#oc: eavesdropper

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humanized slugcat ocs

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AGGIE WITH US AGAIN!(OPEN INVITE)(ONGOING)

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[misterth3m]

Main antagonists of Three Wise Warriors: The Shogun and the Corpses.

Second image is the concept art of the Corpses.

[filmoflifeburst]

POV: You break into a private room at the Walden.

You drank so much that you couldn’t find your way back. Driven by the effects of alcohol, you wandered up the stairs next to the restroom to the second floor of the Walden. This level was usually reserved for distinguished guests, with numerous mysterious private rooms lined up. Strangely, it seemed unusually quiet today. From the last room, you heard the voices of a few men in conversation, interspersed with a cold, female voice. Recklessly, you guessed it belonged to a young woman. Something about it seemed familiar—was it the daughter of your neighbor, one of your teachers from boarding school, or a news anchor on the radio? Driven by curiosity, you rashly approached the curtain, hoping to hear more of that voice. You stood still for a few seconds like a lurking eavesdropper, but then someone lifted the curtain. No, two people did.

The first figure you saw was a man in a sharp suit standing closest to the woman with her back to you. The second was a man who looked like a Sicilian mercenary—you guessed his profession based on his sly, cruel grin. Behind him stood the barkeeper of the Walden. Forget Me Not frowned and then tilted his chin upward. It was hard to tell whether his expression conveyed contempt or resignation, but it was likely no different from the arrogance he often displayed without effort.

Finally, the only woman present slowly turned to face you. You didn’t recognize her, and in that instant, you regretted barging in. Her face bore an expression, but her features were as blank and innocent as a sheet of white paper. Her eyes were a muted gold, and her long hair was braided and draped down her back. Like Forget Me Not and the young man standing beside her—who you guessed was no older than eighteen, perhaps younger—she was dressed predominantly in black and white. Yet, she appeared the simplest of them all. Her plain black linen dress bore no patterns, resembling the austere style of a nun in penance. Suddenly, you realized what lingered in her expression was a mixture of compassion and innocence, two unrelated emotions. Then, your gaze fell upon the pure gold short staff she held tightly in her hand, gripping it like a dagger.

You remembered the rumors about this bar. She was an arcanist, a witch, and that was her wand — wrapped with a snake that flicked its tongue! You wanted to flee, but your feet seemed rooted to the ground. The figures behind the curtain became like a frozen oil painting, all staring at you in various ways: with pity, indifference, disdain, or malice.

Then you heard her voice again, devoid of emotion: “I’m sorry.”

Ah, she was a venomous snake without a hiss. That was the last truth you realized.

*Commission

*My OCs and Pavinot

[thisreadswhatever]

Anything For The Club: Part Four

series masterlist

[description]: jax teller x fem!reader, nero padilla x fem!reader, oc characters x fem!reader

[wordcount]: 1.2k+

[summary]: Things start heating up after you receive a threatening phone call.

[series cw]: 18+ minors do not interact! female reader, swearing, sexual harassment/assault (non-canon characters), alcohol use, mix of fluff, smut and angst throughout, p in v sex, teasing, violence, gun use, mentions of blood, murder, blackmail

Nero spent the next few hours poking fun at your office escapades, highly amused at the whole thing. It wasn’t the first time you and Jax had fucked in your office, but the first time everyone realised it was happening when you were in the act. You continued to work as usual, and The Club headed out for some business. 

You were trying to avoid Mandy and her questions about the letter as best as you could, so you decided to spend the rest of the evening on the front desk, greeting clients and assisting the girls in assigning their rooms. 

The front desk was always easy going. The phones never really rang in Diosa, only the occasional caller interested in opening times or room availability. So when the phone did ring, you always had the girls answer it. Sofia was one of the front desk staff who had been working at Diosa for only a few weeks now, she was young, blonde and always overly cheerful to everyone she met. She answered the call, before turning to look at you, holding the phone against her chest to avoid the caller from hearing her speak. “It’s for you, y/n. Says we are overdue on an invoice for maintenance services.” 

“It’s almost midnight, they’re calling about a payment now?” Sofia shrugged her shoulders, and extended the phone to you. You took it from her, and placed it to your ear.

“Y/N speaking, can I help you?” 

“Ah, just the voice I wanted to hear.”

You instantly recognised his voice from the night before. You felt goosebumps cover your whole body and a sickening feeling twisted in your gut. You shifted away from the incoming clientele, trying to avoid any eavesdroppers hearing you. 

“Why the fuck are you calling here? If I wasn’t clear enough, you and your crew are no longer welcome at Diosa”, you were hostile in tone despite the fact you were whispering. 

“Relax, sweetheart. Only wanted to ask you on a date.” 

“Listen asshole, I’m not interested. Don’t ever call this number again.” You slammed the phone in the holder, but your hand never left it. You stood there, hand on the phone hook, frozen in shock at the audacity of this man. He was taunting you, first the letter, now this? What the fuck did he want? 

The phone rang again and you answered it briskly, “I just told you to not fucking-”

“Shut the fuck up and listen. Otherwise your pretty President is going away for a long time.”

You didn’t respond. 

“Good girl. You can take instructions after all. Now listen to me carefully. Tomorrow you’re gonna be at the diner just outside of Charming, Highway 23. Tell a member of SAMCRO and they all go to prison for exchanging AK’s across the Mexican border. This ain’t a bluff. If you aren’t there tomorrow, Jax and his shitty little club goes down for life. Do you understand me?”

You wanted to respond, but you couldn’t get your mouth to move. You were utterly broken in shock, with no repair in sight. 

“Do you understand me?” he repeated. 

“Yes.” 

“Good girl. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. Wear a sexy dress for me.” 

The line hung up. 

Fear had frozen you solid to your core, a feeling you hadn’t ever experienced before. Nothing usually scared you. Until now. 

“Who was that?” Nero appeared behind you, making you jump. He placed his hand on your shoulder, leaning in to meet your eyes, “Easy ese, are you good?”  

You swallowed back the lump that had forged in your throat. “An overdue invoice I forgot to settle. I’ll figure it out tomorrow.” Your voice cracked as you spoke. 

“At this time of night? Who's the bill for?” You really didn’t need Nero’s interrogation right now. 

“Maintenance. Guess they really need their money.” 

“If there’s somethin’ you’re not telling me.. I can’t help you if I don’t know. We’re partners, remember?”

“Everything’s fine. Can you lock up again tonight? Jax left his keys and can’t get into the house.” 

He narrowed his eyes, not buying the story you were pushing. “Get back to Jax, I can handle it tonight.” “Thanks, Nero.” 

You practically ran out of Diosa, fumbling with your keys as your hands couldn’t keep up with your brain. As you drove home, you kept replaying his words in your head. He must want money, you told yourself. Why else would this guy be so up your ass? What was he getting out of threatening the club? 

You recalled what Nero had told you last night, Vagos was a crew involved with the cartels south of the border. You didn’t doubt with those connections that he could have dirt to bring down The Club. You figured he must’ve seen Diosa and thought The SONS were raking it in, and he must want a piece of that. It still didn’t make sense why he would want you to be the cash mule, when it was known old lady’s had nothing to do with club business. The Club couldn’t get you out of this one, and you sure as hell couldn’t tell Jax.

Your ears were still ringing from his words, Club goes down for life. You weren’t ever going to let that happen. 

You were hoping you were home early enough that Jax would still be at the clubhouse. As you pulled on the drive, you saw the hallway light was on, and he was home. 

You signed to yourself, “fuck.”

You weren't sure how you could see him without him realising something was going on. Jax could read your face from a mile away. 

When you got into the house, he was at the kitchen table, shirt off and covered in oil, as he wrote in his journal. He was surprised to see you, smiling ear to ear. “Hey darlin’, what are you doing home so early?” He stood from the table and embraced you, kissing you like you hadn’t been sprawled across your office desk for him that same afternoon. 

“Quiet night. Nero said he could handle it.” 

He peered down at you in his arms, before kissing you on the head. “I’m glad you’re back now, I was just finishing up and then gonna shower. Wanna join me? Round two?” He grinned at you and rubbed his nose against yours.

“Actually, Jax, I’m pretty tired. I was just hoping to get to bed.” 

He pulled from your embrace, holding you at arms length, searching your face for what was wrong.

“Something’s up with you.” 

You were pleading with his eyes for him to let it go. “I just don’t feel great. I’m fine.” It felt so wrong lying to him.  

He didn’t let up, eyes completely locked with yours as he stood back. “What aren’t you telling me?” 

You shook your head, hoping you could sell your lies well enough for him to back off. “Nothing, Jax. I’m okay. Just had a long few days and I’m kinda run down. But I’m okay, trust me.” 

He pulled you in again, pressing your face against his chest, your cheek rubbing against his warm chest.

“Alright, I'll join you in a bit.”

You stood on your toes to reach his face, planting a kiss on his lips.

“Love you.” 

“Love you more, darlin’.”

You hastily walked to the bedroom and shut the door behind you. He could see straight through you. He knew you were hiding something, he just couldn’t figure out what it was you were keeping from him. 

———

part five

find my masterlist here

[almosthonest]

hey boppers with potential ocs! i've got something for you! write about how your oc got their gang name and/or got initiated into their gang (whether if be a gang you made up or in an already existing one from the movie/musical/game!) here's mine!

─────────────── ✦ ───────────────

And You Shall Be Reborn as Peart

His own drumsticks saved his life. Although, snapped in fours, he had other pairs. It was no worry. But, too bad, for those had been his favorite pair of drumsticks. Broken up on the ground, and he was maybe broken on the ground, too. Buried, bloodied after the battle he had with the fucking Turnbulls of all gangs. That Hector Lavoe looking motherfucker. He got him good. So good that he passed out on the way to the bar that he usually slept at.

Sawyer realized he wasn't there anymore when he woke up. Some light blinded him, and he already had the worst headache you could possibly imagine. When his vision finally kicked in, he realized that he's on someone else's turf instead of the place he's sleeping at.

"Aw, fuck, not again, man," he muttered to himself as he finally sat up.

"Hey! Hey guys, he's awake!"

Sawyer didn't even know where the source of the voice came from. He looked around. He didn't know where he was. Not until he peeped one of the vests. He recognized their colors almost right away. The Rogues.

Even though, he looked half dead, Sawyer had to look alive. The last thing he wanted was to show that he was confused. Or even worse, scared.

"What the hell am I doin' here?"

"You're very straight to the point. Don't you wanna know who I am first?"

Sawyer didn't even have to ask. He knew immediately. He could identify almost all the leaders by heart. He shook his head. "I already know who you are, Luther."

"Oh, so you do your research."

"It's not research when people are actively talking about it," Sawyer told him.

"Oh. So you're an eavesdropper. Good to know," Luther said back, his other gang members laughing behind him.

Sawyer scrunched up his nose at the laughter. Immature. They don't take anything serious. That's what he observed. He also knew that they didn't fight fair. At least, from what he saw and heard.

Then, Luther practically threw something at him. He looked down. They're his broken drumsticks from earlier. Hazel eyes look up at Luther, his nose still scrunched up.

"You took on the Turnbulls with a pair of drumsticks. I say you've got good combat."

Sawyer raised an eyebrow. "Okay? And?"

"And? Is that how you talk to your new leader?" Luther grumbled.

"Dude, you're not my leader, I'm not even initiated," Sawyer told him, "and besides. I roll on my own. I don't need no gang."

Sawyer didn't need to be in one. He could hold his own. He had been doing it for years. Parents kicked him out when he was fifteen. He's been sleeping at the same bar since he was seventeen. He's a lot older, wiser, street wise. He's been on his own for years. He could handle more.

"No?"

"No. Three gangs have already asked me. Same answer every time. No," Sawyer told him, "besides, who the hell took me here anyway?"

"Don't worry about it," Luther grumbled, "god, you talk a lot."

"You're not really good at convincing me. What's in it for me? If I join?" Sawyer asked.

It was a question that he gave every gang, and every gang so far couldn't answer it. Wreaking Havoc was already something that Sawyer did on his own. And he didn't even do that, he just stole to survive.

"Well, what do you want?" Luther questioned.

"A new pair of drumsticks for one," Sawyer mumbled. It's sarcastic, as he had a few more pairs in the bag that he carried, "no, but seriously. The one thing I want is not to use the subway anymore. I hate trains."

"You're in luck. We have a hearse."

Sawyer looked up at him. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Luther answered, "it's why we have an advantage."

"So. When's the initiation?"

That was fast. But Sawyer would rather ride with a gang by hearse rather than on foot or subway. He never knew what trains to get on, he never knew what letters represented what. It made him feel stupid. And Sawyer? He hated feeling stupid.

"Right now," Luther answered, "you know the Furies?"

"Those mute dudes with the bats that only come out at night? Who rule near the West Side? Yeah, I've seen 'em," Sawyer told him, "why?"

"They've got somethin' of ours, we want it back. If you manage to steal what they took from us and get it back, you're in."

Sawyer scoffed. "That's it?"

