#migraine mercenary

[the-migraine-mercenary]

How to be prepared that a movie will trigger a migraine.

I highly recommend the website, doesthedogdie.com

They have categories for flashing lights and images, misophonia triggers, and triggers for PTSD or phobias of all kinds.

You can look up by the title of whatever media you chose- whether movie, book, comic, etc.

I highly recommend this website to anyone that wants to avoid a migraine or avoid a trigger for their mental health’s sake.

[the-migraine-mercenary]

The migraine community has these problems of having their migraines mistaken for headaches, but your pain is valid!

We Experience bring medically gaslight to simply drink more water, exercise, and lose weight. And while those can help, those simply won’t cut it.

Your pain is valid. Your pain is legitimate. And you know your body’s pain is important to address!

I wish you well in your fight against migraines!

I hate you ocular migraines i hate you light sensitivity i hate you debilitating headache i hate you fuzzy vision i hate you nausea so bad that i start vomiting bile i hate you unsympathetic workmates who tell me to stop being a baby and pop some advil i hate you i hate you

[444st4rg1rl]

Roomies

18+ , 5.5k words

tags : roommate!reader, female!reader, sorta sidekick!reader, roommate!Logan, roommate!Wade, Best Friend!Wade, enemies to lovers, harsh words, very tiny angst, smut, oral sex (f) , unprotected p in v, fingering (f), cursing. 

a/n: I couldn’t get this idea out of my head, also small spoilers to Deadpool & Wolverine. 

The one where you fucking hate your new roommate, but shit he’s also kinda hot. 

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“You think Murdock is willing to take a roommate?

Wade has made himself comfortable in his bed in his room, the one out of two rooms in his apartment that is housing three people. It was nice when it was just you and Wade, best buds, partners in crime, pookie and shookie.  Whatever the fuck, it had always been you and Wade. Now it’s you, Wade and Logan. Possibly the worst fucking addition to the duo. Doesn’t he know there is always a duo in a trio?

“Gasp! Is it because of the smell? Because pookie no where deep in reddit told me how to clean up-”

You put your hand up to stop him, face full of confusion yet the sheer idea of whatever Wade has to say next kills the curious cat roaming in your thoughts. You lean on his door frame - the doors not fully open out of fear but it’s enough to not want to step foot deep in the room - and closed enough for your eyes to be saved from the atrocity he was talking about. 

“Wade, please, I can’t fucking take it anymore I am fucking loosing it. I can’t even get water without seeing that sad sack of shit mopping on our fucking couch! It’s sad, Wade, if you loved me you'd kick him out.”

The childish ultimatum is dumb but maybe the puppy dog eyes you have going on as you stare at Wade big eyed and faux sadness. Overall this is childish of you, to beg your best friend to kick out the guy who just had to fucking help you save the world seems pathetic and rude of you. But who gives a fuck? Logan is rude, an arrogant asshole, a prick, douche, down-under fucker. He is the worst hero? you have had the displeasure of meeting. But no, God strikes you down on your hatred of this old man once more; he makes him hot.

“How could you say that about a war veteran?” 

The sarcasm combined with Wade talking to Mary Puppins like a baby rather than looking at you, has you wishing Cassandra killed you herself back when she had the chance. It was interesting to say the least, getting thrown into a rag team with Wade and being told to save the multiverse was not your usual mission but hey, money is money. That wasn’t really your style, the whole big hero sham. Vigilante, mercenary, the people's people, too hot to handle, now that’s just one big umbrella term you’d throw yourself under. You met Wade when he wasn’t deadpool and you were some weird eighteen year old who was a little too good with knives and way too lucky to be alive. It felt natural then and there to just fall under his wing and have him throw you out there, figuratively and literally (there was the 32 floor incident and the scars to prove it). Your thankful for it even if it means some scars and permanent migraine because twenty-three year old you now has the confidence to throw a kitchen knife that was embedded in the wall next to you- right into Wades head and slam the door shut, something eighteen year old would have hesitated to do at first. 

“Nice clothes ya got there, Bub.”

Logan’s deep voice rattles through your system, spiking your nervous system higher than it normally is around him, (usually very high). You spin around from Wade’s door, the curse you had ready to drip off your tongue is gathered right back into your mouth after you get a look at him. Tall, dark, so big and strong; the words Karen Page had uttered to you the first time she saw Logan after you and Wade had brought him around the group you guys converse in. The words that had haunted you at night, the nights where you catch him and Wade fighting and his massive arms are on display for you to shamelessly stare at or the nights where you curse what God you might have pissed off in your past multiverses that put your very thin bedroom wall right next to the shower wall. Hearing The Wolverine, the one that you had read in comics growing up, untouchable and badass Wolverine, was the one you heard bite down on his knuckles to quiet down his deep groans as he got himself off in the shower. You close your eyes to regain what you were gonna say and look at Logan.

“Thanks, go fuck yourself.”

You turn to make the small trek to your room, looking down at clothes Logan had chosen to comment on. An oversized and stretched t-shirt that has Spider-man's logo on it, the shirt long enough to reach your thighs so like always you for-go the pants. You're not gonna change your comfiness for one person who decided to be a roach in your living room. 

Logan’s large hand on your wrist is what gets your anger sparking as he stops you from entering your room. 

“Can I fucking help you?”

Harsh words cut through your mouth as you remove your wrist from his hand, if you were to miss the warmth it provided, then well that’s later you in your bed problem. 

“Are you going with Wilson tomorrow?”

Tomorrow, a day job that you and Wade had picked up, some bullshit, go kill this person,yadda yadda, and here's the money. The main reason you're so excited? A day away from him. 

You don’t even bother to say yes, you nod your head at him, open your door, stare at him, ignore the smirk, and slam the door. Wait why the fuck did he make that face?

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Now, to be truthful you should have pushed back against Logan last night. Yelled and pushed for a fight on why did he care where you were going, why did he make that face at you. You really should have, instead you chose peace. Now you live with violence in the present. Your suit clings too tight to you right now and one of your knives is digging into your thigh and oh, fucking Logan is apparently is coming. There goes any excitement you had about the day trip away from the bastard. You give Wade the silent treatment in the apartment, on the way to the car, during his shameful ‘Careless Whisper’ performance in the car and halfway to the mission. Wade drives, it’s an amusing site to watch the rather large man sit in the driver seat of the 2008 Nissan Rogue (Hondas hold too much PTSD for the group). You make yourself comfortable in the passenger and try to tune out Logan seating himself in the back.

Wade leans over, not subtly, and puts a hand cupping around his masked mouth and whispers rather loudly-

“Is this because I washed your suit too tight? Or is it your allergy to cheap soaps? I know your skin is bougie, bestie.”

You're going to kill him, you and Logan. You go to grab at the stickshift in the center console to fuck up the car but Wade knows you to well and already has a hand on the stick shift. Hearing Logan chuckle has you moving quickly. A gun is pressed right to the center of his unfortunately gorgeous forehead and taking off the safetyas you make direct eye contact with him.

“I will fucking pull the trigger right now.”

“Ya know you won’t Bubs, you're too much of a pussy for that.”  

The familiar nickname sends a shiver down your spine, and a heat you're too known with through the lower parts of you but the anger from his doubting overshines like usual, intrusively you unbuckle your seat belt and jump in the back seat and pistol whip Logan across the face. 

Bad choice

Logan stares at you as the gash from the pistol is rapidly repairing itself but the bloody evidence makes itself permanent on his face. He’s quick to act, unbuckling his seatbelt and going to launch himself at you.

You don’t have any fancyshamchy powers of that sort, you heal fast, just like the other two in the car but not that fast, maybe a day or two. And you're lucky, one would call it a power and someone wouldn’t. But fuck your lucky you avoid Logans fast coming fist towards your head. You duck and lean back on the seat kicking your feet out to hit him in the stomach. He gets pushed back and his head hits the widow opposite of you hard and loud. The site has you cackling, from your view as your half laid down on the seat and one leg half up and the other hanging off the seat. Logan’s broad body is pushed up against the window. Your cackling comes to a yelp as Logan is quick to pounce on you. His large body pins yours down to the seat. One arm is quick to grab your hands, capturing them in one hand that he brings above your head. His other arm across your throat pressing down hard enough to cut off your air supply.

You blame the lack of air for the thought that pushes through your mind, the sight of him above you right now all furious and heated. His thick forearm heavy on your throat should have you kicking him immediately off you but you falter. The worst part? Logan notices. You're a second to late for your normal reaction time. You watch in slight horror as Logan realizes this above you. 

“Hey! Are you guys fucking back there? Listen I know where in the middle of enemies to lovers fanfic but C’MON!”

For fucking once Wade decided to be useful these past two days, you ignore his spewing but Logan seems distracted. You get the high ground and kick him off, shoving a baby knife into his neck and scrambling your ass back into the front seat by Wade. As you adjust yourself back into your seat, the feeling of hot slick between your thighs has become a rather uncomfortable problem that has aroused. You shift uncomfortably in your seat and make the mistake of catching Logan’s eyes in the rearview mirror and he gives you a sideways glance. Fuck, fucking mutants, fucking weird senses, fucking dog boy.

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If Logans being truthful, he never hated you. Hate’s too strong of a word, he does although despise you. Loathe, detest, revulse, abhorrence, those are the words Logan would use if someone asked him to describe his feelings towards you. The annoying girl who had saved the world with him and who he shares an apartment with. The very annoying girl who he wants to pummel into the ground, and then into a bed. 

Since the whole ‘we saved the universe now we gotta go back to New York and hey I guess you can come with us’ has happened to him has tested his patience. 

It’s rough adjusting to a new life let alone a new fucking universe and she makes it no better. Logan truly wants to hate her the way he portrays, he wonders if she gets tired of arguing all the time. Being so uptight and rude twenty-four seven, to have anger vibrate through her bones. Every conversation they had is laced with malice. 

“Why the fuck are you in my fridge.” - “I didn’t realize you owned the whole fridge, girl.’

“You're a reckless waste of space, I'm surprised Cassandra failed to kill you.” - “Ain’t yo whole team dead cause of you?”

“You sure Wilson’s just not pitying you, Bubs?” - “How are you over two hundred years old and you still can’t pull bitches?” 

She’s quick-witted, sharp tongued and annoyingly gorgeous. The moment Logan laid his eyes on you, he felt his blood spike faster to his heart and his dick. Pretty young girl covered in blood holding a 9 mm, he was enamored, then you opened your mouth and it was a wrap (discreet wrap). Hating you publicly and his shower thoughts is what he had lived by for the past two months yet here he sits now in the back of the car, Wades shitty pop playlist blasting, and the image of you pinned underneath of him with your big wide eyes staring up at him is burned into his head. You faltered, he saw it himself the way you went lax and the way you liked it. He’s not stupid, he bluntly watches as you push your way out from under and throw yourself back into the passenger seat. He can’t control it but he smells you, the way you have to squeeze your thigh together to get some relief. 

It sends him into a frenzy as he catches your glazed eyes in the rearview mirror, he curses himself as he feels his blood rush and his cock hardens in his suit. Fuck

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You're sure Wade is the only person who enjoyed the mission, the only part you enjoyed is the fat wad of cash that was pushed into your hand. The three of you shuffle into the car that is somehow still standing. The three of you all covered in various contrivances along with Wade's now missing left arm. The car getting stained with every movement mixed with the hot interior is worse than a crowded hallway in highschool. You roll your window down and let the cool air soothe over your skin like a new layer of skin.

“I can’t believe those perverted bastards took my arm! Hope they like jerking their dicks off with sandpaper because…’’  Wade’s nonsense lulls you to a slumber that makes you ache less. 

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You're a loudmouth, not as bad as Wade but you need your fix of arguing and winning. Which is what has you standing at your door thinking hard before you open it. 

Logan’s ignoring you, well, you're also ignoring him. You’ve both been trying to pretend the other doesn’t exist as one can in a 15x10 apartment layout. Just start some shit, call him fucking lazy or ugly. You psych yourself up ready to start the argument and win. The door opens and there you go sauntering out of it in your big t-shirt and no pants. Logan makes a quick glance towards your direction but otherwise seems preoccupied on the television in front of him . You stand in the kitchen behind him mouth agape as you struggle to think of the words, angrily you grab water and return back to your room.

