#of COURSE the week i leave to go on a four hour car ride for 9 days something fun happens >:((((

[flowerfreya]

First Day

This is Part 2 of an office / cooperate AU for poly!141

Here’s Part 1 / Part 3

Pairing 141 x you

Tw: mean bf ( not 141)

The 141 leaves at the same time , and when they get down to the lobby they see that you are still down there in the cafe with a cup that is for sure empty and a large smart water on your phone. They are all shocked to see you there and and John is pissed but tries to breathe through it.

“What are you still doing here?” ,He ask.

You look up and is a little startled when you are greeted by 4 large guys looming over you. Your startled a little bit, “huh?”, you tired and you know you haven’t done anything for seven hours but your still not at home and you wish you were.

“What are you still doing here, bird?” John pushes out , he has an ideas as to why but he wants to hear from you.

“Oh , I’m waiting on my boyfriend , he gets off in 4 more hours” you say brightly , faking it until you make it.

“Do you need a ride ?”, Soap interjects, “ I get great gas mileage.”

“Oh thank you for the offer, but I’m okay”. You know how your boyfriend can get when he thinks that you are entertaining other guys , which you would never do but he doesn’t seem to realize that.

“You sure?” he questions, you want to take him up on his offer but you know you can’t so just smile and shake your head.

~

Four and half hours later you are passenger side of the car and he doesn’t even ask how your interview went just wonders what for dinner.

You roll your eyes , you don't even like cooking but its your duty since you don’t work and still need to share the responsibilities.

“Probably chicken and rice”

“Anything other than that?” , that pisses you off because one: you haven’t made chicken and rice for a two weeks and two: you don’t like cooking so he should take what’s he gets.

“If you don’t like how about you cook” you snap back.

“Don’t be such a bitch” he says casually. You know you deserve better than this but you feel stuck, you’ve been with him for 8 years, he was you first everything and while they has been many breaks within your relationship you never strayed and hopefully he hasn’t either (he has break or not).

You get home , you make dinner you don’t really want to make , have a sex with a guy you don’t really want to have sex with and go to sleep in a bed you really don’t want to sleep in.

The call comes in the morning at 8:30 am sharp , your so excited you have an issue answering the phone so it take a couple of rings beofre the sliding your thumb across the screen.

“Hello”

“Good morning , this John Price from the interview yesterday” his voice sounds so nice and low over the phone and you honestly love and it take you second to remember to say something back.

“Yes, that’s me”

“We would like to offer you a position as receptionist associate”

“Yes!”

“Woah, bird slow down, you need to hear my offer and then ask some questions”

“Oh okay sure”. So you listen to him talk and do a spiel that sounds almost robotic. He ask if you want to negotiate for the salary. No you say. Honey, you should negotiate he says. So you ask for a dollar more than offered and he says that will be fine.

“When can you start ? “ he ask

“Immediately”

“Today?”

“Ummm I guess not immediately, my boyfriend has the car today”

“I’ll call you a car” he says easily.

“Oh sure, how long do I have”

“Can you be ready in 30 minutes” . No. You cannot, but you say, “Sure”, in the most preppy voice as possible, you can feel the aniexty ramping up.

When you get off the phone it’s a mad scramble to find an outfit , which of course nothing fit rights and everything is wrinkly. You do your hair but you need a reti and your hair is fuzzy so you just leave it down. Your make up is not turning out right and you forgot to powder your makeup so now it’s going to crease. And you didn’t have breakfast but still has coffee so now your going to have to go the bathroom in 20 minutes and it’s not going to be fun.

And your sweating. A lot.

You just finished with your routine by the time you get the text from the number that called you this morning

>>the car is here for you.

You thumbs up the message, rushing out the door with your tote bag.

You slide into the backseat of the car because you think it’s a rideshare.

“What are you doing back there? Sit up here with me”. You look up and see Soap looking at your through the rear view mirror and shoot him a smile slide out of the backseat and move to the front seat.

“I didnt know this is what Mr. John meant when he said he was going to send a car”

“Mr. John,eh”

“ I just want to be respectful,” you say with a laugh.

“Hen , he will love that”

~

By the time you get to the office you are a bundle of nerves , you hate being the new girl , you also hate not being good at your job. You know what happens when you get a new job but you can still hate it. You are picking at your cuticles which is a nervous tick that you have, you follow Johnny up the office space and sit on the sofa next to the reception and wait for John to call you into his office. You do the basic onboarding task with and thankfully Kyle which you now know as “Gaz” is HR and that’s why he’s in the annex. After you are done with John you get sent back there and complete the rest of the task and that when you get shown your desk at reception.

“You can decorate it however you want”

“Really” You’ve never had a cubicle or a desk that you can decorate however you want. You're so excited to go to TJ Maxx after work and spend the money you don’t have . You sit at the desk and get started with making your system to work. Making a new voicemail message, making a new email signature and distro list. You look after answering the phone and having to assign to a rep and see a tall man with a surgery mask staring back at. You remember when you got the tour of that being Simon Riley. You give him a big smile and wave nd then point to the phone and then to you then to him and nods once, you transfer the call hopefully to Simon but then you hear Johns phone ring and you internally cringe, already knowing that you transferred the call to the wrong office.

“This is Price , what can I do for ya?” you hear and want the floor to swallow you up. You look over at Simon and his eyes widening and then is followed by his shoulders shaking and great hes laughing at you.

“Hen, a word ? “ You look up and see John in doorway, leaning against in that sexy way that guys do and you stand up from your desk with you head down and head over. You squeeze by him to get into the office and he shuts the door behind you.

“Please have seat , do you know how to- “ You quickly cut him off and start to explain how your still getting used to transferring calls and that you know Simon sits next to Soap but Soap real name is John but also called Johnny and then everyone's name is blinking an-

“Your not in trouble … did anyone teach how to use the phones?” You shake your head, and then he teaches you, like actually teaches you how to do things, and its the best first day you ever had.

~

You forgot to tell your boyfriend you had to work, and when he got home without you being there he called you. Your phone was on silent. In your purse. He has your location.

The door slam opens with the blinds bouncing on the door causing you be look and be startled. “Where the hell have you been” he demands , you know hes mad , his face is red amd his hair look like he ran his hand through it multiple times and you know for a fact the car is park half haphazardly taking up two spots.

Your used to this attitude and you make sure you stay perfectly still but not too defensive because it will make it worse but you’ve never experienced it at work. You glance over to your coworkers: John standing up in his doorway, Soap moving towards your desk, and Simon watching from his desk , he’s alert and you can’t see his hands.