"The Furies are no joke, man," said another guy. Sawyer had no idea who he was, and honestly he didn't even care.

"I know it."

"So, if you succeed, you're in. If not, you get to roam the streets on your own again," Luther told him, "so we have a deal or not?"

Sawyer ran a hand through his hair. It's gotten long and shaggy the past couple of years. All ten of them, really. He looked at the Rogues gang leader.

"Yeah, alright. We have a deal."

──── ✧ ────

Sawyer got it. Now he had to get out of there as soon as possible. He ran through the park, the Furies are after him. He ran through the park, though he was trapped. He scoped it out, see what he can use. Sawyer is surrounded, drumsticks in his hands, artifact in his bag. Whatever it was. He didn't fucking know. All he knew was that he had to get back to the hearse.

From swings to seesaw, Sawyer maneuvered quickly. More broken drumsticks, more bumps and bruises. Furies fell all over the park, the rest of them fled. Blood on the ground, even his own. Hair messed up, the Furies leaders chased him through the park until he got halfway through to the hearse.

More drumsticks are broken. Unfortunately, he's broken his last pair, and he's resorted to fists. Punch to the nose with one of the members, kick to another.

"They're down! C'mon!" One of the Rogues shouted.

Before he even goes back to the hearse, he spits in the Furies faces, blood from his mouth. He looked back, Cropsy staring, almost in awe, Luther in satisfaction. Sawyer quickly ran back to the hearse, he got in, and they sped off.

Sawyer took the item out of his own bag, placing it on the armrest. "There."

"You're good," Luther said, almost impressed.

The hearse is quiet. Sawyer is rubbing the blood from his nose. Maybe wearing white was a bad decision, especially since there was now so much blood on the sleeves. Bruised, bloodied. He didn't even know if it was worth it. Not until ...

"Peart."

Sawyer looked up. "What?"

"Peart," Luther repeated.

"Like, Neil Peart? The drummer from Rush?" Sawyer asked.

"Well, it fits. You kick ass with those drumsticks," Cropsy said back.

"And that's who you shall be," Luther added, "You shall be reborn as Peart."

[cetaitlaverite]

Anything to Anywhere

Masters of the Air - Bucky Egan x OC

sorry for the delay!! we are so back masterlist is here <3

13. Clay Pigeons

‘Stels,

Went on leave in London. I copied out the number of my hotel on the other side of this note. Call if you want to talk.

- John’

Stella had read and reread the note at least a hundred times since finding it beneath an empty mug at the place she sat at breakfast everyday. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling.

After storming out on him she’d spent all night tossing and turning, trying to come up with what she would say when she inevitably saw him the next day. Today. She’d even come up with something she was somewhat satisfied with. She knew she was a difficult person to deal with and resented that she showed some of her most complicated parts to John, so she’d put extra effort into forcing herself to be vulnerable when she explained herself.

But he was gone. Come morning, he had organised leave, packed up his belongings, and fled to London.

It made sense, Stella supposed, that he wasn’t going to stick around, holding his breath waiting for an apology he had no reason to expect was coming. But his absence stung her all the same. She didn’t care that he’d left a number for her to contact him on, she cared that he wasn’t here, that he’d just gone.

Screwing the letter up in one hand, Stella buried it in her pocket and thanked the waiter who delivered her breakfast. Then she went about her business as usual, trying her best to contribute to Alice and Jessop’s conversation even when she felt like storming out.

She flew her chits and mulled over everything she might say to John on the phone. She wouldn’t call him, she knew, but it was almost thrilling to imagine a version of herself who might. If she were braver or bolder or more forgivable she supposed she would. At this point, she’d made herself so utterly undesirable she was sure John had left the number solely out of courtesy and didn’t much want anything more to do with her.

Even still, that night she found herself gnawing on her bottom lip, sitting on her bed with her teddy bear in her lap as she toyed with the idea of calling.

He would be out, she reasoned with herself. He wouldn’t be sitting around in his hotel room, not on his first visit to London.

But then again, if she called and left a message at least he’d know she actually had called. She wouldn’t have to speak to him but he’d know she’d tried.

But he probably didn’t even want to hear from her. It was courtesy, she reminded herself. He didn’t mean it.

But if he did pick up, she wouldn’t have to have that difficult conversation she’d spent all night thinking up in person, and how much easier would it be to do it over the phone? He wouldn’t get to see her blush or tear up or any number of embarrassing things she might do when she had to apologise. All she would have to do was keep her voice steady.

So, pyjamas on, Stella shoved her feet into her boots and made her way to the ATA hut through the dark, to the only telephone she could use and guarantee no one would overhear her. Usually she’d go to the officers’ club, but at this time of night it would be packed and she didn’t much fancy dodging eavesdroppers while standing in the midst of everyone in her pyjamas.

Her heart was in her throat as she listened to the phone ring and she hadn’t even been put through to the operator yet. Her left foot was tapping vigorously against the ground, her right hand twisting and untwisting the telephone cord. She kept glancing over her shoulder, seeking out silhouettes in the dark corners of the room where the lamplight didn’t reach, kept tugging at the hem of her nightdress as though unwanted eyes were on her.

She felt she could have been sick.

When the operator put her through to John’s hotel the nausea only got worse. Stella considered hanging up a good many times but reasoned with herself that she’d traipsed all the way across base to get here so she was going to make it worth her while.

And then the hotel receptionist came on the phone and put her through to John’s room.

And then, after a hefty bout of ringing, the receptionist came back on the phone again.

“He doesn’t seem to be in, miss,” the receptionist said, the apology heavy in her voice. It was clear that, in spite of how Stella had introduced herself simply as a friend, the receptionist had inferred some sort of romantic intimacy in her relationship to John, had inferred that she was calling him in the middle of the night because she was suspicious of what he was doing in London.

Stella hated that implication. And she hated what the fact that he really wasn’t in his hotel room at eleven o’clock at night actually did imply.

“Oh,” Stella said, sounding forlorn even though she hadn’t honestly expected John to be in. “Can I - um -” She stopped to clear her throat of its awkward hoarseness. “Can I leave a message? Maybe?”

“Of course, miss,” the receptionist hurried to assure her warmly.

“Thank you,” Stella said, then hesitated. She was left breathing down the phone as she warred with herself about what to say. She couldn’t decide whether or not to deliver her prepared spiel to this random, unfortunate receptionist over the phone, but then the receptionist prompted her to speak and she could ruminate on it no more. Tentatively, she began, “Can you please tell him that Stella Finley called for him. That’s me. Obviously. Um - Sorry -” She shook her head at herself. “Can you just tell him that I said I’m sorry for running away from him. And that he was right. About my brothers. And - and just that I’m really sorry for being so difficult all the time and I don’t deserve to have him as a friend. Okay, that’s everything.”

The other end of the line was quiet. Stella worried, briefly, that the receptionist had hung up on her. But then she said, “I’ve got it all written down, miss. I’ll make sure to pass the message on.” There was something sad in her voice.

Stella let her eyes fall resignedly shut and breathed, “Thank you,” in reply.

She had no idea how long John was supposed to be on leave and, at first, she tried to convince herself not to care. She went to breakfast and flew her chits and wrote up her flight reports and went to dinner and went to the officers’ club and read her books and went about her business the way she always did. But she couldn’t ignore how big of a hole there was in her life; not having John there to talk to whenever she so desired left a bigger gap than she would have realised had he not so suddenly removed himself from it. A chasm, really.

He didn’t call her back the entirety of the following day.

Stella went to see Buck before he went out on his next mission.

“Finley,” he greeted her, glancing up in surprise when DeMarco, beside him, nudged him to get his attention.

“Hi,” Stella greeted in return, squinting into the morning sunshine. “I’m sorry to show up unannounced and I promise I won’t stay long, I just - do you know how long John’s going to be on leave? It’s not really any of my business and I suppose if he’d wanted me to know he would’ve told me but he left me a note and he told me to call him and I did but he didn’t pick up and now he hasn’t tried to call back - or, at least, no one’s told me that he has - so I was just wondering how long -”

“Finley,” Buck interrupted her, chuckling softly to himself under his breath. “He’ll call you back. I’m sure he’s just busy.”

“He probably doesn’t even want to talk to me,” Stella disagreed. She lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the sun, shifting on her feet. “Did he tell you what I did?”

Buck’s eyebrows furrowed. “What’d you do?”

“I ran away from him.”

“Why?”

“Because he was asking me personal questions.” Stella shook her head as though to clear it, lowered her hand from where it had been resting against her forehead and then raised it immediately right back up again when she found the sun just as strong as before. “Anyway -” Buck made to interrupt her but she kept on talking over him like she didn’t notice, “- do you know when he’s coming back? I just feel like I want to be prepared before I say something stupid.”

A short silence fell. There were only the sounds of airmen preparing for a mission, mechanics running around and ensuring each plane was ready. Behind Stella, Ken Lemmons was still fiddling around with the plane Buck was about to fly.

Buck was wearing a tiny, wry smile, silent as he simply stared at Stella in the wake of her babbling.

Stella raised her eyebrows at him, shuffling once more on her feet and resisting the urge to start tugging on her sleeves. She wasn’t sure why she felt so self-conscious - there was nothing in what she’d said that should be making him look at her like this.

“Tuesday,” he confessed at last, still with that same inexplicable smile. “He’s coming back Tuesday night.”

“Tuesday?” Stella asked. “That’s a long time to be on leave.” How long did one man possibly need to be in London by himself?

Buck shrugged. “He needed a break and he’s not needed around here until then.”

“He’s always needed around here,” Stella objected without thinking. When she heard her own words, however, she flushed so suddenly her cheeks were on fire. She clamped her mouth shut. “I mean, in the ops room,” she added hastily once she’d regained some semblance of composure.

Again, Buck chuckled under his breath. “Right,” he agreed. “But he needed a break, Fin. You ever taken one of those?”

“A break?” Now it was Stella’s turn to laugh. “No, never. As long as there are planes to ferry I’m staying here. I’d get antsy if I couldn’t fly - you saw how I was when I was in the infirmary.” She shook her head and batted the thought away. “Anyway, I’ll go now. Sorry for badgering you.”

Buck brushed her aside. “Ain’t no problem at all, Fin, you’re not badgering anyone.”

Stella smiled. Now she really was fiddling with her hands. She wasn’t sure how to tell him that she was grateful to have him as a friend - were they friends? - without coming on too strong, so all she could do was stare at him and smile.

“Have a good flight,” she offered after a beat, when she became conscious she had probably outstayed her welcome. “Come home safe and all that, okay? I’ll be lonely with you and John both gone.”

Buck rolled his eyes jovially and clapped her affectionately on the shoulder. “I’ll see you later, Fin. Take care of yourself when you’re out flying today, alright?”

“Alright,” Stella agreed. “You too, Buck.”

“Alright,” he answered her.

Stella gave him one final smile and a half-hearted, poorly executed salute before turning on her heel and heading back to the ATA hut from whence she’d come.

Tuesday. That was so far from now. She had no idea what she was supposed to spend her time doing until then. Waiting around for a return phone call, probably. How had he still not called? Had the receptionist even passed on the message? But she’d sounded so sincere over the phone. Surely he was just ignoring her. Or maybe he wasn’t even at the hotel - maybe he’d met a lovely, pretty, normal woman and was staying with her. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Stella was twiddling her thumbs, sitting around on the edge of the airfield, when the B-17s returned from their mission. She wasn’t sure why - John wasn’t with them - but she supposed it might be nice to keep Buck company now that Curt was gone and John was away in London. He was probably even lonelier than she was with his best friend on leave.

Sixteen planes returned of the twenty-four which had been sent out. Three of those had experienced mechanical failures and come back early. Thirteen had completed a successful mission.

Eight planes had gone down somewhere over Germany.

Buck’s plane was among them.

“Fuck,” Stella wept as she sat in one of the returned B-17s that night. “Fuck!” She had no idea why she was crying except that so many people she knew were gone. Curt and Buck among her new friends, basically all of the boys she’d gone to school with, four of her brothers. Four of her brothers. She was supposed to have eight and she had four.

“Fuck!”

Stella slammed her hands into the yoke until they stung and burned, until they hurt too much to bang anymore. Then she gripped it tightly and squeezed until her hands went numb, digging her nails in until they broke and bled.

She tipped her head back until it rested against the seat behind her, shut her eyes tight and let the tears flow freely.

So many men. So many boys. How many more? John was sure to end up going too. He always talked about how good of a pilot Buck was, how he was the best. If even the best could go down then what hope did the rest of them have?

The Battle of Britain was finished and yet airmen were still being shot out of the sky like clay pigeons. The Germans were hunting all of them for sport. An entire generation of young men would be wiped out before the war was out and maybe then Stella would finally get her wish of being sent out into combat. Who else would there be to fight this pitiful, godforsaken war?