This keeps happening, you and Logan keep avoiding each other, not more than sparing a glance. Of course, it’s Wade who says something. He catches you as you're in your room and Logans of and about in New York. 

“So did the Big Bad Wolf really eat your grandma, huh?”

“I'm gonna make you eat your grandma.”

“Kinky, but my grandma was a fierce woman.” He launches himself onto your bed and grabs your fluffy throw pillow to hold, Mary Puppins trailing in after Wade. ���But seriously pookie, this is odd behavior for you two. Y’know you guys are usually like cats and dogs after each other. Oh! You think the song ‘It’s Raining Men’ took into consideration ‘it's raining cats and dogs out”…....

“I hear Logan jerk off in the shower”

You're not completely sure why that's the first thing you say to Wade, but it shuts him up. He stares at you comically before he loudly gasps and goes to cover Mary Puppins ears before excitedly staring at you. If he wasn’t horrifically scarred you could almost compare him to a teen girl right now. 

“Sexual Tension! You have to fuck The Wolverine!”

You stare at Wade like he just said he was never going to shoot again.

“The fuck are you spewing about?”

You have no other choice but to listen to Wade spew about how to fix all your problems you have to fuck Logan. You get up as Wade is on his second speech on how to suck dick 101, you push him out of your room and depressingly stare at your wall before you realize. 

“Fuck!”

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After your conversation with Wade it's all that plagues your mind. The way the veins pop in his arms, how his chest looks in his wife beater. The dog tags that hand around his neck, you want to fall in front of your face and then choke him out. It catches up to you finally, after all you still share a kitchen with him. It's awkward, more awkward then a teen boy confessing his crush, it's kinda awkward where a two hundred year old mutant and a twenty three year old something of the sorts have a mutual hatred but sexual deviance of the other. 

It’s one-thirty four at night when you and Logan run into each other. You're grabbing a glass of water and he's sitting at the small Island nursing a beer. 

“Ya hate me so much Bubs you had to lock yourself away?”

You glare at him, eyes following the way he laughs at his own sentence and how his lips close around the top of his beer. You move your eyes up to catch his already glaring at you. You rack your mind to what to say, to embarrass him. 

“Bathroom walls are thin ya know, Old man.”

Got him. He freezes as he sets down his beer on the counter before continuing to stare at you, you smile at your upperhand in this. 

“Don’t know why you wanna piss me off so bad Old man, that's the only way you get it up?”

Low blow, but who cares. You certainly don’t as you watch as he racks his brain to say something. You beat him to it again.

“Why don’t you get yourself something nice, a bar, club, something. Or has it been too long for you to try anything with civilization?”

He stands up and fuck if he ain’t tall. You watch as he makes the small space in between you, he stands at his full. You reach about his shoulder so you have to lift your head to stare at him, he’s already staring down at you with a gleam in his eye. One of his hefty arms comes down on the counter behind you, caging you. His other arm rests by his side, an escape route if you still have the shreds of your dignity that tells you to leave, go back to your room and go to sleep. Yet Logan tilts his head at you and watches as his lips curl into a smirk. 

“Harsh accusations from someone-”

His words are cut off as you put a hand to cover his mouth, you just know he’s going to mention the moment in the car. Your chest are pressed together as you keep your hand tight around his mouth. Your eyes are filled with something akin to embarrassment but something else. 

“Shut it. That was a moment of weakness.”

Logan grabs your hand that's covering his mouth and holds it tightly in his hand, it’s when you don’t jerk your hand back that Logan cages you in with both arms. There goes my dignity. 

“Yeah Bubs, moment of weakness. That's why you've been avoiding me like the plague huh?” He comes closer to your face, one large hand sneaking up to grip at your chin. “Scared you might like it?”

No fucking way. You feel how your heart stops in your chest, how all you can do is have your eyes scan over his face. You push your thighs together in some relief from the feeling of molten lava being run through your system down to your panties. You lean your face closer to him. You grip your fingers hard in the marble counter behind you. Trying to hold on to whatever last bit of anger that is spurring through your body. 

“Didn’t you avoid me too huh? Don’t point fingers.”

It’s like it was a trigger that switched something inside of him. The hand that had been caging you in is holding your waist in a grip so taut you could feel the fingertip indents forming. Logan seizes your chin again, a quicker way to shut you up. 

“Fuck ya want me to, huh?” He leans his large figure down to be only inches away from each other's faces. The scowl on his face shouldn’t send a thrill down your body but any shreds of sensible thoughts have been thrown out the window moments before. Logan watches you intently, he sees how you have a remark ready to spit at him like poison. 

“I’ve watched you parade yourself around this fucking apartment like this-” he grips the edge of the long t-shirt your wearing “-and I had to do nothing about it.”

You should bunch up your shoulder, fight back, but it seems any of your usual inhibitions are clawed away when it comes to Logan. You're a simple girl at heart, your eyes catch how thick the arms that are encasing you and the moment the idea you want them to hold you while he rams from the back is when you give up any thoughts that are holding you back. 

“Why don’t you do something now?”

It’s ballsy but it’s worth it for the way you can see Logan squint his eyes and push himself harder against you, the cold counter pushed into your back a small relief to your hot skin. His hand gripping your chin goes down to match the equally harsh grip on your waist. The shitty dim light from the kitchen overhead shadows over Logan perfectly, light defining the muscles that are being pulled taunt in his neck and shoulders. He drops his head to have lips brush over your ear. 

“I hear ya too, in your room. How those fucking fingers of yours aren’t enough, you wish that was me instead huh, Bubs?” His last words come out breathy with a hint of a chuckle falling off his lips. He drops his head on your shoulder and you feel your body run hot at the amount of contact. “Fuck, I could smell ya in there all the fucking time. Knew you hear me through the walls, girl.”

You tilt your head slightly letting your plush lips ghost over his ear like he did moments ago. 

“This doesn’t change anything, you're arrogant, egotistical and an asshole.”

Logan lifts his head confused at your words before you grab his face into your hands, a laughable size difference, and push his lips onto yours. He catches on quickly moving his lips against yours rather harshly, having a hand slide to your neck to keep you in place, the other hand pushing you against him. You groan at the feeling of his hardened cock pressed up by your upper thigh. It’s quick and rough with him, the way he grabs at your skin and handles you. 

His calloused hands reach under your thighs and grunts out a ‘jump’ and that's exactly what you do. Letting your thighs hit the cold counter is a burn relief on your burning thighs. His lips run down from your lips to your neck, his beard rubbing against your skin has you throwing your head back into the cabinets that rest behind you. His hands knead your plush thighs and you pull at his hair tufts and he groans into your neck. 

He pulls away completely leaving you a confused mess. You must look like a sight, shirt falling off one shoulder and bunching at your waist. Hair a wreck framing your face and your kiss swollen lips. You go to mumble out a disoriented ‘what’ but Logans already grabbing at the undersides of your thighs and you're pulled into his arms. His fingertips grip into the backs of your thighs leaving bruises in their wake, you take the advantage to run your hands down his tank top clad shoulders and chest feeling the hard muscle ripple under your touch. 

“Say it.”

You stare at him slightly confused as he sets you down on your bed, his hands resting on the tops of your thighs. He’s looking at you so earnestly it almost hurts. 

“Say what, Logan?” You lean back on your arms before deciding on gaining a surge of confidence. You grab at the edge of your shirt and rip it over your head. Free the nipple and all that but thank fuck is all you think. It’s like a reward watching his eyes land on your bare chest and the way his breath hitches. You pull him down by his tank top. “I want you Logan.” 

The reaction is spontaneous, he’s leaning back and taking his tank top off from the hem behind his neck. You crawl back onto your bed and he follows you, in this state you could ask him to follow you to any universe and he would. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down back to your lips, his hands gliding smoothly over your torso before he grabs one of your tits in hand and pulls harshly at your nipple. He does it again on the other nipple after he hears the gasp that comes out your mouth. He moves his kissed lips down from your lips to your neck. You catch the image, his massive body crowding yours, a shield from the outside world. His lips detach from the purple hazing mark starting to form on your neck and attach his lips to one of your taut nipples while kneading the other one. You snake your hands into his hair and pull. Into the spank bank box.

It’s when his lips start trailing down your tits to your stomach, kissing and playing with the plush skin before he kisses around your thigh. Teasing on purpose, avoiding where you need him the most. He lets his thumbs enter the hem of your painties before he looks back at you. 

“You know how long I’ve waited to be here, baby?”

“Then show me, c’mon”

Logan pulls your painties off so slowly it should be a crime but with how he kisses your pussy like it’s a prize bails him out. His arms wrap around your thighs to give him better access, a forearm going across your stomach to hold you down like you're in the wrong for squirming. He licks up and down your pussy and fuck it makes you angry how good he is at it. His tongue teasing your hole and you whimper, you pull at his hair tufts and he looks at you, his eyes are teasing and his mouth and chin are covered in your juices. He maintains eye contact as he moves his lips over to your clit and sucks, he keeps his mouth closed around the bundle and watches how you moan and squirm under him. He removes one arm from around your waist to thrust a single finger into your tight hole. He doesn’t make a remark on the gasp but pulls up for where he was and stops his movement.

“Stop fucking moving, c’mob be good for me, Bubs.”

The words have you melting into your sheets as you try to stop your brash movements. The combination of the second finger he added and his tongue working wonders on your sensitive clit has your stomach forming that familiar knot. You grab at one of his arms to signal him but he doesn’t relent.

“Gonna cum ,gonna cum, Fuck!”

“I know Bubs let it out, yeah just like that baby.”

He sits up for where he was laying down, your body still spread out for him as you try to catch your breath from the orgasm. You trail your hand down his toned and muscular abs to his jean buttons, slowly undoing the button and the zipper. Logan looks down at you with a growing smirk on his face as he finishes the job of pulling his pants a little down his thighs. 

“Ya want something, girl? Ya gotta get it.”

You push yourself up onto your knees as he stands at the edge of your bed, shoving down his boxers, his cock bounces to his stomach, a flush coating the tip as pearly white precum beads out. You take his cock in hand, salivating over the happy trail in your view. You pump his cock a few times before you lean in and kiss the tip. You're a few kitten licks deep before he pulls your head back and shakes his head. 

“Another time, girl. I’ve been waiting too long to be inside of you.”

You groan and fall back, letting your legs spread for the man you hate so much. He adjusts himself in between your legs trying to make space for his large figure. He looks down at you, one hand on his cock and the other on your thigh, holding it up to his waist. He strokes at your calf in a fond way, maybe a ‘sorry i'm about to wreck your pussy.’

He lines himself up and swipes his cock head through your folds, letting his head hand forward from the feeling. You wrap both legs around his colossal waist in an attempt to have him sheath himself fully inside you. He laughs from above you and lines his fat tip against your hole. Sliding himself inch by inch, you look down and he’s only half way in and it’s too full. He tries to push in more and you whine, throwing your head back and putting your hands on his chest. He takes a hand and grabs one of your hands on his chest and sheaths himself fully inside of you.

“Yeah Bub? Too much?”

It’s cocky how he laughs above you, laughing at your whining. You shift your hips under him trying to get comfortable. His eyes watching your every move, you kick his thigh, for being cocky and a signal to move. He puts a forearm by your head and another on the thigh wrapped around the waist. He starts slowly moving his hips thrusting in and out. 

“Really Old man, c’mon let loose.”

“You don’t want me to do that, baby”

You roll your eyes from under him, you shove at his shoulders and have him fall on to his back. He stays snug inside you as you adjust yourself on top of him, watching as he gives you a one over, both his hands gripping the fat on your hips. You start lifting your thighs up and down, putting your hands on his chest making an excuse to feel on those godly abs. The grunts he gives from under you are spurring you on despite the burn in your thighs. 

