back even though you only had lip gloss and a phone charger in your purse, but at least you offered, you knew no matter what he was going to take care of you. "Now let's enjoy the treats that we got, okay?" You nodded in agreement.

While you two were enjoying the pastries an older woman walked passed, and stopped. "What a beautiful young couple you two are." she said warmly as she smiled at you both.

Before you could thank her Seonghwa started to reply.

"Thank you but the beauty comes from her, I'm just the guy obsessed with her." Seonghwa said as he returned a smile to the woman, your face got hot from the compliment.

"Oh, a gentleman too, you two are lucky to have each other." She chuckled before continuing to walk away.

Seonghwa and you waved her goodbye and you continued to eat the last of the chocolate croissant you had, you could see Seonghwa watching you eat and then he giggled, you looked over at him. "What?"

"It's nothing you're just so cute when you eat, you even got some chocolate on your cheek." He took a napkin and gently rubbed the leftover chocolate off your face, then gave your cheek a quick peck. "You're so cold my flower, why didn't you say anything? Here take my scarf." He removed his scarf from his neck and started to wrap it around yours.

"I didn't say anything because I knew you were going to do that, now what if you get cold?" You pouted as he finished tucking the scarf securely around your neck.

"I'll have my love to keep me warm, or something lame like that." He smiled at you warmly.

"You're right that was lame." You chuckled a bit, your eyes met for a moment before you two kissed. You and Seonghwa had been dating for a few months and the relationship couldn't have been better, he was kind to you and others, your parent's loved him, your friend's loved him, he was just the best spouse. The only issue was that you two were going on 7 months of being together and he still hadn't made a move toward sex. Though not having sex with you right away fit perfectly with his gentleman persona, but you had needs, it was nice that he wasn't rushing you into anything but you started to feel like a sex crazed animal at times because every small thing he did started to turn you on, his small acts of kindness, the way he talked, how he cuddles you on the couch while you watched movies, you two hadn't even French kissed yet and every time he licked his lips you just wondered how his long tongue would feel exploring your body. Seonghwa has never even spent the night at your house, you haven't even gotten to see him shirtless yet but you had a plan, if he was too much of a gentleman to make a move then you had no other choice but to take matters into your own hands.

"Y/N? You okay? You kind of zoned out there." Seonghwa asked.

"Huh? Oh, yeah! Uh, so since it's getting late I was thinking we could watch movies at your place or mine, maybe a christmas movie marathon ?" You presented the idea to him, this was going to be phase 1 of your plan to get into Seonghwa's pants.

Seonghwa finished his hot chocolate and smiled at you. "Sure that sounds fun, it got pretty dark anyways, we can head to my apartment." He started to gather all the trash to clean the table and you two headed out.

...

You two were on your second movie, it was getting pretty late at this point which was perfect, you could now move into phase two.

You fake yawned and stretched while Seonghwa held you in his arms. "Boy it got so late so fast, I sure am tired from all the fun today." You said in a fake sleepy voice.

"Yeah I guess you're right it is late, You want to grab your stuff so I can take you home?" He asked

"It's so late I'm sure you're tired, I can sta-"

"Oh, it's no problem you only live about 20 minutes away and I'm not tired at all." He smiled at you.

"O-okay well um sure... I guess you can take me." Damn Seonghwa and his care for you, just as you were gathering your things you both got an alert on your phones.

WARNING: EXTREME SNOW STORM IN YOUR AREA PLEASE BE ADVISED TO STAY OFF ROADS

"Oh universe you beautiful being, thank you for wanting me to get laid just as bad as me." you thought to yourself. "Look Seonghwa, looks like we have to stay here." You said to him, he walked over to his window and raised his blinds to reveal a whited out snow storm swallowing the streets.

"Hm, guess your right, are you comfortable with staying he-"

"Yes!" Seonghwa looked at you a bit taken aback from your speedy reply. "I mean... yeah I would hate to put you in harm's way to take me home." You smiled trying not to be suspicious.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow a bit as he noticed your strange behavior but he just brushed it off. "Right well I can grab you some extra clothes and a towel to shower."

"No need, I actually have some clothes in my bag." You said as you dug in your tote and pulled out some sleep clothing.

Seonghwa was wondering why you were carrying your tote instead of your normal purse and why it was so full. "You just so happened to have clothes in your bag today?" he questioned.

"Yeah, ya know, just in case I spilled something or tore my pants ice skating?" You said trying to get him not to suspect anything.

"But those are paja-"

"Anyways I'm gonna go get in the shower." You hurried to the bathroom to start the water, once inside you carefully took off your clothes and got into the shower. A few minutes passed and you heard a knock on the door. "Come in." you yelled out.

"Y/N I brought you a towel to dry off with and some lotion and an extra toothbrush, if you need anything else let me know okay?"

"Well actually I would love for you to wash my back, I can't reach it." For a moment there was silence. "D-did you hear me?" Silence again. "Seonghwa?" You asked, once you didn't get an answer you pulled the shower curtain back and saw that you were once again alone in the bathroom, the rushing water drowned out the sound of the door closing again, you heavily sighed in defeat and and finished your shower, you dried off, brushed your teeth and lathered up with your own lotion, it was vanilla cupcake scented like Seonghwa likes, he mentioned loving when you smelled like a bakery. You dropped your towel finally and pulled out your clothes from your bag, this definitely was going to seduce Seonghwa, a pair of short shorts with a white trim and a t-shirt of his he let you borrow and you never gave back and to tie it all together a blue and black lacey panty and bralette set you bought a while ago. You sprayed on your matching vanilla perfume and walked out the bathroom, you looked around and saw that Seonghwa wasn't in the living room anymore so you walked to his bedroom door and stood there. You had never even seen Seonghwa's room before now that you thought about it, you knocked and a few moments later the door opened revealing Seonghwa in his Animal crossing tee shirt and shorts.

"Y/N, you're finally done, sorry I was showering and getting something so I can sleep in the guest room, come in." You looked at him confused as you stepped in the room.

"Wait, you have a spare bathroom in here?" he chuckled at you.

"Yeah, I was going to let you use it, but you rushed to the guest one." He walked back over to grab a few things.

You watched him collect his items for a moment. "I like your pjs, they are adorable."

"Thanks, I got it as a gift from my friends." He glanced over at you. "I see we are both wearing my clothes." He giggled.

"Yeah sorry I meant to give it back but it's so cozy, If you want I could take it off." You said trying to throw a hint at him once again.

"It's fine, looks cuter on you anyways." He said as he pecked your cheek and headed for the bedroom door. "If you need anything just let me know okay? Goodnight Y/N."

"Wait! You know you don't have to sleep in the other room you could always... sleep with me, I would hate to put you out."

"It's no big deal, if it wasn't for this storm you'd be home in your bed alone, so it's the least I can do, night." and just like that he was gone, damn his gentleman ways.

...

You laid in his bed, alone, wishing he was next to you, holding the blanket, imagining being wrapped up in his arms while he kissed you softly, you wanted to feel him being so needy for you he is rutting his hard cock on your ass. The smell of his cologne on the sheets made the pit in your stomach hot, you slowly slid your hands between your thighs, you brushed past your heat, you needed his touch, you yearned for it. You wanted to know how he breathed while he made love to you, you imagined he was a gentle lover, slow and easy sex came to mind when you thought of Seonghwa, he was probably very closed off and vanilla and you would be lying if you said you didn't want to corrupt your sweet boyfriend. Then the thought that maybe he was inexperienced or scared, was he a virgin? You needed to know, you needed to find out and you were tired of being coy about it. You sprung out of Seonghwa's bed and headed to the guest room, you didn't even knock, you just entered, Seonghwa was in bed scrolling on his phone before he looked up to see you standing in the doorway.

"Y/n? Everything okay? Did you need something?" He asked as he put his phone down and sat up.

You didn't say a word, you got up and walked up to the edge of the bed, your thoughts were running rampant and you needed him more than ever.

"Y/N? Do you want something?" Seonghwa asked with a touch of concern in his voice.

"I want you Hwa..." You said as you got on to the bed, you crawled up the length of his blanketed body, he scooted back until his back was against the headboard, you stopped to sit on his legs. "If you're scared or never experienced this before it's okay, I can help you, I can teach you everything you need to know."

"Y-you will?" He said nervously, you nodded your head. "Is that why you've been acting weird, you wanted to... do that with me?"

You nodded again. "Only if you're ready."

"I am!" He nodded frantically. "Can we go back to my room?" you sat on the side to let him get up and he led you back to his room, it was cute honestly, he pulled you down onto the bed and got on top of you. Your eyes met before he placed his lips onto yours, kissing Seonghwa always gave you butterflies but this felt hot and passionate.

"I can touch and do whatever I want right?" He asked sweetly.

"Of course you can." You cupped his cheek. "Touch me as much as you want, you have my full permission, and we can go as slow as you need and I'll even help you." You wanted to be as helpful as possible, you didn't want him to feel like he was going in blindly.

"Really?" you nodded. "Okay well close your eyes and lift your arms" you raised your eyebrows in confusion but maybe he had something he had seen somewhere that he wanted to try, you obliged and lifted your arms and closed your eyes.

You couldn't see it but a devious smile was plastered on Seonghwa's face. "You know Y/N you really shocked me being so forward tonight." you could hear his night stand opening but chose to ignore it, that is until you feel a soft cotton tightening around both of your wrists. You got confused and tried to put your arms down but realized you couldn't, you tried again and your eyes shot open with Seonghwa laughing. You looked up to see black cotton cuffs bonding you to the bed, you looked back at Seonghwa confused.

"Aw look at the cute poor little confused look on your face, I almost feel bad for playing with you my flower." Seonghwa said as he sat on his knees in front of you.

"What do you mean playing with me? What are these cuffs?" You questioned.

He chuckled at your confusion again. "Sweetheart you didn't really believe I was some scared little virgin did you?"

"Well... yeah."

"How sweet, but sorry to break it to you, I'm not, but damn was it sexy to see you so willing to teach me how to fuck you properly, kinda wish I would have went along with it, but I could never lie to you."

"Wait then why have you never made a move on me? Even tonight when I was dropping hints you wouldn't budge."

Seonghwa sighed a bit. "Well, I try to stay true to being the proper gentleman I am, however the way I have sex... the things I like are everything but gentle. I know it can scare some women away and I really like you Y/N, so I figured I'd suppress my urges and very slowly reel you in after sometime but my naughty little flower just couldn't wait." He said as he pinched your nose playfully. "But with your full permission of course I'd love to show you somethings I like."

You could feel your core jumping with excitement at his question. "Yes, please show me Seonghwa." you said in a very needy voice.

He smiled at you. "Already so needy for me, let's get started.

...

2 thin pieces of rope were behind each of your knees to bind you to the bed along with your hands, your legs were nice and spread open while your bare pussy was on display for Seonghwa. He stood on his knees between your legs on the bed, all his clothes removed except his boxer briefs that left very little to the imagination, you averted your eyes to avoid his lustful eye contact. You jolted at the feeling of his fingers rubbing your wet core, whimpering softly every time he would lightly brush your needy nub.

"You're already so wet, you really were excited to teach me how to fuck you huh baby?" You said in a teasing tone, his two fingers started to slowly rub "O's" on your clit and you bit your lip to avoid moaning, he grabbed your chin to make you face him. "Y/N it's not nice to hold back, let me see and hear you while I make a mess of your pretty pussy." He let go of your chin then removed his fingers from your clit, he slid them into your while his thumb on his other hand rubbed your clit, you moaned while watching his slowly glide his digits in and out on you, the slow motion driving you crazy because you wanted more, he saw the lust in your greedy eyes and smiled. "My precious little flower, you look like you want to say something, what's wrong?" Again he was taunting you, he knew what you wanted, but he wanted to hear you beg more than anything.

"Please... faster." you couldn't handle getting your sentence out and before you could ask you started to rock your hips, grinding down on his fingers, not being able to do much with your legs being restrained. The burning urge to cum got worse as he started to move his fingers in and out while curling them up to stimulate your spot, louder moans fell from your lips.

"My little flower, please don't be rude, answer me with complete sentences only." His thumb started to flick your clit faster, your head dropped back at the teasing stimulation, you wouldn't be able to cum with him going so slow but it felt amazing, you just needed more.

"Please~ fuck me with ngh~ your fingers faster." you managed to say, Seonghwa didn't hesitate to drive his digits into you at a faster rate, he made sure to keep curling his fingers upward to keep tapping your gummy spot, your moans got louder the faster he went, you wanted to close your legs around his arm but again you couldn't, you just had to take it. The loud and obscene squelching noises and moans mixed with his groans could kill a nun, you felt your climax coming as the feeling in your stomach started to come. He never stopped flicking your clit and with his fingers so deep and beating your spot you had no choice but to have an intense orgasm all over him and his bed, perhaps too intense as you felt warm liquid on your legs, you looked down to see yourself erupting like a volcano. Embarrassment quickly filled your body as you never experienced squirting before.

"I-I'm sorry." You said, Seonghwa giggled at your embarrassment, he leaned forward to kiss you, the kiss was like a normal kiss he would usually give you, passionate and full of love, but during you noticed that his fingers started to move inside of you again, your moans being swallowed by him, you wanted to plead for him to stop but the feeling of being so sensitive due to over stimulation felt amazing, your hips once again started to buck up. He pulled back from the kiss and you immediately started to whimper.

"My sweet flower are you already coming undone for me? I still haven't even gotten to taste you yet." Your brain froze hearing the word taste as you knew exactly what was coming next, Seonghwa laid down in sniper position, his face inches away from your cunt. He kept his fingers inside while he attached his lips to your bulb, you yelled a string of curse words, your fingers and toes wiggled as your eyes rolled back, you wanted to push his head away, grip something, wrap your legs around his head, anything but again you just had to endure the overwhelming feeling.