Stella’s hands were shaking when she released the yoke and pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes. Her shoulders were heaving with every sob, with every gasping, wheezing breath she drew in. How many more times was she going to have to sit in the dark and cry for a man her age or only just above, taken too soon by some nameless Luftwaffe pilot in the name of patriotism and glory?

It was on weak, shaking legs that she started the trek back to her hut, still weeping, hugging her arms tight around herself less to ward off the chill of the night and more to ward off her demons. Her feet were dragging behind her, her shoulders slumped forward, her head shaking from side to side like she was trying to reprimand the world for doing this to her over and over again.

“Stels,” John said, pushing up off the wall to her hut when she first came into view.

She didn’t hear him, just kept sniffling and sobbing, her bottom lip clasped between her teeth and her eyes full with so many tears it was like she had an endless lake inside of her.

“Stels,” he said again, louder, when she got closer. “Stella.”

She looked up, startled, and hiccuped when her next sob never came.

Through the darkness he was formidable, big and looming, somehow casting a shadow behind him even in the absence of light.

He didn’t try to approach her, just stared back at her from where he was.

There was a long moment of silence. The two of them stared at each other.

Stella’s bottom lip wobbled and she hiccuped once more. When she couldn’t help but sniffle she hastily wiped at her nose with her sleeve and accused, “You never called me back.”

“I only got your message after -” He faltered.

“After you found out about Buck?” Stella deduced.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t even nod, but Stella knew she was correct by the way his gaze hardened.

“Did you meet a woman?” she asked. She got a sick sense of satisfaction from the way he averted his eyes.

So she’d been right. He’d been staying at someone else’s place.

“Was she pretty?”

“Stels -” Again, he faltered.

Stella scoffed a low laugh. “John, it’s fine. I’m not your girlfriend. You can fuck whoever you want.”

“Stels.” No faltering, just that one word, a full sentence. All the disapproval of a father in the hardness of the consonants.

“I’ve never had sex,” she said, sniffling, wiping at her nose. “Is it any good?”

She revelled in the way she’d clearly caught him off guard. John, never unnerved by her, always expecting the unexpected, had not expected that.

“I’m not drunk,” she said, just to fill the empty air. She didn’t know if he was imagining she was but she wanted him to know she wasn’t just in case. Wanted him to know she was behaving like this out of emptiness, not inebriation. “I only had a few beers and a couple of shots. Tipsy, maybe. But not drunk.” She took an ambling step closer to him. “Are you drunk?”

“No.”

“Are you sad?”

Silence.

“I’m so sad,” she said, and laughed at herself. It was a sad laugh, the twinkle of wind chimes in an old, abandoned house, and she hiccuped right after, just so she didn’t forget she’d just been weeping. “All the time. ‘Cause - ‘cause -” The dam broke. The sobs she’d been withholding came spilling right back out of her. She was powerless to stop them, a doorstop trying to keep out a pack of angry wolves.

Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, Stella curled in on herself and started past John, pushed past him when he stepped in front of the door and then headed briskly into her hut. She didn’t feel like talking to him anymore. Didn’t feel like crying in front of him anymore.

She collapsed on her bed, boots and all, and curled up in a ball, with Ralph, her childhood teddy bear, clutched to her chest. She muffled her crying into the top of his head, tried fruitlessly to breathe in the smell of home which had long since faded away.

John sat on the bed beside hers. Alice’s bed. She didn’t turn to look but she could sense his presence. If she wasn’t crying and if she listened hard enough she thought she’d probably be able to hear him breathe.

He didn’t say anything while she cried. He didn’t even try to touch her. Maybe he feared she’d try to flee again if he did. She was so flighty, so delicate, unpredictable and liable to combust at any given moment.

She wouldn’t have fled. If he’d tried to touch her. She might have cried harder but she also might have cried softer. Had anyone ever tried to comfort her when she cried? No one ever seemed to know what to do with her.

“I’m sorry about Buck,” she managed to choke out when her tears started to slow. “I - I went to see him earlier and - and -”

“Shh,” John said simply. Finally, tentatively, he laid a hand on the centre of her back.

He had such big hands. Just one hand was on her and yet she was sure she could feel its warmth in her entire body.

She curled into it, pushed her spine back against it.

He started to rub it slowly up and down.

“My brothers -”

“I know, Stels.”

“Four of them.”

He drew in a deep breath. “‘M sorry.”

“Everyone keeps -”

“I know.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

John didn’t say anything. What was there for him to say? He didn’t know what to do either.

[chaoticm0therfvcker]

Arrogant Whelp (CRK modern AU)

Tags: modern au, purecacao fluff and angst, my oc, clotted cream being a dick, lots of swearing, my oc beats up clotted cream but there isn’t a ton of gore

Summary: a modern take on the big reveal from cookie odyssey, taking place in Caffeines bar.

It was just after sundown, and Dark Cacao, Hollyberry, and Pure Vanilla were hanging out in Caffeine’s bar, Night and Day Cafe. It was a coffee shop by day, and a bar at night, and the three found themselves there often. Cacao would often get himself a coffee before work and pick up a tea for Vanilla, and Hollyberry had spent countless nights there drinking “berry juice” and talking with Caffeine about their current adventures. Unfortunately, despite being close friends, it had been forever since they had been able to hang out together just the three of them. They would have invited White Lily and Golden Cheese as well, but Lily was still recovering from her several year long coma and Golden decided that with a little kid in the house, it would be best that they do something during the day so she could introduce the gang to Fettuccine. So here they were, Hollyberry having her usual drink while Dark Cacao and Pure Vanilla treated themselves to cocktails they didn’t drink very often. They were chatting, catching up on major life events, joking around about the relationship between Crunchy Chip and Wildberry, and even getting Caffeine involved in the conversation whenever the topic switched to travel plans or some sort of crazy event they felt she would be interested in. And of course, Cacao and Vanilla teasing her slightly whenever she got flustered from Hollyberry’s responses.

Then, as any lovely outing among friends would face, it was ruined by a rather arrogant eavesdropper, more specifically, a regular at Night and Day that Caffeine did not get good vibes from.

His name was Clotted Cream.

“Well, hello there,” he started, glancing at the three from across the bar while swirling his drink, “fancy seeing you here.”

Dark Cacao stifled a groan. He knew Clotted Cream, as well as just how annoying he was. He would constantly try to get between Vanilla and Cacao, making comments on their parenting skills, trying to reveal lies (even though they were almost always just surprise anniversary gifts), and even outing Vanilla as bisexual to Dark Cacao, as if he didn’t already know that. He was constantly trying to get between them, get under their skin, do whatever he could to trigger any sort of drama for his own personal entertainment. He didn’t even have a crush on one of them, although he did try fake confessing to Pure Vanilla a few times. He just enjoyed the drama, and seemed so defeated every time his stupid tactics didn’t work. It was pathetic, really, and even Caffeine had jumped in and shut him up a few times. However, this time he took it too far.

“What do you want, Clotted?” Pure Vanilla asked, “my husband knows I’m bisexual, he knows I don’t love you, he knows that Dark Choco’s angsty teenager phase took a really dark turn, and we both know that we have surprise anniversary gifts for each other that we would like to stay a surprise.”

“It’s almost funny how desperate you are to cause problems between them,” Hollyberry chimed in, “I mean, it’s pathetic, but it’s practically turned into a game where we make bets to see what bullshit you’re going to be trying this time.”

“Oh, I know my last few plans were a bit… unsound, but this time, I actually have no intention of hurting you, just… warning you of something I feel you deserve to know.” He turned to Caffeine, “Does she have to stay here? This is really something that should only be shared among friends.”

“I can stay,” Caffeine replied, “I mean, they come here often enough that I view them as friends, and they include me in their conversations enough, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind me listening in. But that’s up to them.”

“She can stay.” Dark Cacao grumbled through gritted teeth, “what are you ‘warning us of’ this time?”

Clotted Cream smirked. “I’m so glad you’re willing to hear me out, because it’s regarding some people rather… close to you. You know that gang that your eldest was part of? The cookies of darkness?”

“Of course,” Pure Vanilla replied, “but he left months ago! We’ve since been reunited and have been living very nicely together, thank you very much.”

“That’s not the point, but I’m glad you know who I am talking about.” Clotted glanced at Dark Cacao, “Although, you wouldn’t happen to know who runs that whole operation, would you?”

“It was Red Velvet’s mother, whoever that is.” Pure Vanilla replied.

“I wasn’t talking to you, Vanilla.” Clotted snapped, “Dark Cacao, you wouldn’t happen to know the true identity of Red Velvet’s mother, would you?”

“No, I don’t, none of us do,” Cacao replied, glancing around at his friends, “we have a detective looking into it, but as of now we don’t know much.”

Clotted Cream snickered. “Well, what if I were to tell you that I know who it is? As well as the fact that one of your dear ‘friends’ here knows the truth as well?”

“What are you getting at?” Cacao grumbled.

“What I’m getting at, is that the person behind the whole operation, Red Velvet’s mother, the one who took your eldest son away from you and turned him into a monster, is none other than White Lily, also known as Dark Enchantress!” He announced.

Tears started to well in Pure Vanilla’s eyes. “No…” he whimpered, “no, no, no…”

“And, if that wasn’t already enough of a betrayal,” Clotted Cream added, “your darling husband here, Pure Vanilla, has known the truth all along and has been lying to you for months! I’m sure if you ask him he’ll make some excuse that he ‘didn’t wanna hurt your feelings’ but no matter what excuses he makes to try and defend himself, he’s still the monster that just wants to defend his childhood best friend.”

At the sight of Pure Vanilla’s now sobbing state, Dark Cacao saw red, and he attempted to lunge at Clotted Cream.

Seeing Dark Cacao ready to attack, Hollyberry wrapped her arms around him from behind, restraining him before he could do any damage to himself or Clotted Cream.

“Let go of me!” He bellowed, clawing at the air and trying to fight out of Hollyberry’s grasp, “I will end that arrogant whelp!”

“Dark Cacao, come to your senses! This won’t help anything!” Hollyberry replied, tightening her grip.

To Clotted Creams demise, while Dark Cacao was restrained, Caffeine was not, and she took this as the perfect opportunity to punch him square in the nose, causing him to fall out of his chair and slide across the floor quite a bit. Exiting her station behind the counter, she stomped over to Clotted Cream and stepped on his chest, firmly holding him in place.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” She yelled, “all they’re trying to do is have a nice family outing, and you have to come and ruin it all, like the pathetic little dipshit that you are! The White Lily that you claim is Dark Enchantress has been in a coma for years! And even if it was true that Pure Vanilla knew all this and didn’t tell anyone about it, has it ever occurred to you that maybe he’s still grieving the loss of his friend? That maybe the reason he hasn’t told anyone is because he’s still processing it and doesn’t know how to properly say it? No matter what the goddamn situation is, that gives you no right to barge in here like some hotshot celebrity and ruin everyone’s night! That was personal information that you just revealed, and if you know as much about this as you’re letting on, I could easily call the police and claim that you’re withholding evidence! Wouldn’t that just be fucking wonderful for everyone, you behind bars being interrogated while everyone just goes on their merry way and enjoys their peaceful lives!”

“I’m sorry!” Clotted yelled back, putting his hands up in mock surrender, “I just thought they deserved to know before the real villain of this story ruins everyone’s night for real!”

Caffeine chuckled darkly. “Oh, it’s too late for bullshit apologies. You’re the villain in this story, not White Lily. Now get the hell out, and never. Come. Back.”

Caffeine released him from underneath her boot, and he was quick to run out of the bar. She then turned to her friends, who were now sitting quietly.

Hollyberry had let go of Dark Cacao, who was now sitting in his chair, trying to contain his anger while Pure Vanilla quietly sobbed into Cacao’s shoulder. Caffeine returned behind the counter.

“I’m really sorry about that guys,” she apologized, “I should’ve banned him a long time ago, you guys didn’t deserve to have to deal with that.”

“It’s okay, Caff, Hollyberry replied, “trust me, it was bound to happen eventually. I’m just glad it happened here where you’re the only one who witnessed it. You could’ve lightened up on the aggression though.”

“Well, he needed to be put in his place.” Caffeine then turned to Pure Vanilla, “Are you okay? Was any of that stuff he said true? You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re uncomfortable.”

Vanilla sniffled and nodded. “I’m okay, and what he said was true- sort of. After Almond started looking into the case, I started doing my own research as well. From what I’ve gathered, White Lily and Dark Enchantress are sisters, and while White Lily was in a coma, Dark Enchantress stole her identity to try and stay hidden from the police. I’ve given what information I gathered to Almond, though it’s not much. I’m sorry for not telling you guys, I just didn’t know how to.”

Neither of them replied, and Dark Cacao started to get up from his chair to leave.

“Wait, where are you going?” Vanilla asked, “I promise you, I never intended to hurt you, and I wanted to tell you everything!”

Cacao smiled weakly and pressed a soft kiss to Vanilla’s lips. “You did nothing wrong, love. I know you would never hurt any of us, I just need to cool off right now. I’ll see you at home.”