Logan is a simple man, he watches the lewd faces you make as you lean forward, your tits caught between your arms as you bounce your thighs on him. He lets you do your own thing, admiring you. But the primal urge is stronger, he grabs at your hips and fucks up into you. His cock moving at rapid speed thrusting in and out of from under, you keep yourself up on this chest. Your cockdrunk on him. The feeling of him fucking into you is making you dumb, you let your tits press to his chess and attempt to kiss him. You're more so moaning into his mouth than kissing him. You let him switch places, manhandling you onto your knees. He practically mounts you like a dog in heat , his chest pressed against back. He’s got his forearm pressed to your collarbones, hand on your throat, his other hand reaches down to rub at your clit. Your a moaning mess, to fucked out to care about anything. Your whines of Logan's name has him thrusting harder into. He leans his head on your shoulder turning towards your ear.

“Yeah, you close baby, I can feel it. It’s okay Bubs, I'm here, let it out. Cum on this dick Bub.”

You let his words wash over you, coaxing you into your second orgasm. He fucks you through it, before he stills his thrust. You grab his arm- “Inside, cum inside”- he lets out a groan that rattles in your chest and shoots hot ropes of cum inside. Logan adjusts you both to lay down, your upper half on his chest, his half hard cock still cum deep in your pussy. You're tempted to fall asleep at this until Logan opens his mouth. 

“Still hate me, baby?”

You smack his chest not bothering to get up. You let yourself lay on his chest, grabbing your comforter and pulling it up to your chest, the blanket falling around his waist.

“You're still in jeans, on my bed.”

“I'll take em off for round two”

You don’t say anything just letting the both of you bask in the silence, Logan’s playing with your hair. It’s nice, up and until you hear the front door open. You brace yourself.

You forgot to lock the door, and in comes Wade.

“What the FUCK balls, without me, seriously?”

[verdemoth]

I've continued playing Fallen London on and off and I've been wanting to make a new ref for Mel for AAAGES, not just to update old art but also show some of the character development Mel's experienced after a handful of years in the Neath! The ES 'Adornment' especially was a major turning point for Philomel and sparked Mel's revolutionary leanings, and is when Mel began to realize Mel's formed meaningful ties just as important as Mel's quest for vengeance. This year's estival (the Coilheart Games) brought out another evolution of this, and Mel's settled into an investigative role in the adamant belief that such worldshattering secrets and threats that encompass the entire city should NOT be purposefully withheld from the people living in it.

Image text is probably hard to read, and there's a transcript below this readmore

Text Transcripts:

In the top right are some quick details. Mel's full name is Philomel Pelayo Muros. In the style of other Fallen London characters, Mel's epithet is 'the Steely-Eyed Gun-for-Hire'. Mel uses no pronouns, Mel's 38 years old and 5 feet 2 inches tall. Mel resides in the Flit, and Mel's profession is as a mercenary and freelance investigator. The faction Mel is closest to is the Revolutionaries, with which Mel has 15 Renown. Mel is an Ambition: Nemesis character.

Below this are some notable player character attributes. Of the main attributes, Philomel has high Dangerous and Watchful but low Persuasive. Mel also has high Dreaded. Of the quirks, Mel has high Steadfast, Melancholy, Ruthless, Forceful, and Magnanimous, but low Subtle and Heartless. Mel also has the quality 'Tragedy: Death of a Spouse'.

Paired with the portrait in the top left are these notes, pointing to several parts of the illustration: "Permanent dark circles from years of stress, poor sleep and frequent nightmares. Mel always looks exhausted and more than a little haunted."

"Mel has acne scars, and a lot of other scars. Mel accumulates wounds almost as quickly as Mel does nightmares."

"A skull fracture obtained during 'Adornment' resulted in some long-term afflictions. These include vision and hearing loss (both on Mel's left) as well as vertigo spells. Mel also fractured a wrist and dislocated a shoulder, now prone to re-injury."

"Mel originally shaved just for ease in tending to the fresh wound. But Mel ended up vibing with the style and is still sporting it a few years later."

The next notes point to the raven (named Sarangerel) perched on Mel's arm in another illustration: "A black raven from the Surface - very rare in the Neath. She spent a good many years with the Tomb-Colonist who first found and nursed her to health, and who gave her her name. Sadly, that chapter has come to an end. She's befriended Philomel, and is glad for Mel's companionship. She doesn't speak much these days, but she sings beautifully her wistful, plaintive melodies."

With the drawing of Mel's hand are these notes: "Finally bothered to ditch the New Newgate cuffs, but Mel got used to the weight and replaced them with heavy bracelets. The 'jewels' are coloured glass."

Each of Mel's possessions are accompanied by a note:

"Rose-Shaded Lenses. Prescription, for light sensitivity and migraine. They've seen better days."

"Revolutionary's Red Feather Pin. Kept close at hand, seldom displayed."

"Horseshoe Lapel Pin. Always part of Mel's ensemble. Worn in reference to a departed friend."

"Ring with a Rose Motif. Of significant sentimental importance. It was an anniversary gift."

"Simple Derringer. Typically hidden somewhere on Mel's person, though Mel now favours a knife. Mel's aim isn't what it used to be."

Text transcripts end here.

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Hi! I was wondering if you take request for Astarion and co.? The reader gets an aura migraine (worst kind of migraine in my opinion). But because of her/their past being a mercenary/hunter/warrior (whichever one), the reader doesn’t tell or even realize it until it’s too late. Just some angst and then love and care from Astarion.

I love your writing! So please take all the time you need to write this if you want to.

HIHI I'M SORRY FOR NOT POSTING FOR SO LONG!!!!!!! I've been very tired as of late from all the schoolwork and I swear it's almost like I don't have any down time. Writing through this slog has been difficult as well and I don't like forcing/rushing things. Still, I managed to finish this, hope you like it!

Summary: You collapse right in front of Astarion due to a particularly bad aura migraine episode. Panic and emotional constipation ensues

Your head is splitting. Again.

Inhaling sharply, you let out a slow breath, willing the pain away so that you can focus on the task at hand. Black spots creep in on the edges of your vision but you blink them away, you can’t falter now. You swing your blade, slicing through another of Orin’s assassins before ducking as a dagger stabs the spot your head was at just moments ago.

Even with spotty vision, your battle instincts are enough to help you survive the fight, but you don’t emerge from the fight unscathed. One of the assassins manages to sneak up on you and gets a hit in, tearing open your shoulder.

“Y/N!”

You hiss in pain, whirling around to cleave the assassin in half with your blade. Your injured arm shakes from the exertion, fresh blood streaming from the wound with each motion. The throbbing pain doesn’t help your migraine in the slightest and you nearly keel over.

“My dear, you look terrible.” Astarion catches you just before you hit the floor, a hint of concern in his eyes.

“I’m fine.” You grab onto him to steady yourself, blinking as your vision begins to swim and push yourself upright, flashing him a grin. “See? Perfectly fine!”

And then the world spins before fading to black.

Bright light fills your vision as you open your eyes, causing you to throw your arm up to block out the light, only for white hot pain to shoot through said arm.

Right. You had injured your arm.

Groaning, you rub your eyes with the other arm and tenderly push yourself upright, letting out a croaky yelp when your injured arm buckles beneath you. Closing your eyes, you breathe out slowly, releasing your annoyance at the current situation.

“How are you feeling?” A familiar deep voice sounds.

“Fine.” Your reply comes out harsher than you intended and you internally cringe when Halsin noticeably pauses, taken aback by your tone.

“Sorry,” you mutter quickly. “How long was I out for?”

“Sufficiently long to make everyone worry.” He hands you a flask of water. “Drink up.”

You down the flask almost immediately, feeling the cool liquid slide down your throat and let out a contented sigh. The throbbing in your head has dulled to a quiet hum, but it will remain for a few more days, if past experience is anything to go by.

"Thank you." You hand the now empty flask back to Halsin.

"If you're feeling well enough, you should go and talk to the others. Some of them were particularly worried when you fainted on them." Halsin gives you a sly smirk. "Especially a certain vampire."

You raise an eyebrow and Halsin laughs, "he was the most worried. I had to chase him out of the tent just so I could tend to you."

"He was that worried," you murmur to yourself, frowning slightly. You hadn't meant to do that, well not like you had meant to faint in the first place but knowing just how much of an impact your little 'accident' had on Astarion made you feel bad.

"Watch yourself out there, you were lucky you only collapsed after all the enemies were defeated," Halsin chides as he rebandages your wound and hands you a healing potion. "Try to tell someone when you're not feeling well, alright?"

You laugh, waving him off, "I'll try, no promises though."

The moment you exit the room, the others rush over to check up on you, save for a pale elf who sends a scowl your way before disappearing into his own room, his door left ajar. You reassure the others, quickly making your way past the conversations and slip away with Halsin's help, ducking into a familiar room.

"Hey." You attempt to make conversation but a scowl remains firmly on his face, his gaze buried in the book he's holding. Sighing, you make your way to the bed and nestle into the remaining space, feeling his cooling skin press against your burning one.

"I'm sorry for making you worry."

"You're sorry? That's it? You're not going to explain why I suddenly had your unconscious body in my arms, why you had the audacity to tell me you were 'perfectly fine' before collapsing, why you —" He stops to take a breath he doesn't need, feeling every emotion rush to the surface and tears prick the corners of his eyes. He's mad, mad at you for not telling him anything, mad at himself for not noticing earlier, mad at himself for not being able to express his concern in a normal manner.

"Star…"

"You can't just say sorry and expect everything to be ok! Sorry fixes nothing!" He yells, wanting nothing more than for you to yell back at him so that he can release the emotions he doesn't know how to deal with in the only way he knows how but you remain quiet, head hung low, and that frustrates him even more.

"You're right. Sorry fixes nothing. I…" You let out a deep sigh, lifting your gaze to meet his. You can see the tear streaks that have formed, the fear in his eyes, the anxiety and it steals your breath away.

"Halsin wasn't kidding. You really are extremely worried for me." You can't help but give a small chuckle despite it all, a quiet smile making its way onto your face.

"Of course I'm worried!" Astarion snaps.

"Thank you for being worried." You slip your hand into his. "No one's ever been this worried about me before."

"Have you fainted in someone's arms before?" He huffs, annoyed, but he has simmered down.

"Well…not quite. I always went on quests alone, fought alone, but the times I wasn't alone…let's just say things didn't go so well for me." You laugh, giving his hand a squeeze. "You all…you…are the first people I don't mind calling friends."

He clicks his tongue and looks away, but you can see the red on the tips of his ears. Your own cheeks are burning from the confession, your heart thundering like never before and you want nothing more than to bury your face into your knees.

"Why aren't you angry at me?" He mumbles after a while, still refusing to meet your gaze.

"Is there a reason I should be?" You murmur, running your thumb along his skin. His grip on you tightens and he bites his lip, shifting anxiously.

"There are many." The words leave his lips in a whisper and he wishes he could take them back when he sees the way your face falls.

"I can't think of any. I can, however, think of reasons for you to be angry at me." You shake your head. "I should have told you about my migraines earlier instead of having you find out like that, I should have done more than a simple 'sorry', I should have thought about you instead of just keeping to myself."

"You were just doing what you knew was safe. I'm no better."

"But you chose to open up to me. You spilled your deepest darkest secrets and yet I kept mine from you because I didn't want to look weak. I should have returned the favour, but I didn't." All your regrets come spilling forth, its flow stemmed only by the feeling of soft lips against your own.

He kisses you gently at first, and then it deepens, becoming more urgent as he conveys his feelings to you the only way he knows how.

"You're strong. You're the strongest person I know. You've been through so much, and yet you refuse to let any of it stop you. You've been dealing with your migraine by yourself for so long, putting up with the pain by yourself, nothing about that is weak in the slightest." He presses his forehead against yours, pulling you into his embrace. "Let me share in your burden as you share in mine."

"It's only fair, I suppose." Your lips curve into a grin. Letting out a quiet breath, you entangle your fingers in his curls, feeling him lean into the touch. "Promise?"

"Promise," he murmurs back, soaking in the moment. There's only you and him, bodies pressed against each other, embracing like it's the last time you'll ever see each other, washing away the throbbing in your head and the ache in his heart.