"You're just as sweet as I imagined my love, I could spend the rest of my life drinking from you." He continued to finger you while his long tongue that you would day dream about for what seemed like hours lapped circles around your clit and occasionally licked stripes along your pussy. You were gasping as your second orgasm started to build up, Seonghwa's fingers never stopped, he started to leave kisses on your clit. "Can you cum for me one more time? I need to taste how sweet you are when you cum." Your legs started to quiver as he sped up the pace of his fingers, you started to see stars as you squirted again, you felt panic rush through you as you didn't want to squirt on his face but when you looked down you saw and felt Seonghwa drinking from you like you were a water fountain. Once you finally started to come down Seonghwa pulled his face out of your already fucked out pussy, your slick dripping from his chin as it covered his face from his nose down. Seonghwa wiped his face then freed you from your binds. As soon as you were free you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, a thank you for two of the best orgasms of your life.

His hands traveled up your body to finally remove the remainder of your clothing. "On all fours for me beautiful." Without question you turned around with your ass in the air, once again putting yourself on full display for him. "Can you put your arms back here for me?" He asked, you were curious about his next move but still obeyed. You laid your face on the pillow and put your arms behind you Seonghwa grabbed on and placed the cuff back on your wrist, this time he cuffed each of your hands to your ankles. He reached for the night stand again to get a condom and slide it down his shaft, you could feel his large hands grip your hips and put you in place, your back naturally arched as you prepared yourself for him. "Are you ready my love?" He asked.

"Yes, I need you so bad Seonghwa." You were eager to finally know how it felt to be one with him, he pumped himself a few times then placed his tip at your entrance, he slowly started to enter you, pulling back out then back in to feed you his length. It didn't take much for you to start to moan out for him to give you more of him, instead he went slow, he wanted you to feel every inch of him, enjoy every second of him fucking you until your mind broke. After a few moments he finally bottomed out inside of you, you had always seen prints of Seonghwa's dick through his sweatpants but you never truly knew he was this long, he reached the very back of your pussy with ease as your pussy started to squeeze him rapidly.

"You're squeezing me so tight baby fuck, I love how this pussy feels." He started to roll his hips while he was stationed deep inside of you, you could feel his dick in the pit of your stomach and with the position you were stuck in it felt like he was digging even deeper inside of you. Seonghwa finally pulled half way out then back in as he started to fuck his long dick into your pussy, the long awaited need to feel him inside you was over and it felt amazing. This wasn't what you expected but Seonghwa far exceeded expectations, he knew exactly how to fuck you like he had experience with your pussy exactly, he made sure not to pound into you but kept a fast and consistent speed, you couldn't think straight as you became cock drunk off of him. You had your cheek on the pillow as your eyes rolled back and you moaned loudly for him.

"Please don't stop, you feel so good Seonghwa." You gasped out, he was fucking you so good you could feel the drool leave your mouth and couldn't do anything about it. Seonghwa kept up his pace then the sound of Velcro ripping filled the room as he undid one of your cuffs then the other, you thought he was going to change positions but instead he grabbed you by your throat and lifted you off the bed, he kept his pace as his dick went even deeper inside of you, he attached his lips to your ear. "You're taking me so well baby." He said as he sped up, you whined in return. "My cute little flower all fucked out the first time taking my dick, poor thing." Him teasing you only added to your orgasm you could feel the pit in your stomach returning, he turned your head to the side as his hand squeezed your throat tighter, he placed his lips on yours, his tongue started to explore your mouth, the kiss was hot and wet, you couldn't hold yourself together anymore and covered his dick in your cum, only a few more pumps and Seonghwa released into the condom. Your body went limp in his hands as he laid you down on the bed gently.

You were shaking, your mouth covered with spit while your pussy was still pulsing, all you could do was breathe heavily, you didn't even notice Seonghwa left the room until he came back with something in his hand. He sat back on the bed and adjusted your legs for you to help clean you up, he then wiped the spit from your mouth and opened a bottle of water and put it to your lips. "Here drink." he slowly poured the cold water into your mouth as you sipped slowly like a baby kitten.

"Thank you." You said then sat up, just now realizing the bed was soaked. "I'm sorry about your bed..." You said still feeling a bit embarrassed. "I've never did... that before."

"You're being so shy for a girl that was offering to pop my cherry a while ago." He laughed while he finished the bottle of water he had and you nudged his shoulder.

"That's because I thought you were a scary little virgin or something, I didn't think you'd be some kind of sex wizard."

He nearly choked on his water laughing. "Not sure what a sex wizard is but I appreciate any compliment coming from you." He said as he leaned in to kiss your lips. "How about we freshen up and go to sleep in the guest room tonight?" You nodded your head, You and Seonghwa got cleaned up and then went to the other room, it felt nice to be cuddled up with him like this.

"So... did you like it?" he asked.

"I loved it." you quickly answered.

"Most of the women I've slept with don't contact me again after we have sex."

"Well 1 I'm your girlfriend 2 you'll probably have to get me to stop asking you for sex now."

He chuckled at you, then kissed your forehead. "Goodnight Y/N, I love you."

"Goodnight Seonghwa, I love you too!"

A peaceful silence filled the room.

"Can we fuck again in the morning?"

[reigningqueenofwords]

One Second, Sweetheart

Pairing: Dean x plus size!Reader Word count: 1,682 Warnings: Fatphobia Request: Can you do a request with Dean and the plus size reader where they go to a festival and she takes his snap back and he is just in awe but he gets mad when guys start saying mean things about her. She is in shorts and a tank top and he finally has enough and freaks out in the guy.

Read on AO3

Part 1 of Festival

You’d been looking forward to this weekend for months . Dean had gotten the pair of you tickets to a festival you’d been wanting to go to, but always came up with reasons not to. Finally, he bought them so there would be no more excuses. You’d bought a couple new outfits (you’d even splurged at Torrid!) just for the occasion, as well. 

He would be picking you up on Thursday night, driving most of the day Friday, and then checking into your hotel Friday night. You’d been the one to book that. There was no way you’d let him pay for everything! The festival would be on Saturday and Sunday, and then you’d be driving home Monday morning. Four days with your best friend. That you may or may not be in love with. Maybe. Not that you’d ever tell him that. 

Standing in your room, you looked over your bed. You were packing for your trip, and trying to make sure that you didn’t miss anything. “Outfit for Saturday, check.” You muttered to yourself. “Two outfit options for Sunday.” You went on. “Chub rub stick, deodorant, dry shampoo, makeup bag, a pair of cute shoes, a pair of comfy shoes…” You went on. “Why does it feel like I’m forgetting something?” You furrowed your brows. “Phone charger! Oh my God. How did I forget that?!” You went to grab your spare. The last thing you wanted was your phone dying. 

You grinned when you opened your door Thursday night. “Hi!” You let him in. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” He smiled. “Looking forward to this weekend?” He sure as hell was!

“I am. Four days with my best friend? Of course I’d be looking forward to it.” You teased. “Let me get my shoes on, and then we can go.” 

He motioned to the two bags by the door. “Just these two?” He asked, glancing at you. You simply nodded. “I’ll get these out to the car.” He lifted them without giving you a chance to protest. A moment later he was headed back out. 

You quickly got on your shoes, grabbed your phone and purse, and followed him out. Once your door was locked, you jogged out to the car. “Did you want me to drive first?” You offered. 

“Nah. I napped all day.” He shrugged. “You hungry?” He leaned on the top of the Impala, that knee buckling smile on his face. 

“I could eat.” You smiled, slipping into the passenger’s seat.

“That’s my girl.” He said proudly. 

Saturday morning, you were up early. Before Dean was up, you quickly got ready, and then went out to get the pair of you breakfast. Sure, you could have gotten something at the hotel, but you didn’t always like the options. So, you went down the road to a little cafe you’d seen. 

Twenty minutes later, you were walking back into the hotel room with breakfast and coffee. “Wondered where you went, sweetheart.” Dean spoke from the side of his bed. His voice still held the remnants of sleep.

“Was hoping to get back before you woke up.” You chuckled, setting everything down on the table. “I got you an egg, bacon, and cheese bagel, with a hashbrown.” You smiled. “And then a coffee.” 

“Smells amazing.” He got up to go sit with you at the table. “I’ll shower after I eat and then we can head out. Sound good?” 

You nodded, getting comfortable in your chair. “Sounds perfect.” 

“This has been amazing, Dean!” You gushed after you’d been at the festival a few hours. “I will never be able to thank you enough for this.” You looked around, not seeing the way he looked at you. “You will get the best Christmas and birthday presents ever for the rest of your life.” 

He chuckled lightly, shaking his head. “Nah, this was for both of us.” He told you honestly. Seeing you light up like this was a gift enough for him. 

You grinned up at him. “Selfie together?” You asked, hopeful. You really hadn’t taken many pictures that day, but you knew you wanted at least one of the pair of you. 

“Of course.” He agreed, taking your phone. “I am taller.” He teased, holding up the phone to get a couple pictures. “Wanna go grab lunch at the hotel, cool off, then come back when it’s socially acceptable to drink?” He asked as he handed you back your phone to put in your little bag. 

“Sounds good. Give our feet a break.” And give you a chance to refresh your anti-chub rub stick. 

After a few drinks, you were a bit giggly. Not drunk, but feeling really good. Smiling up at Dean, you bit your lip and snatched his snapback off his head when he wasn’t looking. He whipped his head around just to see you putting it on. “What do you think?” You asked, striking a playful pose. 

He had been fully ready to tell someone off for taking his hat until he realized that it had been you. Licking his lips, he playfully let out a sigh. “I think I just lost my hat because it looks good on you. Matches your tank top.” He noted. 

You blushed, nudging his side lightly, and you were taken aback when he put his arm around you to keep you close. You shyly put your arm around his waist, not complaining one bit. While you could hear laughter, you assumed it was just other festival goers having a good time. Drinks had been flowing for a few hours now, afterall. However, when you heard a ‘moo’ a little to close to you, you tense. 

Dean noticed, glancing at you. “You okay?” He asked, worried. 

“I’m fine.” You brushed it off. “How about we go to the taco truck for dinner?” You suggested. 

“Yeah, because she needs tacos.” A voice from not far snorted. 

That one Dean had heard, but he didn’t want to ruin your night, so he ignored it. “Sounds good.” He smiled, moving to lead you away from whatever asshole made that comment. He didn’t realize the same group was following. “Burgers tomorrow for dinner?” He suggested. 

“Have I ever turned burgers with you down, Dean?” You teased. 

“She should, isn’t that cannibalism?” Another voice laughed, making you swallow. You weren’t unused to cruel comments, you’d been bigger your whole life. However, it had died down quite a bit since you’d graduated high school years ago. “Maybe get a damn salad.” 

Your hand gripped the side of Dean’s shirt, willing them to just go away. “How’s Sammy doing?” You asked, trying to veer things away from the rude guys behind you. 

Dean chuckled. “He’s good.” He smiled. “Starts every call asking me if we’re dating yet.” He admitted, making your eyebrows shoot up. “Then gets annoyed when I tell him no.” 

Before you could say anything, another rude comment met your ears. “Who the hell would want to date her?” The first voice asked. “She should go to the gym and put some damn clothes on. No one wants to see that.” 

Dean’s jaw clenched as he moved his arm from around you. “One second, sweetheart.” He saw the worry on your face. “I’m just going to talk to them.” 

You watched him get closer to them and gasped when his fist met some guy’s nose. “Dean!” You rushed over, pulling on the back of his shirt. 

“What? You can say a bunch of shit but you can’t deal with the consequences?” He spat at the group who looked like they were about to bolt. “Learn not to be such assholes and you won’t wind up with a broken nose.” 

“What the hell, man?!” One finally spoke up. “Why are you defending that?!” 

That made Dean even madder. “That? That ?! That is my best friend, the woman I love, and a better person than you could ever hope to be.” 

“Come on, Dean.” You tugged him, as more people were looking. “Let’s go back to the motel.” You said softly. He loved you?! Since when? 

Dean heard the softness of your voice and let himself be pulled away. “Yeah, let’s go.” He pulled you back to his side, kissing the top of your head as he led you towards the exit. He was clearly still upset over what was said, but now he was also a bit worried. You’d heard him say that he loves you. Would he lose his best friend? He couldn’t lose you! 

Neither of you said anything the entire way back to the hotel. Neither of you knew what to say. You were wrapping your head around him feeling the same way about you, and he was panicking that this would push you away. 

Finally, you sat on the end of your bed and pulled off your sneakers. You left his hat on your head, not wanting to give it back just yet. “Hey, Dean?” You asked, nervous. 

“Yeah?” He braced himself. 

“Did you mean what you said? That you love me?” You asked, crossing your fingers it wasn’t just something to shut those guys up. He blushed and looked down, speaking volumes. “Because I love you, too.” 

His head shot up, and his eyes were wide. “What?” He breathed. 

You giggled at the look on his face. “I’ve loved you for ages. Who wouldn’t?” You asked, getting up to walk to where he was sitting. “Thank you for sticking up for me.” You ran your hand through his hair. As he leaned into your touch you giggled. 

“I’ll always defend you, sweetheart.” He sighed, sounding content. He surprised you by wrapping his arms around your hips. As he rested his head against your stomach, perfectly comfortable holding you. 

“How about we order dinner, and then cuddle while we wait for it to get here?” You asked, feeling brave. 

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” He agreed, looking forward to holding you. “Sleep in my bed tonight? We can keep it totally PG.” He promised, looking up at you. 

Smiling, you nodded. “I think I can do that.” 

[bullet-prooflove]

Can you do #32 “My daddy liked you, and that was a first You promised him you'd be the guy I deserve” for Jalen Shaw?

Tagging: @kmc1989 @storiesofsvu @telepathay @smoothdogsgirl

Companion piece to:

Inked (NSFW) - Jalen and you share a mutual appreciation of tattoos.

Call Out (NSFW) - Jalen and you get interrupted at 4am.

Waiting - Jalen waits up for you.

Officer Down - Jalen waits for a call after officer down goes out over the radio.

Too Damn Close - Jalen thinks about what almost happened.