Dark Cacao walked out, and after a couple of minutes, Pure Vanilla left as well, leaving some cash on the counter to pay their tab. Only Hollyberry and Caffeine were left now.

“Do you want a refill?” Caffeine asked.

Hollyberry handed Caffeine her glass and nodded. “Yes please.”

“Coming right up.”

Taglist: @janayuga @c00kietin @katsunemillennium @trustymikh

[sigmxnd]

okay im very nosy and i wanna know the lore :d

there were lotsa questions so i picked some i thought looked fun from that one rb !!

and if any of these don't interest u or dont apply u can skip em :33

---

Who does your OC love? (platonic) :3

Who does your OC love? (familial)

Does your OC love anyone? (romantic)

What is the worst thing your OC does in their story?

Is there a canon character that your OC needs to ask forgiveness towards?

Is there a canon character your OC needs to forgive?

Is there anyone who your OC would die for, or a canon character who would die for your OC?

Which canon character does your OC not respect at all? Why?

Who would your OC most likely to get a puppy-crush on? (but it can't be the cc they're actually shipped with!)

Who has your OC made cry?

Is there someone your OC didn't like at first, but then got along with later?

Which canon character doesn't respect your OC whatsoever?

Which canon character does your OC respect a lot?

---

(if i missed any u wanted to answer u can throw those in i wont tell :3)

the first 3 i answered for all of them here :3

worst thing done in their story?

Sleepy - (first one wasn't alwayd her doing [one was an accident], but she's made herself think it was/was convinced for a long time that it was) tie between murder and marrying a highly dangerous individual

Sigmund - got with Duncan

Leo - gotten into physical fights (he's won every one though)

Aaron - extreme eavesdropper. he gossips so much. #1 drama spreader

Pebble - got with gnarly

Malcom - gay and won't admit it (/j he's just a bully 💀💀 probably a step higher than vic but still not as bad as henry or patrick)

~

canon character that someone needs to beg for forgiveness towards?

Sleepy - not anyone alive, she'd have to have an emotional moment or 5 through her dreams

Sigmund - not that he can remember

Leo - he apologizes to everyone immediately even if he hardly did anything, so probably not (except for the people in the aforementioned fights lmao)

Aaron - probably, but he's not going to

Pebble - the smiling friends, but it's not his fault that his boyfriend and his boyfriends boyfriend are like that

Malcom - most definitely, but he's not going to

~

canon character someone needs to forgive?

Sleepy - no, cause she's forgiven nearly everyone if they didn't do something really bad to her, and her ass is NOT gonna forgive demons

Sigmund - not needs to, there's no one he's required to forgive

Leo - see above

Aaron - see above

Pebble - i don't think so

Malcom - yes, but it's complicated

~

would anyone die for them? would they die for anyone?

Sleepy - yes, her wife + family, and yes, everyone she cares about

Sigmund - maybe (it depends on what the death is) and yes, friends

Leo - yes, everyone he cares about, and yes, same answer

Aaron - yes, friends, and depends on who it its

Malcom - probably (he can't say for sure), and yes, his boyfriends

~

canon character someone does not respect?

Sleepy - too many to list, for too many reasons

Sigmund - chris mcclean, self explanatory

Leo - chris mcclean

Aaron - chris mcclean and most of the roti cast (they piss him off)

Pebble - he won't say it to his face, but grim. just a little bit

Malcom - the entirety of the losers and butch bowers, you get the idea

~

anyone they're likely to get a puppy-crush on?

Sleepy - avril lavigne. yes she exists in her universe

Sigmund - shawn, he'd ask him SO many questions and listen with all the attention he could muster

Leo - jasmine, idk i just think he'd find her really cool lmao

Aaron - he's always wanted to meet izzy. study her mind and all that

Pebble - probably charlie, he strives to be that chill

Malcom - idk. if he was sane in the modern day then probably kesha

~

who has made them cry?

Sleepy - a lot of people 💀💀

Sigmund - chris mcclean, probably heather, probably duncan too

Leo - chris mcclean, probably also heather

Aaron - chris mcclean. besides that nobody has good enough insults or mental torture that challenges the weight that chris has

Pebble - also a lot of people 💀💀

Malcom - his boyfriends. he won't tell anyone about it though

~

anyone they didn't like at first, but liked later?

Sleepy - ivy (ppgz), though it wasn't necessarily her, it was the association between her body and the demon that possessed her

Sigmund - noah. he didn't like his sassy quips at first, but eventually he found them funny

Leo - nobody really, he kinda liked everyone immediately (except for heather)

Aaron - scott lmao

Pebble - no one, he was just kinda indifferent about everybody?

Malcom - henry mostly, but he was hostile towards everyone

~

who doesn't respect them under any circumstances?

Sleepy - sarah is OUT for her 😭😭

Sigmund - heather and probably a few others

Leo - heather

Aaron - anne maria

Pebble - grim, but he pretends to because of gnarly

Malcom - the losers

~

who do they respect a lot?

Sleepy - her younger sister Sigmund (yes it gets confusing), and Pebble. "they're tougher than they look" (a quote from her)

Sigmund - Aaron. "he can take a punch, but damn can he swing on someone too"

Leo - Sleepy. "she's reserved, but very calm and protective"

Aaron - Sleepy. "i dunno she's cool. like the second mom i never had"

Pebble - Sleepy. "we share a lot more in common than i thought. and not to brag or anything, but she said i'm her favorite :]" (he did not actually say "colon bracket" for that)

Malcom - Sleepy. "she's big and scary. i mean not to me, but to a dumb [flag] definitely. we could use her on our side, if she wasn't, y'know, a girl" (he asked to be censored)

~

(my choices time :3) does anyone say someone is their best friend? who would they call their best friend?

Sleepy - she'd say Ornery and Sentra (and their respective canon hosts) are her longest standing (alive) best friends, and they'd probably say the same for her. also her WIFE💍😝✨️💥💥

Sigmund - Leo, Aaron, Cinn, Zeke, Mike, and Pebble are his best friends, and they'd all say the same (he leaves out duncan and scott on purpose to be an ass lmao)

Leo - Sigmund, Aaron, Cinn, Zeke, Mike, Duncan, Scott, Pebble, and Sleepy (he would include Malcom, but he's never been able to get close to him. both in an emotional and literal sense)

Aaron - Sigmund, Leo, Cinn, Zeke, Mike, Duncan, Pebble, and Sleepy (he leaves out scott for the same reason as sig)

Pebble - Sigmund, Leo, Aaron, Gnarly, Sleepy, and Malcom (everyone cannot figure out why pebble is the only one who can get close enough to him [its because they share some experiences and pebble is probably the best with feelings out of all of them])

Malcom - he doesn't HAVE "best friends." what is he, a child (but he would consider pebble to be the least threatening out of all of them, so it's kind of a friend thing? friends and friend feelings are hard for him)

~

which canon character is pissed off by the general presence of them?

Sleepy - too many people 💀💀

Sigmund - heather

Leo - heather

Aaron - anne maria

Pebble - mr. boss, funny enough (pebble is unaware of this)

Malcom - any authority figure

~

how do the partners feel about each oc? how do the others feel about each others partner? (YIPPEE I GET TO LIST THEIR BOYFRIEND/WIFE'S OPINIONS)

Sleepy - "duncan is annoying at best, at worst i don't wanna know. ezekiel is nice, he says hi when he sees me and stuff, seems like a sweet guy. treats leo as good as the guy treats him. scott is somehow more annoying than duncan. gnarly i was wary of, but he's good with peb, so he's fine to me. he leaves me alone most of the time, which i appreciate. and, uh.. malcom has more than one partner? i've seen one, and he was fine i guess, but apparently there's more. cass says they're a fucking pain, so that's about all i have to go off of."

Sigmund - "i haven't seen much of cassandra, but she seems to be on the same level as sleepy. just kinda chill, doesn't give fucks or take shits. ezekiel is about the best guy in the world, just a little.. what's the word. misguided, sometimes. but i've known him for a while, so maybe i'm biased. scott can be a little shit, but he's more manageable when aaron's with him. gnarly i've hardly ever seen, but he kinda looks like the reddit freaks they tell you to look out for in high school, or they'll like, hate crime you. pebble says he's okay though, so i trust him. i've seen one glimpse of malcom's partners, and they looked WILD, but i guess when you come right out the 80's to the 2020's, you kinda get your shit rocked. i didn't talk to eli, but i liked his jewelry. they're bullies, right? awesome, i hope they make duncan shave that goddamn unibrow. or maybe they'll do it for him, that'll be even better."

Leo - "cassandra i've seen a few times, very intimidating at first, definitely has a dark past. but she's nice to us, which i like. duncan i'm used to by now, even if he can be kinda annoying sometimes. he seems to be more chill when he's with all of us combined. scott hasn't been much of a pain to me specifically, but he targets sig a lot, and has lots of banter with aaron, and i try not to laugh at every horrible insult they throw back and forth at each other. gnarly looks like he'd ask me if i want some crack out of his trenchcoat, which would make me uncomfortable, if he wasn't a giant dweeb. in a positive way. i've only ever seen one one of malcom's partners one time, and it was the same day we found out he'd showed up. eli, i think his name is? didn't talk to him, but he seemed about the same as malcom, whatever that is. i know there's a group, but from what i heard, i'm okay with not meeting the rest."

Aaron - "cassandra's cool, she recommends music to me. duncan is like my boyfriend, which can piss me off sometimes. zeke is cool, he got me my earbuds for my birthday. gnarly looks like he'd call me a slur, but pebble says he's nice. i dunno, i'd have to wait and see if that's true. malcom's partners have never come out of their room, except for one, but i hardly percieved him. i don't think the rest are real, with how much malcom hides them, and how ridiculous they sound."

Pebble - "cassandra is super nice, she and sleepy helped me get settled in on my first day of getting into the space. her and sleepy have a lot of history together, and it shows. duncan used to pick on me, but he doesn't anymore, so he's okay. ezekiel is so incredibly sweet, him and leo are perfect for each other. scott also picks on me, and he's stopped doing it as much, but it still happens sometimes. he's like a 4/10 in my mind. i think i'm the only one that's actually seen malcom's other partners? two of them, at least. i met him at the door that connects our rooms one time, and two of them locked eyes with me. it was kinda creepy. malcom tells me stuff about them when nobody's paying attention, and they're very on and off. usually on with him, though. overall more 5/10, since i haven't had any firsthand experiences with them. but malcom says he doesn't want me to have any."

Malcom - "i don't care about their stupid boyfriends. and i wish they would stop saying the gang are my "partners," i'm not gay. the weird blue one is the only one that gets that."

~

Cassandra - "i can hardly stand any of them, except for ezekiel."

Duncan - "cassandra scares me, but you better not tell anyone i said that. zeke is okay i guess, but i couldn't have guessed he was a gay until leo came around. i don't care if that was a long time ago, it still surprises me. scott is pretty funny. gnarly is fucking awesome, i don't know how people can't like him. the gay little gang of weirdos threatened me once, and i would've taken them easily, but cassandra threatened to beat the shit out of all of us, so nothing happened. they do not take her seriously at all, and it's hysterical to watch. i can't laugh though, but it's whatever."

Ezekiel - "cassandra is real nice, eh. she always lets me leave the room before she gets all loud and scary. duncan and scott are just okay, i don't talk to them much. gnarly gives me weird looks, but i try to ignore them. that little group is straight up freaky though, they told me they'd skin the "giant rat on my head" if i didn't leave them alone. i didn't even have rats on my head when they said that! and i do leave them alone, eh! but they still come around and pull wicked knives on me! not cool."

Scott - "everyone in there is either annoying, bearable, or cassandra. she's creepy, not just when she gets obnoxiously loud. she told me she wished she had her "precious metal babe" with her sometimes, and i've spent enough time with pappy to know what she means by that. the traveling circus of knife wielders fits into the annoying category, i just don't show my shark tooth to them in case they try and steal it. i could take 'em, easy."

Gnarly - "the guys are okay, cassandra is whatever. those little boys are nails on a fuckin' chalkboard, though."

Henry - "i don't give a shit about those stupid [flaggots]." (he was censored against his will)

Patrick said the same thing as Henry.

Victor didn't respond.

"Belch" - "i'unno, whatever henry said."

[jury's still out for Eli]

[nocturnalzhagreus]

[Eavesdropper]

"The celebration party is almost perfect. The decorations, the atmosphere, the music, the musicians..... ah, that violinist seems to be a bit bothered, isnt he? Whatever, his face is always bitter like that from the start...

......Is he staring at Monsieur M?"

A comic practice with a small hc i made for my friend's oc.