He closes his eyes, relishing in the warmth of your body tightly pressed against him, breathing in your scent that speaks of love, comfort, safety, feeling the rhythmic strokes of your fingers through his hair, and wants for nothing else. Pressing a kiss to your temple, he smiles, genuinely, and saves this moment in his memory.

"Get well soon, my love."

[the-migraine-mercenary]

I typically note my stronger medications in my google calendar, and create the even to be as long the required waiting time before I can take another one.

When it’s 24 hour requirements I can’t see the time requirement that well as indicated with the yellow highlighter in the picture below.

Instead, I set the event of when I took them ahead one hour and have it last for 23 hours, thereby noticing me at the correct safe time. This looks very different, as you can see with the green highlighter circling it.

Being part of the AuDHD community has helped me realize how important it means to write down everything, and it has helped my brain fog immensely.

What’s the name for the chronic illness phenomenon of “did I just take ibuprofen or did I just think about taking ibuprofen?”

[the-migraine-mercenary]

Oct. 16th was the last day I took an Emgality pen. I have my first botox treatment some weeks ago, so I still took two more Emgality pens after I started with my first Botox treatment since it is to help transition between the two medications.

I’ll admit it is nice to not have to use a self-injection pen and worrying about the brief amount of pain that comes with it.

Botox is quite common, they even had a room specifically for injecting Botox in the neurology clinic I go to. There are 32 injection sites, most not painful except for the ones in the forehead which the nurse who was administering them did last, thankfully.

Hopefully this preventative medication will work.

[electricaquarius]

Midnight fanfiction time strikes again, this is my first Gale x reader! Completely gender neutral, only thing described is that the reader is prone to migraines. Short and fluffy. (Also it seems like some of my fics are missing? I'll repost them sometime soon)

As you slowly opened your eyes you felt the morning light like two daggers directly to your skull. You rolled over and groaned, using your arm to try to block it out but it was no use, you officially had a migraine. As if the tadpole wasn't enough your head was now trying to implode on itself. The sound of Lae’zel sharpening her blade was nearly enough to make you cry. Hands over your ears you stumbled out, still dressed in night clothes, needing to explain you cannot possibly adventure out today. As the unofficial leader you felt a certain sense of guilt taking a day off but the world feels so spacey and dreamlike it's impossible to concentrate on much other than the pain. You believe Wyll had ordered you back to bed at some point but honestly it could have been any of your friends. You're just happy to be able to rest once more.

You woke up later, but you're not sure how much time had passed. Hours, certainly, since it was dark outside. Although, there was a slight tinge of weave in the air that made you question that, alongside the soft sound of waves even though you were miles from the nearest coastline. You sat up and scanned your tent to find Gale sitting in one corner, book on his lap. ‘Gale…?’ You croaked out, throat dry from sleep.

His voice was a low whisper. ‘Ah, good morning. Or evening, as it might be.’ He chuckled. ‘I thought a darkness spell might help, I understand you were quite light sensitive this morning. Please, let me know if you want me to stop.’ He reached over and poured a cup of water for you. ‘Drink. Dehydration will only make your headache worse.’

You took the cup from him gratefully and took several small sips. ‘How long was I out? Have you been concentrating for all that time?’ Added to the guilt of a wasted day, you now have the shame of taking up Gale's time when he could have been doing one of the thousand little chores you were unaware of before you started camping with your be-tadpoled friends.

‘Most of the day, I'm afraid. I do hope you're feeling better. Although you needn't worry, darkness is hardly a demanding spell even to maintain it for several hours.’ There was that pride coming through again. At times it infuriated you but right now it was quite endearing.

You sat up properly and brought your knees to your chest. ‘Still, to sit with me like this for the whole time I was asleep… you're very nice to me. I'm not quite sure why.’ You shrugged. It was true enough, you couldn't quite see Gale doing something *this* nice for your other companions. There had been something between you ever since your little magic lesson but nothing that either of you could name.

‘I could say the same about you, after having not only accepted my condition but helping to treat it. Let's say it's an equal exchange.’ He tucked away the book and brought a hand to your forehead. ‘No fever. Good. I'm afraid treating that would be a mite more complicated.’

You rolled your eyes and flopped back down onto the bedroll. ‘Must you be so mercenary? That was the perfect time to tell me how much you like me.’ You took another sip of water to avoid Gale's gaze for a moment.

‘I won't argue, considering you're still recovering, but I will say you were the first to bring it up. And I won't waste time telling you what you already know. You mean a great deal to me, and if I may be so bold, I do to you.’ He leant down and kissed your forehead before rising. ‘I'll call you when dinner is ready, you should eat.’

Stunned into silence, you can't respond until Gale is across the camp and preparing dinner. If this is how he reacted, you make a mental note to play sick more often.

[is-today-tomorrow-in-nz]

OMG that Rule of Wolves ending was a total Deus Ex Machina! Leigh Bardugo really destroyed ALL the magical system's balance so her favorite could become a God, Avatar, mindreader, emotion reader, and dragon (ironic because LB was a Dany anti for GoT) with no consequences! But Alina, with ONE power just trying to take down the Fold = GREED = STRIPPED OF ALL POWERS. It makes no sense, and causes migraines to think about how LB destroyed all the worldbuilding for poorly thought out wattpad ending.

Thank you! I was beyond frustrated too. Her magic system is like a mirage in a desert- it exists one moment and then vanishes the next minute. It does not help that she plays favouritism with her own characters. Zoya, Nikolai and the crows are clearly her golden children. Aleksander is her scapegoat child. For the sake of her golden children, she bends the plot and swathes them in plot armour. However she refuses to offer any sort of redemption or even decent plotlines for her least favourite ones.

Just the other day, I was lamenting about this in another post. Let me share my fav deus ex machina other than the ones mentioned in the original post.

1)SoC: Began well- foreign country, jurda, everything at stake, heist etc etc. After the disaster of the trilogy, I was excited to read something different. However, the climax just made me want to fling the book to a corner. So Jarl Brum knows the partial truth from Matthias, knows why the crows were there. But somehow they got away scott free. Like yes, Nina made some soldiers fall asleep, but doesn't Fjerda have a navy? Isn't Djerholm not a harbour? Do they not know the ship name? Do they not know how long the jurda effects last in Nina? And yet all Brum did was stomp like a villain at the end of scooby doo saying, "If it weren't for those meddling kids!" and did nothing. They literally attacked one of the most powerful country's capital, blew up a part of their palace, and stole a tank! Somehow destroying a bridge was all it needed to stop an army! And at the final standoff, the soldiers were just put to sleep not killed. even if Kaz was just a day ahead, the fierce Fjerdan navy should have caught up to them. 🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️ But no... Nina attacked them with parem. Suddenly nothing can be done. It's like Fjerda is this formidable enemy when LB needs it to be and then become a bunch of helpless idiots when her favourite characters need to escape!

2)S&S: Ivan's death or literally any Grisha death on the Darkling side. They were very dangerous and battle experienced one moment but somehow were nothing compared to two sword weilding mercenaries. With convenient plot devices, the man who is literally the oldest and the most powerful Grisha in Ravka, was defeated and left at sea- no doubt hit by LB's idiot hammer. The man literally created THE FOLD for god's sake!!! And yet he and his army of well trained Grisha were defeated in a matter of minutes.

3)Nikolai: The whole Nikolai spiel was that he is the 'good' guy. He desperately wants the throne but instead of doing anything about it he was literally waiting for his big bro to get bored of it and throw it to him. That was the 'most clever fox's' brilliant strategy. Because that's what good boys do. Only evil, dark wizards create a coup.

And when the plot doesn't move forward, the easily-defeated-at-sea Darkling, is suddenly a raging powerful villain who conveniently kills Vasily and hands the good boy his throne.

I could go on and on. She butchered her own universe and is fixing them with cello tapes.

[the-migraine-mercenary]

This is wonderful to hear! Congratulations on fighting migraines- finding the tools to do so can be very hard to find.

Can you tell us what brand of glasses you are wearing or where you bought them from?

Got my sunglasses today! They're prescription, so I, of course, had to try them on for a few minutes to make sure it's the same as my glasses or else they will cause me an additional headache.

Some background info- I have chronic headaches, and not the type of chronic that is "Oh I frequently have a headache" no, it's the type of chronic that is "I always have a headache and there is never a time in which I don't have a headache"

So imagine my surprise when, after 5 or so minutes of wearing my new sunglasses, the sharp stabbing at the front of my head starts to dull ever so slightly. Not by much, but by enough that I can, in fact, notice it.

It takes another minute or two for me to figure out what happened, but when I do, I get up from where I'm sitting and start turning off the lights and closing the window blinds.

I was having a light sensitivity headache, and I hadn't noticed at all. I didn't even classify the sharp stabbing as a headache until after I noticed it claiming down, again, not by much, but enough to notice.

I'm so used to headaches that I don't usually complain about them or bring up the fact that I have one unless asked. Even then, I thought I didn't have the usual light or sound sensitively issues that come with headaches, but I was apparently wrong, and didn't realize that the pain was an issue until it was being somewhat fixed.

How weird is that? I mean- I should be used to it by now, but it's still so strange to actually think about

[high-five0]

•FIC MASTERLIST•

So this is basically every fic I’ve reblogged so I can access them and see them organized! (Also kind of a fic recommendation post) If there’s any recommendations of what I should read please let me know!

Most of these fics will be platonic!

-Formula One-

•Platonic Grid•

“Martins Grid walk” -taking over the grid walk is not for the faint of heart

“Slow Down, Red Flag” -what the reader does when the racing comes to a stop

“Pure Chaos 2, 3” - amazing multi part smau

“Caffeine of Choice” -a few drivers don’t get your choice of energy

“Golden (Son)” -Prema driver with OP81 as a grid dad

“Early Risers V. Night Owls” -some just don’t understand the morning grumpies

“Line Up” -Pole position equals pissy fans

“Dear Spa” -the Belgium track takes another (read for a good cry)

“Reality” -the cameras not capture everything

“Grill the Kid” “Grill the Grid” -two fics based on the quiz show

“Annoying little brothers” -self explanatory

“Grid Kids”

“Monopoly”

•MV1💙•

“Block Out the Haters” -Max defends his teammate

•CL16❤️•

“Don’t get Squeezed” -Charles little sisters position at the Chinese GP has her worried

•CS55❤️•

“Human Shield”-podium celebrations can get messy very quickly

“You don’t like spicy food?”-trying to play mermaids with chili

•DR3🩶•

“Be your Wingman” -a little crush on a sky sport reporter has someone being a tease

•SV5💚•

“Films of Anger” -Racing incident has too childhood friends explode at eachother (very brocedes core)

“Learning how to Drive” -she can driver at over 200 mph but not on a normal road

•KR7❤️•

“Very Sleepy One Bed” -long races and sharing hotel rooms

“Future world Champ” -a talk with Kimi and Seb about the new driver

“Giddy Goodbyes” -ending the season can be sad but a helmet swap can make it a little better

•LS2🩵•

“Team USA”-Logan supports his girl competing as an Olympic surfer SMAU

“Rookie Reflections” -Logan befriends the new rookie (first f1 fic I’ve ever read)

•OP81🧡•

“Rewatching love” -a group of old Prema drivers watch their old f2 videos

•LH44🖤•

“Driver Headcannons”

•PA17🤍•

“Crash Into Me” -enemies to lovers with the one bed trope what’s not to love?