On the weekends you have to work Jalen spends time with your father. The two of them have become friends throughout the course of your relationship, with weekly chess matches and monthly poker nights. This Saturday he takes Jim to the farmer’s market because after the shooting your father has decided you need a little home cooking to sooth your soul. He used to be a chef once upon a time and spends his retirement at the homeless shelter cooking up a feast with whatever ingredients they have to offer.

“How’s Lainey doing?” Jim asks as he walks beside Jalen, his walking stick thudding on the ground with every step. He’s slowed down in the last couple of years, become unbalanced, it’s why Jalen’s carrying the three tote bags filled with the groceries.  

“She is…” Jalen searches for the words to phrase your behaviour as of late. “…processing is probably the best way to describe it.”

You have nightmares sometimes, flashbacks he thinks, although he can’t be sure. Sometimes he’ll come into the kitchen and you’ll be staring out of the window at something that’s not really there or you’ll flinch when you hear a car back fire. It’s a trauma response to what you’ve been through and he wishes you’d be more open about it with him but it’s not in your nature.

“Counselling?” Jim asks as he picks up a plum, squeezing it lightly in his palm. Jalen still can’t figure out what he’s making for dinner, all he can say is it has spices, lots of different spices.  

“She’s seeing someone privately.” Jalen tells the other man, unfolding another tote bad from his pocket and handing it to him. “She doesn’t want the department knowing because they might bench her.”

“You’re worried.” Jim states as he tilts his head up to meet Jalen’s eyes.

“Yea.” He says simply, shrugging his shoulders. “But she won’t listen to me, she never does.”

“She’s like her mother.” Jim says as he begins to fill the tote bag with fresh fruit. “Stubborn, fiercely independent, it sure puts the shits up the men that are married to them that’s for sure.”

Jalen doesn’t respond, he simply takes out his wallet and pays the fruit vendor before lifting the new tote onto his opposite shoulder.

“Speaking of, didn’t you ask me for my blessing a couple of months ago?” Jim murmurs as Jalen falls into step alongside him. “I thought we’d have celebrated an engagement by now.”

This is the inevitable question that Jalen’s been avoiding.

“She said no.” He says finally, shifting the bags on his left shoulder. “She feels like she’ll lose her independence and I…” He trails off because it still hurts that you won’t take that leap with him. “…I have to respect that.”

“Oh.” Jim says and Jalen sighs as they pause at another stall.

“I love her Jim and I know she loves me, I just… I wanted more for us and I don’t think she’s going to get there.” He says, his fingertips tracing over the honied soap he thinks you’d love.

“So where does that leave you?” Jim asks as Jalen picks it up and hands it to the vendor. “Will that be enough?”

That’s a question he really doesn’t have an answer to, the one he’s been wresting with since before the shooting.

“It is for now.” Jalen says, his voice a little rough. “It’ll have to be for now.”

Love Jalen? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[cakerybakery]

“I have a spell that will work.” Lucifer used it on occasion for himself, to slip into heaven undetected. He had on several occasions spoken with Sera and she never once suspected he wasn’t the angel he presented himself as.

Adam looked like he wanted to celebrate but he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

So drop it, Lucifer did. “It can last up to four weeks. If you break the spell willingly, then obviously it’ll end sooner. But every twenty-eight days the spell will need to be recast.” He rarely used it for that long or consecutively but it would be fine. “A spell only I can cast. So, if you want to go back to heaven looking like a winner, you’ll need to come back down here every four weeks and have it recast.”

Adam’s onyx black wings drooped. He looked defeated even before finding out the cost of the spell.

“It’s the best I got, next to redemption.”

“No way that shit works.” Adam muttered.

“Maybe, maybe not. But if redemption does work you wouldn’t need my spell to go back to your old life undetected.” It was no skin off Lucifer’s nose slits if Adam didn’t take the offer.

“What do you want for it?” Adam looked at him suspiciously.

Good. It meant Adam was learning.

“One night with me.” Lucifer grinned at Adam disgusted face. “Every four weeks, you come back to hell. We spend the night together, and I will be making sweet love to you those nights, then I’ll cast the spell and off back to heaven you go.”

“Why?” Adam’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion and he frowned harder. “Why do you want, that?”

Lucifer waved the question off, “why not? I can name my price. Let’s see if you’re willing to pay it.”

Adam took the deal. One night out of twenty-eight he had to be back in hell. One night out of twenty-eight he could be Lucifer’s toy. It was only one night out of twenty-eight.

Lucifer had him that night. He could tell Adam expected to just zone out and let him do what he wanted. He made sure Adam came screaming his name.

It became routine.

An appointment Lucifer actually looked forward to. Adam never seemed pleased to come down but he didn’t complain about holding up his end of the deal, just that he had to come down once a month. As though the commute was the issue.

-

Coming down sucked. Adam hated it. It was a reminder that the guy he got to see in the mirror every morning wasn’t what he looked like anymore.

That he needed a spell to maintain that form.

That if he slips up and drops even a single feather he could be caught.

That heaven barely believes it’s even him.

He was so close to saying fuck it and just staying in hell. Work on redemption instead. There was some double dicked snake fuck up there- here, now so it worked but what the fuck was he supposed to say.

“Oh sorry Sera, I didn’t think you’d let me back in as a sinner, but I’ve redeemed myself for reals this time.” He muttered to himself as the last bit of gold faded from his wings and he landed on Lucifer’s balcony.

He knocked on the glass door as a courtesy, then went in anyways. “Hey fucker, I’m here.”

Adam paused to take his boots off to leave them by the door. He scanned the darkened room and took his helmet off to leave on the coat rack by the door that Lucifer installed so Adam would stop leaving his crap all over the floor. He pulled his robe off and hung it up.

Kinda weird the lights weren’t on. Sometimes Lucifer left the bedside table light on instead of the room light if he was already in bed but he was almost always here with lights on. Once he lost track of time in his workshop and once Charlie kept him, but something felt different about today.

The bed wasn’t made, it was person lumpy and Adam swallowed hard.

If something happened to Lucifer it could be awhile before anyone noticed.

Lucifer had mentioned a time or two that he and Charlie were talking more. A couple times a week. But that didn’t mean she called today.

And Adam knew Lucifer made his bedroom off limits for staff on their special nights. No early morning wake up calls or what the fuck ever. Just a blanket ban on anyone coming into his room for 24 hours, noon to noon.

Sometimes a guy likes to sleep in after getting railed all night. So sue a guy for enjoying riding dick till he sees heaven and then crashing for eight hours. Lucifer thought it was cute.

He fucking said so.

What was he going to do if that was Lucifer. If Lucifer couldn’t respond for some reason?

‘Please, God. Please, let him be okay.’

He flicked on a light and all he could see was a tuff of blonde hair sticking out of the covers that wrapped Lucifer up.

Carefully, Adam pulled away the covers and revealed Lucifer’s blank face. Adam shook him and it took Lucifer a minute for his eyes to focus.

“Adam?” Lucifer voice was croaky, like he hadn’t used it in a while. “What are you-“ his eyes went to the horns, “oh. Is it that time already?”

Lucifer struggled to get up. “I’ll cast the spell and you can go.”

“How long have you been in here?”

He just shrugged and tried to push the covers away but Adam was sitting on them.

“Are you sick?” Adam pressed his forehead to Lucifer’s but he couldn’t tell if Lucifer was running a fever, warm from being under the covers, or just naturally hot.

Lucifer shook his head a little, “no. I just. Sometimes I’m more… down, than normal. It’s fine. I’ll do the spell and you can go.”

“… I’m not going to leave you like this.”

“Just-“

“No. Besides. I’m invoking our deal.”

Lucifer pulled back away from him. “Adam, I’m not in the mood for sex.”

“Who said anything about sex? Technically you said I had to spend the night with you. The spirit was for that to mean sex, but the wording just said to spend the night.” Adam got up from the bed and stripped the rest of the way.

His t-shirt, jeans, even socks. Despite Lucifer’s protests, Adam manhandled him out of his shirt, pants, and boots. “Dude, you can’t wear boots to bed. You’ll get dirt and brimstone all over our sheets.”

“Our?” Lucifer looked unsure he heard Adam right.

“Maybe… maybe I’ll give this redemption thing a go. You know I hate the fucking commute.” He pushed Lucifer over, crawled in under the covers, and pulled Lucifer into a cuddle.

He couldn’t fix Lucifer anymore than Lucifer could fix him with that spell, but maybe they could help each other out. Their thing was fun but Lucifer obviously needed some sort of professional help and maybe, if he got some too, they could get better, together.

It had to mean something that he had felt genuine fear that Lucifer could be dead. It had to mean something that he looked forward more to the sex than the spell. To the company than the sex. Maybe they could figure that out together too.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Mistake - Part 2

Pairing: Frankie Morales, Santiago Garcia, F!reader

Word Count: 2500+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: I never planned to write a part 2 for Mistake, but so many people asked me for one, I felt compelled to write it! A HUGE thanks to @mermaidxatxheart for literally saving my ass on this one. Seriously, go thank her and while you’re there, binge her writing!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Frankie Morales Masterlist

Santiago Garcia Masterlist

<<Mistake Part 1<<

It's been 6 weeks since I've talked to Santi or Frankie. I've been begging Santi to talk to me, apologizing to a now full inbox, flooding his phone with texts. He's not as his usual spots whenever I manage to get the courage to try and find him. The guilt has made me physically sick, exhausted all the time from just thinking about it. 

And then there's Frankie. 

As much as I've tried to reach out to Santi, Frankie has tried to reach me. On one hand, it's hard not to talk to him. He's been my best friend since forever. I've been in love with him nearly that entire time, and apparently the feeling is mutual. 

But the way we had to find out was fucked up. 

I never wanted to hurt Santi. I do love him, but if I'm being honest with myself, I didn't love him the way he deserves. It's like he was the closest thing I could get to Frankie. 

Bile rises in my throat, my stomach churning and I run to the bathroom, just barely making it to the toilet before emptying my breakfast into it. It's been like this for a couple of weeks, my guilt taking over my body physically to match the way my heart feels. All I'd need now to top off this fuck me fest is my period-

Wait. When did I have that last?

I whip out my phone, quickly tapping on my calendar app, looking for the red dots indicating the start of my cycle. Once I find them, I quickly count the weeks and realize I'm nearly a month overdue for my period. 

"There's no way."

I skim the calendar, locating the day that we had our combined bachelor/ette parties and…fuck it's totally possible. Fuck fuck fuck!

After I finish vomiting yet again, I manage to get myself out of the house and to the pharmacy up the street, sort of floating through the aisles to pick up a box of pregnancy tests. I silently pay for them and the woman hands me my bag, offering a small smile and a "Good luck," to me under her breath. 

I get home and head straight into the bathroom, determined not to drag this out. I'm just sick from the horrible shit I've put Santi through. That has to be it. My mind goes a million places all at once, until the little timer on my phone goes off. Taking a deep breath, I flip the test over. 

PREGNANT

I stare at the word as it stares back at me, taking several long seconds before I actually take it what I'm seeing. Pregnant. I'm pregnant. There's a baby in me right now. And it's…

There was only 1 person I had sex with at that time, as Santi and I were on a temporary hiatus until after the wedding. 

"Of fucking course!" I yell at the universe, once again throwing a curveball in the path that is my relationship to Frankie.

Frankie. Fuck, what is he going to say? He already has a kid from an ex wife. An ex wife he hates. I don't want to be like her, forcing Frankie into something he doesn't want. But what do I want?

A quick text to my friend and she's coming over for drinks. Well, one of us is drinking anyway. 

—-

"I'm sorry,  you're what??" My friend Olivia spits out, handing me a napkin for the drink she just spit at me.

"Pregnant."

"Yeah I heard you I just…are you sure?"

I nod. "I took several tests. I have my OB appointment next week and-"

"Wait. You're keeping it?"

I take a breath, eyes scanning my living room. "Yeah."

Olivia looks at me. "You think Santi will come back?"

I play with the condensation on my glass of water. "It's Frankie's."

Olivia slams her hand on the table. "What? From that night?"

I nod and she lets out a whistle. "Are you gonna tell him?"

"I don't-"

Suddenly, I hear footsteps on my porch. Confused, as I wasn't expecting anyone, I get up, Olivia following behind me as I open the door. 

"Hey."

My stomach drops completely out as I stare up into the eyes of my ex fiance. 

"S-Santi."

His eyes scan my face, dipping quickly down my body. "Can I come in?"

"I uh.. s-sure."

I step back, allowing Santi to come into my home. He gives me a small smile and holds up his finger. 

"Wait a sec." He looks back out towards my driveway.

I hear more footsteps on my porch and then he's there, curls flipping out from under a hat, hands in his pockets because he doesn't know how to deal with the tension. 

"Come on, man. Don't just stand there." Santi walks past me and grabs his arm, pulling him inside. We all stand there in an awkward silence for several long moments before Santi clears his throat. 

"Can we talk?"

"Y-yeah." 

Santi follows me into the kitchen, Olivia giving me a questioning look as I pass her. I honestly have no idea what's going on and am having a hard time processing everything that's happening. I offer Santi a drink, but he declines, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. 

"I'm sorry," Santi says with extreme sincerity. 

Well that was unexpected.

"What?"

"I've been thinking these last few weeks and I've realized a lot of shit. I love you, querida, and I always will. But I think I loved the idea of you more."

"Again, what?"

"Look, I… I won't lie. When I saw you there with Frankie…that fucking hurt. I mean destroyed me." He puts a hand out as I open my mouth to apologize. 

"Just let me talk… anyway, I realized through the pain that what I was missing most was a wife, the commitment to someone to start a life with. Not you, exactly. I mean it…it still fucking hurts, but I'm not… I'm not mad. Anymore.” He takes a moment to gather himself and me? I’m just…I have no words.

“Querida, you deserve someone who loves you for you. Who wants to be with you and not just because it’s easy. Frankie is that. No, don’t look at me like that, he is. I… I knew he was in love with you, even with all the shit that happened with Claire, and I knew how you felt. It wasn’t hard to figure out - you’re both idiots.” He chuckles a little sadly and I feel tears starting to burn at the corners of my eyes. “I really should have never pursued you, but when Frankie got Claire pregnant and then married her, you looked so sad and I just…I wanted to take care of you. Take that hurt away-”

“And you did! You-”

“That’s good to know…Anyway, I reached out to Frankie and he tells me you aren’t talking to him? That you hate him?”