Jameson Heelshire belongs to @im-bored-so-i-draw

Extra dino style art !! :>

[thylacine001]

more fallout new vegas ocs. i’m normal. i’m normal i’m n

left: Diane, a bartender/server at the Ultra Luxe. She had her arm and leg blown off by powder gangers in her prospecting days, but was rescued by a caravan guarded by a particular ghoul who helped fashion her a makeshift prosthetic until she could find proper ones. She tried to stay in touch with the ghoul, but couldn’t find her after she was dropped off. She garnered quite a reputation on the strip, and was invited into the White Glove Society by Marjorie, who thought she was peculiar. Shes very sneaky and a great eavesdropper, but tends to get caught a lot, which got her blackmailed into working with Mortimer. She isn’t a cannibal, but plans to serve people at the Gourmand human meat under his guidance. She has only come into minimal contact with any of the other ocs, except for Roja. She knows of Vesta’s existence though, she’s very aware of his bullshit.

right: the character from the post i made a while ago! Kingsley, who works for the followers of the apocalypse. Before the war, he was famous author Henry Kingsley, who wrote sci-fi novels. He was known for being quite vain and particular about his books. He was at a signing the day the bombs dropped, and for years was obsessed with scavenging the wasteland for copies of his books to try to regain some semblance of fame. Staying alive for that many years though has gained him quite a few skills. He’s surprisingly strong, despite looking pretty meek. (high str high int low end) and has a lot of scientific and medical knowledge he picked up. He eventually joined the followers as a surgeon, but mostly just cuts peoples limbs off and gives them med x, it’s a rough job, but it makes him happy. He’s had direct contact with all 3 of my other new vegas ocs, aiding Diane, and being a close acquaintance of Vesta and Roja.

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 238. brb x oc

a/n: just get ready yall. just get ready (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

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/210/211/212/213/214/215/216/217/218/219/220/221/222/223/224

/225/226/227/228/229/230/231/232/233/234/235/236/237

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

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-

The evening sun cast a warm, golden hue over the park as Rooster, Beatrice, and their girls enjoyed a leisurely stroll. The sounds of children's laughter and the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze created a serene backdrop for their family outing. 

But beneath the surface of their idyllic family moment lingered a sense of unease. Rooster couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that had come over him during his conversation with Mark. His questions had been too probing, his curiosity too invasive, and it left Rooster with a nagging sense of discomfort.

As they reached a bench that was close enough to the playground so Bianca could run around, Rooster paused and gazed out at the grass, his mind still preoccupied with the encounter. Beatrice noticed the furrow in his brow and the distant look in his eyes, and she couldn't help but worry.

"Roos," she began gently, "is everything okay? You seemed a bit... tense earlier."

Rooster turned to her, his eyes filled with concern. He wanted to protect her from unnecessary worry, "Just thinking about the conversation with Mark," he admitted, choosing his words carefully. "He asked some questions about you and your work, and it made me uncomfortable."

Beatrice furrowed her brow, “I mean,did he ask something else besides what you told me?”

Rooster hesitated for a moment, deciding how much to share. He trusted Beatrice implicitly, but he also wanted to spare her any unnecessary stress. "No,it felt... invasive, you know?"

Beatrice nodded in understanding, her expression thoughtful. She sits down on the bench with Nicole on her lap while Éowyn was busy holding Rooster’s hand as they watch her older sister climb a tree "I see," she said, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "Well, Miranda was…kinda invasive too.”

“Yeah?”

She shrugs, hugging Nicole to her chest, “Asking stuff about us, even mentioning about a little ‘get-together’ she wants me to go. She says it’s because she’s trying to know as many military wives as she can but…I don’t know,I don’t trust her.”

Rooster furrowed his brow, concern deepening as he processed Beatrice's words. The fact that both Mark and Miranda had been intrusive about their lives raised more red flags for him. "That's strange," he mused, his voice lowered to avoid being overheard. "I don't like the sound of that at all."

Beatrice nodded in agreement, her worry mirrored in her husband's eyes. "Exactly," she replied. "It feels like they're prying into our lives, and I can't help but wonder why."

Rooster took a deep breath, his protective instincts kicking in. "We should be cautious," he said, his gaze scanning their surroundings as if expecting eavesdroppers. "I don't want them getting too involved in our business."

Beatrice nodded in agreement, her maternal instincts aligning with his protective stance. "You're right, Roos," she said, her voice determined. "We need to set boundaries and be careful about what we share with them."

"I'll keep an eye on things," Rooster promised, his tone resolute. "And if they continue to push boundaries, we might have to distance ourselves even more.”

“It just feels like they…show up out of nowhere.” she whispers, “I don’t know,Roos. Is Mark…different? I mean, you mentioned him wanting to talk to Mav but like, was he acting even weirder then?”

Rooster leaned in closer, keeping his voice low as they discussed Mark's behavior. "Yeah, babe," he replied, "he was acting a bit strange when he wanted to talk to Mav. He kept mentioning how much of a legend Mav was and seemed almost too eager to connect with him."

Beatrice furrowed her brow, her concern deepening. "That does sound strange," she admitted. "And you said he knew about you before you even found out about him?"

Rooster nodded. "Yeah, he seemed to have some information about me, which I found odd. It's as if he had done his homework before we even met."

"That's definitely unsettling.” she pauses, “...could they just be socially awkward?”

Rooster turned his head towards Beatrice’s, giving his wife a sweet smile, “It’d be nice if we both didn’t feel how weird this whole situation is.” he says, leaning back on the bench and arching his brows,” But eh, it’s fine,gorgeous. We’ll be alright. Let’s focus on other things,hm?”

Beatrice, while smiling, still had a bit of fear clinging to her spine, “Yeah, you are right.” and leans down to kiss Nicole’s head, their daughter napping against her chest because she had a very good dinner.  “I just think it’s weird, is all,Roos.”

“I know.”

“And I don’t want to get too in my head.”

“I know,gorgeous.” and he leans down to kiss her shoulder, “Relax, it’ll be okay.” would it? Maybe he should message Mav in any case. But not now. “How about we go to Mr.Scoops?” he said it quietly, he suggested it to Beatrice but Bianca, who wasn’t too far away, snapped her head in their direction with her eyes widening.

“YES!” she shrieks, startling a few other passerby’s with her voice, the very mention of the ice cream place was always…special, “YES!LET’S GO!”

“Bibi,” Beatrice says as their nieces comes running, sneakers unlaced and hair a mess, “Don’t scream like that, there’s no need to.”

Bianca quickly slowed down, her excitement still bubbling but tempered by her aunt's admonishment. "Sorry, Auntie Bea," she replied with her legs still bouncing up and down. "I just really love ice cream."

 "I know you do, sweetheart. We all do."

Rooster joined in with a playful grin. "And Mr. Scoops has the best ice cream in town. What flavor are you thinking of, Bianca?"

Bianca's eyes sparkled with anticipation as she considered her options. "Hmm, maybe strawberry today. Or cookies and cream. Ooh, or maybe both!" she gasps, eyes staring at nothing, “Maybe all of them.”

“Alright,alright no,” Beatrice holds up a finger, ‘No, three is the max we’ll get, no all of them,Bibi, you can’t even eat that much.”

“...yes I can.”

“No.”

Rooster chuckled adjusting Éowyn on his lap before looking at Bea, “If we go now we might get the college kids instead of the families.” he says, knowing the last time they went there they had to wait so long he felt like he aged five years on that line, “What do you think?”

Beatrice considered Rooster's suggestion, weighing the pros and cons of going to Mr. Scoops at this particular time. She knew that going later would likely mean longer lines and more families with children, but going now might mean dealing with a crowd of college students.

"You're right," she conceded with a nod. "Going now might be a better idea. We can beat the rush and hopefully have a more peaceful ice cream experience."

Rooster smiled in agreement. "Sounds like a plan. Let's get going then."

Bianca, who had been eagerly awaiting their decision, practically jumped with excitement. "Yay! Ice cream time!"

–

With everyone asleep now, they had a great dinner and an even better dessert, Rooster was back in his office, hand on his chin, mouse scrolling through his emails and eyes narrowed. He still had…something in his head was itching, it was itching and it was telling him to just check. 

He wondered if any of the guys talked to Mark or was he the only one?

“Roos?” her soft voice makes him look at the door, to where Beatrice held two mugs with some of the ice cream they brought home. In reality they didn’t have any while at the ice cream shop, deciding that the girls should have it instead, “I brought you some, belgian chocolate.”

Rooster's gaze softened as he saw Beatrice standing in the doorway, holding the two mugs with that precious grin on her face. He pushed back his chair and leaned back, holding a hand to grab the mug when she gets closer."You're the best, babe," he said, pressing a loving kiss to her forehead.

Beatrice smiled,sitting down on the extra chair in his office, tucking her legs under her bottom. "Well, I thought you could use a little break," she replied. "And what better way to unwind than with some delicious ice cream?"

Rooster nodded in agreement and took a spoonful of the ice cream, savoring the rich and creamy flavor. "You always know how to make everything better," he said, his eyes closing happily, “This is still so good. Fuck.”

"That's my job, isn't it? To make sure you're happy and taken care of."

“Funny,thought that was my job.” he smirks with a wink, “Honestly,thanks babe. Are the girls asleep?”

Beatrice chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with affection. "It's a team effort, Roos," she said, savoring her own spoonful of ice cream before nodding. "Yes, out like a light. It's been a long day for them." she licks her lips, tapping the edge of her mug as she watches her husband swivel his chair from left to right, “What are you doing?”

"Just going through some emails," he replied, setting the spoon aside and turning his attention back to his computer screen. "I couldn't help but think about our conversation with Mark and Miranda earlier."

Beatrice tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. "Is everything okay, Roos?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

Rooster sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. He knew he couldn't keep it to himself. "It's just... something about Mark and Miranda doesn't sit right with me," he admitted, his brow furrowing. "They were asking a lot of personal questions. And…”

Beatrice's expression shifted to one of mild surprise, her mind quickly processing the information. "I did notice that too," she said slowly. "But I thought maybe they were just trying to get to know us better."

Rooster nodded, acknowledging her point. "Yeah, that's what I thought at first. But the way Mark was asking about your job, it felt... invasive. And then he brought up the bar and..."

Beatrice's eyes narrowed slightly, her intuition kicking in. "And what?"

Rooster hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "He seemed to imply that I should have some say in what you do. Like, he was surprised that I allowed you to work there." he snorts “Allowed, like i fucking own you or something.”

“Is that what's been bothering you?” she asks, then finishes her sentence, “The most?”

Rooster ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "Yeah, it's been gnawing at me, Bea," he admitted. "I don't like the idea of someone assuming they have a say in your choices. You're your own person, and you make your own decisions. I would never try to control or limit you."

Beatrice's eyes softened.She reached out to gently place her hand on Rooster's, offering a reassuring squeeze. "I appreciate that, Roos," she said sincerely. "You've always been supportive of me, and I've never felt pressured to make decisions based on anyone else's expectations."

Rooster smiled, relieved that Beatrice understood his concerns. "I just wanted to make sure we're on the same page, babe," he said. "I love you for who you are, and I wouldn't change a thing about you."

Oh he was going to make her cry.

Beatrice leaned in, pressing a sweet and tender kiss to Rooster's lips. It was a silent affirmation of their love and understanding, a reassurance that they were a team and would always have each other's backs.

"Thank you for being my rock, Roos," Beatrice whispered against his lips.

"You're my everything, Bea," Rooster replied, “You know that.”

They stayed like that for a moment, their connection deepening as they basked in the comfort of each other's presence. The world outside seemed to fade away as they focused on the love and trust that bound them together.

Eventually, Beatrice pulled back slightly, her gaze fixed on Rooster's. "So, what do we do about Mark and Miranda?" she asked, her brow furrowing in thought.

Rooster contemplated the question for a moment before responding. "What we planned, ignore them, set some boundaries," he said. "Let them know that there are certain topics that are off-limits….maybe tell them to fuck off.”

“Rooster.”

“What? I’d love to do that.”

Beatrice frowns a bit, chewing her lower lip, “Let’s just make sure that it's essential to maintain our privacy and protect our relationship. And especially the kids."

“Or…” he purses his lips, “They can fuck off.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes, then stands up to her feet to hug him. He remains seated, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her covered stomach, “Don’t let it get to you,Roos,” she says, cupping his face and tilting his head up, “Please?”

Rooster sighed, his features softening as he gazed into Beatrice's eyes. He knew she was right, as always, and he couldn't let his frustration with Mark and Miranda affect him so much…he just…worries.

"You're absolutely right, babe," he said, "I won't let it get to me.”

She holds up her pinky, “Promise?”

He smirks, hooking his finger with hers, “Promise.”

Beatrice smiled, her heart swelling with love for her husband. "That's why I married you," she said, leaning in to kiss him gently. "You're so strong and protective, but you always listen to reason."

“Most of the time.”

She giggles against his mouth, ‘You do have your moments.”

Rooster chuckled, nuzzling her affectionately. "I learned from the best," he said, his eyes filled with adoration. She smiles down at him,cupping his cheek and kissing his lips one more time, “We should go to bed,huh?”

“We should.” she holds out her hand “Or we can watch some Peaky Blinders while the girls are asleep and have more ice cream.”