-Women’s Basketball-

•PB5•

“Courtside”- “what are you doing here? I thought you had to study”

“Teammate Headcannons”

“Sleepyhead”

•KA2•

“Dating Headcannons”

•KM20•

“While we’re young” -the aces play the liberty and 2 lovers are joined together

“I wanna listen to the sound of you breathing” -just 5 more minutes

-FC Barcelona-

•Braça Femeni•

“Head in the Clouds”

“Scrubber” -la Roja debute”

“First” -Scoring your first club goal

“Priorities” -being late to practice opens up a new can of worms

“Numb” -nobody likes a rough game

•ML4•

“Protection” -injury on the field

•JF11•

“Joao with a formula 1 driver”

-Call of Duty-

•Task Force 141•

“Ain’t that a kick in the head” -just some Headcannons of new recruit

“One hell of a first mission” -your first mission goes sideways

“Migraines”

•Ghost•

“Right Behind you” -Ghost wants to keep his distance but can’t (first cod fic I’ve ever read)

“Headcannons”

“A Bedtime Story” -it’s not your fault ghost has a soothing voice

“Like Riding a Bike” -ghost finds out you never learned to ride a bike

“Picture Perfect” -snoring on the plane home

“Rodan”

-Top Gun-

•Dagger Squad•

“Friendship Bracelets”-making brackets for your squad

“Rookie” - not everyone a fan of the new recruit

•Rooster•

“Personal Space” -you like your personal space, a certain aviator likes it too

•Iceman•

“Blood in the Water” -a crash scares everyone

-MCU-

•Deadpool and Wolverine•

“Two pease in a pod”

“Troublemaker” -Wolverine seems to be there for you more times than anyone else

“The Spiderling”

“Oscar Worthy Performance”- the cops cannot be called, so you find one man to vouch for you

•Moonkight•

“Recruitment gone right?” -the avengers sent you to recruit a mercenary

•Daredevil•

“They’re Gonna Taste my Venom”- Venom and his host stumble upon a lawyer

•Spider-Man(s)”

“Art with Hands”- Hobie is the best sign language teacher

-Star Wars-

•The Clone Wars•

•Fives•

“Smugglers” -stealing treats from another commander

“Food Fight”

•104th Battalion•

“Cuddling the 104”

“Mama Wolffe” -Wolffe was grump and unnerving… to most

•Delta Squad•

“Headcannons”

•The Mandolorian•

“Come and Get Me” -Din will always come back for you

-The Last of Us-

“So Far From It”-you get into some trouble but know exactly who to call

“Carved Over the Door” - Joel finally figures out your secret

“The Tunnel” -not a very good get away driver

-Na’vi-

“Angry Spirit” -doing anything for your siblings

•Neteyaem•

“Golden Child” -A battle for the paise of your parents

“And your Brother is Here”

-Random-

•Arcane•

“Stumbled Upon” -Silco stumbled upon one of Vanders Kids

•The Hunger Games•

“Swear” - Finnick helps the new victor

[valentine-cafe]

Hello, hello!

I hope you both are doing well :D

We had the Rishens. Now, I wonder what would happen if all the Alessios popped into the same room together?

- 🙇

. ˚◞♡ all of the alessio's in a room ⊹ ۪ ࣪

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ( 781 alessio, 1311 alessio, 209 alessio, 9819 alessio, 164 alessio, alessio 9948e ) ⊹ ۪ ࣪

𖹭. after a warp in the fabric of the cosmos. . . six alessios walk into a diner.

꒰ hope you're doing well too ! we love you so much for these requests <3 ꒱

“oh my fucking stars, can you stop chewing so loud?” sighs the oldest of the alessio’s, the rhytaari frustrated by the competetive chewing that the alessio from this universe, 781, is having with the infamous enigma sanctuary leader from 1311.

-see this sexy and gracious mercenary here took all of his variants out of the dorm after they had all suddenly appeared in front of him and his boyfriend and frenemy. from whatever warp had suddenly ripped through the fabric of the cosmos.

gotta be responsible, no?

“well actually we were thrown out of the dorm.” the sorcerer from 9948e hums in response to the cartoonish explanation going on inside of the mercenary’s head to nobody but himself. as if to cope with the absurdity of the situation.

“ay— get out of my head creepy doodles, i’m trying to tell my story.” he groans and gives the younger variant of his a glare, pushing over the waffles to him.

“eat your waffles.” he grumbles. alas the sorcerer only gives them a stare and as if moving the plate with his eyes, it skids over to the most tolerable alessio in the group here.

alessio 209 all but lifts his head at the sight of the waffles sent over to him. and smiles, as he looks at his imp friend and digs back into the food.

“twahnks,” he responds halfway through, swallowing the food and grinning. before curiously looking around. “i remember this diner, it closed down in our world though. somebody said they found a rat in the sink.”

“you know, there are other people here eating.” the grumpy man from 1311 mutters under his breath.

only to groan as he receives a double smack from the rhytaari and the mercenary. a plate of pancakes flung into his face by the sorcerer and a loud bark of laughter from the ever so mischievous ‘outlaw’ from 9819 who had been quiet for a good while now.

“he is reminiscing leave him! you’re the one that should be keeping your mouth shut. fucking starting shit everywhere.” the mercenary calls out, pointing at the other variant.

“all of you are irritating.” the sorcerer groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. groaning at the migraine that paves its way into his head.

“shut up!” they all shout in unison, another fight breaking out once again. while the rhytaari looks at his 209 variant, and the imp companion with him. giving them a little sigh before flicking his wrist, and sending them back home to the abhorration without the notice of any of the other alessio’s.

[aealrizen]

It seemed at some point they had contacted Crystal through an underground network. It wasn’t an unfamiliar place for them, considering Hesopher used it all the time to contact and hire mercenaries to retrieve materials for Eutoli as a whole that Cerah and Andaopos weren’t supplying for them. It was through working with those clients that they had learned about Crystal, and her ‘rumoured’ time spent helping people with cybernetic parts. However, whether it was because of their stance to remain under alias, or some other reason, Crystal was proving to be unwilling to fully work with them. It had been a rough few days, something had been concerning Hesopher enough to hinder their progress on developing their own method for cybernetic surgery. It was currently late at night, and Hesopher had unintentionally fallen asleep where he had been cuddling Midas. He was fourteen now, and couldn’t sleep because of the usual full body ache from his bones and faulty blood. And that, plus the state his father was in had put him in a sour mood.

He had his father’s laptop on his stomach, staring at the most recent conversation between Crystal and Hesopher. Neither of them were using real names, and Hesopher had been fairly secretive about everything about them and their situation. He didn’t want to be traced back. Yet something about being sleep deprived and irritated made Midas reach out instead of leaving it to his dad as he had been doing.

‘You’re being really annoying, you know? We’re not asking for much. Just a name of a book we can look into about the problem or something.’

He hadn’t been expecting a response, and shortly after he’d sent it he considered deleting it. His dad would scold him for being rude once he saw it, and they didn’t need to piss off their contact to the point of blocking them. But to his surprise a response came back quickly.

‘Who is this?’

Oh, she recognized it wasn’t Hesopher really quickly. Smart lady.

‘The son,’ Midas typed back quickly, blinking hazily in his sleepless daze.

The next response took longer to show up, but it seemed to be both because of length and because Crystal had taken a moment to consider or rewrite her words.

‘Look kid. Being a cyborg is not a good life. People don’t like cyborgs, it’s hard to maintain the equipment, and resources aren’t plentiful. Stop chasing a fairytale, and go live your life.’

It was sensible. Any healthy person would look at the prejudice cyborgs had to deal with, and the resources and potential risks they had, and would turn the option down without a moment’s hesitation. And Crystal was rather noble for trying to keep people away from falling into the darker parts of society, where other city’s laws made living risky.

But Midas wasn’t healthy, and they were out of options.

So after an annoyed huff Midas opened the camera app and snapped a picture from the camera facing him and his exhausted dad. And for good measure he stuck his tongue out and held his middle finger up to it as well. The picture was then sent along with a short response.

‘Ain’t got much of one.’

He didn’t wait for an answer, the budding migraine suddenly making itself fully known and causing his head to throb and the light from the laptop to stab at his eyes. With a soft groan, Midas clapped the laptop’s lid closed and shoved it aside, rolling to bury his face into his dad’s chest. As soon as the light was gone the pain in his head subsided considerably, and he drew a steadying breath and let it out slowly. The pain wasn’t gone, it never truly was. But after a few minutes of complete darkness it dropped back down to a state he could manage. Enough that he ended up falling into a half sleep for several hours.

The next morning they had woken up to a response from Crystal.

‘Your son seems to know when it’s time to pull the empathy card.’

‘You have our support.’

With the responses came a compressed file holding two complete documents containing the research notes on full body cyborgs from one of the original scientists of the past. And through his tears of relief and laughter, Hesopher still made Midas apologize to Crystal for the rude gesture.

____________________________

First

____________________________

This one is pretty short compared to some of the others, but the next part is too different and long X'D I really had fun drawing this one too

[the-migraine-mercenary]

Want to go further?

Go to the accessibility settings in your phone and activate white point reduction. This can get your phone screen even darker!

Anyway as someone who has migraines which are triggered by bright lights

Turn your screen brightness down

The number of migraines and severity of migraines I had after doing this were significantly less. Turn it as far down as you can and still see it. Like dear God how do non migraine suffers look at full blast bright screens without getting headaches. This is one of the easiest tips to preventing migraines. Your head and eyes will thanks you

[fauvester]

Ask Game for someone’s OC(s): ✨🍀🍎🍩 svsss ocs?

OOOOH DAAAAA MOSHANG KIDDOS!

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

I like making fankids... my cringe fandom achilles heel... and it would be funny if they weren't like golden halo protags and were instead kind of cringe.

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

OH THE MONEYSHOT!

My hot take is that moshang would earnestly do their best to parent but have a lot of baggage that would make it challenging to emotionally connect with children (in addition to 2-3 very time consuming logistical jobs taking up their time.) They're definitely the best parents in SVSSS but the bar is in the Abyss. They love them, but they're not always the best at showing it in a way that they understand.

Oldest son and crown prince Xuejiao (proud, spoiled, inclined to be lazy, prone to crippling migraines that render him indisposed and a bitch) gets along best with Qinghua. Both of them collect palace gossip and like to micromanage; Qinghua gets back into writing and Xuejiao enjoys proofreading while lounging on his father's bed like he owns the place (not the smutty stuff, though, at least he's not supposed to read that.)

He and Mobei Jun have a respectful but distant relationship. I think deep down XJ has some shame that he isn't as proactive about preparing for and fighting for the throne as MBJ, but as a teen he doesn't want to enough to do something about it so he just avoids those feelings by avoiding his father. They're both very aloof and really need a sticky extrovert to bring them out of their shells..

Tiehan by all accounts should get along best with Qinghua because he's the BAAaAaAaAbY and he's small and smiley and very very talkative. But that's all superficial, and underneath that thin layer of cultivated silliness he's as mercenary and brutal as any demon. Mobei Jun is happy to have a child that jumps at the chance to go on hunting trips and put down minor rebellions with him (XJ is NOT leaving his chaise lounge to go OUTSIDE, THANK YOU.) He tramps around in muddy shoes and brings beasts into the palace. Qinghua feels a little guilty that he really can't stand to be around his youngest for more than an hour at a time.

🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

Other than Various influences in the Northern court that initially conspired to try to poison the crown prince as a baby (those influences are no longer present, or living, and have been rendered unto a soup like homogenate) the closest thing either has to a nemesis is probably the head disciple of Bai Zhan Peak that Xuejiao was inflicted on. She's a jock and a bit of a bully but in her defense her new shidi (who she was NOT consulted on the admission of into her cohort) is arrogant, spoiled and completely disregards her authority. And she can't beat his ass too badly because Liu Qingge himself specifically brought him in to train (at Shang Qinghua's prostrated begging request)

It's always the lot of the Bai Zhan seniors to have beef with half demons, it's how things are done.

[chickensarentcheap]

Lost and Found-Chapter 19

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (OFC. But you do not have to read the others in the series to understand this fic.)

Warnings: some profanity.

*Includes Extraction 2 canon mentions

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @munstysmind @themaradwrites @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @karimac @kmc1989 @thebewingedjewelcat @timbradfordsboot @asirensrage @residentdormouse @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @occommunity @ninjasawakenedmystar

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/126074509

My tag list is open! Please just let me know if you'd like to be added!

*****

He’s the last to arrive; met by Nik at the entrance to the conference room. And they exchange warm embraces and then indulge in non-work related chit-chat; a friendly conversation about his long and draining flight and the dreary, damp, fall weather that had greeted him when he touched down in New York City.