I dab furiously at my eyes, trying to get them to stop leaking, but I nod. “He lied, Santi. We both did. He knew I was c-calling your n-name and he k-kept going. And I f-figured out w-what I was d-doing and started c-calling out his n-name, and I just, Santi I am s-so s-s-sorry, and n-now I c-can’t s-stop c-crying!”

Santi swallows hard, then closes the distance between us, wrapping me in his arms, letting me soak his shirt as my shoulders shake. He shushs me, rocking me slightly to get me to calm down. Eventually, I do, somehow managing to contain myself and these pregnancy hormones.

Ah, fuck. The pregnancy. Do I tell Santi? No, I have to talk to Frankie first. 

“Querida, you have to talk to Frankie.”

I look up at him, pushing away from him and wiping my eyes. “No. I-I can’t.”

“If you’re worried about me, don’t be. I didn’t go through all of this self discovery to not have the 2 most important people in my life be together when they’re so very obviously still in love with each other.”

“Santi, I cheated on you with him. I can’t just forget-”

“Look. It wouldn’t have happened if it were anyone else and I know that. I knew better and I shouldn’t have asked you out. Just…talk to him? For me?” He raises his eyebrows at me until I agree. He smiles, giving me one last hug and kissing the top of my head.

I’m still not sure what’s happening, not entirely. Santi showing up and forgiving me was not on my bingo card for this lifetime.

Santi turns and walks out of the kitchen and I follow him, walking into the living area where Olivia and Frankie were making idle chit chat.

“Hey Fish, I’m gonna head out. It’s all good- no. You stay here.” Santi glances up at Olivia and his entire demeanour changes, like he just noticed, really noticed she was here. 

“Oh. Uh, yeah I’m heading out too,” Olivia says, meeting Santi’s gaze. “And you can take me to dinner. I’m starving.”

Santi smiles at her. “I’d love to.”

They leave, Frankie and I staring in shock at the closed door for several moments before I shake my head, moving to lock the door. I take a breath and turn around to see Frankie standing there, nervously shifting from foot to foot, lifting the hat from the top of his head and running his fingers through his hair.

Fuck he’s so hot.

“Did…did Santi tell you everything?”

I nod, my arms wrapping around myself. “He did.”

“Kind of wild, wasn’t it?”

“I mean, whatever works for him. He seems to be doing ok.”

“Yeah.”

Silence stretches between us for several long moments. 

“Hermosa, I- I’m sorry. Really. I shouldn’t have…I should’ve stopped-”

I sigh. “Yeah, but I knew, Frankie.”

“You what?”

“When you left, I started remembering more. At first I thought you were Santi but I did realize it at some point and then just…changed to saying your name. I wasn’t thinking straight because I love you, and then-”

Frankie’s eyes snap to mine. “You love me?”

“I-” I look at him. Time to confess everything.

“I..do.”

Frankie smiles, but then remembers we’re supposed to be serious, so he drops it. “I love you too.”

I study his face, the worry in his eyes, the patches in his beard. I have to tell him, even if it pushes him away. 

"Come sit with me?" I ask nervously, moving around to sit on the couch.

"Yeah. Yeah, ok." Frankie sits next to me, smoothing out his pants several times before settling. 

Fuck, this is hard. 

"Hermosa, I-"

"I'm pregnant."

Frankie freezes, mouth open mid word as his brain tries to process what I said. 

"P-pregnant?"

I nod. "Yup."

Several long moments pass between us, the air charged with tension. 

"Well…I.. I hope you and Santi can.. get back together. For the… the baby."

My eyebrows pinch together, my head slightly cooking to the side. "What?"

"Santi. I mean, I know he said he loves the idea of you more, but I think, or hope that would change with you carrying his child."

Oh. He doesn't realize.

"No, Frankie. It's not… the baby is yours."

His eyes grow wide, searching my face for a lie. "Wh-what? Are you sure?"

I nod. "Santi and I had promised no, uh, no sex for the month leading up to the wedding. So-"

"That night."

I nod. "Yup." I emphasize the p sound. 

"Listen, Frankie, I've thought about it a lot and… I'm keeping the baby. And you can be as involved as you want or not involved-" 

To my surprise, he's smiling, growing wider by the second and his eyes are all watery, like he's holding back tears. 

"Frank-"

"We're having a baby?"

"Yes. But did you hear-"

"Together? You and I?"

"Yes, that's what I said. Frankie, are you listening to-"

He lets out a small laugh, the smile lighting up his whole face and I swear he chokes back a "whoop". He takes my hand in his and the warmth from it immediately starts to calm me. His other hand comes up to the side of my face, his large fingers curving around the back of my head as his thumb softly rubs at the skin of my cheek. His eyes move between mine and then down to my lips and before I can think, he's in front of me, our lips just barely out of reach.

"Can I kiss you?" Frankie whispers, and I can't think of anything else besides how much I want him.

"Yes."

His lips push against mine gently, his fingers tightening their grip as he increases the pressure, sliding his tongue into my willing mouth. 

"Wait." I push back from him and he trails after me, eyes confused. 

"Did I hurt you?"

"No but Frankie, I think we need to talk about the baby in my uterus."

"What's there to talk about?"

My eyebrow raises. "Seriously?"

He smiles, nodding. "I'm all in, hermosa. Always. As much as you'll have me or want me to be."

"But you already have a daughter with someone else."

"So our baby will have a sister already."

"What about Claire?"

Anger flashes in his eyes. "What about her?"

"Will she be ok with this?" I gesture to my stomach. "With us?"

"I don't give a fuck what she thinks of us- wait. There's an us?"

"I-I-" Time to throw your last card on the table, the one you'd never lay down if it wasn't for Santi giving you permission.

"If.. if you don't think me and the baby would cramp your style."

He laughs, smiling wide for a few seconds before his eyes get a little darker, his voice dropping an octave or two.

"I'd put a hundred babies in you if you'd let me."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I love you, Hermosa."

—-

With Santi's enthusiastic insistence, we get married a few months after our son is born.

And Santi marries Olivia the following year, starting on that life he always wanted. 

-------

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed   @ladykatakuri @marrianena  @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol   @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics

[mixelation]

i wrote more reborn au help

“It’s five now,” Matron told them grimly.  

A week ago, there had been six shinobi clans in Sound Country. Matron didn’t describe what happened to the sixth one. She didn’t have to. Most of the orphans have already been sent out to see the war themselves. 

Tori picked at a thread on the hand-me-down yukata she’d been given. It was a mustard yellow that probably would have looked lovely on another child but just made her skin look oddly gray. They hadn’t made her do anything yet but help lug water out to the aftermath of a battle once. She was only four. 

“This is why it’s important you train hard,” Matron concluded, before dismissing them into the yard. 

It wasn’t fair, Tori thought as she plodded along at the back of the line, that she had to be reborn into this stupid universe and didn’t even get to be born into a cool family. She would have liked magic eyeballs, maybe, or being taught to read minds. This clan did have a kekkei genkai that involved screaming like a bat, but she wasn’t one of them. She’d been born to a civilian family that had been the tragic victims of the Third Shinobi War, and the clan had taken her along with any other orphan kid they found.

The poor shmuck in charge of orphan training today was a teenager who didn’t seem to have any real plan in mind. He instructed them to practice hitting each other with sticks, and Tori was handed a bamboo pole and paired off with another girl, a couple years older. 

Tori didn’t want to hit anyone with a stick, much less another little girl. She’d rather be taught how to fight alongside a dog partner, and Tori didn’t even like dogs. 

The other little girl was shaking. She was new, and like Tori’s new-timeline family she didn’t even remember, her parents had been farmers. The Matron promised them every morning that they were training to be shinobi just like everyone else in the clan, but the clan relied on parents or older siblings teaching their children individually or in small groups, and the orphans just got whoever was around and free on any given day. This girl had never had to fight anyone in her life. 

(There were barely any children over the age of eight, because eight was the age they decided it was okay to start sending people out into the battlefield.)

“You can come at me first,” Tori offered, squaring her shoulders and holding the pole in front of her the way she thought they’d told them to do it a month ago. 

It additionally wasn’t fair that Tori didn’t seem to be any more physically gifted than in her previous life. She seemed to have the exact same body as before, complete with a head of runaway curls that the Matron seemed confused by, and that meant physical activity didn’t come easily to her. 

The other girl hesitated a few moments, and then half-heartedly smacked her pole against Tori’s. She didn’t even aim for Tori herself. The teenager in charge of them was busily sharpening some kunai and not paying any attention to the hollow thwaps of incompetent children hitting things with bamboo poles. 

Really, really unfair, Tori thought. 

xXx

Medical supplies were perpetually low, and so the welts now across Tori’s knuckles would go unbandaged. They had soap, at least, and plenty of well water. Tori had even gotten to help an ancient kunoichi make the last batch of soap. 

Tori examined her hand as they waited in line for a lunch of plain rice porridge. She must be holding the pole wrong, for a seven year old to accidentally hit her knuckles like that. 

(This was one advantage Tori had over the other orphans: she didn’t mind getting hurt. She preferred not to be hurt, obviously, but she’d lost a lot of the natural human fear of pain.)

They were also short on most kitchen supplies, so Tori had to share her bowl with two boys. They’d just sat down on the edge of the main house’s engawa when a group of shinobi bounded into the yard in excitement. 

“We got one!” one of them cried, holding something over his head. “Where’s the Old Man? We found one!”

Whatever it was, a group was rapidly forming around the shinobi. The two boys Tori was to share with got up to go see themselves, and Tori pulled the bowl into her lap. Their loss. 

Tori ate as fast as she could while she watched the proceedings. The Clan leader eventually appeared, and the crowd parted for him. The shinobi knelt as he presented the leader with… some sort of kunai?

“We were scouting a battlefield of the Yellow Flash, as you commanded,” one of the shinobi reported. 

Ah, shit, Tori thought as horror dawned on her. 

“It has some sort of fuinjutsu on it,” the shinobi was saying as the Clan Leader carefully flipped the three-pronged kunai over in his hands. “If we study it, maybe he can learn one of his techniques.”

Tori set the bowl down on the engawa and hopped to her feet. 

“Excuse me,” she called, approaching the gaggle of people around the Clan Leader. “Excuse me, are you really sure that’s a good idea?”

The Clan Leader looked at her like she was some sort of insect. 

“Don’t speak unless spoken to, girl,” the Clan Leader responded.

Tori ignored the warning. “Doesn’t the Yellow Flash, like, teleport? Do you really want to risk him teleporting here?”

The teenager who’d been in charge of them that morning was commanded to take her to a back training ground and hit her ten times with one of the bamboo poles. He only hit her eight times, all on her back. 

“The next person won’t be as nice,” he warned her. 

Tori had to lay on her belly to sleep, crammed into a room with twelve other orphans. In the morning, she was excused from ninja practice and sent to help the ancient kunoichi who made soap with laundry. Tori considered this a bonus. The soap kunoichi was the only person she really liked. 

“This does need to be wrapped,” the kunoichi diagnosed her back, clicking her tongue. “Why did you speak up, you foolish child? Here, lie down and I’ll help.”

Tori laid down on her belly again, and she twitched only a little as the kunoichi pushed chakra into her back. 

“I was right,” Tori mumbled into her arms. “That kunai is dangerous.”

The kunoichi sighed. “Always too clever for your own good, girl. Of course it’s dangerous. Trust your elders to know how to contain dangerous techniques.”

Tori craned her neck, turning her head to look at the kunoichi. “Really?” she asked. “How?”

The kunoichi clicked her tongue again. “No technique a brat like you will understand.”

“I understood the soap,” Tori countered. “Didn’t you tell Matron once, that a failure of one person to explain isn’t a failure of another person to understand–”

“Oi!” the kunochi countered, moving her hand to pinch an unblemished part of Tori’s side sharply. “The mouth on you!”

She did explain, though. The clan possessed a special chest, which was adorned with a special seal the clan had spent generations developing. It made the chest unbreakable, and so the kunai was harmless as long as it was inside. 

Tori doubted this, but she also doubted Minato would have a reason to come attack this little clan specifically. Then again, what did she know? She knew the date this war had ended in another timeline, and she knew at some point before that date the five Sound Country shinobi clans would unite as one village, but she didn’t know if she could expect things to proceed as they had before. She didn’t know what she’d changed, if anything, just by being here. 

One problem at a time, Tori decided, getting to her feet to go find some clean rags for the kunoichi to dress her wounds.

[ejzah]

A/N: Happy 5th Anniversary to Kensi and Deeks! I can’t believe five years ago we were wondering if it would ever happen. We’ve got a little bit of fluff, domestic Densi, babies, Rosa, and of course, romance.

This story ignores the fact that Sam is now in Hawaii.

***

Here’s to Five and Many More

When Rosa first met Sam Hanna and G. Callen (it would be a couple months before she heard what the G stood for thanks to Sam’s teasing), she thought they seemed nice, but fairly intimidating. She never imagined that they’d ever consider her their honorary niece, or that she’d feel comfortable to have them over for dinner.

Even more surprising was that they both accepted and didn’t seem fazed when they found out Kensi and Marty wouldn’t be in attendance.

“Have you ever considered opening your own restaurant?” Callen questioned after his first bite of chicken stew.

Rosa dipped her head at the compliment, shrugging. “Thank you. I’m glad you like it. But I think I’ll keep cooking as a hobby for now.” She shifted her weight. “And thank you for coming last minute.”

“Hey, I’ll never say no to a good meal, but something tells me that you didn’t invite us over just to sample your cooking,” Sam observed.

“You’re right, I didn’t,” Rosa admitted, brushing her hair back. “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

Callen paused with a pepper halfway to his mouth and Sam’s face instantly shifted into something darker.