“Oh,I like that idea.” he smiles, “Why don’t you go to the living room? I’ll finish it up here.” he kisses her knuckles and waits until she’s out of the office to turn his chair back to the screen. His brows lower and he immediately types something quick, quick enough that Beatrice wouldn’t suspect anything.

There is a group of people who could easily find out more about this whole thing, because they are worse than high schoolers when it comes to gossip. He clicks send on the Dagger Squad group chat and then turns the pc off, walking away from his office after turning off the light.

[outeremissary]

I'm so tempted to ask for Kassander on the problematic OC ask in the way one would open pandora's box.

Anon I am going to assume that this ask making it to my inbox represents caving to the desire for Kas Cringe Compilation. A desire I can certainly satisfy with a problematic paladin.

the long history of murder

cringe taste

can and has been manipulated into murder

necromancy is unproblematic if it's for therapy

Oath Broken

atheist in FR

cooking so bad it could be a crime

kidnapped a baby

spiritually a Shadow the Hedgehog fan

looks like a Shadow the Hedgehog gijinka

by choice

look up at point 2 again

petty

chronic liar

chronic oversharer

the worst trauma dumping you've ever heard

terrible at putting their foot down when someone they care about is Doing Some Shit

identity theft

identity theft of a murder victim (their own)

public kink scene incident

past cannibalism

Just Keeps Leading People On

not entirely unaware that they're leading people on. it's maybe kind of sort of sometimes on purpose.

notable Kasander heartbreak victims: Wyll Ravengard, Lae'zel of K'liir

fed an infant illithid instead of killing it and then let it leave

Oath Broken

sex neutral asexual (context: I am posting on Tumblr)

anyway here's Wonderwall

still kinda likes the taste of blood

tadpole eater

did hire the siblings at the same time once

whatever mutual loss of character development they had with Astarion that one time

nosy

gossip

Bhaalspawn

eavesdropper

they may not have fucked that squid but getting to the point where it was on the table really feels like a sign of doing something seriously wrong with your life

worst ex in the world.

past complicity in ex's crimes

licked a corpse that one time

Really Good at Persuasion based solutions to boss encounters in Act 2 iykyk

the usual DUrge Problems

Everyone Deserves A Second Chance :)

Everyone.

(lingering suspicion this is About Them)

imperfect abuse victim

problematically violent depiction of mental illness

7000 vampires

Oath Broken

So there you are. A wildly incomplete list. I feel like I'm going to think of like five extra things as soon as I post this. That's the Kasander difference. Heart.

[prompt]

[enigmaticexplorer]

I Yearn, and so I Fear - A Muse V

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

General Summary. Nearly a year since the Galactic Empire’s rise to power, Kazi Ennari is trying to survive. But her routine is interrupted—and life upended—when she’s forced to cohabitate with former Imperial soldiers. Clone soldiers. 

Pairing. Commander Wolffe x female!OC

General Warnings. Canon-typical violence and assault, familial struggles, terminal disease, bigotry, explicit sexual content, death. This story deals with heavy content. If you’re easily triggered, please do not read. For a more comprehensive list of tags, click here.

Fic Rating. E (explicit)/18+/Minors DNI.

A Like without a Reblog will result in an automatic block.

21 Relona

“The only birth control I’m interested in is sterilization.”

A choked gasp interrupted her sketching and Neyti frowned from where she knelt in the sunroom. Her back was to the windows (the sun’s glare kept ruining her sketch), and she pushed the sleeves of her dress to her elbows, blowing a loose strand of hair from her face.

“That’s extreme.” She recognized Daria’s voice. It was gentle, and it reminded her of Mummy’s. But Daria didn’t look like Mummy. Mummy had black hair like her, and bright blue eyes. But the exact color of blue was starting to fade. It was harder to remember Mummy’s face.

Neyti pushed the thought aside, instead, appraising her sketch. It was a dragon, like the one on her necklace. Vaeloria.

The female dragon visited her dreams most nights. They had lots of fun together. Vaeloria even let her ride on her back! Well, some nights.

Poking her tongue out the corner of her mouth, Neyti started on the teeth. Vaeloria was nice, even if she looked mean. Her teeth were pointy, like the knives in the kitchen Neyti wasn’t allowed to use, and she liked to gnash them together. Dark green scales elongated her face. They made her even scarier. Neyti loved it.

“What do you use?”

“I can’t use anything. It inhibits my medicine, and I can’t get pregnant, anyway.”

There was an exhausted sigh. “My body only just started acting normal a few years ago. I don’t want to introduce something that messes with my hormones.”

“It wasn’t normal?”

“My period was irregular. And my libido was all out of whack. I don’t want to go through those things again.”

Neyti half-listened to the conversation. She didn’t understand words like “birth control” and “hormones” and “libido.” Really, she didn’t care about the conversation. But she liked listening to her mum and Daria talk. They were finally being friends.

Finishing the scales of Vaeloria’s snout, Neyti set down her stylus, satisfied with her progress. She hoped Mr. Cody would help her frame it. He was good at those things because he had an artist’s eye. Like her. That was what he told her, at least. Mr. Fox had thought it was funny. She didn’t know why. But Mr. Fox thought lots of things were funny. He was weird that way.

That was why she liked Mr. Nova the bestest. He wasn’t funny, but he wasn’t super serious. She liked to watch him use his telescope, and she reallyliked it when he let her use it. She was good at using the telescope, she decided.

Neyti leaned back on her knees and glanced around the room. Mr. Wolffe was reading but he seemed to be having some trouble. He was frowning at his book, and now that she thought about it, she hadn’t heard him turn a page in a while. Maybe he forgot how to read.

No, she told herself. He was too smart for that.

She studied him, the way her mummy taught her to observe people. His eyes were unmoving. His head was tilted to the side. Like he was listening.

Oh! He was an eavesdropper!

Neyti pressed a hand to her mouth to stop herself from giggling.

He must have understood things like “birth control” and “hormones” and “libido.” He was smart that way.

Deciding her sketch could wait, Neyti wandered to the couch and plopped onto the seat beside Mr. Wolffe. He arched a thick brow. It looked like a black caterpillar, and she giggled at the realization. His eyes narrowed and then they rolled. She liked it when he did that. He was never mean about it. Not like some of the kids at school when she refused to do her readings aloud.  

Mr. Wolffe closed his book and reached into the cabinet of the small stand beside the couch. He pulled out a picture book she recognized.

“Do you remember where we were?” he asked, opening to the Table of Contents. Neyti scanned the numbers and pointed to chapter sixteen. “Good memory.”

Her cheeks warmed at the compliment. Mr. Wolffe’s large arm wrapped around her, and she snuggled into the warmth of his body. He was like a blanket, and he smelled good. Like one of her oldest memories. Back when Mummy was still alive.

“Once upon a time there was a princess,” Mr. Wolffe started.

Neyti stared at the picture on the page, a drawing of a pretty princess with black skin and a pink dress. She liked the princess’s curly hair.

The story wasn’t a fairytale about dragons, but it was still good. She’d ask Mr. Wolffe to retell the story tomorrow. He’d argue they were supposed to read the next chapter. But maybe she could trick him!

Leaning her head against him, she listened to the low rumble of his voice. She yawned.

One day she hoped to be a princess. A princess with a family who lived at home.

She looked toward the living area.

Maybe one day.

Masterlist | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20

[lizisshortforlizard]

Living Dangerously - Chapter 29

Jurassic Park’s animal handlers: none of them ever mentioned by name in Michael Crichton’s original novel. Who were they? What were their lives like on Isla Nublar? Did any of them survive the disaster?

A year in the life of those responsible for the care of the dinosaurs. Many people would kill to have their jobs.

But would they die for it?

Jurassic Park novel/Jurassic Park film (1993)

Viewpoint: 3rd person female oc

Warnings: ready to have your heart ripped out?

Tagging: @heresthefanfiction @ocappreciation @wordspin-shares @howlingmadlady @arrthurpendragon @themaradwrites @starryeyes2000 @kmc1989 (please lmk if you would like informed of my sporadic updates)

Read on Ao3

Chapter 28 | Chapter 30

Living After Midnight - Judas Priest

Over the constant hum and buzz of the jungle darkness, never completely silent, Lizzy’s laughter was ringing through the trees, ricocheting around the clearing next to the Rex paddock. 

She had a filthy laugh that Muldoon hadn’t heard before. At hundred per cent volume, totally out of control, with her head thrown all the way back.  It was bloody glorious. 

And he would be attempting to make her do it again, as soon as possible. 

I’ll have more of that please. 

“Christ Almighty-“ Lizzy wiped her streaming eyes. “-that’s one of the funniest things I’ve ever heard. Well done.” She started cackling breathlessly again, clutching her stomach.

“If I wasn’t awake before that, I certainly was afterwards.”

“I’ll bet.” She wriggled uncomfortably, her ribs were seriously aching. “That was a good one. Got any more?”

“More than we’ve likely got time for.”

The campfire was finally dying. They’d been out in the park for hours, it had to be almost midnight. 

He built me a campfire. Lizzy was practically vibrating with contentment. Not that she couldn’t build her own fire, of course she could, but that wasn’t the point. The gesture was the point, and the fact he had agreed to an open flame amongst trees in the first place. 

Just this once. While there’s nobody here. Those were his exact words. 

Breaking the rules. 

Just this once. 

“We’ve got all the time in the world.” She insisted. “You really should write these down, you know.”

“Maybe someday. If I ever manage to retire. In fact-“ he was struck by an idea. “-you’re a decent writer.”

“Planning on keeping me around that long?”

“I’d like to think so. You have your uses.”

“I’ll take that.” Lizzy worked hard to keep her voice even after the compliment. “But you’d need plenty of photos, or drawings. I don’t know about you, but I’ve always preferred books with pictures.”

Her tone had just enough suggestion for Muldoon to wonder if Baker, despite her promises, had let slip about his own artistic capabilities.

He quickly moved the conversation along before she had too long to dwell on the thought. “You must have a few stories of your own by now?”

Lizzy did indeed have a good one she hadn’t yet shared. Through instinct, she looked around the clearing for eavesdroppers, although they had to be the only two humans for miles and miles, a vast stretch of ocean separating them from the nearest civilisation.  

“On the topic of photographs…I never told anyone outside of the research station because I didn’t want to embarrass Simon.” She rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t matter now, and it’s not like you two will ever meet anyway.”

“Go on.” He caught his grimace just in time at the mention of the ex-fiancé’s name. 

“The first time he came to visit me in Namibia, he was a little, uh-…condescending to the locals in our team-“

Muldoon was familiar with what the swift response from said locals would be, rich white clients tended to all behave in a similar way. It was expected. But that was a whole other collection of tales for the fireside. “I’ll bet that was swiftly resolved.”

“They had some fun with him first. Simon was parading his new Polaroid camera around giving it “magic picture” this and that. I was mortified.”

“Christ-“

“He hasn’t travelled much outside the States.” Lizzy explained. “Or, in fact, outside the state of New York. Anyway, one of my team, proceeds to tell Simon, translated by yours truly, that she prefers the resolution on the Nikon 35mm and also that she had the equipment handy to help Simon clean his dirty lens.”

Muldoon smiled grimly. “You laughed too, I imagine?”

He wondered if it had been as good as the ridiculous laugh he had recently become acquainted with. 

Lizzy had indeed tried and miserably failed to keep a straight face at her partners come-uppance. “I couldn’t help it!”

She recalled the memory. Simon’s face had been hot and red, mortally embarrassed, and he’d stormed off by himself into the long grass. 

A terrible, possibly fatal response. 

Once she’d caught up to him with a shotgun slung over her shoulder, she’d had to sweet-talk him into returning to camp before he stumbled across a big cat, buffalo or even a snake who would really give him something to be upset about.

That hadn’t improved his temper at all, but he had been downright foolish of him to just wander off like he was taking a stroll in Central bloody Park!

Why’d you laugh at me? Are all your friends like this? Do we really have to stay out here with them? What’s wrong with Windhoek?

Windhoek, really? They’re just messing with you!  It’s fine! 

Not fine, Liz! They should apologise!

You’re the one who should apologise! Pembe is the best guide we have and you were damn rude-

And so on. One of many disagreements, and they seemed to be increasing in frequency. 

“Yeah, he didn’t see the funny side at all.” She sniffed. “Was never that great at laughing at himself. Bless him.”  “You need to have a fantastic sense of humour-“ Muldoon’s voice was as dry as if he were telling Lizzy her shoelace was untied. “-to work with things that regularly try to make your life insurance policy pay out before time.”

“Good thing you’re so in tune with your emotions then, eh?” The comment earned her nothing more than a derisive glance as he lowered his slouch hat over his face, and she chuckled again. 

Maybe it was the Towel Incident, or the disastrous cooking attempt that had followed, but the ice was well and truly broken. No going back now. Lizzy felt the most like herself since the breakup. It was so easy, talking to him like this. She was happy. 

They were on opposite sides of the campfire, Lizzy scooched a fraction closer on her blanket so she could see him better through the heat haze. 