There’s something in the way he carries himself; an abundance of confidence that borders on cockiness and an energetic, almost cheeky bounce to his step. Tall and broad-shouldered and wide-chested, he possesses a charming and almost boyish smile; the perfect companion for the near mischievous glitter to his eyes. Clad in ‘casual business’; charcoal grey trousers, black trench coat, and cream-coloured cable knit sweater that provides a striking contrast against rich, dark skin. And he exchanges one-armed hugs and small talk with those he knows, handshakes and polite greetings with those he doesn’t. Then stands patiently a couple of feet away as Esme and Tyler finish their conversation, his hands stuffed in his pants pockets, as he slowly rocks back and forth on his heels.

Waiting until Tyler releases the diminutive woman from his embrace, he gives the younger mercenary a smile and a nod in greeting before stepping forward. Draping an arm across Esme’s collarbone and pulling her back against him; lips near her ear as he wags a disproving finger in Tyler’s direction.

“Now this one is nothing but trouble.” His English accent is thick; the tone of his voice rich and deep. And easily recognizable. “Didn’t your mother teach you to never speak to strange men?”

“If she had, you and I never would have met.”

“Exactly the answer I expected from you. You always have been too quick for your own good. And everyone else’s for that matter.” Giving her a tight, affectionate squeeze, he drops a kiss on the top of her head and then turns her around to face him; hands resting on her shoulders as he smiles down at her. “Did you miss me?”

“Like a migraine.”

“That’s not friends now, is it. Is that any way to treat your favourite fella?”

“I treat Tyler just fine. I don’t think he has any complaints.”

“You’re just an evil little human, you know that? Always have been. Straight to the core.”

“You seem to bring out the best in me.”

A pregnant pause. Then they both smile and chuckle and he pulls her into a hug; firmly rubbing a palm against the middle of her back before releasing her.

“Surprised?”

“I thought you were in Rome? Last time we talked, you were heading that way. They send you to kill the Pope? How’d that go? Cement your role as the leader of hell yet? Do churches burst into flames if you walk past them?”

“I cemented my place down below a long time ago. And I WAS there; tending to less corrupt and evil things than that old fuck. But a little birdie called me. Said I was needed elsewhere. So, here I am.”

“What are you even doing here? What…?”

“Nik asked me to lend a hand. Help you out of your mess. Heard you got tangled up in some nasty business. With some big-time players. Organized crime, if I do recall correctly.”

“The DiTomasso's. This generation's version of Capone. Probably even worse.”

Releasing a long, low whistle, Alcott gives a slow shake of his head. “Boy, when you step in it, you REALLY step in it, don’t ya,”

“You know them?”

“I know OF them. Haven’t had any first-hand experience myself, but I know people who have. And they all say the same thing; that family is as corrupt and as evil as they come. They’ve got a lot of people lining their pockets; everyone from sanitation workers to coppers, to hospital CEOs and top-notch lawyers and even politicians. And we’re not talking the bottom of the barrel either; we’re talking the district attorney and councilmen and even the damn mayor himself. Not to mention they’re very tight with the High Table. They may as well be running this city. Hell, they may as well be running the entire STATE.”

“Sounds like this place’s version of the Radiani boys,” Tyler observes.

“If you thought they were bad…which they WERE, don’t get me wrong… you’re definitely not going to enjoy these fellas. They’re twice as twisted and dirty. If not MORE than that. Their bloodlines are long and run extremely deep and they’re extremely loyal to one another. They will stop at nothing to defend and avenge the family name. Which, from what I heard, you found out firsthand today, yeah? A little incident. Involving a sniper?”

Noticing the way Esme tenses, Tyler lays a comforting hand on the nape of her neck; fingers pressing and digging into the tight muscle. “It was way too close to home. Millie was right there. They didn’t even give a shit. They opened fire anyway.”

“They don’t give a fuck WHO is the room, mate. Your kid, your mother, your grandmother. They’re taking the shot regardless of who is there to see it or who might be standing in the way. Believe me, there’s word out on the street. And a healthy reward. For whoever pulled that trigger. Some of us do have some standards. Some morals left. And when it comes to kids…”

“And Winston didn’t even give a shit,” Esme laments. “He’s the reason we had to pull all of this together so quickly. Because he wants us out. ASAP. He was more worried about the attention we brought to The Continental. And the mess WE made. He didn’t care that Millie could have died.”

Tyler smirks. “He was more disappointed I didn’t.”

“You’re on his shit list too, are ya?” Alcott laughs. You’re in good company. He’s tried to intimidate me many times. He’s even tried to kill me. Off the books. Yet here I am. Still around to burn his ass. I can only imagine what his reaction is going to be when he finds out I’ve checked in. Should be interesting, to say the least.”

“Tyler thinks he might be connected to it,” Esme says. “ The sniper.”

“He threatened me. Hallow shit, mostly. Offered me money to get the job done and then bring Esme and Millie back here. And walk away from them. For good.”

“How much money?” Alcott inquires.

Esme scowls.

“I need the whole picture. Details. They’re important. Even I wouldn’t hand you over for all the money in that man’s vault downstairs. And that’s saying something.” Winking, he reaches out and affectionately ruffles her hair. “Considering I merely tolerate you most days.”

“I told him to fuck the money,” Tyler replies. “Said I wasn’t walking away. I was in their life now and I was staying in it. Didn’t matter what he offered. Or how much.”

“I’m not surprised. You’re one of the few in this game that still has some principles I tell you what though, I lost mine a long time ago. If I come face to face with that old fuck, I’m liable to rip his head off and shove it up his ass. And that won’t end well for me. You can’t even scratch your balls or pick your underwear out of your ass around here without The High Table having some rule against it.”

Esme grins. “Maybe you need a chaperone while you’re here. Someone to keep you out of trouble.”

“Oh, that’s mighty rich coming from the likes of you. Considering how fast trouble manages to find you. Which is how you ended up with this muppet…” Alcott jerks his head in Tyler’s direction. “...in the first place.”

Tyler smirks. “I thought we were friends.”

“You shot a coffee mug clear out of my hand, mate.”

“That was before I got to know you. Once that happened, I figured you were alright.”

Taking Esme by the shoulders, Alcott turns her to face Tyler; a forearm once more draped across her collarbone.. “Now you listen to me and listen to me good. That man? Nothing but a nuisance. A troublemaker. I can maybe see falling for his bullshit one time, but TWO? What’s that saying? Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice…”

“I’ll have you know that he’s a perfect gentleman.”

“Yeah, I bet he is. I bet you wear the pants in the relationship, yeah? Got him on the straight and narrow? Someone has to keep the likes of him in line, am I right? And it’s always the tiniest ones that crack the mightiest whips.” Chuckling, Alcott steps around Esme; clapping Tyler on the shoulder before pulling him into a tight, brief hug. “I’m just fucking with ya. It’s always good to see you. Especially out of prison orange.”

“Feels like a lifetime ago. How you been holding up?”

“Well, my knees crack when I walk, my lower back constantly hurts, and I need glasses to read and drive…”

“Just say it,” Esme teasingly encourages. “Old. You’re getting old.”

“Not to mention I have to get up three times a night to take a piss. Other than that, I’m doing just fine, mate. Still kicking ass and taking names. And most importantly, still on this side of the ground. Much to a lot of people’s dismay, I’m sure.”

“You just make friends wherever you go, don’t ya.”

“What can I say? It’s my devastatingly good looks and my boyish charm. You fell off the radar there for a bit, mate. After that last job for me. Heard something about you trying your hand at a normal life? Became a firefighter, started your own business. I’d ask how that all worked out for you, but you wouldn’t be standing here right now if it’d panned out.”

“I still do those things. And I’m going to go back to them; once this is all over.”

Esme frowns as her cell phone vibrates within the back pocket of her jeans, and quickly checks the message. “Millie forgot her backpack,” she informs the two men. “She’s the one who packed and put it somewhere she said she’d see and not leave it behind. I swear that girl would forget her head if it wasn’t attached.”

“Gets more and more like her mother every day,” Alcott chides.

“It’s all her ‘essentials’. Headphones, all her colouring and drawing stuff, her tablet. I’m just going to run it down to her.”

“You want me to come with you?” Tyler offers. “You shouldn’t be going anywhere alone. You…”

“I’ll be alright,” she assures him. “There’s armed guards everywhere. I’m sure one will tag along. Besides, it’s just at the end of the hall.”

“I come bearing gifts,” Alcott offers a bag he’d carried into the room with him; bubble gum pink with white and purple tissues paper. “For the little one. Wine gums. Right from over the pond.”

“She’ll be ecstatic to find out you’re even here. You guys behave, alright? I know how easily trouble finds BOTH of you. Tyler…” Standing on her tiptoes, she presses a kiss to the underside of his chin, then turns to Alcott and pecks his cheek. “...Russell.”

******

The men stand in silence as they watch her go. And the moment she slips from the room, a grinning Tyler turns to his old friend. “Russell?”

“You didn’t hear her say that.”

“Can I call you Russ?”

“Not unless you want me to rearrange that pretty little face of yours. That is need to-know information. And honestly, you don’t need to know it.”

“Why so secretive? It’s just a first name. There some reason to hide it?”

‘I’m not trying to be secretive or hide anything. I just hate the fucking name. Russell. Who does that to their kid? It’s pure shit. Makes me sound like I should be out there wrestling sharks or fist-fighting kangaroos. And I don’t do either, so…”

“And Esme knows your first name because…”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist now. It’s not what you think. It’s NEVER been what’s going through your head right now. We’ve known each other long before you ever came into the picture. And I was in it when you weren’t around. When she needed someone to be there for her.”

“I would have been had I been given the chance.” The anger returns. The bitterness. And he hates himself for feeling those things. Especially towards her. It’s difficult to accept; the fact it will likely be a long and drawn-out process. A bumpy road on the way to full acceptance and full forgiveness.

“That’s not my business. What went down between the two of you. But for what it’s worth, none of it was your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. It wasn’t personal; why she took off. She didn’t do it because she didn’t want to be with you. Or because she didn’t love you. She left because she did.”

“Why didn’t you get a hold of me? Let me know she was okay? Let me know about Millie? Why…?”

“With all due respect, mate, my ties to her? My loyalty? They’re a lot stronger and deeper than the ones I have with you. It wasn’t my secret to tell. I was there for her. As a friend. A confidant. And It wasn’t up to me to play peacemaker. It wasn’t my job to bring the two of you back together. That was all on her. She needed to be ready to do it HERSELF.”

“And nothing ever happened? Between the two of you? Nothing…?”

“You’re really not going down this road, are ya? You really don’t think that…”

“I don’t know what to think. This is all new to me. The two of you even knowing each other, let alone being friends. And when I think about your visiting her and being around my kid and…”

“Nothing EVER happened. Not even close. Not once did either of us ever start down that road. And I can’t speak for her, but I never thought about going down it. We’ve known each other a long time. We’re colleagues. Good friends. And that’s it. That’s all it ever was. And it’s all it ever will be. Do I care about her? Do I love her? I do. But not in the way you do. Am I making sense?”

“You’d tell me. If anything ever…”

“I have no reason to lie to you, Rake. And you should be now: I don’t play games. Do you know how many times she’s talked about you? Cried about you? It’s a hell of a lot. There was never going to be anyone else. No matter how hard they tried. You’ve got nothing to worry about, mate. She loves you. Always has. Always will. You and ONLY you.”

“She talked about me? To you?”

“A girl has to open up to someone, yeah? I was that someone. From time to time. So don’t go there in your head. Nothing good will come of it. She’s back in your life. And she’s brought you a hell of a gift. That little girl is something else, isn’t she? Concentrate on THAT. That little girl and her mother. Nothing else matters.”

“You told her. About Georgia. About Mia and her sister and I…”

“She’d caught wind of it. Through Nik. I just filled in the blanks.”

“You were spying on me. Even after that. I know you’ve been filling her in. On what I’ve been up to.”