“I’ve been here, they wanted me to start today”, you smile hoping to pacify him. You start to get stuff ready already knowing that you are about to leave just so he won’t embarrass you anymore. “I’m sorry it was all so sudden, you know”, ending in a nervous laughter.

“I’m not fucking laughing”, he says your name with so much force , you lean back as if that will get you away from him.

“I know” , you say softly, moving around the desk and putting your jacket on.

You look around and thank them for such a good first day.

“You okay ?”, John ask you with a tilt of his head trying to look you in the eye.

“She fine”, your boyfriend answered for you. You know you have tears in your eyes and if you were lighter you would be flustered but all there is to show for it is sweaty armpits. You nod you head and smile at him.

“I will see you guys tomorrow , have a nice rest of your day” , just as your boyfriend grabs you by the arm and drags you out of there.

~

John glances at Soap and then Simon and nods his head towards annex. They need to have a little chat about the receptionist and her little boyfriend.

[moonchild9350]

Sign The Dotted Line (Chapter One)

Series Summary: You are an ordinary person, working an ordinary job, nothing too special until you come across an ad for an application to become the new company assignment girlfriend of Lee Minho. You take the chance to apply and what happens next changes your life forever.

Pairing: idol Minho x fab reader

Genre (series as a whole): fluff, angst, smut-18+ MDNI

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings (this chapter): none

Notes: Welcome to the Sign the Dotted Line series! I'm super excited to release the first chapter! Don't worry, Minho makes an appearance but it'll be much later in the chapters.

New Chapters will be released on Saturdays at 1pm CST.

If you'd like to join the tag list (for this series or general) let me know! (age must be in bio or pinned to be added).

If you like this fic, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :)

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

Next | Series Masterlist

You remember exactly where you were the day you got the email, what you were doing, how it felt outside. You remember exactly how you were feeling the day your life changed forever.

“Hmmm what should I wear to tonight?” You asked your friend Lexi. You were having a tough time picking out an outfit, both you and your friend planning to go out tonight. You both had a tough week at work, deadlines were approaching to secure a major deal and tensions were high. Now it was Friday, Lexi suggesting you both go out to take your minds off work. Of course you agreed, needing any type of distraction you could get.

“Wear that crop top with your leather skirt,” Lexi said, pulling out the clothes from your closet.

You took the outfit, agreeing with her choice. Slipping it on, you stopped in front of the mirror, making sure everything was in place. Lexi made her way to you, phone in hand.

“Selfie time!” Lexi shouted, you covering your ears at her outburst. You giggled and posed, Lexi taking multiple pictures of the two of you. Lexi’s phone dinged, notifying her that the ride share was here. You grabbed your phone and bag and followed your friend out the door, walking to and sliding into the car.

The night was filled with fun. You both danced the night away, work completely forgotten. You did have a drink or two…or four, your head fuzzy but not enough to not know where you were or make a fool of yourself. Your feet were started to hurt, the combination of hours of non-stop dancing and heels taking its toll on your poor feet. You both decided to finish dancing to the song playing and then leave.

Lexi ordered another ride share, both of you waiting outside. The fresh air was refreshing, a slight breeze blowing to cool you off. You browsed your phone, clearing out your notifications. As you were waiting, you visited your favorite band Stray Kids website, looking for any new updates. There was one new notice, asking for applications to be considered to become Lee Minho’s girlfriend. You blinked your eyes once, twice, and then read the notice again, in disbelief at the ad. This was a prank. Yes, most definitely a prank played by the company.

Tapping Lexi’s shoulder, you showed her the ad. “What?! Is this real?” She shrieked.

“Looks like it,” you said, a frown on your face. You loved Minho, he was your bias after all. How cool would it be to become his girlfriend? It’s not like you haven’t imagined this exact scenario in your dreams.

Lexi was scrolling through the notice before handing you back your phone. “You need to apply!” She said while winking at you.

“Hell no!” You said. “I’d never be picked. I mean look at me! Why would THE Lee Minho want to date me?”

“Because you’re hot as fuck,” Lexi responded laughing. “It won’t hurt. Worst case scenario is you’d never hear back from them.”

You considered your friend’s statement. She was right. Why not take the leap of faith and apply. It would be a dream come true after all. “Ok, I’ll do it,” you said right as the ride share pulled up.

“That’s my girl,” Lexi said getting in the car before you. You looked out the window the whole ride back to your place, thinking about what you were about to do. Once inside, you changed into some more comfy clothes and slipped into bed, Lexi following suit as she was staying over. You pulled up the notice once more, reading it over.

“What is it asking for?” Lexi asked, leaning over your shoulder to get a closer look.

“Besides basic information like name, birthday, they want to know my occupation, family history, of course where I live, and a background check. They’re asking more information too. It’s like they want my whole life story,” you said nervously chuckling.

“Well makes sense doesn’t it?” Lexi said yawning. “They have to make sure whoever they pick isn’t a pyscho.”

It did make sense. I’m sure they only wanted the best for Minho. Someone who could withstand dating an idol, but also probably for Minho’s safety too. You started filling out the information they wanted, hoping even just a little that you would be considered. It took you a little over an hour to finish the application in its entirety. You let out a breath after submitting the application. You looked over at Lexi to let her know you were done, but noticed she was passed out, little snores coming from her mouth as she slept.

You set your phone on its charger and turned out the lights, settling in for the night. There’s no way they would choose you let alone consider you. Right?

You felt something hit your nose again and again. You scrunched up your nose, eyes fluttering open to identify what had disturbed you from your slumber…or more so who had disturbed you. You opened your eyes to see Lexi hovering above you, booping your nose with her finger.

“Wake up,” she said as she kept booping your nose.

“Ok, ok I’m up. “ you groaned, swiping her hand away and rubbing your eyes. You sat up in bed, letting out a yawn. Lexi handed you a cup of coffee fixed exactly how you liked it. You graciously grabbed the cup, taking a sip before cradling it in your hands.

“So, did you submit the application? Am I looking at the girlfriend of Lee Minho?” She asked smirking.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m not going to be Minho’s girlfriend. There’s so many other people out there that would be better for him.”

Lexi scoffed, “please, you’d be perfect for him. Don’t put yourself down.”

You just shrugged, getting out of bed to get ready for the day. After getting dressed, you took your cup and went to sit in the living room. You checked your email, looking for any word from the company. You were trying not to get your hopes up. There’s no way they would choose you. Not in a million years.