“Who is he and what did he do?”

“Uncle Sam, it’s nothing like that,” Rosa assured him quickly before he could find some poor and unsuspecting boy. “Steven is still wonderful. It’s not something bad.”

“Ok, but if that changes, I’m a text away, and have no problem lightly abusing my power to make arrests.”

By now, Rosa was fairly used to such offers, so she took it in stride. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.” Folding her hands together, she breathed in once, not sure why she felt so nervous. “So, Marty and Kensi’s fifth anniversary is coming soon and I want to plan something special for them,” she explained.

“Yeah, March 17th.” Callen nodded.

“Yes. It’s four weeks away.”

“I want to plan something special for them. It’s been a really exciting year, but also so much has changed, and I know it hasn’t all been easy,” Rosa continued. “Maybe a nice dinner out or even a couple days away. Although I don’t know if Kensi and Marty will want to leave the twins overnight.”

“Hm, it would take some planning to pull off, but it’s possible,” Sam mused.

And don’t worry, I’ve saved some money from my job. All I need is help with the actual scheduling and execution,” Rosa assured him.

“Kid, we’re not making you pay for anything,” Callen interrupted with a roll of his eyes. “Kensi and Deeks would kill us if they found out we let you spend all your money on them.”

“I can afford it,” Rosa said stubbornly, pride getting the better of her.

“But you don’t have to. That money is supposed to be for your needs. Like tuition, and books, and ice cream during finals week ,” Sam told her gently.

Rosa smiled reluctantly at the last part. “Ok. I’m chipping in though since it was my idea.”

“Always so stubborn.”

“Well, it’s a Deeks-Blye trait,” Rosa explained with a self-deprecating shrug. Then more added more earnestly. “Thank you for helping me.”

“Anytime kid.”

***

“Babe, have you seen my breast pump?” Kensi asked, rushing from their bedroom.

“Uh, it’s in the hallway bathroom,” Deeks told her without looking up from wrangling Sophia into a clean onesie. He finished and tucked her under his arm.

Kensi hurried out of the room, coming back with pump and a couple fo bottles.

“Alright, you’re all clean, how about some tummy time?” Sophia made a sighing sound at Deeks’ suggestion, palming at his nose. When he had her settled on her stomach in the middle of a blanket with some toys, he grabbed Caleb.

Roughly three months in, they’d found a rhythm to caring for the twins. It was an exhausting and completely insane rhythm, but it worked for the most part.

“Now we have two clean babies,” Deeks announced, setting Caleb next to his sister. “Which should last anywhere from ten minutes to an hour and a half.”

Kensi laughed wryly from the couch, head flopped back on the cushion as the pump whirred quietly.

“Did Rosa say if she’ll be home for dinner?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Ok, I’m going to start some chicken and broccoli. Maybe potatoes if I’m feeling ambitious,” Deeks replied. Crouching briefly, he tickled each of the twin’s tummies. “Now don’t get into any trouble while I’m out of the room.”

***

Rosa arrived shortly before six with a loaf of crusty bread and a chocolate cake in hand. Deeks accepted both, grateful to have something to round their dinner out.

“¿Cómo están mis hermosos hermanitos y hermanitas?” she asked the twins, getting down on the blanket with them. They cooed happily, Caleb lifting his head higher in excitement. “Mira lo fuerte que eres.”

“I swear Sophia almost rolled onto her side this morning,” Deeks said, responding to the one-sided conversation.

“Isn’t that really early?” Rosa asked.

“It is,” Kensi confirmed. “It’s exciting, but I’m not quite sure I’m ready for them to be mobile yet.”

“Eh, it figures given their mom’s a ninja assassin.” Deeks winked at Kensi, who rolled her eyes.

“And their dad excels at any sport that involves ice or water.”

They held each other’s gaze for several seconds, Kensi’s eyes darkening, until Rosa pointedly cleared her throat.

“Do I need to leave the room?”

“No, no we’re good. Uh, dinner will be ready in five minutes,” he said, moving back into the kitchen. Rosa followed him. “How was your day?”

“It was ok. Do you need any help?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

Leaning against the counter, Rosa watched him put everything on the stovetop and begin dishing out servings.

“My literature class and ethics are always interesting. But I’m regretting taking history more every day.”

“Still unreasonably boring and complicated?” Deeks guessed.

“Yes.” She groaned and rubbed her hands over her face. “I never want to hear about 15th century kings again.”

“Ooh yeah, that’s not fun.” He winced in sympathy. “If you want any help studying, I’m always here. I might ask for payment in the form of baby-holding, but I’m always happy to help or just commiserate.”

Rosa giggled, her entire face brightening. “Thanks, Marty.”

“Any day, Rosalita. You wanna grab the last plate and bread?”

They set everything on the table while Kensi settled the twins in their car seats. Generally one of their toys kept them busy long enough for a quick dinner.

“Before we eat, I have something for both of you,” Rosa spoke up, pulling a gift out of her bag. “Happy Anniversary.”

“Oh, thank you, Rosa.” Kensi took the package, which was about dinner plate sized and based on the way her hands dipped, heavier than anticipated. She started peeling at the tape holding the paper together. Whatever it was, Deeks knew it would be creative; he’d learned very quickly that Rosa gifted from the heart and usually with her artistic side in mind.

“I know it’s not for a couple more days, but I wanted to give it to you early. I hope you like it.”

“Oh my god, this is gorgeous,” Kensi gasped as she let the wrapping paper fall away. She ran her fingers over the smooth mahogany stained wood. Across the front surface two raccoons with their noses pressed together were engraved in the very middle, set against a backdrop of trees.

“I know it might be kind of silly—”

“No, it’s perfect,” Deeks interrupted, glancing up from the gift. He held out an arm, pulling her into his side. Kensi wrapped her free arm around Rosa too. “Thanks you so much.”

“It’s really beautiful.”

“Actually, it’s not your only gift. Did you have any specific plans for your anniversary?”

“Uh, dinner here, and then falling asleep to Titanic?” Deeks suggested. He did have a gift for Kensi, but the last few months had taught them that planning for outings were best left flexible and without too much expectation.

“Why, did you have something else in mind?” Kensi asked.

Rosa folded her hands together, looking unusually timid. “Uncle Callen and Sam and I might have orchestrated a little surprise. We made reservations for you at your favorite sushi restaurant and then booked an Air BnB nearby for two days.”

“Rosa…” Kensi shook her head, and Rosa hurried to explain,

“You don’t have to stay overnight if you don’t want to be away from Caleb and Sophia that long, but I thought it would be nice for you to get away for a little bit.”

Deeks pressed his lips together, feeling the prick of tears building behind his eyes, overwhelmed by Rosa’s love for them.

“Rosa, that is so incredibly generous of you,” Kensi said, hugging her again.

“You deserve a break,” Rosa said simply, as if it wasn’t a big deal. Her excitement growing, she dove back into her backpack, and came back with a large envelope. “This has all the plans and reservations. If you do decide to go, Sam and I will take turns watching Sophia and Caleb.”

“That’s asking an awful lot of you.”

“You didn’t ask me to do anything,” she pointed out. “I’m offering, and I want to.”

“Man, we sure are lucky. Thank you,” Deeks murmured, pressing a kiss to Rosa’s forehead.

“Like you said, any time.”

***

“That was phenomenal,” Kensi sighed, dropping onto the bed in the master bedroom of their Air BnB with a graceless flop. She’d forgotten what it was like to enjoy a meal without any interruptions, to hold a conversation that didn’t involve at least one break for a diaper change or feeding. Of course she missed Caleb and Sophia, but she couldn’t deny the reprieve was nice. “But I might die.”

She looked up at Deeks, who had come in more slowly with their few bags. He grinned, tugging the first couple buttons of his shirt open. For once, he’d dressed up, choosing a deep blue shirt that matched her dress. He looked amazing, but she knew he was probably dying to get into something more casual.

“I’m saying nothing,” he said, though his smug grin pretty much said it for him.

“I know, I know. I shouldn’t have had that last spicy California. It was just too good.” Sighing, she rolled onto her side, patting the spot next to her, and held out her hand invitingly. “Come join me.”

“I should put our stuff away while I’m up.” He didn’t sound too certain about it though.

“You don’t always have to be so responsible,” Kensi teased. “C’mon, it’ll wait for a few minutes.”

Giving in, Deeks dropped the shirt he’d just pulled out of his suitcase, and slid onto the mattress next to her. He let out a contented groan as he sank into the thick quilt.

“Just a few minutes,” he repeated. They were both asleep in thirty seconds.

***

Kensi woke up with her nose buried in Deeks’ chest, arms loosely wrapped around her back. Untangling her arms, she stretched them above her head, her spine cracking as she arched her back. She felt better rested than she had in months.

“So much for just a few minutes,” Deeks muttered, eyes still closed.

“I think that was the best nap I’ve ever had,” Kensi said. She studied Deeks’ features, brushing back the pieces of hair that had grown more unruly in sleep. He leaned into her touch, one corner of his mouth lifting when she trailed her fingers down his cheeks and neck.

Scooting closer, Kensi pressed her lips to the warm tan skin left exposed by his open shirt. His hand tightened on her back, pulling her that much closer.

“Mm. I’m suddenly wide awake,” he drawled. Kensi pulled back enough to see his eyes were now open and slightly hazed with desire rather than sleep. He cupped the back of her neck, gently guiding her mouth to his.

They’d barely had any times to themselves, let alone the energy to consider sex since the twins were born, but suddenly the desire came back in full force.

Kensi dropped her hands to the front of his shirt, fingers scrabbling over the buttons and to tug the material free from his pants.

“Woah, and here I thought I got lucky with the nap.” Deeks gasped in between kisses.

“Oh, you’re about to get a whole lot more lucky,” Kensi promised, not caring how cheesy it sounded. She rolled Deeks onto his back, crawling up the length of his body, and then settling across his thighs. Hovering over him, she stared down at his flushed face, loving everything about him. “Happy Anniversary, baby.”

Deeks pulled her back to him, and they spent the next few hours making a very enjoyable anniversary.

[kjack89]

Back to Where We Started (Chapter 1/?)

For @theworldfallsup for my 10 year/4k follower anniversary, who requested a Mr. & Mrs. Smith-type AU.

It's gotten long, so I'm splitting it into multiple chapters, largely to force myself to actually finish it.

E/R, modern AU. CW: Mentioned character death, gun violence, everything you'd expect from an action movie AU.

Cosette offered the two men sitting on the couch in her office a tight smile. “I’m sorry for being late,” she said as she sat down. “My last session ran over.”

“It’s fine,” the blond man sitting on the left assured her with a faint accent she couldn’t quite place.

She nodded, giving them both a quick once-over as she pulled her pad of paper close to her. For as long as she’d been doing this, it would never not surprise her how much she could learn about a couple before they even got into whatever issue had ostensibly brought them in for couple’s therapy. In the case of the two men sitting in front of her, the tension between them was palpable, mostly based on the fact that they were sitting at opposite ends of the couch rather than directly next to her. And based on the way his knee was bouncing at about ninety miles an hour, the darker-haired man was particularly unconvinced that this was going to work.

“So,” she said, “my name is Cosette Fauchelevent. Which one of you is Enjolras?” The blond raised his hand and she smiled at him before switching her gaze to the brunet. “And you must be Grantaire.”

“I assume these incredible deductive reasoning skills explain the exorbitant price we’re paying for this,” Grantaire said in lieu of an answer.

Cosette didn’t so much as blink. “Then let’s get right into it to justify the cost,” she said pleasantly. “What’s wrong with your marriage?”

Both Enjolras and Grantaire stared at her. “Who said something was wrong with it?” Enjolras asked, his brow furrowed.

“Mostly the fact that you’re sitting here,” Cosette said, still pleasant. “But if you’d rather, we can back up a little. How long have you been married?”

“Three years,” Grantaire said.

Cosette nodded. “And how often do you have sex?” This time, she didn’t wait for either of them to protest. “Sex is a cause or symptom of larger issues more often than you might think, so better to get it out in the open.”

Enjolras cleared his throat. “Sex isn’t really our problem,” he muttered, the tips of his ears burning red, as Grantaire crossed and recrossed his legs, studiously avoiding looking at him.

Cosette just nodded again, scribbling a note on her pad of paper. “On a scale of one to ten, how satisfied would you each say you are with your sex life?”

For the first time all session, Enjolras and Grantaire glanced at each other. “Eight,” Enjolras said, and Grantaire looked back at Cosette.

“Wait, is ten the best or is one the best? Like is ten mind-blowing sex every day, and one is bad missionary once every six months, or—?”

“Just answer instinctively,” Cosette said.

Grantaire jerked a nod, looking back at Enjolras. “Ok. Ready?”

“Ready,” Enjolras said.

They both looked at Cosette and said in perfect unison, “Eight.”

Cosette jotted down another note. “And how often do you say ‘I love you’?”

The question was met with a stunned sort of silence. Then, Enjolras leaned forward, his brow furrowed. “I don’t understand the question.”

“Yeah, I’m lost,” Grantaire added quickly. “Is this a one to ten thing?”

“It’s really not,” Cosette said, circling something in her notes. “But how about I make this easier: do you love each other?”

Again, silence.

Cosette let it linger for as long as she personally felt comfortable with before clearing her throat. “Maybe we should back up even further,” she said, keeping her tone as neutral as possible. “Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourselves, like what you do for a living? Sometimes that can be a sore spot between couples.”

Enjolras looked visibly relieved at the change in subjects. “Oh, well, I’m involved in local politics—”

Grantaire snorted derisively. “I think she meant, like, your job.” He glanced at Cosette. “Which is a sore spot, because he doesn’t have one.”

A muscle worked in Enjolras’s cheek. “We’re very fortunate to not need a second income, which allows me to focus on things that matter,” he said, something warning in his tone. “And I don’t know that I’d consider photography a real job, anyway.”

“Is that what you do?” Cosette asked Grantaire, ignoring the murderous look he had just shot Enjolras. “Photography?”