Muldoon was on the ground too, stretched out on a blanket of his own. Lizzy wasn’t sure how he seemed to look even taller lying down. She shook her head, trying to chase away the thought of how she’d measure up. 

Lizzy watched him for a long time, thinking to herself in comfortable silence, before speaking again. 

“Tell me about her.”

“Who?”

He’d answered instantly. Of course he was awake under the hat, alert. As always.

“Your wife.” She answered quietly. 

Muldoon hmm-ed for a long moment, Lizzy waiting as patiently as she was able, trying her hardest not to fidget. 

Just when she thought there was no way he was ever going to answer her in this lifetime, he did. 

“You’re not unlike her. Your attitude is-“ Damn. Did it again. He corrected. “-was very similar.”

“You can say ‘is’.” Lizzy told him gently. “Nobody here but me.”

“She cooked much better than you can.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Lizzy muttered. “But, in my defence, I didn’t know food could be any other colour than beige until I left school.” Shuffling where she sat, her legs starting to get pins and needles. “She pretty?”

“Knockout.”

“Wow.” She grinned. “Lucky you.”

“A lot taller than you.” Muldoon added. “Honour is likely going to hit six foot once she’s in high school.”

“Honour?”

“Our daughter.”

“Ah.” It occurred to Lizzy he’d never told her the name of his child before. Or ever used the prefix ‘our’. Always mine. Always my responsibility from now on. No more our. 

It felt like he was divulging a massive secret. Honour. Lizzy rolled it around in her brain. Not a name she would ever have imagined him going for, but she liked it. Rather a lot.

He took the hat from his eyes and looked her up and down. “She’s almost your height already, in fact. Although that wouldn’t be difficult.”

“The diet of beige is to blame. Unfortunately, I’m stunted.”  Not where it counts Muldoon thought. There was a reason he liked walking behind along Dr Armstrong where he could get away with it. The view was spectacular.

He tried very hard to get her quite frankly unfair side profile out of his head before he answered. “We’ll pretend the smoking habit had nothing to do with it, then. Honestly, the pair of you would have gotten along.” It was the truth. His wife, too, loved elephants and had a downright filthy laugh.

“Did Jeff know her?” Lizzy asked, hoping the answer was yes. 

“They were lethal together.”

“Dr Blacklaw has quite excellent taste in women, what can I say?” She made a show of tossing her hair back.  Muldoon found himself wondering if their paths had crossed sooner and he had met Armstrong in Africa, how would he have felt about her? How would she have felt about him? 

Life might have been very different. Maybe he would have turned down the offer from InGen, gone to India instead. He wouldn’t have to be so careful about what he said or did all the time. 

At least the other chap was out of the picture now. Matters were a damn sight better than when she first arrived with that rock on her finger, like a shameless beacon, flashing I’m taken every time the sun caught it at the right angle: You haven’t got a hope in Hell. 

Maybe the universe was capable of working things out for itself, even if it had put him through the metaphorical wringer to get to this point. 

“Has there-…” Lizzy was so relaxed she had forgotten herself, who she worked for, and all her manners. As the question was tumbling from her mouth she realised how inappropriate it was. They were good friends, sure, but working friendships always had their limits.

She was about to cross a very dangerous line. 

“What?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Less of that. It clearly does, or you wouldn’t have said it.”

In a rare occasion, she seemed lost for words.

”Nobody here but me.” He quoted her own words back to her.

“I…don’t know if you’ll like it.” She fumbled. “I was just curious. Nosy. I was being nosy, alright? Sorry.”

“Try me.”

Lizzy knew that tone. I dare you. If you’re brave enough. Deep breath.

“Has there been…anyone since?”

I double dare you.

There followed a very long pause during which Lizzy thought don’t ask why, do not ask why. 

“Why?”

Dammit. 

She couldn’t be the only person on the planet who could see the appeal. More-so now that he’d stopped drinking, Lizzy had an even harder time keeping her thoughts in check. He was looking damn fine recently. 

“Eight years is a long time!” Lizzy sighed and wrung her hands. “And I told you that you wouldn’t like it! Don’t answer. No need.”

“It’s alright.”

Muldoon was in fact very interested to see where this particular conversation was headed.

They could have been back in Kenya, with the campfire and animal calls, though of a different era, still familiar in their nature, all around them. 

If there’s a right time, it’s probably now.

“Nobody significant.” He answered. One or two that didn’t work out. Three or four that had just been stress relief. Nobody that he felt deserved any more of his time or his life, or his daughter’s. Until Armstrong had landed on the island with a bang and instantly began rearranging the natural order, and damn her, questioning the where-why-how of everybloodything. 

Lizzy meanwhile, was wishing she had never brought the subject up. 

And she knew the reason. Not because it was awkward to talk about, strangely enough it wasn’t awkward in the slightest. His answer had been as casual as if she had asked him what the time was, or what the weather was likely to do tomorrow. But the answer she had most wanted to hear, been hoping to hear, no, nobody at all, was way too much to wish for. 

She’d been correct. Eight years was a long time.

Or maybe Lizzy was just a little peeved he’d probably done better in the last eight years being out of a relationship than she had done  being in one until very recently. 

She had to admit the first two years with Simon had been a lot of fun. After that it became less about fun, and more about we’re in the same country, so we’d better do something about it. God, I’m so tired. Are you tired? C’mon, we gotta. At least once. I love you. So tired.

“Anything else in this particular line of questioning, while we’re at it?” He actually sounded amused.

“When…-“ Lizzy started then ground to a halt again. Way too inappropriate.

“When…?”

She just wanted to die there and then.

“Doesn’t matter.” She frowned and deliberately looked away. “Forget it.”

“Were you about to ask ‘when was the last time’?” Muldoon smirked. He knew he was on the money. And seeing the normally confident and bolshy ethologist becoming a little flustered was delightful. “Getting rather personal there, Armstrong.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” She stammered. “None of my business.”

“I honestly don’t mind.” This could work both ways. “We’re adults. I will if you will.”

Curiosity was burning Lizzy’s insides so much that it was manifesting as stomach ache. She had gotten herself into this mess, may as well keep going. She nodded, ignoring  Kathy’s voice in her head warning you’re gonna get in troooouble…

“Remember when the dilophosaur did a number on you? I was away at the time?”

“Huh. So when you said you had a good trip, you meant you had a good trip. I see.” She played with the belt loops on her jeans, reluctant to deliver her side of the deal. 

Muldoon cleared his throat. “Forgetting something, missus?”

“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t like this game.” Lizzy grumbled, only because she was losing. 

“Then don’t give what you can’t take. I’ll have to make a wild guess if you don’t want to say out loud.”

Lizzy mumbled something that he took as affirmative.

“Let’s see, then.” She was shifty-eyed and squirming. Brilliant. “ Didn’t you stop off in the States with your man before you came over here?”

“Well, yeah-“ Lizzy forced herself to get over her self-consciouness. She still had the Spanish dictionary somewhere in her room in the lodge. Regrettably, the only thing Simon had given her before she boarded her flight to Costa Rica. “But if that’s your guess, you’re dead wrong.”

Muldoon looked at her in disbelief. He had so many questions.  What the Hell had the man been playing at?! It was like he wanted to lose her.

“This year at least?” 

“Yes, if you absolutely must know!” Lizzy knew the exact Pantone shade of scarlet she was turning, far beyond pretending it was from the heat of the campfire. “April was a very good month, okay?”

April?! It’s nearly bloody next year now…

Her short temper now seemed incredibly explainable.

”I can hear you thinking.” Lizzy said grumpily, still not looking directly at him. “Not quite the answer you were expecting from someone like me, eh?”

“If that’s true, I can’t help but feel most of your bad moods have a fairly easy fix.”

“Not so easy on a tiny island, where people talk. Our favourite engineer being the main culprit.” She grinned at him. “Or I could follow your example and finally have a good reason to go back to the mainland.”

He didn’t want her to do that at all, actually, but he grudgingly agreed.

She was lying on her side, propped up on an elbow. The size of her waist in comparison to her hips was unreal. Nothing wrong with her khaki shorts, but those damn jeans were doing her some incredible favours.

Lizzy couldn’t stop, though she was wary of feeling upset from finding out more things she didn’t really want to hear. “So, do you really like this person on the mainland?” 

Muldoon chose his words carefully. ”There is someone I’m keen on, yes.”

What the-

“Oh. Yeah, great. Good for you.” It came out more sarcastic than she intended. 

Muldoon nearly laughed. Armstrong wasn’t following him. 

”You know, it’s alright to be jealous.” He couldn’t resist toying with her.

Lizzy’s reaction was explosive. 

”I’m not-“ She practically back snarled at him. “Hm. I’m not jealous!”

Very convincing thought Muldoon. 

No, not jealous. She was fuming. Someone else?! Why was he telling her that? Lizzy really thought he liked her, and now he was interested in someone else? 

”Armstrong…” Please get there faster. I’m not ready to say it yet. 

Boy, did she feel silly when she realised Muldoon was talking about her.

She was the one he was interested in. 

”This person-“ Lizzy was finally on the same wavelength, much to the relief of both of them . “-I’m not sure she’s good enough for you.” 

“Oh, really?”  “I have some questions. Just to be certain.” The delighted grin was threatening to burst forth. She forced a neutral expression.

Keep it together.

“First question: is she pretty?”

“Very.”

“Intelligent?”

“She’s a clever girl, yes.”

“Meek and feeble?”

“Not even a bit. And you know fine that’s not what I would want.” Muldoon gave her that look she knew oh-so-well. “You’re pushing your luck, by the way.”

Lizzy laughed again, the real, uncontrollable laugh, and he finally smiled.

New Year’s Eve, or Hogmanay as she better knew it, had always been more magical than Christmas. No matter how bad things got, the moment the clock struck midnight had the promise of a new beginning, a fresh start. A chance to do better this time around. 

But she knew exactly what would happen this year on Nublar. The spell would break. They would go back to the visitor centre, back to work, and in a few days it would be as if this night had never even happened.

She needed to do something. Before it all ended.

“You alright in there?” He had noticed her smile fading. 

”Fine. Just thinking.”

Muldoon scoffed. 

“I know well enough that fine, very rarely means fine. Especially when it’s coming from you, my girl.” He stared her down. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s just…not fair.” Lizzy became aware she was whining, and hated herself for it.

She didn’t need to elaborate. He knew exactly what she meant. “I agree.”

Why couldn’t we have just met in Africa? 

”I don’t want to go back. Not yet.”

“Neither do I, but we have to, at some point.”

“Why, though?”  Muldoon hesitated, trying to word it as diplomatically as he could, to avoid upsetting her.

“Because there are rules that can’t be broken, and ultimately I’m responsible for your safety.” Damn this whole situation. “That is what it all comes down to.”

“Okay.” She reluctantly agreed. “Let’s go, I suppose.”

It’s not okay, it’s not okay at all.  A part of her had desperately hoped something would happen that night. Conditions were otherwise perfect. They’d likely never have a chance like this again for a long time. 

But it wasn’t meant to be.

Unless…

She had an idea. 

“Fire’s still going.” Lizzy stated flatly. “I’ll sort it out.”   The ground was too hard to kick dirt over it. But she knew Muldoon kept a couple of metal jerry cans in the back of his Jeep. Not InGen protocol, just old habits. 

One was water, one was gas. Labelled of course, but it was pitch black apart from the glowing embers nearby.

Don’t want to get these two mixed up. 

She unscrewed the lid of the first container and got a noseful of fumes. Then checked the second, and bingo, slightly stale water that smelled like the colour green. But it was much heavier than she anticipated, almost full. 

“Ooyah! Son of a bitch!” She’d tried to lift, lost grip, and somehow managed to trap her finger between the two cans with a bang. 

“Everything alright back there?”

“It’s fine, under control!” Lizzy struggled to free herself, cursing under her breath at her own clumsiness. Idiot. “Shitshitshit, come on!”

She eventually succeeded, dousing the remains of the fire with a quiet sizzle and a faint wisp of smoke.

Darkness.

Muldoon hadn’t started the Jeep yet, waiting for her, there wasn’t any light at all in the clearing.  She put the can in its place, then hung back by the tailgate, quiet and still. 

And in three…two…one…

Muldoon didn’t take long to twig that something suspicious was afoot.

”Christ’s sake, Armstrong, don’t do it!” He sounded exasperated. “If you’re planning on playing hide and seek in the dark again, I’m not having it this time.”

She didn’t answer.

If he wasn’t into this, he’d just wait me out.

Lizzy was very quickly proven right.

“I know exactly where you are.” He kept up a stream of expletives in her general direction as he slammed the driver’s door. “I’ve being doing this for years. I’m very good at it.” 

Come get me, then.

Lizzy didn’t even hardly dare breathe, placing her palm over her mouth to stay quiet.  Silence. 

For just a beat too long. 

Hang on, where the Hell is he? 

Lizzy realised she possibly no longer had the upper hand.  A tiny, deliberate, shuffle of gravel under heavy boots right next to her, that made her jump and flatten her body against the taillights with a small thump.