The rest of the weekend passed, your days spent at home relaxing, and preparing yourself for another hell week at work. You hated this job with a passion, sitting at your desk all day, discussing projects and sitting in meetings. You wanted to quit, but the pay was great, allowing you to live in a decent area in town. But if someone offered you another position, you would take it in a heart beat, getting away from the constant stress and toxic workplace.

The beginning of the week came and went by quickly, your days spent at work, just to come home, eat, and pass out from exhaustion. You only had to get through one more day and then you were off. You had been checking your email daily, multiple times per day at that, looking to see if you had any emails in regard to the little application you submitted over the weekend. Each time you checked however, your hopes were squashed, your email only being filled with spam.

You made dinner, and sat in the couch propping your feet up. You let out a sigh before digging in. You went back to your phone, scrolling through social media. After eating, you sat down your plate and settled in to watch tv. The night went on, you dozing off after a hard day.

You woke up with a start, looking around to see where you were before realizing you were safe at home. Rubbing your eyes, you got up from the couch and walked to your bedroom and got into bed. you checked your phone before setting it down for the night and noticed you had a new email. The title was in Korean and your breath hitched a little. Clicking on the email, you held your breath as you read the words in front of you.

They wanted to interview you tomorrow if possible before advancing you further in the process. Looking at the time they requested would be right toward the end of your work day. You’d have to step away for the video chat. You were more than happy to do so. You replied with a yes and set your phone down, closing your eyes to sleep and dream of the possibilities in your future .

The next morning, Lexi stopped by, coffee in hand so you could go to work together. You were giddy, practically bouncing on your feet, as you scampered through your apartment to finish getting ready for work. Your friend noticed something was up. You were never this happy to go to work or this happy in the morning period.

“Ok, what gives? Why are you so happy?” Your friend asked you, watching as you turned away to hide your face. You continued fixing your lunch, a smile on your face.

“So I checked my email last night before bed and um I got an email from the company asking to do a video interview today. “ you continued to prep your lunch, waiting for your friend’s reaction.

“Holy shit really?” She said, clapping her hands in excitement. “See I told you! You’re a catch, I knew they’d be interested.” You turned to face Lexi, a huge grin on your face.

“What time is the interview?”

“8am Korea time so 6pm our time. I’ll be working late today, so I’ll have to find somewhere to sit for the interview.”

Lexi nodded, “well you could always use the conference room. It’ll be empty by then.”

You shook your head in agreement. Making sure you had all your stuff for the day, you looked at friend and said, “ready?”

Lexi sighed, “no not really, but don’t have a choice do I?”

You grinned, grabbing your keys, “nope!”

Work was hell per usual, your day filled with answering calls and working on projections. You were stressed, every client you dealt with today must have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed, because everyone was pissy. But, the hours dragged on, the office buzzing as everyone worked on their various projects.

It was getting closer to 6pm so you grabbed your laptop and pulled up the video invite, making sure everything was ready for when the time comes. Satisfied, you picked up the laptop and made your way to the conference room, shutting the door behind you. You took a seat and made sure everything looked ok around you as well as made sure your outfit was fixed, wanting to make a good impression. At least you could look good if nothing else.

You logged in and waited for whoever to enter the meeting room. At exactly 6pm, someone popped up on screen. She was really pretty, long black hair cascading down past her shoulders, with light makeup on to accentuate her features. She smiled at you before speaking in Korean. Shit, you thought, you didn’t know anything in Korean besides hello and I love you.

You felt stupid as you politely stopped her before saying, “Im sorry, I don’t speak Korean.”

She looked taken aback for a moment. Great, you thought. She’s probably thinking why would you apply for this if you couldn’t even speak the language. You felt your face getting hot, embarrassed at this setback. However, the woman just smiled and apologized, this time in English. You let out a breath, happy that she didn’t think you were crazy…at least she didn’t show it.

Despite the little hiccup in the beginning, the rest of the interview went well. She asked you a ton of questions about yourself and your personality. She also inquired about your job and asked about details for that. You felt exposed, sharing things that even your best friend would most likely not know. She also asked you how you deal with pressure, which you answered to the best of your ability. You had some experience with how to deal with pressure in your current job, so it was helpful when you came up with a response for her. She also ran through scenarios with you, such as what would you do if people spoke not so kindly about you online or what would you do if paparazzi came up to you and started asking questions about Stray Kids. Of course you had no experience with this type of situation, so you just came up with the best answer you could, answering as truthfully as you could.

For over an hour, you sat there and answered question after question. At the end of the interview, she informed you they would run a thorough background check on you and would notify you if they want you to proceed. You thanked her for her time and said goodbye, shutting your laptop and leaning back in your chair. You took a deep breath and let it out, happy that was over with. That was more nerve wracking than the interview you had for your current job.

You gathered your stuff and exited the conference room, making your way back to your cubicle. Lexi was sitting in your chair waiting for you, no doubt ready to ask you how the interview went. You shook your head indicating not here and packed up your stuff to go home. Lexi got the hint and nodded, leaving to go pack her stuff up as well. You both left the building, making your way to the subway.

After walking a while you told Lexi all that occurred during the interview, how you were asked lots of questions and what she told you before ending the call.

“Whew, that’s a lot y/n. I get it though. She has to know your whole life story if you’re going to go on to date an idol.”

You nodded, agreeing with your friend. You secretly hoped you would get to the next step, but only time would tell. You parted ways with Lexi once you got to your stop, saying goodbye. You were happy it was the weekend as you were more than ready to do nothing and just rot on the couch.

Once back home, you got ready for bed, snuggling into your blankets, happy to be home. You closed your eyes and dreamed of sweet dates with a man, holding hands while walking down the street, going on picnics with him. The man was Minho, your mind already keen on the idea of dating him. You slept soundly that night, content with your dreams.

The weekend passed quickly, as they often do. It was Sunday night once again, and you were cleaning up your apartment, when you got a notification on your phone. You picked up your phone to check it, thinking it was probably Lexi, but you noticed it was a new email. You opened up the notification, quickly skimming over the contents of said email. What you read made you drop the towel you were holding. You read and then reread the email.

They picked you. You were to be Minho’s girlfriend. You were in shock, but also super happy. You did a little dance around your apartment, too happy to stay still. After a mini celebration, you called Lexi to share the good news. She was ecstatic for you, joining in on your celebration.

“So what’s next? What do you have to do?” Lexi asked once you both calmed down some.

“It looks like I have to fly out to Korea in 2 weeks to officially start my role…” your voice fading out with the realization how soon that would be. You would have to put your notice in for your job tomorrow and start packing up your stuff. It was definitely going to be a busy two weeks.