“Yeah,” Grantaire said gruffly. “I used to be a wildlife photographer. Traveled all over: Sub-Saharan Africa, the Middle East, the Korean Peninsula, Siberia—”

Cosette cocked her head. “I wouldn’t think there’d be a lot of wildlife in Siberia,” she remarked.

Something shifted in Grantaire’s expression. “You’d be surprised,” he said before clearing his throat. “Anyway, now I mostly do, like, weddings, senior portraits, stuff like that.”

“I’m sensing that you’re not particularly enthusiastic about the type of photography you’re currently doing.”

Grantaire jerked a shrug. “It’s fine. It’s steady. It’s – well, I mean, it doesn’t quite compare to traveling the world, but…”

He trailed off and Enjolras shifted impatiently in his seat. “But we both agreed that we can do a lot of good right here in this community, right, honey?”

“Absolutely, sweetheart,” Grantaire said, saccharine sweet. “Of course, if it weren’t for traveling, we never would have met, so…”

“Oh, where did the two of you meet?” Cosette asked.

“East Africa,” Enjolras and Grantaire said, again in unison.

Cosette nodded. “Were you on vacation?”

“Something like that.”

Three Years Ago

Enjolras wasn’t naïve about what he looked like, so the fact that he managed to slip unnoticed through the crowded market in Bujumbura spoke to how much effort he’d put into learning how to blend in. It was a necessary survival skill, after all, given his line of work.

It was also a skill put to the test when he overheard a snippet of conversation between two men in police uniforms patrolling the outskirts of the market, and more specifically, the name General Lamarque. Enjolras’s step slowed, and he lingered longer than was wise to overhear what they were saying next, hopeful that it would be about the continued rumblings of revolution that Lamarque was stirring in the former capital city.

Instead, what he heard next made his blood run cold.

“Le Général Lamarque est mort.”

And then: “Assassinat.”

Enjolras was immediately aware that these two were not the only police in the market, and that the police he saw were much more heavily armed than usual. And scanning the crowd as if looking for someone.

He backed away quickly, his heart pounding in his chest as he rapidly thought through every exit strategy he had developed over the past few weeks living in Burundi. But he hadn’t thought that this would happen, at least not this early on, so the vast majority of them wouldn’t work, especially if the police were looking for anyone they could reasonably accuse of being involved.

Like anyone foreign, and traveling alone.

He couldn’t do anything about the former, but he could try to figure something out for the latter.

Plan decided on, he turned on heel and strode back in the direction of city centre and the few hotels in the area, hoping he could find someone friendly. It wasn’t exactly a tourist-heavy part of the world, but there were bound to be a few NGO workers who wouldn’t have been evacuated yet.

He managed to make it inside a hotel lobby before he was stopped by two men in paramilitary uniforms who spoke to him in rapid French. Enjolras only half-listened, looking over their shoulders into the bar he could just see, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he locked eyes with a dark-haired man sitting by himself at the bar.

Not that Enjolras particularly cared at the moment, but the man wasn’t much to look at, though judging by the way his shirt tightened across his chest as he moved, he was well-muscled, and that mattered far more given everything. “Cet homme là,” he said, interrupting the man speaking. “C’est mon ami.”

He didn’t wait to hear what they said, just brushing past them and making a beeline for the man in the bar, who smiled when he approached. “I was wondering when you’d be back,” he said, with a kind of warm familiarity that Enjolras wouldn’t have appreciated under any other circumstance. “I was beginning to think I was going to spend the evening drinking by myself.”

“You’re traveling together?” one of the military officials asked sharply.

“Of course,” the man said, as if it was obvious, and Enjolras thanked whatever higher power might exist that he was rolling with it. “Do you need to see our visas, or…?”

A sudden burst of gunfire came from the street, and the officials exchanged glances. “You should get to your embassy,” one said shortly before they both hurried outside, leaving Enjolras alone with the man who just might have saved his life, or at the very least, kept him out of a Burundi prison cell. 

“I hope you don’t think that was, uh, forward of me,” the man said, almost a little sheepishly. “Only the bartender just told me that someone was assassinated and the military police are looking for anyone traveling alone, and then I saw you, and, well, you looked a little desperate, so I just figured—”

“You figured correctly,” Enjolras said, cutting off the man’s ramble. He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of more gunfire. “And while I thank you for your assistance, we should get out of here.”

The man nodded and turned back to the bar, grabbing whatever he’d been drinking it and downing it in a single gulp. “To the embassy?” he asked. Enjolras hesitated, because of course he had absolutely no way of explaining that going to any embassy was as dangerous for him as staying put, but thankfully, the man then offered, “Or I have a connection that was going to take me to Kenya tomorrow anyway, and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind an extra passenger.”

“Are you sure?” Enjolras asked, surprised.

The man shrugged. “He owes me a favor,” he said breezily. “Or ten.” He looked at Enjolras expectantly. “So what do you say?”

Enjolras shrugged as well. “It’s as good a plan as any,” he said, aiming to match the man’s breezy tone.

The man laughed. “Not exactly brimming with enthusiasm, but I’ll take it.” He held his hand out for Enjolras to shake. “My name is Grantaire.”

“Enjolras,” Enjolras said, shaking his hand, but before he could say anything more, there was the sound of a distant explosion. “How would your connection feel about moving our trip up to today?”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Grantaire said. “I need to grab my bag from upstairs. Do you…?”

“No,” Enjolras said, thinking of his clothes, forged passport and array of weaponry currently stashed in what had been General Lamarque’s camp outside the city. “No, I never travel with anything I can’t afford to leave behind.”

Grantaire smiled at him. “Well,” he said, “just as long as that doesn’t include me.”

Enjolras laughed as well. “Don’t worry,” he said, and it was only after Grantaire had left for his hotel room that Enjolras added, “it absolutely does.”

— — — — —

Three nights later, Enjolras slipped out from under Grantaire’s arm still draped across his waist and held his breath when the other man shifted in his sleep. But Grantaire didn’t stir and Enjolras breathed a sigh of relief before standing and heading over to his bag to grab his satellite phone. He glanced at Grantaire before stepping out onto the balcony, closing the door softly behind him.

Then he called Combeferre.

“Thank God you’re alive,” Combeferre said by way of greeting, and Enjolras half-smiled as he leaned down to rest his elbows on the balcony railing.

“Alive, and made it to Nairobi,” he reported. “Wish I could say the same about Lamarque.” 

Combeferre sighed. “I know. It’s a tough loss.”

“Tough?” Enjolras repeated. “It’s going to set back progress in the region by at least a decade.”

“Unfortunately, we’ve got bigger problems than that,” Combeferre said, a little grimly.

“Like what?”

Combeferre cleared his throat. “The Burundi government evidently recovered some of your personal effects, and after connecting your most recent alias to some of your other ones, well…let’s just say you’re being blamed for the assassination. Meaning you’re also now on every terrorist watchlist in the world.” Enjolras had expected as much, not that it made it easier to hear. “Speaking of which, how did you make it all the way to Kenya on your own?”

Enjolras glanced back over his shoulder to make sure Grantaire was still sleeping. “I’m not on my own.”

“You – what?”

This was the part of the conversation that Enjolras had been dreading most. “I met someone,” he said, and when Combeferre was silent, he added, “His name is Grantaire. He’s an American, a wildlife photographer, and he used his connections to get us both out of there.”

“And then you immediately abandoned him in Nairobi, right?” Combeferre asked, and Enjolras could just picture him pinching the bridge of his nose.

Enjolras traced a finger along the balcony railing as he hedged, “Define abandoned.”

“Enjolras.”

“He’s very nice,” Enjolras assured him. “And he thinks he just saved my life.”

“Courfeyrac and I wouldn’t have let—”

“You know that, and I know that, but…”

“But what?” Combeferre demanded, exasperated. “Enjolras, you can’t just sleep with a random American you met in a war zone without us thoroughly vetting him!”

Enjolras made a face. “Tell that to Courfeyrac,” he muttered.

He could practically hear Combeferre roll his eyes. “Courfeyrac doesn’t exactly have the same international profile that you do. And this guy could be CIA, he could be INTERPOL—”

“Or he could be my ticket out of here.”

Combeferre was silent for a moment before asking warily, “What do you mean?”

Enjolras cleared his throat. “I mean, it’ll be, what, three to five years before the heat dies down enough that I can get back to work, right?”

“At least.”

Enjolras nodded. “So I’ll spend the next three to five years with Grantaire,” he said, looking over his shoulder again before telling Combeferre, “He asked me to marry him.”

“He – what?” Combeferre said weakly. “It’s been three days!”

That had more or less been Enjolras’s reaction, though he at least had the benefit of seeing how amazing the sex was before Grantaire asked him the world’s dumbest question. But while Enjolras had demurred at the time, he had also been thinking about it. And now he needed Combeferre on his side. “What can I say, almost dying together has a tendency to accelerate the timeline.”

“Enjolras,” Combeferre said, with the kind of patience a parent used on a misbehaving child, “you can’t marry him.”

Enjolras shrugged. “After a thorough background check, I don’t see why not—”

“Because you are wanted by INTERPOL, the FBI, the CIA, Mossad, Hezbollah, the Russian SVR, NYPD, LAPD, and the Cook County Assessor’s Office for $5,000 in back owed property taxes!” 

Combeferre practically shouted the last bit, and Enjolras cocked his head. “I’m pretty sure Courfeyrac added that last one to my file as a joke,” he said mildly, “seeing as how it’s the plot of the Blues Brothers.”

 “That’s not the point—”

“No, the point is, I need to lie low until the heat from any and all of those dies down,” Enjolras said, with conviction. “And the sane thing to do is to flee to a non-extradition island somewhere and wait it out.”

“Exactly, the sane thing—”

“And the predictable thing.” Combeferre fell silent and Enjolras paused before asking, “Can you honestly tell me that you think the CIA is going to come looking for me in a suburb in middle America? Let alone Mossad, or the SVR?”

Combeferre sighed, and Enjolras knew he had already won. “I think we can safely assume that the CIA is going to come looking for you wherever they pick up your trail.”

“Then we’ll do whatever we can to make sure I don’t leave one.” Enjolras half-smiled. “Come on, you have to admit, of all the asinine plans we’ve made, this one actually might work.”

“Maybe.” It was Combeferre’s turn to pause, and Enjolras knew he was readying his most convincing argument. “But what happens to Grantaire after three to five years?” Enjolras was silent, and Combeferre sighed again. “I have always supported you, and I’m not going to stop now, but this is a mistake.”

Enjolras shook his head. “I don’t think it is. Combeferre, you know me. You know that I’m not…sentimental. But Grantaire…” He trailed off and shook his head again. “He’s different. No questions, no demands, it’s like he already knows the truth about me and doesn’t care.”

“Then it’s even more of a mistake,” Combeferre said heavily.

“Maybe,” Enjolras echoed. “But the worst that can happen could happen anywhere, with anyone. So why not?”

Combeferre was silent for so long that Enjolras almost checked to make sure the call didn’t drop. Then, reluctantly, he said, “I’ll talk to Courfeyrac. We’ll get started on the arrangements. Let me know when you’re back stateside.”

“Thank you,” Enjolras said softly. He hung up and turned the phone over in his hands, removing the SIM card with practiced fingers before casually dropping the phone off of the balcony.

And just in time, as moments later, Grantaire stepped out onto the balcony, yawning widely. “What are you doing up?” he asked sleepily, wrapping his arms around Enjolras waist from behind and dropping a kiss onto his bare shoulder.

Enjolras turned to face him. “Couldn’t sleep,” he said. “I was thinking about what you asked me.”

Hesitation flickered across Grantaire’s expression. “I know it’s only been a few days—”

“Yes.”

Grantaire blinked. “Yes – yes what?”

Enjolras smiled. “Yes, I will marry you.”

A grin spread slowly across Grantaire’s face. “Seriously?” he breathed, and when Enjolras nodded, he let out a whoop before pulling Enjolras close and kissing him. “You’re not going to regret this, I promise.”

“I know,” Enjolras told him, closing his eyes as Grantaire pulled him in again.

He’d had worse covers, after all.

And how bad could three to five years of marriage be?

>>Read Part 2>>

[rising-volteccers]

Hiii hope you're having a great day! If you're still taking requests. Can you do a short fic with the prompt "you’re not getting rid of me that easily. " with Friede and Orla (platonic or romantic, your choice)

THANKS <33

Episode 18 still lives rent free in my mind so have another what if scene based on it! I've also become pretty fond of their ship too since learning of their connection so here you go! Hopefully it's an enjoyable read!

Series: Pokemon Horizons

Characters: Friede, Orla

--

Orla had been going through the somewhat dull, repetitive motions of her construction job until she received an unexpected visit from Friede. It appeared that he still had the habit of popping in and out of her life as he pleased, not that she minded too much. While they kept in touch ever since she moved to Hoenn, it became harder for them to see each other in person over time. Adulthood pretty much kept them busy so Friede’s unannounced visit while she was on the clock didn’t exactly pleased her but she supposed it was nice to see him again. 

That was until he made that outrageous request. Friede was a brilliant man in his own right but at times, she genuinely questioned what went on in his mind. 

"Are you an idiot?" Orla had blurted out in her surprise. Really, he wanted her to repurpose a fishing boat into a fully functioning airship? The first time in years they met up and he dropped that on her? Orla knew other engineers that would laugh him out of the room for coming up with such a preposterous idea. 

"Can you do it?" Friede responded instead in this mildly challenging tone. His expression, with that smirk and slight tilt of his eyebrows, spoke about the confidence he had in her skills. 

Orla tugged the brim of her hard hat down, took a deep breath before meeting his smirk with a grin of her own. “I’ll just have to try!”

For the first time in awhile, Orla felt excitement bubbling within her. Finally she had a good challenge to sink her teeth into. Her job offered her good pay but it didn’t provide her the mental stimulation she genuinely craved. She had full confidence in her skills as an engineer but lacked the opportunity to showcase it until Friede’s outlandish request.