“She was worried. About how you were doing. So I checked on you from time to time. Put her fears at ease. It was all out of concern. On her part. She needed to know you were okay.”

“I wasn’t okay though. I was FAR from okay.”

“She didn’t need to know THOSE things. Listen, mate. I like you. A lot. You’re damn good at what you do. You’ve been a hell of an asset to me, that’s for sure. And we ARE friends. But let’s make one thing clear. If I had to choose between you and her? It would be her. No questions asked. Now are you going to drop this shit or..?”

“I just want to know if…”

“And I told you everything there is to know. I do have a word of warning, though. She’s special. She’s a rare breed. Especially in this line of work. So if you’re only inserting yourself back in her life and making promises and declarations of love and always and forever just so you can hurt in the end? Out of some need for revenge?If that comes about…”

“I would NEVER do that.”

“IF that comes about, I will come for you. And I will make things very…uncomfortable…for you. Painful, even. So if screwing her around has even crossed your mind, maybe you SHOULD consider taking that money and fucking off. Because you don’t want to piss me off. You hurt her or that little girl…”

“I already said…”

“...I will be your worst nightmare. And you don’t want that, do you. Now…” Clearing his throat, Alcott plasters on a smile and claps Tyler on the shoulder). “...back to being mates, yeah? I will fill you in on some gossip though. When it comes to your girl, though. Remember how I complained about how the tea was at your place?”

“Vaguely. I do remember you drinking all my milk.”

“Well, I learned right quick that the tea at your place may as well have been liquid gold. Because your lady love? She can’t make a decent cuppa to save her life.”

A smirk plays on Tyler’s lips.

“She claims to be a tea lover. A right tea granny, even. But all this time she’s been making herself -and unsuspecting others- utter shit. Complete pig piss, in my opinion. And you think she’d learn; being such close friends with a Brit. But she never does. It never gets any better.”

“I bet you drink it though.”

“I pretend it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted. Every time. It’s the little things. That makes them happy. And it also spares my balls. I quite like them attached to my body.”

“It’s why I lie about how good the coffee is every time she makes it. And why I spent a year eating food that wasn’t fit for human consumption.”

“Give it at least one more before you drop the truth on her, yeah? Unless you fancy being castrated. Twelve months of getting on her good side should do it. And are you really serious? That this is your last job?”

Tyler nods.

“You know you’ve said that before. A few times. Just since I’ve known you.”

“Maybe if you stopped calling me with offers I can’t resist…”

“Just say no, mate. What do you think will happen if you do? I won’t hold it against you. You owe me nothing. We’ve had this conversation before.”

“Sometimes it’s hard. To say no. To completely walk away.”

“And you’re certain you can do it this time? Walk away and stay away?”

“Now I have a reason to. I have Esme. And Millie. I’ve got a family now. I may not owe you anything, but I owe them a hell of a lot.”

“She deserves a normal life. A partner. A father to her little girl. A husband, even. And if you think you can give her those things…”

“I KNOW I can.”

“She’s got a lot of faith in you. So do I, for that matter. I see the way you look at her. Your whole face just lights right up; whenever she’s even within five feet of you. You’re a different man. If I see it, you know she does too.”

“I hope she does. All I’ve ever wanted was to be with her. Have a life with her. Make her happy. Be the man she wants and needs. Deserves.”

“It won't be easy. It never is for guys like us. Trying to give up this life for a different one.”

“You speaking from experience?”

“Sadly, yeah. I’ve tried. Many times over the last couple of years. Can’t seem to do it. Pull the trigger. Totally commit.”

“So you and you and Mia aren’t…”

“We are. Off and on. Every so often I make promises I never seem to keep and she takes me at my word. It’s a vicious circle. One I can’t seem to break. Not for lack of trying. Mind you. She deserves better than that; someone who just can’t seem to put her first. And I want to. Believe me, I want to.”

“Seems to be her type. Men that can’t give her their all.”

“She never speaks ill of you, for what it’s worth. I know there’s a lot of hurt still there. But I think that’s more to do with losing her only child than it is what you did leading up to it. You gave her closure on that front. And I appreciate that by the way.”

“It’s the least I could do. After all the hurt I caused. And she gave me that, too. Closure. Not that I really deserved it.”

“Did you love her?”

“I did. In a way that was directed solely to her. She was my wife. The mother of my son. And things weren’t always great between us and we both take responsibility for that. It wasn’t just my boy getting sick. Things were rough before that ever happened. We thought we could get through them but…”

“But you did. Love her.”

“It’s what I thought love was, anyway. I was certain she was my one and only. The person I’d spend the rest of my life with. At the time we called it quits for good, I didn’t think I’d ever get over her.”

“But…”

“But then I met Esme. And everything changed. I changed. The way I felt about her…FEEL about her…nothing can even come close to touching it. It took me until I was thirty-five; to find the love of my life. And losing her broke me in ways I never thought possible. I didn’t think I had anything left TO break.”

Alcott nods in understanding.

“She’s everything. My entire world. Even when she was gone, it all revolved around her. I spent every second of every day wanting her back. Trying to find a way to make that happen. I never moved on. Not really. I probably never would have.”

“Like I said, she’s a special sort. A breed all her own.”

“I can’t fuck it up. Now that I have her back. Now that I have a daughter. I can’t lose my family. I’d never survive that. If something happened to Esme…”

“Nothing will. That’s why we’re all here. To make sure nothing DOES happen.”

“And none of this is a slight on Mia. In any way. She’s a good woman in her own right. She deserved a lot better than what I gave her. And I’ll regret it for the rest of my life; leaving her when she needed the most. But I don’t regret that things fell apart. Because if they didn’t, I never would have met Esme. And a life without her is not one I like to think about. Five years? That was long enough.”

“If you fuck this up…”

“I won’t. I won’t make the same mistakes twice. You know, maybe I should be making some threats of my own. When it comes to Mia. She deserves a good man. Someone who loves her and ONLY her. That can put her above their work. And if you can’t do that and YOU hurt HER…”

Alcott chuckles. “You’re the last one that should be threatening me when it comes to Mia. Considering…”

They find themselves interrupted by Esme’s return; bashful and apologetic as Millie rushes into the room ahead of her. Her pigtails swinging from side to side and her brilliant blue eyes sparkling; her giggles and squeals filling the room.

******

“Uncle Duey!”

Alcott catches her the moment she leaps off the ground, giving that rich, deep chuckle as he throws her high over his head. Once…twice…three times, before expertly catching her and showering her face with kisses; eyes briefly closing as he gathers her close to his chest and squeezes as tight as her tiny body will allow.

Tyler notices the remarkable change in the man. The softness to his face, the glitter in his eyes, and the gentleness to his smile; one of his large, scarred hands cradling the back of Millie’s head as he presses his lips to her temple. And it’s bittersweet; the knowledge that so many people got the chance to meet and love on his daughter before he did.

“I missed you!” Millie presses a noisy kiss to Alcott’s lips, then pulls back to look at him; pouting as she holds his face in her tiny hands. “It’s been forever Since I last saw you!”

“It’s only been two months.”

“Two months is wayyy too long! It felt like two forevers! Where have you been?!”

“Working. In different countries. I couldn’t come see you and mum until I was finished. Some bad guys needed taken care of.”

“And did you? Take care of them?”

“Of course.”

“You killed ‘em, didn’t you.”

“Amelia!” Esme scolds. “What in the…?”

“Uncle Duey kills bad guys just like Auntie Nik and Uncle Yaz do. And just like Tyler does. It’s not exactly a secret, mom.”

Grinning, Tyler nudges Alcott with his elbow. “Uncle Duey?”

“Tyler?”

“We can talk about THAT later.”

“He’s Uncle Duey ‘cause when he visits, there’s THREE of us,” Millie explains, holding up the exact number of fingers. “There’s him, momma, and me. Like in the cartoon. Huey. Duey, and Louie. I came up with it! All my myself!”

“That’s because you are very smart,” Alcott praises. “Like your mum. And you also let me pick which I wanted, didn’t ya. And do you remember why I chose what I did? Why I picked Duey?”

Millie let’s loose a near-perfect English accent. “‘Cause the other two sounded like right wankers.”

Laughing, her ‘uncle’ presses a kiss to her forehead. “That’s exactly right. Did you like your surprise?”

Millie nods enthusiastically. “I love wine gums! They’re my favourite! Especially the ones you bring!”

“That’s ‘cause those are the real deal. Straight from over the pond. Right from England. You know how hard those were to actually get here? The issues I had getting them through customs? Short of having to smuggle them up my a…”

“Uncle Duey needs to learn to watch what he says around little ears,” Esme gently scolds.

“Mom, he was only going to ‘ass’. You say ‘fuck’ around me all the time.”

“She’s a chip off the old block, I see. The apple truly doesn’t fall far from the tree. So what’s this I hear? About this Tyler bloke being your mum’s new boyfriend? What do you think of him? You like him?”

“I love him! He’s nice to momma. And to be. We have lots of fun together. He takes me swimming and lets me watch Coco Melon and Bluey on his phone and he put games on there for me. And he takes me for pancakes!”

“That’s quite the five-star review.”

“And he protected me from the bad guys. When they tried to get to us today. He made sure that I was safe and sound and I didn’t end up getting hurt AT ALL. He did though; ‘cause he lied on top of me and kept me under him so nothing could get me.”

“Just a few cuts,” Tyler assures her. “Nothing serious.”

“And I was really scared and he calmed me down. He didn’t leave me alone to go after the bad guys. He just sat there with me and hugged me and rubbed my back and played with my hair and made me feel better. And he didn’t even get mad. When I peed my pants. I didn’t mean to, but…”

“That happens when we’re scared,” her uncle sympathizes. “I used to do it as a wee lad. All the time. Nothing for you to be sorry for or for anyone to get mad about. So you like this guy? He’s good to you? And your mum?”

“Like I said, I love him.”

“There’s nothing else I need to know then. Now, you need to go and get what you need and then go with Abeula,” he nods in the woman’s direction as she lingers nearby. “‘Cause the adults really need to talk. It’s time to figure some stuff out. When it comes to bad guys.”

“That’s why you’re here? The bad guys? You’re gonna help?”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“The bad guys REALLY don’t stand a chance now. We got you and Tyler and Uncle John and Auntie Nik and Uncle Yaz…”

“The best of the best. Now come on.” He pecks each of her cheeks as her ‘nanny’ steps forward to collect her). “I’ll see you in a little while, ya?”

“Maybe we can get ice cream?”

“I’m sure I could manage to steal you away for a bit. You be good, ya? I don’t want to hear any different.”

“I’m always good!” Millie declares, and shrugs into the backpack that Abuella over her; rushing through the room and over to the armed guard that stands by the door. “Frank! You wanna play ‘Go Fish’? When we get back to the room? I brought my cards!”

“She’s going to hustle him. Gonna take him for a few large for sure. Last time we played, she cheated the entire time and took me for every jelly bean I had to my name. Then had to bloody nerve to say ‘don’t hate the player, hate the game’.” Laughing, he turns to Tyler and claps a hand down onto the back of his neck. “You better buckle up, mate. ‘Cause you’re in for a treat with that one.”

******

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Nik addresses the group gathered around in the conference room. “We’ve been given less than thirty-six hours to be checked out of here. And we have to do it peacefully or quietly or…and this is a direct quote…’we will be subjected to the full weight and wrath of The High Table.”

Alcott gives a derisive snort. “The old fuck making his usual threats. I’d like to see him try. I won’t think twice about putting him in the ground.”

Wick sighs from across the table; his scarred hands raking through his hair and down his weary, unshaven face. “I just want to go on record and say that while Winston and I are…WERE…friends, I don’t support ANY of this. The things he’s doing, the things he’s saying. I’m just as disappointed and pissed as everyone else. Believe me.”

“We do,” Nik assures him. “We ALL do. And eventually, when this is all handled and things calm down, Winston WILL pay the price. I can promise you that.”

Alcott cheekily raises his hand. “If you don’t mind, I’d love to be there when it happens. AND take part.”