“Well you know I’ll help you. Damn, that means you’ll be in a whole other country.” Lexi said. “I’ll miss my bestie.”

“I’ll miss you too! But we can always talk and video chat!”

Lexi agreed, “you better!”

You chatted with your friend for a little longer before hanging up to get ready for bed. It was a normal workday tomorrow after all. You could hardly sleep though that night, your brain stuck on the fact that your life was about to drastically change in the next few weeks.

The day had arrived for your flight to Korea. Lexi went with you to the airport to see you off. You gave her a big hug. You were going to miss your friend, but would try to fly her out so she could visit once you were settled.

“Let me know when you land ok?” Lexi said. Her eyes were glossy and you could tell she was trying not to cry. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“Me too,” you said, trying not to cry yourself.

Right then, an announcement overhead announced that your flight would be boarding soon. You sighed, giving your friend one last big hug, before grabbing your bags and walking to the gate to board. Once your ticket was scanned, you looked at your friend once more and gave her a wave before walking down ramp to get to the plane. This is it. You were really going to Korea to date an idol. You settled in your seat for a long flight.

You slept most of the way, exhaustion from the last few days catching up to you. You had landed a while ago and had retrieved your suitcase. You made your way outside, looking for the company car that had been sent to fetch you. Locating the car, you slid in looking out the window at the unfamiliar city around you. It was busy, the workday having just started.

The car brought you to the company building, pulling up to the curb. The driver got out to help you out of the car. You thanked the man before walking through the front door. You showed your email to the security guard at the front desk. He nodded and made a call, presumably to the manager of Stray Kids. He motioned for you to sit, which you did.

A few minutes later, the same woman who interviewed you walked toward you, extending her hand out to shake yours.

“Y/n,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you in person. Was your flight ok?”

“Nice to meet you,” you responded. “It was a nice flight, thank you.”

She smiled at you before gesturing toward the elevators. “Shall we?”

You nodded and grabbed your bag before following her to the elevators. She punched the number five and stepped back, the both of you standing in silence as the elevator ascended. Once on the floor, she motioned for you to follow her.

“So you can drop your stuff in my office. We’ll go over some logistics. Have you look over and sign the contract and then you can meet Minho.”

You were taking in the halls around you, while trying to listen. “Ok, sounds good,” you said. You both came to a door, before she pushed it open, allowing you to step into the room first. She pointed to a chair in front of a desk. You took a seat and waited for her to speak. She briefed you on your role, which was to be the company appointed girlfriend to Lee Minho, one of the members to Stray Kids. You were to serve your role for a minimum of two years and at that time the contract could be extended or terminated. She went over some other things as well, before handing you the contract to sign.

You took the paper and pen she handed to you, took a deep breath and signed your name on the line. It was official, you were Minho’s girlfriend….at least on paper.

“Well are you ready to meet Minho?” She asked you.

You swallowed before meekly saying yes, your nerves getting the best of you. What if you made a fool of yourself? What if he laughed at you and thought you a joke? Your mind went through a million questions, not noticing that the manager had left.

A few minutes later, she walked back into the office, a man in tow. He had on gray sweat pants and a white t-shirt on. In all his glory, Minho stood before you. You were speechless.

The manager looked between you two before saying, “Minho this is y/n. She will be your company appointed girlfriend. I’ll leave you for a moment to get acquainted.”

You watched as she walked out the door, softly closing it behind her. You looked from the door to Minho, his eyes trained on you and…was that a scowl? He didn’t look happy to see you, but that couldn’t be it right? He didn’t know you enough to hate you right?

Taking a breath, you decided to suck it up and introduce yourself. “Hi Minho, I’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you! I hope we’ll get along well.” You said with a smile on your face. Minho just looked at you, his eyes hardened. The man was glaring at you and it was making you uncomfortable. You had no clue what to do or say. Despite this, you were not prepared for the words that would come out of his mouth as he continued to glare at you.

“I don’t need you, you should go back home.”

You watched as he turned on his heels and walked out the door, leaving you standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

Well shit, you thought. This is going to be fun….not.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @thesilvernight0wl @armystay89

[starboyyoongi]

heated. ateez au

⭑ summary: your team only had one rule and that was to never kidnap a civilian. wooyoung, jongho, mingi, and yunho find themselves narrowly escaping death after you find out that they broke said rule.

or, in which things take a turn for the worse when four men kidnap a civilian and they have to face the consequences.

⭑ pairing: ateez (ot8) x black female!reader

⭑ warnings/tags: cursing, gang au, reader is leader/boss of the gang, kidnapping, angst, mentions of murder, gets funny and crack-ish towards the end, ???? to crush, mingi acts as san’s wingman

⭑ notes: i worked on this in my notes app on and off for like a week or so. i did proofread this, but there may still be mistakes don’t kill me please. feel free to leave your thoughts and enjoy! xx

TO SAY THAT you were going to be pissed was an understatement.

what would usually be a noisy car ride back home was now eerily quiet. no one had uttered a word since they had gotten in the car and started the dreaded hour long drive. you often praised the boys for their kind hearted nature despite their jobs and how intense could be at times. they were the water to your fire; the yin to your yang. years of friendship, loyalty, and working with together proved that.

maybe that’s why tonight they had done what was the unthinkable and kept telling themselves that it would be okay. they hoped that the soft spot you had for all of them would override any anger that you may have towards them. it was total bullshit of course, but for the next hour they chose to believe it.

san was completely unaware of the heavy tension in the car. after all, his hands were tied and he had been ordered to stay quiet. his head was swimming with a million and one thoughts. how did he go from handing out bags full of books to customers to being sandwiched between two men who hadn’t said anything past “be quiet” to him? san wanted to kick and scream, do anything that could possibly get him out of this situation, but he couldn’t.

he was terrified to say the least.

san took a look around the car. aside from the two men he was in between, there were two more upfront. one was driving and the other was in the passenger seat. he didn’t know either of their names, but he supposed that it wasn’t important. there was a good chance that he was going to die soon anyways. out of his peripheral vision, he could see the man on his right’s jaw clench and unclench every couple of seconds. that couldn’t mean anything good. san gulped a little before turning his attention to the man seated on the other side of him.

unlike the man on the right, he seemed to be lost in thought. he kept alternating between picking at his fingers and running them through his already messy black hair. the car slowly came to a stop just as the light changed from yellow to red. the man in the driver’s seat was the first to break the silence.

“she’s going to fucking kill us.”