He was close. Much closer than she thought. And she’d just given herself away. 

“Got you.” Muldoon was attempting to sound put out, but he’d enjoyed that, as much was evident in his voice, she could tell. “Too easy.”

”Fair and square, mister. So, what are we going to do next?”

”You’re going to get in the Jeep, and we’re going back to the lodge.”

Lizzy leaned against the rear bumper, making the metal creak underneath her. Just so he knew exactly where she was.

”See, I don’t really feel like getting back in the Jeep right now, isn’t that a kicker?” She hoped the lip-bite was evident in how she coyly spoke. “What are you going to do about that?”

“I will pick you up.” Muldoon threatened. “Employee handbook be damned.” 

“If that’s the case, handbook out the window, then I think you should do more than just ‘pick me up.’” She mimicked. “I’d let you.”

“Lizzy.” Deep, exasperated sigh. “I am using your first name so you know how serious I am. Get in the Jeep.” 

She uttered the two words that she knew ahead of time would be the equivalent of a red rag to the park warden. 

“Make me.”

God, she could feel the annoyance radiating from him. He was bristling. 

But nothing could have prepared her for what happened next. 

Lizzy heard him tapping impatiently on the side panel of the Jeep, it felt like a countdown.

Should I be runni-?

“Right-“ He was fast.

She wasn’t fast enough. 

And really should have ran while she had the chance.

He was making good on his word that he would pick her up, willing or not, employee handbook, workplace code, the unspoken rules all thrown out of the window, never to be seen again. 

Muldoon went straight for her legs, grabbing handfuls of her through her jeans. Damn woman, she would get in the bloody car. 

Lizzy shrieked and flung out her arms, scrabbling for something, anything to grab onto, both hands found and gripped the sides of the Jeep tailgate. 

Muldoon was trying his best to pry her free while she barely clung on for dear life with her fingernails, not unlike a cat that was avoiding being stuffed into a cage and carted off to the veterinary surgery.

She felt the pressure on her legs ease, and thought he’d given up. She started to loosen her fingers on the cool metal. 

Then he found the backs of her knees with both hands, and pulled hard. But Lizzy wasn’t for letting go just yet. She still clung on for dear life like a very determined barnacle. 

“By Christ, you’re strong-“ There was a hint of desperation in Muldoon’s normally measured voice.

That did it.  Lizzy was gone then, she started laughing helplessly at the absurdity of what was happening, what events had led to this moment, and how ridiculous they must look.   She finally lost her grip all at once and slid ungracefully downwards with a thump, accepting defeat, still cackling.

Lizzy just knew Muldoon was shaking his head in exasperation at her in the dark, his accident-prone, walking disaster of an ethologist. 

“Sit up, you bloody lunatic.” But then her entire hand was grasped in his, pulling her upright into a sitting position. “For God’s sake, don’t bang your head. It might knock some sense into you, but I don’t fancy the paperwork.”

”It’s far too late for me.” Lizzy tried to catch her breath. “Would need to be one Hell of a bang.”

Realising the connotations too late, she snorted and muttered sorry as she tried to reason with her hair, patting it back into a more respectable shape.  

She felt two fingers under her chin, tilting her face upwards and she tensed, her breath caught in her throat.  “What am I going to do with you, Lizzy?”

The question was absolutely loaded.

”Anything you like.” She impulsively answered in a low voice.

She was euphoric, riding the high that had been building since the moment she stepped down out of the Jeep into the clearing, and honestly she just didn’t care any longer. 

They would never be alone again after New Year’s Eve. 

This was it. Her only chance for God knew how long. 

She had it bad, so bad for him. And she couldn’t really remember just then why this was such a terrible idea in the first place. Something about those damn rules…

Eh, never been one for the rules anyway.  Lizzy craned her neck upwards, stretching as far as she possibly could, relying on her intuition alone in the dark. 

She found what she was searching for and after a last moment of hesitation, she finally did it. She kissed him.  

He pulled away slightly, unsure. Lizzy felt sick that she’d misjudged horribly, and was starting to seriously panic with how she could possibly play this one off.

I…fell?

But she could have cried with relief when he apparently got over the surprise and began kissing her in return, leaning into her. Responding to her. 

It felt so right, so bizarrely normal, that Lizzy found herself briefly wondering why they hadn’t been doing this the whole damn time they’d known each other. 

Slow and hesitant at first. Then something simultaneously clicked for the both of them, and it turned into an altogether different experience. Urgent, messy, not at all careful, not what Lizzy was used to at all.

Lizzy feared the lamps would click on and flood the clearing with light at any second. Like they had to hurry before they were caught, as if John Hammond himself might pop out of the bushes, brandishing his cane, gotcha!

But it didn’t matter. This was what she’d needed. She hadn’t realised how much she needed it, that she wanted this so badly. For far longer than the past few months of living in Costa Rica.

She realised she didn’t mind so much anymore if she banged her head on the floor of Jeep. Repeatedly. In fact, at this moment in time she’d be glad of it. They might not make it back to the lodge. 

But as quickly as had happened, it was over. Fate had very different ideas for how the night would progress. 

He pushed a little too hard into her hips, and oh God it’s happening, forcing her backwards against the bed of the Jeep as Lizzy let her legs relax and fall further apart. It was evidently far too much for the built-in motion sensor, and the alarm in the vehicle began blaring like a police siren at ear-splitting volume, all lights flashing in unison. The Rex snorted and roared unhappily at the disturbance from the other side of the fence, only adding to the din.  The noise had the same effect as if someone had poured a bucket of ice cold water over them. 

“Shit-“ Lizzy shot upright, pulling away and covered her ears while Muldoon fumbled for the Jeep keys to stop the racket. 

Then silence. Deafening, smothering silence. Even the Rex was quiet. A single hadrosaur trumpeted in the distance.

She waited, unsure what to do next, she couldn’t read his expression in the dark, but he felt off. Something was badly wrong. 

“I’m taking you back now.” Muldoon said tersely. “I would really appreciate it if you just do what I ask this time.”

”Okay.” She knew better than to argue.

“That was out of order.” He continued icily. “That cannot happen again.” 

“Got it. Sorry.” Lizzy felt the heat rising in her cheeks. Goddamn embarrassment, flooding every cell. I can’t believe this. I’ve blown it. “I’m really sorry.” 

He didn’t respond as she shuffled into the passenger side and quietly buckled her seatbelt. He wouldn’t even look at her. She tried again, one last attempt. 

I’m using your first name so you know how serious I am. 

”Robert, I’m really sorry.”

Please believe me.

Please answer me.

She‘d never used his name before, ever. This wasn’t the pleading circumstances she wanted to use it for the first time. Not at all. 

Her efforts didn’t work. 

”Don’t do that.” Muldoon replied flatly, starting the engine while staring straight ahead. “We’ll deal with this in the morning.” 

Lizzy’s heart plummeted, her chest constricting, aching with that too familiar pain all over again.

Her stomach was flipping back and forth in sheer panic for the entire silent-and-not-in-a-good-way journey back to the lodge. 

She didn’t even bother trying for a goodnight as they parted ways to their own rooms. Neither of them did.  I’ve really done it this time.

Months of building a rapport, gone in an instant because of one false judgement. And what if he told Jeff what she’d done? What if anyone on the island, at InGen, found out what she’d done?

The rumours that had been swirling around would finally be true. There were names Lizzy would be called that she couldn’t just brush off anymore. Nobody would take her, or her work, seriously ever again. She’d be an outcast.

All terrible things. But worst of all was Muldoon refusing to acknowledge her. That was the reason she was trying her damnedest not to cry.  Stupid. Stupid, stupid idiot! 

It had turned out to be too much too soon. Maybe too much ever.

Why do I always do this? Why do I always ruin everything? 

***

Thanks for reading!

If a particular anecdote sounds familiar, I mayyyyy have drawn some inspiration from George of the Jungle (this is very important for later 🎶)

The story I envisioned Muldoon telling Lizzy is along the lines of Peter Capstick’s black mamba in the latrine story from Death in the Long Grass. If you want some idea of just how funny it is, I’ve read it multiple times and know what’s coming almost verbatim. I still laugh every time I read it.

And hearing Muldoon calmly recount one of the many times he’s almost checked out early would be, I imagine, quite hilarious.

I can’t believe I finally got to post this chapter. It’s been here since the very first draft, it’s quite special to me as New Year, or Hogmanay as we call it, is a much bigger deal in Scotland. A very important tradition is the first foot, which is supposed to bring you good fortune for the year ahead.

…I guess they did it wrong.

[cyani-ion]

Very bored at work today. Gonna write down some stuff about my ososan oc June/Juniper. I’ve been hoarding for a year. Nothings set in stone so i apologize if any of these clash, its more of a list of things about June that I like rn (updated July 2024)

Quick Character Summary: Think of her as a burnt out Saturday morning cartoon villain.

After getting kicked out of grad program, she’s slowly trying to put the pieces together and figure out where it all went wrong…also she works as Head Front Desk Associate at a love hotel.

Personality: Selfish. Smart. Ambitous. Competative. Realist. Delousional. Lonely.

About 5 years older than the brothers. Early 30s

Spoiled by a pair of doting, hippie parents. Homeschooled until junior high.

Highschool self was very angry, paranoid, and judgmental. Doesn’t remember any of it.

Cannot step within 100ft of her old campus. Is currently banned from all laboratories in Japan for “National Security Reasons” and was forced to drop out because of it.

Losing her lifes work throws her in the midst of a full blown identity crisis that she’s currently ignoring.

Limited time left in Japan (expiring visa)

Hasn’t told her parents yet????…somehow???

Curiosity killed the cat very much applies to her. Won’t question her own behavior though. Why would she? She always right!

Owns about 5 lab rats as pets (she stole adopted them after her old university kicked her out). Either she trained them secretly to communicate with her, lets them free roam to get gossip around the neighborhood. Or maybe she just tells people that to freak em out. Will decide later 👍🏾

Talks to herself and her rats.

Hard time remembering names/faces. Keeps a people profile in her satchel (a notebook with stats she wrote down). she’s taken up people watching and photography.

Loves having shit to do. Hates doing nothing or wasting the day.

Best poker face in the game.

Misplaced focus and intensity on her job as manager at a love hotel. Its all she has.

I think the bois try to ask for advice at one point but she is of no help since she doesn't know shit herself.

Eyesight is garbage/20. Her childhood glasses made her look like an owl.

Because of that and prior history with gossip, shes a fantastic eavesdropper

This is entirely for self indulgent reason, but in another universe she’d end up date that scary dude that told the bros to stfu in the bing bong button skit (s2ep21) (wiki says he’s gangster i guess 🤷🏾‍♀️)

She’s a miser. Big ol’ cheapskate

LOVES a cappella (begs the boys to do it every once in a while when tipsy)

Doesn’t like violence (she’s just scared of getting hurt)

At one sad, sad point in her life was sapiosexual (it was earlier than you’d expect)

Every year, her grandmother knits a new painfully colorful, pair of socks for her birthday. She loves them, and her, very much and wears them all the time when its cold.

Geniunely enjoys helping people solve things. Would be a excellent teacher / life coach.

Sex toy collector.

Very teasing

Likes carving soap

Allergic to cats (and prob Ichi)

Low tolerance for alcohol. Becomes a giggly runaway-jane after the 1st highball.

Once fell out of a tree as a kid and now has a metal kneecap that can pick up radio signals.

Still loves climbing trees (favorite activity when drunk) And stargazing. Reminds her of home…

Loves reading romance novels, particularly if it invovles aliens/monsters/robots.

Will read 6 encyclopedias before even thinking about asking for help

She’s clean, but has a bizarre apartment layout that makes sense only to her and her rat pack.

Back issues from sleeping crouched on desk and reading chairs

Long hair has never been cut, only trimmed.

Met Chibita first before everybody else. Gets oden for an early breakfast before he closes. and considers him a friend. Doesn’t really hang out with the Matsus too much outside of the stand.

Because of her hours

Favorite Holiday: New Years Eve

Favorite Season: Winter

Favorite Foods: gyudon

Favorite Drinks: Iced Coffee and Spiced Rum

Favorite Genre of Movie: Musicals from the 50’s-60’s

Favorite Color: Blue Grey / Magenta

Favorite Animal: Polar Bears

Favorite Hobby: Reading palms

Favorite Matsu: Jyush - She’s a little obsessed with him. He Inspires something evil in her (in the way that got her in trouble at the college) Thinks his defying physics and reality thing is real neat. He thrives on the attention and praise so they usually hang out a lot. It takes way too fucking long for June to figure out how to process these new feelings. Its a very stressful and confusing thing, but loves spending time with him anyway.

Least Favorite Matsu: Oso - the most fun they have is tossing insults and annoying the shit out of each other. Though they sometimes seek eatch other out for real shit life advice from time to time. Also he owes her like $70 and its been a month and she’s brandishing a crowbar as I type this.

Her closest friendship is with Chibita