Nik tries to suppress a grin. “I will be sure to include you. Now before we get down to business, I want to assure everyone that this is a secure room. Yaz did a complete security sweep; both manually and electronically. While he didn’t find anything, he’s put measures in place to block any of kind of ‘spyware’ from listening in and recording. We’re trying to keep Winston in the dark. And I’d appreciate if nothing to do with this mission is talked about outside of this room. Because if he catches wind, he WILL try and stop us and he will try and stop us and will do whatever it takes to prevent Tyler from removing Esme and Millie from the building. Is everyone on board?”

A collection of nods spreads from one end of the table to the other.

“Everything goes down at one am, Thursday morning,” Nik launches into her ‘sell’. “John Wick will create a distraction by throwing lit matches down the ninth-floor garbage chute; waiting precisely two minutes before proceeding to pull the alarm and call the fire department. From a Continental extension. The call however will be diverted to our tech people; acting as nine-one-one operators who will respond by sending out two units. John, if you want to explain further…”

“Pretending to the first on the scene will be a friend of mine. Aureilo. He owns a mechanic place in town and has always been on our side. He’s helped me more times than I can count. And I know Nik you’ve had contact with him in the past and have had no complaints with his work.”

She nods in agreement.

“With him will be three of his men from his shop; two of them have firefighter experience. They will come into The Continental and ‘asses’ the situation. They’ll make themselves look legit, then call the actual nine-one-one from their cell phones and report what’s happening.”

“It enables us to clear the building,” Nik adds. “It creates a big enough distraction, but one that’s completely plausible. There’s nothing suspicious about it. It won’t raise eyebrows.”

“I have a question,” Alcott speaks up, then turns to Wick. “Where are these guys getting a fire truck?”

A grin tugs at the Wick’s mouth. “That’s ‘need to know’ information. And no one really needs to know that.”

“While guests are leaving the building as per the instructions of the first responding unit, Tyler will start the extraction, Using a key to the service elevator that Charon has given us…”

Esme arches a brow. “Charon’s in on this too?”

“He’s just as pissed as we are,” Wick explains. “He offered his assistance. In any way. So far, we’ve just taken him up on this small thing.”

“Tyler will use the service elevator to take Esme and Millie to the loading dock. Yaz has arranged for three armoured SUVs to be waiting. Tyler, Esme, and Millie will be on one, Yaz and I will use the other to serve as a decoy, and the final one will be driven by Alcott who will follow Tyler at a safe and unnoticeable distance.”

“Once they’re in the service elevator, I’ll head across the street and take up a sniper position on the roof,” Wick chimes in. “Nik has small teams of her own men on roofs of adjacent buildings.”

“Better to be safe than sorry,” she explains.

“You’re going to extract both together?” Alcott sounds wary. “Mother and child at the same time?”

“It makes the most sense. It…”

“It makes the least sense,” he interrupts. “For what I think are very obvious reasons.”

Nik sighs. “You don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“To be quite honest…and with all due respect…I think it’s a shit idea. And I’m actually appalled you couldn’t do better.”

Sighing, Nik leans back in her chair; chewing on the inside of her cheek as she struggles to maintain her patience. She’s been on edge since the incident that morning; unnerved by the extremely close call, Winston’s possible involvement, and his heartless response to the fact that two lives had been threatened. Especially that of a child he supposedly loved as if they shared the same blood. “I’m interested in hearing why you think that.”

“The little one isn’t the main target. It’s not her they want.” He holds up his hand in a plea for silence when Nik opens her mouth to object. “I think most of us…IF not ALL of us…realize that what happened this morning? It’s not connected to any of this. It has nothing to do with the DiTomasso’s. That wasn’t their doing. That isn’t how they operate.”

“You can’t be sure of that. You have no experience with them. You…”

“But I know people who do. Who’ve gone face to face with them and lived to tell about it. Minus a couple of somewhat non-essential body parts, mind you.”

Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, Esme reaches for her glass of ice water and takes a sip.

Tyler frowns; noticing the distinct tremble to her hand. And he reaches out and lays one of his hands on the nape of her neck; fingers softly and comfortingly massaging at the tense muscles.

“ They’re up close and personal,” Alcott continues. “They showed that the other night, yeah? At the house?”

“They weren’t afraid to make some noise,” Wick informs the group. “I’ve seen police SWAT teams with less bodies and firepower.”

“They’re not cowards,” Alcott adds. “They don’t attack from far away. Not their style. They like to get blood on their hands, and I mean that quite literally. What happened this morning is NOT related to that family. I am one hundred percent sure of that.”

Nik reaches for her mug of coffee. “So now we have two things to worry about.”

“No need to worry about the shooting. I’ve got people out there. On the ground. They’ll find out who it was and they’ll take care of it. It’s none of your concern now. It’s out of your hands. My boys will fish ‘em out and take ‘em out.”

“And I’m just supposed to take your word for that?”

“When have I not been good on my word?”

She relents; briefly blowing on the steaming, black brew before taking a sip.

“Our main concern right now is this plan of yours,” Alcott says. “Now for the most part, it’s solid. It’s workable. It’s all clean, fairly easy. Until the actual extraction. Then it all goes to shit. It’s a mess. And it’s just begging for trouble.”

“Because…”

“You’re out of your bloody mind if you honestly think extracting and transporting both…together… is a good idea. You’re putting the child in harm’s way if you do that. These people want Esme. And they won’t care who's with her when they go after her. Extra bodies are nothing but collateral damage. Regardless of age. Do you really want to risk that? Them getting ugly and trying something and the little one paying the price?”

“Extracting both at the same time saves manpower. It…”

“To hell with the manpower. Look at all the people here! At your disposal. Instead of wasting what we bring to the table by just having us ‘keep an eye out’, use us to your advantage. Two extraction teams. One for Esme, one for the child. This isn’t rocket science.”

“Tyler…” Nik observes him from across the table, making note of the furrowed brow, tight jaw, and lips set in a thin, firm line. And while one hand continues to lightly and lovingly rub at the back of Esme’s neck, the other repeatedly taps a pen against a pad paper that sits in front of him “...you’re the lead operative on this. It really comes down to what YOU feel comfortable with.”

“As a whole, I’m fine with the way things are.”

“But…”

“Alcott’s right. It IS a bad idea; to transport them at the same time. It’s not…”

The man in question grins. “Did it hurt to admit that? That I’m right? Was it physically painful? The worst agony you’ve ever known?”

“... getting out of the building I’m worried about; I’ve got lots of help close by if I need it. Not to mention Esme isn’t a rookie. She isn’t a normal client; she knows how quickly things can go bad. She knows what to expect.”

“Again, I ask. But?”

“Even she has her limitations. And I’m sure she’s the first one to admit that.”

Beside him, a silent Esme nods in agreement.

“Two teams makes the most sense,” Tyler continues. “If we want to get them out of here quietly, quickly, AND safely, doing it separately is the most logical thing. If things go wrong, I can’t be taking care of that and worrying about Esme getting hurt and someone grabbing Millie or her taking off because she’s scared. Had she been a bit older…”

“It’s very personal,” Alcott adds. “For all of us. Everyone’s emotions are running high. But Tyler has the most to lose. If things go wrong…and I mean horribly wrong…he’s the one that ends up suffering long term for it. I’m thinking of EVERYONE here. I want what’s safest and easiest for all of us. But especially for him and his family.”

“And you feel that two separate teams…”

“I have a lot of experience. When it comes to the job. More than you and your brother and Tyler put together. I’ve been at it a hell of a lot longer. And I’ve known some damn good mercenaries. Guys that could handle their shit. And this man…” He wags a finger in Tyler's direction. “...is one of the best. If not THE best. But not even the best can do it all on their own. They need backup. And with all these extra bodies you’ve got at the ready…”

“I think there’s a few things we can all agree on,” Wick speaks up. “The first is that we didn’t come here to just sit around. To just ‘watch and wait’. We came here to be useful. To get our hands dirty.”

Alcott nods in agreement.

“We’re all here because this IS personal,” he continues. “Because this time it’s our friends that need help. Our family. It’s why we agreed to all this. Why we’re sticking around. This isn’t a normal job. It’s about as far from it as you can get. And if we can shed all the blood, sweat, and tears for people we don’t know? Then we’re prepared to shed twice as much for people we do. Alcott’s right; this is the last job where we should be thinking about sparing manpower.”

“Now THIS man,” Alcott nods in Wick’s direction. “Is MY kind of people.”

“Having Esme and Millie together IS foolish,” Wick continues. “It’s putting Millie even more at risk than she already is. And I think that’s the last thing her mother….or her father…want.”

“I don’t feel comfortable taking them together,” Tyler admits. “IF it was a normal job and people I didn’t know? I wouldn’t hesitate. But I have way too much to lose, Nik. These people are going to come for Esme; they won’t give a shit who is with her. And that’s why I’d rather it just be me. Because at least I can fight back. Millie is the most innocent in all of this. Maybe the ONLY innocent one. I don’t want her in the line of fire.”

Nik nods slowly as she considers everyone’s thoughts and opinions. “Sounds like the main players are all on the same page. Does everyone else agree? That we should change things up?”

“Just the extraction part,” Alcott stresses. “Everything else can stay the same. Just need an extra team. To get Millie out. I’m more than willing. She’s known me for a long time. Considers me her uncle. I used to feed her and change her dirty nappies. Take naps with her on the couch. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. And that includes making sure nothing happens to her.”

“Other than Nik or Yaz, You’re probably the only person she WILL go with,” Esme says. “At least peacefully. It’s still going to be hard; convincing her to leave me behind. We’ve never really been separated. And we’ve definitely never gone through anything like this together. But, I can’t make that decision alone. When it comes to just handing her over to you.” Laying a hand on Tyler’s knee, she tightly squeezes. “WE need to decide that. Together. Her mom and dad.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Tyler’s mouth and he leans sideways in his chair; pressing a brief kiss to her temple before pushing his fingers through hers and placing their joined hands on his thigh. “If you think it’s or the best…”

“I trust him, Tyler. I’m not one to just hand Millie over. And I wouldn’t do it if I wasn’t certain that he could take care of her. He really WOULD do anything to keep her safe. I don’t question that at all.”

“And you know she’d be okay with it?”

“It’s going to take some convincing regardless of who I choose. But he’s been there since she was just a tiny baby. She’s known him all her life. And I know she loves him and trusts him.”

“I just want what’s best for her. WHO is best for her.”

“I wouldn’t try to sell Alcott to you if I didn’t trust him. Completely.”

Sighing, he briefly chews on his bottom lip; thumb continuously brushing against the top of her hand. “I trust Esme more than I trust anyone. And if she thinks you’re the right guy for the job, I have no reason to doubt it. I’m good with it. If you’re willing to take her on…”

“More than willing.”

“But I warn you, mate. If anyone gets a hold of her and hurts her…”

“You don’t have to finish that threat. If that happened, I’d off myself before you had the chance to get to me.”

“Then that’s what we’ll go with,” Nik says. “Alcott will be in charge of extracting Millie and Abeula and getting them to the airport. Once you’ve successfully gotten her out of The Continental, you’ll call Wick on his secure phone; he’ll abandon his post on the roof of the building across the street and meet up with you. It’s up to the both of you to come up with a preferred pick-up spot outside of the hot zone.”

“We’re gonna have to grab a drink later,” Alcott addresses Wick. “And make sure to bring a big map. ‘Cause I don’t know fuck all where anything is in this city.”

“It’s up to the two of you to sort that out and make a firm plan,” Nik informs him. “For now, we call it a night. We all sleep on the game plan. We meet again…same place…at noon tomorrow. To see if there’s any other concerns or if we’re all comfortable and on board with things. If we are, we run through everything. This is as personal as it gets. We can’t have any issues. We can’t have things go wrong. We can’t have any fuck ups.”

“What about Winston?” Esme inquires. “I’m usually not one that’s hell-bent on revenge, but when he didn’t show any concern for what happened to Millie and I can’t let that lie. I can’t…”

Nik smirks, then aggressively snaps the lid of her laptop closed. “Don’t you worry about that. He’ll get what’s coming to him.”