“thanks for stating the obvious, yunho,” the man in the passenger seat said in a sarcastic tone. “anything else you wanna mention? maybe tell us how she’s going to skin us alive?”

“or shoot us in the head instead” the man to san’s left chimed in.

yunho let out a frustrated sigh as the light turned green. as the four men began to converse with one another, san couldn’t help but feel awkward. it’s like he was invisible to them. which sort of made sense seeing as how he didn’t know the four of them and vice versa. plus, he had been kidnapped for fuck sakes. of course they were going to ignore his presence.

san watched as the four men bickered with one another and threw out insults every now and then, eventually figuring out who was who. mingi was on his right, wooyoung was on his left, yunho was the one who was driving, and jongho was in the passenger seat.

the four men’s looks didn’t go unnoticed by san either. all of them were very attractive to say the least and san couldn’t help but wonder what they were doing in a gang. mingi alone looked like he was straight out of an issue of vogue.

with a jawline like that he can make some lucky brand millions. shit, all four of them can if they wanted to, san thought to himself.

“what excuse are we going to come up with anyways? you guys got any ideas?” wooyoung asked, cutting through san’s thoughts.

upon hearing his question, the others fell silent.

truth be told, none of them had really thought that far. as dumb as it sounded, they were kind of banking on years of friendship to get them through this mess. but deep down they knew that it wasn’t going to work.

kidnapping civilians wasn’t you guys’s thing—at all. and everyone on the team knew that. it was always advised against and avoided as much as possible. kidnapping civilians meant that you guys had an extra person (or people) to be responsible for which also meant that there was going to be more problems for everyone involved which also meant that shit was most likely going to go south.

and they knew this. all four of them knew this yet they still decided to take san with them and shove him into their car.

in other words, they were fucked.

“so, um,” san awkwardly cleared his throat as he began to speak. “when are you guys going to let me go? i’d like it if you guys would let me go back home in one piece, please.”

“we can’t.” jongho answered immediately as he met san’s curious gaze in the rear view mirror.

san furrowed his eyebrows, clearly not understanding what jongho had said. “what do you mean that you can’t? you just said that you’re going to get in trouble for taking– i mean, kidnapping me. wouldn’t letting me go make things easier?”

“contrary to what you may think, that would actually fuck things up even more,” mingi said. “if we let you go now there’s a chance that you’re going to go to the police and tell them everything and we can’t have that happening.”

“i won’t go to the police. i promise.”

“you were a witness to a violent shoot out, kidnapped by the four of us, and you know what all of us look like.”

san opened his mouth to rebuttal, but mingi held his hand up as he continued, “you’re also an employee where this entire thing took place. even if you don’t go to the police, they’re going to come to you and there’s no guarantee that you’re going to say quiet.”

“if you’re saying that i’m going to crack under pressure or something then i won’t” san said almost a little too confidently.

mingi rolled his eyes and sighed. “the police in seoul don’t give a shit about whether or not you won’t crack under pressure. they’re going to make you talk whether you like it or not.”

at that, san hummed in response.

mingi was right. he’s never had a brush with the law before, but he knew enough to know there was some truth to what mingi was saying. the police in seoul were known for being ruthless and corrupt. even if san did decide to stay quiet, he knew that it wouldn’t do him any favors. someone was bound to get whatever answer they wanted out of him by any means necessary.

“so… what? you’re just going to drive around with me or something?” san asked to no one in particular.

“no,” yunho said as he came to another stop light. he took a slight pause before he continued. “we’re taking you to our boss.”

⭑ ⭑ ⭑ ⭑

as soon as san stepped through the elevator doors, he heard someone lowly whistle. he looked forward to see a somewhat short, pink haired man staring at him and the others with a disappointed look on his face.

“you guys are fucked,” he chuckled. his gaze lingered on san for a few seconds longer before he turned on his heel and began walking towards the kitchen. “so, so fucked.”

mingi loudly sighed and mumbled something under his breath that san couldn’t quite catch. he was too busy trying to wrap his head around the fact that he was standing in someone’s very expensive and very well furnished penthouse.

he’d never felt so poor in his entire life.

as wooyoung pushed him along to the living room, san couldn’t help but feel like he was in some magazine. from the floors to the carefully placed art pieces on the walls to the giant television that sat on the wall, everything felt so rich and so opulent. he’d never seen anything like it.

once they had reached the massive living space, wooyoung pushed san onto one of the two couches and told him to wait. san opened his mouth to say something, but wooyoung was already wandering off somewhere else.

meanwhile in the kitchen, yunho was telling his pink haired friend how everything in the last two hours had went down. by the time he was finished, the man was staring at him in disbelief. he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“i don’t know, yunho… i don’t think that she’s going to let this slide. on top of that, you brought him to her house of all places” hongjoong said with a raise of his eyebrow.

“i know,” yunho groaned. “but i didn’t know where else to take him. plus i figured that she should see him for herself.”

“why? so she can kill him, too?”

yunho gave his friend a pointed look. “she’s not going to kill him. or us. i think.”

“you think? yeah, you guys are definitely fucked. do you prefer cremation or open casket?”

“oh, fuck you.”

hongjoong laughed as he took a swig of his drink then said, “i know you want to, babe. what time should i be over at yours?”

“you cheeky son of a bitch” yunho laughed as he took a sip of his own drink.

hongjoong smiled as if to say ‘that’s me’ before he started to do a sweep over of the place. just as he was about to focus his attention back on yunho, he spotted a familiar figure entering the room. he cleared his throat and placed his drink on the counter before raising his voice a little to say,

“hey, boss.”

at those words, the room came to a halt. all eyes were on you as you made eye contact with a visibly tense and frightened san. nervously, he stood up and slightly bowed his head towards you. he had no idea what he was supposed to do, but if you were truly the boss like yunho said you were then he was going to act accordingly. after all, you were standing between death and him living to see another day.

you held eye contact with san for what seemed like forever before gesturing for yunho, wooyoung, jongho, and mingi to come forward. you walked over to the couch opposite from the one san had been occupying and sat down. you leaned back and rested one of your arms on the back of the couch. the casualness of your form was a stark contrast to the obvious anger that was radiating off of your body.

all four men stood in front of you and it was clear from how they were avoiding making eye contact that something was wrong. san, much like hongjoong, looked on in curiosity. he didn’t know any of these men personally, but how they acted in the car an hour ago was a far cry to how they were acting now. they looked scared, terrified even, and you hadn’t even said anything to them yet.

“what happened?” you asked, an eerily calmness to your voice.