Orla supposed that part of him never changed. Even back when they were kids, he made her life a lot more exciting. She supposed that was why she held a fondness for him that never faded even as distance kept them apart. 

She had to negotiate with her employer about using company equipment on what amounted to a personal project but she reached an agreement in the end. A part of her wondered whether they simply wanted to see whether she could pull this off. Orla wasn’t blind to the ridicule going on behind her back once word got around about this project.

Instead of letting their words get to her, it simply fueled the fire within her to prove her skills. Despite the seemingly spontaneous request, Friede didn’t actually came by unprepared. He showed her the basic layout of the airship he envisioned that Orla eventually ironed out into a functional design since he planned on flying this all around the world.

The construction itself took a couple of months. Orla worked on the project little by little–she still had to do her regular job but thankfully with reduced hours and lesser responsibility–day in and day out. She built around the Asagi, strengthening the foundation before expanding and adding new features.

Friede visited her from time to time as well. Building this airship meant nothing if he didn’t have the proper qualifications to fly it so he spent his days studying to earn himself a license, not to mention going through the process of legally flying through multiple regions. Each time he stated how impressed he was by the progress made, reinvigorating her to see this creation come to fruition. 

At last, after months of time, effort and resources sunk into this project, Orla unveiled the completed airship to Friede. Pleased as pie to see him thoroughly floored, she decided to act upon a thought she had whilst making the newly dubbed Brave Asagi. 

“Let me ride with you,” she said, leaning back against the railing. “The ship will need maintenance, right? I was just getting bored with my job.”

Orla realized that she wanted to see her creation in action. When she pictured flying high in the sky as they soared to new horizons, staying at a construction site became unappealing. While this project gave her plenty of headaches, it was the most fun she had ever since she became a fully fledged engineer. 

Besides, she doubt that Friede had the skill set to keep up with the airship maintenance. The idea of traveling together with him reminded her of their shared childhood too. 

Thus Orla joined the newly formed Rising Volt Tacklers. Together with Friede, Ludlow and Captain Pikachu, they’d travel around this vast world.

…or so she thought. They still had preparations to do before the Brave Asagi could embark on its maiden voyage. Orla had done the majority of her part so it rested on Friede in getting them approved for takeoff. She didn’t envy him at all when it came to all the paperwork he had to do. 

Just like how she’d seen him for the past week or so, during one calm afternoon, she popped into the meeting room to find him with his head on the table. Several stacks of paper were displayed in a semi circle around him. Captain Pikachu was nowhere to be seen, apparently having left his trainer to this nightmare on his own. 

“Knock knock,” she said by way of greeting. “I brought some lunch to ease your suffering.”

Friede raised his head, shooting her a grateful look. If she didn’t know any better, she thought there were tears in his eyes.

“Oh Orla you’re my hero. My savior.”

“Alright, laying on a little thick there,” Orla replied with an amused shake of her head. Friede eagerly accepted the offered paper bag. She got him his favorite sandwich from one of Slateport City’s many restaurants. 

While Friede dug into his lunch like a ravenous man, she ate her own portion in a slower pace. She waited until he was halfway through his sandwich before asking.

“So, how’s it going?”

Friede first washed down his current bite with the juice she also got. “It’s making me wanna tear my hair out but I wanna say that, barring a sudden new policy that makes everything here obsolete and I will cry if that happens, I should have the paperwork ready to be reviewed come next Monday.”

“I was about to make a comment but I decide to be nice instead and say that I’m sure things would go well. This is the last hurdle we need to get over before my baby’s fit to fly, yeah?”

Friede’s expression lit up. “Yeah! I’ve got my license and we’ve gone over the logistics of flying the Brave Asagi so many times that I’m having nightmares about it that when we get approved, we can finally leave Slateport.” 

Orla mimicked his grin. “I’m really looking forward to that day. I’m confident that this ship will fly but it’s different to actually see it happen, you know?”

“I get it. Like I fly around on Charizard but it’s going to be different when I steer this ship into the sky. You get to see what me and Cap see, too.”

Seeing his earnest smile, Orla sipped on her own juice to distract her from the mild warmth to her cheeks. She couldn’t hide her own smile, though. 

“I’m sure it’ll be a wonderful sight–unless it storms. At some point we’ll have to test the integrity of the shields. Those are new technology from Devon Corp and while I trust their products, it’ll be nice to see how it actually holds up.” Orla briefly narrowed her eyes at him. “This does not mean that I want us to fly straight into a storm anytime soon.”

“What do you take me for? Of course I’m not going to do that on our maiden voyage,” Friede replied, sporting a faint pout.”

“Good. If things break so soon, I will demand that payment from you.” The teasing threat made the pout deepen.

“You said that you didn’t need it so no take backsies.” Once he realized what slipped out of his mouth, Friede reddened slightly from embarrassment.

Orla, on the other hand, covered her mouth from the sudden burst of giggles. “Take backsies? I haven’t heard that since we were kids.”

“Well, you get what I mean.” Friede bit into his sandwich with more ferocity, as if the act of his chewing could ease his embarrassment.

She decided to take pity on him just this once. Admittedly, it made her a little? Giddy? That he hadn’t forgot stuff from their childhood. Orla knew that he struggled with his memory at times so knowing that something that they shared still remained in his mind was…

“You know, I think we’ll need more people,” Friede eventually spoke up.

“What, already thinking about replacing me? You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” she replied, entirely teasing him by this point.

“Don’t be ridiculous. No one can replace you Orla. You’re one of a kind.” The ease in which he said that left her briefly stunned, not that he noticed. “What I meant is that it’s realistically difficult to run the ship with the two of us. I’m not going to push Gramps into doing the hard work so we’ll be doing the bulk of it.”

Orla took a moment to ease her emotions before responding. “You’re right. What sort of roles do you want filled on the ship?”

“A cook for starters,” Friede replied, tapping a finger on the table’s surface. “You’ll be busy with the engine room while I steer the ship until we can reach the altitude to turn on auto pilot. I can do the cooking but depending on the sort of weather we face, meal time’s going to be all over the place.”

“True. I don’t think I can handle your cooking all the time anyway.” She flashed him a teasing smile at the wounded look he shot her. “Kidding but yeah, I vote for getting a cook. I’d also propose in getting someone with proper medical knowledge. Health is important, not to mention we don’t know what would happen during our travels. In case there’s an emergency and we’re far from the nearest health facility, having an on deck nurse or doctor is a must.”

“You’re right. While I could put out ads for it, a part of me just… want whoever that joins us is because they wanted to you know?”

Orla hummed, briefly closing her eyes. “I get what you mean. The Brave Asagi’s essentially going to be our base of operations. We’d want everyone to be on board, literally and figuratively, to keep it running smoothly.”

“Exactly but I also don’t wanna put too much burden on your shoulders…”

Here, Orla opened her eyes, fondness gleaming within them. It swiftly changed into a mildly challenging look, lips set into a grin. “Don’t worry your pretty little head there. Who did you think created this baby?”

Friede stared at her before wordlessly shaking his head. His mildly concerned look was replaced with a matching grin. “Course I know. It’s created by the greatest engineer I know!”

“Don’t you dare forget it! I’m all for finding new people for our crew but I want it to be natural, yeah? Maybe you’ll find folks to charm into joining.” Aside from me, she added privately.

“Nah, if someone’s going to lay on the charm, it’d be Cap! I mean, who could resist him?”

For a moment, Orla thought he meant someone else but she supposed that was to be expected with him. He wasn’t entirely wrong too. Cap had loads of charming potential.

“I suppose but before we discuss this more in-depth, I think someone should get back to his paperwork.”

Friede’s expression quickly fell as he stared at the stacks before him. Orla chuckled, rising from her seat to grab the wrappers so she could throw them away. 

“I’m sure you’ll get it done soon. Just think about how good it’ll feel when it gets approve and we’ll be soaring through the sky, yeah?” She reached out to place a hand on his shoulder, giving him a comforting squeeze.

Friede sighed, craning his neck back till he could look up at her. “Thanks Orla. Do you think you can grab dinner too later? Maybe from that nice seafood restaurant we went to last Saturday?”

Orla rolled her eyes good naturedly. “Alright, I’ll continue to play errand girl a little while longer just because you’re working hard.”

“Thanks Orla, you’re the best!” Even if she tried to keep her expression neutral, she found herself smiling regardless at the wide beam he shot her. She just about resist the impulsive desire to ruffle his hair.

Instead, she held out her hand towards his. Friede’s beam impossibly grew larger as he responded by performing the handshake they’ve created back when they were kids. 

Now it served as their connection in being members of the Rising Volt Tacklers.

[stiffyck]

I haven’t even watched tcd, I didn’t even know it was a thing until I started hearing about it from you and now I’m thinking about it so hard.

I keep thinking about the whole “would scar hurt cleo thing” (hi that anon was me) and how far would that actually pushed. Cleo thinks it’s just one of those quirks the hermits have the first couple of times Scar snipes her out of the blue, maybe a prank she wasn’t aware of. Then one time Scar is closer when he fires and she doesn’t miss the way his face looks, cold and calculated with zero remorse, like an entirely different person and she doesn’t forget it.

The next few times it happens, she pays more attention to where he is. When she finds him on top of a room from a good 50 blocks away, she realizes just how good of a shot he is. He’s precise, and doesn’t hesitate, which is odd for the guy she sees a death message for at least once a day over something as small as tripping into a cavern.

Scar doesn’t ever say sorry. There was never a chest for her stuff. He’s gone without a trace by the time she gets back, the only indicator ever being the repeated ZombieCleo was shot by GoodTimesWithScar lighting up the chat, sometimes in intervals of two or three deaths in a row.

Joe asks her one day “Who’s winning?” and she asks him “to what?” “That game you and Scar are playing.” She stares at him for a good minute before quickly bidding Joe a goodbye and rushing off in the direction of Scar’s base.

She thinks she probably should have expected getting nailed in the face with an arrow (again) after knocking on the door. Either way, she comes back, her items on Scar’s living room floor. For once, he’s there, staring at the items with this look on his face that she can’t decipher. She snaps at him (arguably, a little more mean than she meant) detailing the last month and a half of arrows slung at her. And to her surprise, he just starts bawling.

He was too embarrassed about the repeated hits on her to show himself afterwords, but always stuck around to make sure none of her things despawned. He was too embarrassed that he was afraid of her, a friend, whenever she got within his field of view. He was terrified he would be asked to leave if anyone else found out what he was doing wasnt for fun. It was deliberate. And to his surprise, Cleo instead offered nothing but comfort and understanding.

Every once and awhile, even after he eventually got comfortable enough to share why he had been doing it all, she still hears the whistle of an arrow and a death message from Scar (more so when he donned that “Hotguy” thing). Cleo finds she doesn’t mind it as much. Especially when Scar is there picking up her stuff with a lopsided smile she recognizes, a slight shake to his hands, and an apology on his lips. Scar finds, for the first time since he was a teen, that he doesn’t mind a zombie’s touch.

THIS GOT WAY LONGER THAN I MEANT IT TO I AM SO SO SORRY.

OHHH MY GODDD I LOVE THIS SM

[brunchbitch]

thought i would do an update since it's been a while!

9/27/23

things are going well with settling in to seattle! i'm doing lots of wedding stuff - got measured for my dress and had a makeup trial last week so it's starting to feel real! 10 months from today! next steps are sending out save the dates and deciding on catering, which will be fun bc we get to taste test everything.

a is doing well! he is taking a creative writing course that starts this week, and hockey starts this week as well. the seattle kraken have an adult league with over 100 teams (!!). he had tryouts (i almost wrote auditions lol) a couple weeks ago and got placed in the second highest division! i'm excited to go see some games, but the first one is tomorrow night at 10:45!!!! so if that's any indication of average game times, maybe i won't make it lol.

it has been raining every day for about five days now... it's reminding me of one of the hardest parts of living in seattle. i need to invest in a happy lamp and get some vitamin d.

as for the job front, i'm feeling frustrated and, before calling the DOH this morning, very confused about my path towards being a licensed independent clinical social worker (licsw). the requirements are pretty different in seattle. you start out getting licensed as a social worker associate advanced (lswaa), which basically means i have the necessary education but haven't gotten required post grad supervision to apply for the next level, which is a licensed advanced social worker (lasw). i'm required to obtain 3200 hours of supervised experience under an licsw which, full time, would be about a year and a half. then i apply to be an lasw, and once i'm approved i can take my sw generalist exam. THEN to become an licsw, i need 4000 additional supervised hours (~2 years full time). so 3.5 years working full time before i can get my licsw, and then have to take the clinical exam. in ma, it would've taken 2 years to get my licsw. i'm not sure why wa state requires so much more, but it explains why the pay ranges have been higher than what i expected.

i've been studying for the exam, bc that's what would be the next step in boston. so that was wasted time lol. hopefully some of it will stick in my brain so i'm not starting from square one when i start studying again in ~a year and a half. so now i really need to just focus on getting a job. i've had one interview and they never even got back to me. i probably would've turned down the job anyway (not exactly what i was looking for - a lot of independent time and not much of an ability to collaborate with other social workers, which i think is important being a new grad), but it still would've been nice to be offered the job lol. i've been getting so discouraged but trying to remind myself that something will work out eventually. even if i hate the job, i can stick it out until i get my supervised hours at least. and then i can look elsewhere.

i have a screening today for a job that is pretty close by my house. it's a primary care center that serves a lot of people who have high resource needs. i was hoping for a more acute setting (like inpatient hospital), but it does seem some of the patients would be pretty acute. so we'll see how the screening goes.

mental health is good - i've really appreciated being able to see L again. still smoking a shit ton, which concerns her, but trying to do better this week.

luna and lia are good - they've definitely adjusted. lia is sleeping on top of her cat tree right now hehe. unfortunately luna is getting a dental done at the vet right now and she had to have two tooth extractions :(. she's had several extractions before due to resorptive lesions, but the last few years her teeth have been good so i was hoping they wouldn't have to take any out. so she'll be on pain medication for a few days, but she's been through that before. i'm going to shower her with love when she gets home!