“we ran into an… issue so to speak during our mission,” yunho answered. “we weren’t exactly sure what to do seeing as how there’s a chance that san might go to the police. so we brought him here.”

“an issue? what was the issue? because to me, it seems like the issue is still present.”

yunho opened his mouth to respond, but jongho beat him to it and began to explain what happened just a few hours earlier. it was evident to everyone, jongho included, that you were not pleased with what you were hearing. the tick of your jaw and the angry look on your face was more than enough to make jongho falter in his words a few times and make everyone in the room tense up. when you looked to wooyoung and mingi for answers, all you got was silence in return. neither of them wanted to say anything out of fear of further angering you.

your eyes flickered between the four men and san. you let out a deep sigh and shook your head before you started to laugh. it was the type of laugh that completely void of any humor—one that they (and anyone who crossed you) had heard one too many times to count.

“i asked you to do one fucking thing. and not only do you go against my orders, you also have the audacity to bring this shit to my doorstep,” there was an edge to your voice as you spoke. “and what, you expected me to pat you on the back and say that it’s okay? that you did a good job? do you have any idea what you four have done?”

“boss, we didn’t mean to cause any problems on purpose. please, if you allow us to—” wooyoung’s words were cut off almost instantly.

since he was standing only a few feet away from you, it took you all of five seconds to walk towards him and wrap your hand around his throat in a tight grip. wooyoung’s hands immediately flew up to grab your arm, but he made no move to remove your hand. your head tilted to the side as you watched him start to struggle to breathe. your grip tightened as you brought your face close to his and continued to speak.

“do you really think that i give a fuck about what you have to say to me right now? huh?”

“n-no, boss. i’m sorry.”

“i should put a bullet right in between your fucking eyes. all five of you.”

“b-boss, please,” wooyoung choked out. “we didn’t mean to c-cause any harm. he didn’t deserve to get h-hurt.”

you let out a breathy laugh and squeezed his neck even tighter. “whatever fate he was going to face would have been ten times better than what he’s about to face right now. did you really think that bringing him here was going to go well?”

this time, you glanced at the other three who were anxiously watching the scene unfold in front of them. this was not how they had expected things to go. they knew that you would be angry, but this was beyond that; you were furious.

“yeosang.”

at the sound of his name being called, the long haired man quietly walked towards you and placed a gun in your now open palm. without hesitation, you held it right up to the side of wooyoung’s head. his eyes widened and he gripped your arm tightly, almost as if he was trying to get you to not pull the trigger.

from the corner of your eye, you could see mingi step forward, mouth opened and ready to speak. but with one look from you, he froze in his steps. hongjoong, jongho, and yunho on the other hand continued to look on in fear. in all their years of working with you they’d never seen you this angry before. the boys had their fair share of fuck ups, sure, but it’s never gotten to this point before.

this type of energy was usually reserved for those who crossed you—not for them and especially not for wooyoung.

although no one said it out loud, they were all wondering the same thing: were you really going to kill wooyoung over a mistake like this?

fuck it, hongjoong thought to himself before he finally spoke up. “this is too far, boss. i don’t think that you should do this.”

you gritted your teeth before replying, “i didn’t ask for your opinion, kim. keep your fucking mouth shut.”

“no,” hongjoong said with a slight raise of his voice. “you’re about to make a mistake. i know that they fucked up, but would you really go as far as killing wooyoung? one of your own?”

hongjoong’s question hung in the air as the room fell silent once more. everyone waited with baited breath for your response.

to the others, it didn’t seem like you’d be backing down. your incredibly tight grip around wooyoung’s throat never loosened and your gun remained in the same place, finger lightly pressed against the trigger. it felt like any second now that their friend’s blood and brains were going to decorate your floors and walls.

but that’s when wooyoung saw it.

he saw the way your body tensed up immediately at hongjoong’s words and how the look on your face began to falter. he saw how the look in your eyes changed from pure anger to regret or something awfully close to it. and he definitely saw how you were contemplating hongjoong’s words and perhaps your actions, too altogether.

and even though he could hardly breathe and tears were forming in his eyes at the thought of being so close to death, wooyoung knew.

and you knew that he knew.

you held his gaze for a few seconds longer before you released him from your grip. wooyoung immediately fell to floor coughing and trying to take in deep breaths. hongjoong immediately rushed over to make sure that he was okay as mingi, yunho, and jongho breathed out a sigh of relief. mingi glanced over at san who had been watching the entire time from a mere few feet away.

he stood there frozen in place, eyes never leaving your form and mingi suddenly found himself feeling bad for the man. in just two hours, his life had been turned completely upside down and he almost witnessed someone dying in front of him. mingi then briefly wondered what his fate was going to be. he secretly hoped that he would live to see another day.

just as he began to move towards san, you grabbed him by his wrist and stopped him.

in a low tone, you said, “i’ll arrange for seonghwa to take san home. the four of you are going to stay here tonight. we’re not done yet.”

you let his wrist go then stepped past him and muttered something in yeosang’s ear. he nodded before you placed the gun back in his hand and disappeared down the hallway, presumably back to your room.

mingi let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding before he made his way over to san.

“hey,” he said, snapping san out of his thoughts. “it looks like you can go home now. someone is going to come and get you.”

san blinked incredulously. “someone’s taking me home? i can go home?”

mingi nodded in response.

relieved, san blew out a breath and rubbed his hands over his face. seeing that they were still bound together, mingi began to untie the rope. it took no longer than ten seconds to do so since the knot wasn’t tied too tightly.

“so,” san said as he rubbed at his wrists. “does this mean that she won’t kill me? or is someone going to finish the job later on?”

mingi awkwardly rubbed the side of his neck, unsure of what to say. “i don’t know. if she didn’t kill wooyoung then… maybe she won’t kill you either.”

“good. it’d be a damn shame if i died before we could go on our date.”

mingi looked at san in disbelief. there’s no way that he heard that right.

did he?

“i’m sorry, what? what do you mean by dat–“

“i think that your boss is hot,” san said rather bluntly. “and even though she scares the fuck out of me and nearly killed someone, i have to admit that a part of me liked seeing her like that.”

“you liked seeing her… like that? you do know that you were her next target, right?”

“yeah, but now i’m not. which means that i can ask her out. do you know what places she likes going to by any chance?”

“you can’t afford them anyways so it makes no sense telling you. but, are you– you’re being serious right now? you want to date her? after all of that?”

“yes.”

“your positive? absolutely sure?”

“yes. of course i am.”

“jesus fucking christ…” mingi mumbled before he groaned out loud.

he did not get paid enough for this shit.

(that was a lie. he gets paid more than enough actually).

“san? let’s go!” mingi heard seonghwa call out from across the room. he briefly turned around to give the older man a smile, which he returned, before turning back to san.

san gave mingi a smile before he leaned in and said, “i’ll leave my number with seonghwa is it? yeah. text me her number and stuff when you get the chance to.”

“are you fucking stu–“ mingi began to ask, but his words fell on deaf ears as san walked away from him.

he watched as the two men exchanged a few words before they walked towards the elevator together. mingi couldn’t help but crack a smile. san was bold. way too bold for his own good, but he had to admit that it was impressive to see.

and in some weird way, he wanted to see how things would play out. a part of him felt like it was going to end horribly, but the other part of him felt like maybe some good could come out of the situation.

“good luck, san…” mingi mumbled to himself. “you’re gonna need it.”

⭑ ⭑ ⭑ ⭑

TWO WEEKS LATER

“i’ll see you tomorrow!” san called out to his coworker.

pushing through the bookstore’s double glass doors, san breathed in the crisp spring air. his shift was finally over and he couldn’t be any happier. as he fished his car keys out of his pocket, he went through his notifications that had piled up throughout the day.

as he swiped away a few emails and promotional offers from one of the many food apps that he had, his phone buzzed with a new text notification. he glanced at the message and tilted his head in confusion at the mysterious person’s number written in bold letters followed by a hey.

he hummed and opened the notification before he started to type out a response. a new message came in a few seconds later, this time with a number and a name attached.

04-xxxx-xxxx

hey

04-xxxx-xxxx

i still think that it’s a bad idea but my boss’s number is 01-xxxx-xxxx. oh and this is mingi btw

san

how do i know that you aren’t setting me up?

mingi

you already did that to yourself when you decided to crush on my boss of all people

good luck dummy

try not to die btw. i don’t get paid extra for cleaning up your remains

[dragonmaiden39point5]

No Escape (1)

Been working on this for months, was a one shot but now it's not. Lol. As usual hope you enjoy.

All characters depicted are over the age of 18.

Summary: You grow tired of Bakugo's bad behavior and after 4 years as a couple, you make a run for it.

Katsuki Bakugo x Black!Reader

Darkfic. Stalking, humiliation, dub-con, mild Daddy!kink. Potentially some untagged triggers.

@palettesofrenaissance as requested I am tagging you on my first part!

The stars had abandoned the sky, leaving the night black as pitch. The bladed edge of the cold air sliced at your ashen skin as you shuffled through woods. Here amongst the silent, barren trees, you were safe-- Far from the disaster of turbulence that was your relationship.

Katsuki was not right for you, a fact that you realized all too late after you were already involved. He didn't come on super strong when he first asked you out; He honestly had behaved as if he could've cared less if you were interested. However, within weeks of that first date, he was blowing up your phone with calls and texts every second of the day. It was cute-- even endearing at first, but as the honeymoon phase ceased, it was beyond overbearing.

With no regard for when you were at work, he was ceaseless in his seemingly sudden obsession. When you finally did hang out, he was all over you in near desperation, yearning for your completely undivided attention. It felt like you were suffocating as he consistently crowded your space and cut out all of the people in your life that mattered. You're not even entirely sure when you moved in with him. More and more of your stuff just kept turning up at his house, until he 'convinced' you not to go back to your apartment.

The clingy attachment got worse after you yielded to the pressure of living with him. You weren't allowed to keep a code on your phone anymore and only hung out with people he knew personally (most of which looked as if they wanted to go into a rut when they saw you). These things weren't something you took quietly though. There were countless screaming matches and arguments, all of which ended with him taking advantage of your heightened emotions and fucking you stupid across the nearest surface or piece of furniture after you had given up and started crying (you weren't exactly proud of that fact).

The highest point of contention after you'd yielded everywhere else, had been your job. His parents died and left an unspeakable amount of trust-fund money, so he didn't work which (to him) meant you shouldn't either. Plus, with you being in real estate, he outright said that he didn't want you, "Dressing up to be surrounded by a bunch of low-life bastards." There was also, the fact that you could ride around sometimes one or two towns over for hours ignoring him-- which especially caused him grief.

His solution was to track your car, stalking your every move when you left the house and actively attempting to make you quit. At one point he'd slashed all four tires of your car while you showed a house so that of course, you had to call him to pick you up. A different time, you took a (male) client and his son out to lunch to show him what the local attractions were like, and you went outside to a kicked in windshield, as well as all 4 windows busted out. Not even the sideview mirrors were spared.

Your management team was able to turn a blind eye those times and let you lie and claim random acts of vandalism or mistaken identity, especially with all the love you got from clients and other customers alike. However, not to be defeated, Bakugo upped the ante and had his buddy from the police force send SWAT to a house that you were doing a walkthrough on. They kicked in the doors and windows with guns and helicopters claiming that they received an active shooter notice for the address. You had been scared shitless, that is until the SWAT team carried you out and you saw Iida suited up, looking completely unbothered despite the 'severity' of the situation. He actually lit a cigarette and subjected you to an entirely unnecessary, way-too-thorough body search behind one of the police cruisers. Seconds later a familiar orange mustang with orange rims drove by and you knew what was going on. Luckily, the police presence spared you from being fired, as management had believed there was real danger. (The event was breaking news and blocked traffic for hours).

With that one having backfired and you crying and throwing a fit, he bought you a dog to 'apologize' though he never actually said the words. He later proceeded to double down on arguments about you quitting your job and broke your phone. Of course he ended up replacing it with a fancier more expensive one-- But you soon realized that it had only the contacts of people that had earned his approval and a monitoring software.

It was never ending with him, but trying to leave or break up face to face only made him hold you hostage until you promised not to leave. After waking up handcuffed to the headboard the last time you tried that, you chose not to try it again.

💥💥💥💥💥

Meanwhile, hard work and dedication (and screaming matches with your boyfriend) afforded you the senior salesperson promotion, meaning you were one step from a sales management position. With this title under your belt, you could step into a leadership role with more freedom than before.

To build reputation and show management potential, you were given the chance to sell a house of your choice and then would go through a shadowing and training process, meaning you were about 6-8 months shy of your dream position if everything worked out okay.

You'd spotted the perfect property and bought it on behalf of the company. There hadn't been too much confidence in it due to its age compared to other homes in the area, but with the right renovations and staging, and a well advertised open house, buyers would flock; that much was certain.

Late nights, early mornings, a dozen gallons of coffee. There was nothing your heart desired more than for the success of this house-- the success of you. It would be perfect and even set a new standard for open house events within the company.