[dowhatisaynotwhatido]

The wine

Paring: Y/N x Wanda

Description: Just a seat-and-tea small drabble

Warning: none. Just fluff

It was a windy April the first time you decided to shield yourself in a small restaurant on your new neighborhood. You had recently moved into town, and you didn't know your surroundings very well, considering how busy you were.

As a nurse, you got use to your new job and late shifts over the last few week, but have never given yourself some time to appreciate the local commerce.

The restaurant was tiny, 10 tables at maximum. It had a book nook flare, serving wine, cheese plates and homemade pasta. The light was dim and the front of the store held a big window towards the calm street pass it. On the afternoon it worked as a semi cafe-wine bar, and you quickly turned that place on your crossword/sudoku bar for your Tuesdays evening.

A few weeks after your routine had settled, you were sitting by the window when you heard the door. Usually you pay no mind, but the crossword was proven itself a challenge so you humpfed and kept checking your surroundings. That was when you first saw her. A red hair, green eyes, fair skin, strong woman.

She came in with a closed expression which turned to a welcoming smile as she got to the counter to acknowledge the old lady who owned the place. You couldn't hear what she said, but they seemed friendly.

Over the next Tuesdays you frequently saw the woman there. Always in the same seat, with a book and a glass of red wine. Some days she was cranky and hard, another she was light as a breeze. Yes, you started to anticipate Tuesdays in a way you couldn't explain - that woman was consuming every spare time you had.

She caught you staring at her more than a few times, and you had the sensation of her staring back at you a few other. Not that you had the guts to do anything about it, you were a perfect romantic coward.

---WANDA'S POV

The woman was there again. She had been there for the last couple of months, every week. She became a regular when I was on a mission, according to Susan - the owner. She always sat there, on the seat that was my spot, and did her crosswords.

The first time I saw her there, I was just irritated with her stealing the window. Susan even offered to gently tell the regular that I was there first, but I couldn't find in my heart to do it. She always came in looking troubled, did her little crosswords and leave humming. She was beautiful and her reflexes back to the window dim light was a sight I wanted to commit to memory.

I found myself lost in my book every Tuesday. The woman captivated me and, I am even embarrassed to admit, I might have stalked her a bit. Not in the creepy way!I tried to focus on listening to her thoughts every once in a while. But goddammit, the woman was an immigrant and her thoughts were in... Spanish? Portuguese? Italian? I don't know. She thought often about her crosswords answers and what it seemed to be remarks about people. I couldn't quite understand it and that got me frustrated. So frustrated that I might have "googled her" - as in the Avenger's Stark way.

She was Y/N, 31 yo, nurse, Brazilian, 5 years living in Canada, recently moved in NY. So simple. And easy. And light. How could I have a crush like a teenager on someone who I haven't even spoken to?

It was already August when her thoughts finally became clear to me. She was making a English crossword. Oh, sorry, let me correct that. She was trying and failing hard to do a English crossword. That was funny. She did the hardest Portuguese one, and she was struggling with " 5 letters - the popes hat". < Come on, 'M-I-T-E-R'. You can do it. > she was stubborn, you quickly realized. She didn't look it up or took a quick look in the answer sheet. She stayed there for 2 hours trying to do all the other ones and find it out letter by letter.

The week after that I had a mission and couldn't go to the restaurant. Jesus, can you believe I missed the woman? How is that even possible. I did punch one or two guys a little harder than needed when I thought about her siting there alone as someone with actual guts hit on her. Argh! Ops, I punched someone again. "I am going to do something about it next week"

----- Y/N POV

The first thing you noticed that day was that it felt weird. The red haired wasn't there. After months of sharing the same routine, you felt her absence like a hollow feeling in your chest. Susan told you that Wanda - that was her name- often traveled and stayed out of town sometimes for months. It got you anxious thinking about not seeing her for that long. You craved her, her perfume, her giggles to herself, her polite nod towards you everytime you were caught staring.

She didn't come back for 2 other weeks, and your crossword was still killing you. You'd decided to make a English book, but it was so hard, that you were secretly hoping your wine glass would fall and ruin it, so you had an excuse to buy another -Portuguese- one.

"Miter" you heard above you. You turned pissed of. How dare this stranger just give you the answer you have been looking for weeks? Your pride was hurt and... the mothafucker was right! You wrote down the answer before taking a deep breath and turning to the stranger, you were ready to peel her down when you looked up and found the red haired with a playful smile. God, she was even more beautiful from this close.

"T-thank you" - You stuttered

"I am sorry. I just couldn't bare to watch you frown down that word for another Tuesday" She giggled "I thought you would be done with it after 3 weeks" She grinned.

She still had her purse on, so you knew she had just came into the restaurant and haven't sat down to her usual spot yet.

"Well, I would get it eventually." You shrugged it off with a small smile " but since you are here.... Do you happen to know a three word 'French delicatessen' that starts with an T?"

She smiled "I do. But you have to pay me a wine first"

"Deal" you smiled nodding her to seat across from you.

[thunda-bird]

Some years back when I was in nursing school, there was an issue where I failed a clinical placement as a direct result of being given an absolutely incompetent mentor. She hadn't even been a nurse at the clinical location for long enough to qualify as a mentor to student nurses; something I found out about when it was too late to change anything. This woman lied to my face. I'd ask questions, I'd always be assured by my mentor that my performance was great, but she was giving opposite feedback to the college / facility liaison supervisor. I read her feedback and there were incidents described that were utter fiction. The woman who was my mentor was just generally, an awful awful person. I got swapped between 5 different mentors in the course of a month. This was at the height of the pandemic, I'm a 2021 nursing graduate. So my lab time had already been nuked and there were practical skills I never got to practice in lab, and everyone's clinical time was already running on a "condensed" scheduled as a result. So all this time having to be spent proving my skills over and over to new mentors before they could confidently let me care for patients on my own, meant my actual useful independent on-unit time was decimated. My entire experience was botched from day one and my mental health was never worse in my life than it was during clinical placement. I just kept it getting worse and worse feedback and I felt like I was on a treadmill, i was trying as I possibly could and nothing was fixing this shitty feedback I was getting. I learned far too late that these mentors weren't giving me honest feedback to my face and they didn't give a fuck about me. I was having anxiety attacks daily by the time they told me I failed. On one of my last days on the unit, we had a patient who was prescribed Ativan and I was asking questions to my mentor about different medications. I personally have an Ativan prescription because I have severe anxiety. I was asking my mentor "Is it possible to overdose on Ativan? Could Ativan be fatal if given in excess?" and I phrased it all like genuine questions, I pretended I'd never encountered Ativan before. In reality I was trying to get my mentor to help me figure out how much Ativan I'd have to save up to kill myself.

The day before being told I failed, I already knew. I called my parents and told them "This whole thing is making me feel like I don't want to be here anymore. Do you understand what I'm talking about when I say: Don't want to be here anymore?"

They said "This is not a conversation we should be having over the phone. Pack a bag for overnight, we're coming to get you, you're staying with us tonight."

The next day, I was told I failed my placement and I'd have to redo it. Couple days after that, I got a letter in the mail from my college telling me I made Dean's List for my excellent grades that same semester and I broke down sobbing.

I needed time to save up money to pay the fee to redo clinical, and have money in the bank so I could get through 6 weeks of full-time clinical and part-time employment. Seven months later when I redid my placement, I had one mentor the entire time. She was kind, she was honest, she was incredibly knowledgeable. I told her about my previous experience once I knew she was genuine. She told me that facility where I'd done my first placement has an awful reputation for bullying among staff. My mentor told me she'd been offered a job there multiple times and instantly turned it down each time because it is infamous for its toxic, catty work environment. On the last day of my second placement, I was told I passed with flying colors and all was well. At the end of the day I walked out of the facility and I sat in my car and I broke down sobbing in the parking lot because I knew for certain that I would've graduated the first go round if they'd given me a better mentor.

I went through all the notes I'd taken throughout the entire shitshow of my first placement, I pulled out fine-print quotes from student placement handbooks and facility mentor guidelines and I wrote out in full, item-by-item, how badly they fucked up. I had full receipts: dates, times, names, everything. I requested and received a letter from my psychotherapist giving professional testimony that I was her patient, and I had suicidal ideation and extreme distress in a timeline consistent with my placement experience i.e. this is a mental health professional attesting that I was in legitimate, severe distress during sessions on these dates. I wrote out this document and stressed over it for weeks. I had my parents look over each iteration of the document; my Dad works in a HR position in the government so he knows professionalism.

What I wanted was a change to my transcript to indicate a "Withdrawal" instead of "Failure" on my first placement, and a refund of the fees I had to pay to redo it, because I attested with all this proof that these people fucked up BAD.

I submitted the document, I got an answer within minutes from the nursing coordinator at the college, saying that there's nothing they can do because I needed to submit this document within 5 days of being told I failed, to be eligible for an academic appeal hearing. I explained, hey, I didn't do that because I was ready to fucking kill myself because of how bad my first placement experience was. I applied for an extenuating circumstance in appeal submission for health reasons. It was several months of agonizing back-and-forth with all these different admin beaucratic blahblahblah at the college. They wouldn't budge. I looked into a paralegal, it was more money than I could afford to spend on pursuing the issue.

I had a lot of friends in nursing school but because failing my first placement made it so I wouldn't graduate with the rest of my class, I let those relationships fade away. I was too ashamed to tell anyone what had happened. I didn't want anyone to know I failed. I didn't go to my graduation ceremony. I contacted the college and requested they omit my name from any lists of graduates they were publishing from the semester I graduated. When my diploma came in the mail I put it in a drawer without opening the envelope. It's still there, unopened, right now.

A few months after passing my second placement, I got a job offer from the facility where I'd done that placement. I accepted it. I'm still there today. I won an award last month for outstanding feedback from patients & families, outstanding patient care.

I looked over that document the other day and I thought going into it, 'I'm now a few years removed from that bad experience. Maybe I'll look at this and see that maybe I was unreasonable or unprofessional?'

No. I imagine being a third party reading this document and the fact is, that place where I did my first placement FUCKED UP. They didn't set me up to succeed at all. The experience I had there was so fucked up, I still have a lot of issues from it that I think will continue to take a long time to heal from. It's hard to accept that there's nothing I can do about it, nothing will ever be done at this point that can set it right. It's hard to accept that sometimes people get away with being awful.

[chaoscoffeeandbaddays]

I haven't forgotten. Since my last post, my sister boxed up all my stuff from my parents house so she can move in there, and under the cover of night without a word to me, dumped 5, yes FIVE, SUV carloads of my stuff in my driveway. And when I called her out on how shit that was to do without texting me, she sends this whole effing diatribe on how me being on a single income isnt her fault, me being a hoarder isnt her fault, me being LAZY isnt her fault. Apparently, leaving my stuff there when I was forced to move into a TENT was TAKING ADVANTAGE of my parents. I started moving stuff into a storage unit and even though Dad told me not to and that it could stay, I still did move out what I could fit in the storage unit. I continued paying board for MONTHS after I left because my stuff was still there, until Mum DEMANDED I stop. But yes, I'm 'taking advantage'. She decided she wanted to move in by the end of July but renovate first and I told her straight up that I had my first house inspection June 28th and couldnt move anything before then, I was still unpacking and cleaning my new house right up until the moment the agent arrived for the inspection. I even called in sick the night before and worked through the night to have it ready. My fibro and arthritis make me epically slow. I try my best but I cant just try the pain away.

Anyway, she 'gets' that I have pain but that doesnt excuse me 'making other people wait until I can be bothered'. I dont have a problem with her boxing up my stuff. So its out of her way. I dont have a problem with her bringing it over. I have a big problem with her not saying a word and sneaking over in the middle of the night to leave it all in my driveway. The driveway of my rental, on a main street where my landlord could drive past at any time. Just a simple text it would have been fine and she could have saved both our backs by not bringing the stuff that was to go in the trailer for the tip ( a trailer I couldnt fill with my stuff myself because it was still full of HER stuff).

Mum and Dad are putting the house in mine and my sister's names with a granny-flatting clause, so we can inherit the house while they are alive, not have stamp duty or capital gains tax on it, but we have to keep a roof over their heads the rest of their lives. It doesnt have to be THAT roof, we just have to house them. It surprised me when my sister said she wanted to buy ME out because she had always been clear that she didnt want it. But I'm glad because I could no longer live with Dad and wasnt in a position to buy her out. She asked if she could not pay me out until next year when she came back from Japan and I was like "hey thats fine" she was putting a lot of money to the renovations before moving in so why not have her being able to live rent free for a few months to save up for a nice holiday before having to buckle down under a mortgage. See, once the house is in joint names, if one of us is living there, the other is entitled to their half of the rental value. But she's my sister, I wasn't going to ask her to pay rent to me just because my name is on the title. Besides, I knew it would take me a long time to finish getting my stuff out. I even offered to leave the bed, TV, and a couple of cabinets, so my old room would already be set up as a guest bedroom. She never said no thanks, she actually said "ok, cool." Then, when she dumped everything here, it included those things, things she KNEW were never coming here. But I digress. Half rent for my parents' place would be about what I'm paying for rent in the tiny house I'm in now. It would make my life so much easier. I would be able to afford the physical therapies that I haven't been able to in a long time. It would do wonders for my life and my health. But it was money I wouldn't have had anyway, so I could wait another year to get my health back on track, if it made it easier for her. My only sister.

She doesnt think she's done anything wrong. And is now saying she doesnt want to move in there and she'll tell our narcissistic father that I'm coming back. I dont think that apple fell far from the tree. I cant get it through her head that ALL SHE HAD TO DO WAS TEXT ME TO ASK WHAT TO BRING AND WHAT TO PUT IN THE TRAILER INSTEAD OF SNEAKING AROUND. Now, according to my father and her partner, I'm the one in the wrong. Because I said that's shit and disrespectful behaviour and if she doesnt have enough respect for me to send me a simple text message, why should I give up a year of rental income that's almost as much as I earn in a year. Oh that's right, because it's not HER fault I'm poor.