There were unfortunately several out of budget expenses, like hiring a caterer and setting up before and after photoshoots for the property. The cost of landscaping had gone over due to several rotted tree removals, and sod placement for quite a bit of the back and side yards. There was also no way you were going to fill in the inground pool, which would become a major selling point after fixing it's disgusting condition. Repiping, rewiring, new insulation, trash removal (it was previously a hoarder's house), and a pool remodel... Everyone warned you about taking on a foreclosure sight-unseen for your first solo reno, but in your excitement, you tended to be exceedingly ambitious and with no HOA there were no limits.

At this point your job was the only thing you had control over, the only thing that gave you relief. And as you nitpicked yourself to a perfectionist's standard, your boyfriend remained oddly quiet. He actually volunteered his own money so it didn't look to anyone that you had technically far exceeded the company budget. The words of encouragement he offered while you worked were foreign, but you appreciated not having to fight when you were so tired. He was acting all warm and supportive like everything mattered to him so much..

💥💥💥💥💥

The house had turned out incredibly. Inside and out, there was no sign of the safety hazard that it had been, only an amazing dwelling that would belong to a happy family, hopefully in the near future. Before leaving home, you checked that all of your equipment was fully charged and ready to go: Laptop, tablet, phone, and USB that contained all the photographers pictures and video edits of the newly revived property.

Bakugo had a prior engagement and would be at the grand opening of his friend Midoriya's gym (a timing overlap that was very intentional on your part), though he would be dropping you off to the open house. The ride was silent, but not due to the aftermath of a huge argument; it was because something was up with Bakugo. All of his body language read that he was on edge, frequently tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. He only behaved this way when there was something on his mind.

"You good, Kats? You look really tense."

He smiled gleefully before glancing your way with sharp red eyes. "I'm alright."

"Aight then." You shrugged. "Make the next right and the place is at the other end of the street, on the cor-"

"I know where it is."

"Of course you do." You sighed, throwing your hands up.

Pulling up to your destination a few minutes later, you got out of the car and Bakugo followed suit. Grabbing your bag for you, he stood on the sidewalk for a moment.

"Wow." He commented, admiring the property. "Way to turn this shithole around. Nice job."

"Uh, Thank you." You smirked, heat creeping up your cheeks. "You look surprised."

"Well, I haven't followed you in like a month. Been busy helping Deku with his shitty new hires."

You sighed, rolling your eyes. It wasn't like you didn't know that he did it, but you preferred he not mention the stalking.

Showing Bakugo around the inside, you wanted to make sure that everything was in place for guests. Design wise, it was perfect; Every accent wall on the first level of the house had the same pattern which became the theme for the furniture colors and pillows. The upstairs followed the same trend, just with a different color/pattern combination. The curtains for each level were in the respective opposite color of the accent walls-- But it was the little details that mattered, so you went from room to room spraying air freshener and placing a scented candle in each; it combatted the smell of recently dried paint. You also needed to sit out the gift bags that had your business card and number tucked within and set up the projector so that it linked to your laptop.

Bakugo was actually impressed and would've stayed to watch you all day (his own words) but he had to leave for Izuku's event. Meanwhile, the caterers had arrived and were putting together shrimp cocktails and hors d'oeuvres, in time for the early bird guests showing up.

It didn't take long before a steady stream of potential buyers filled the property. They were encouraged to mingle and look around on their own or join in as you gave a tour with details about the artwork on the walls, insulation, and the re-pipe/rewire. One of your assistants also helped you to do a live stream showing each room, while another managed the gift card raffle, and the third made sure that every single guest left with a gift bag.

The event went on for roughly 2.5 to 3 hours, which you were on your feet networking for the duration of. You'd picked up 4 more potential buyers for a few different properties after chatting up countless people, as well as several who wanted this one. A bidding war was most certainly on the horizon.

For everyone that stayed to the end, a film reel of before and after shots was assembled. You and your co-workers had the remaining people gather in the media room of the home, where the projector had been set up at. "Alrighty ladies and gentlemen! This will be the final act of our showing. We will put on display what each room looked like before the transformation, with side-by-side images recapping the final product you've seen here today-- The point of which is to highlight just how hard earned the beauty of this house is, and why it would be perfect to live and raise your beloved family in."

The video came on in clear, perfect hi-resolution, starting with a series of credits for all the companies involved in the renovation of the property (clean up, photography, landscaping, pool fix etc). In the meantime you slipped out of the room and down the hallway, heading to the mother-in-law suite on the front side of the house and closing the door. You wanted a hair and makeup touch-up before it was time to shake hands and say goodbye.

Pushing your blazer off and stepping out of your heels you went and opened the chest of drawers to pull out your tote bag. Out of habit, the first thing you did was grab your phone but strangely enough, there was only one text message from Katsuki awaiting you from about half an hour after the open house had started. "Made it."Was all it said. You hummed curiously, tossing it on the bed in favor of your makeup bag, flats, and spray bottle. It was severely, out of character for him, but you had to worry about closing out the evening.

💥💥💥💥💥

The audience sat politely through the first minute or two of the presentation. It consisted of the credentials and numbers for the separate business entities that collaborated on the house. Completely normal.

However--

Things took a turn for the worst just moments later after you stepped out.

The screen went black for about 5-10 seconds and the gruff voice of a male could be heard in the background. When the image on the screen resumed, it was of a man in peak physical condition from the chin down, proud erection sitting between toned thighs as he stroked it rapidly. There was a plain black band on his left ring finger with a diamond studded behemoth on the middle one. He had a sleeve of colorful tattoos and spider bite piercings under the right corner of his mouth ."I love these little tantrums you throw, Baby." He grunted through his teeth. "Gets me so fucken hard when you act like a spoiled brat..." He stopped stroking with his hand and began to thrust fiercely into it instead. "But no matter how mad you get..." He said, breathing ragged and labored, "You'll always belong to Daddy." He moaned, shooting his load straight up, allowing it to land on his incredible abs.

It felt like an eternity for those watching, but the clip was less than 20 seconds long. Some astounded viewers quickly vacated, while others lingered feigning disgust, gasps and whispers.

But not one of your coworkers-- the so-called 'work family' moved to stop it, even as the next clip started immediately.

This one was of the same man, face still obscured, but from the point of view of the woman he was on top of; you. The camera seemed to have been recording from just above your head and tilted downward, so your face wasn't showing either. It was likely placed in the headboard.

Length buried fully into you, with your legs wrapped around his waist, his usual tone was down to a gritty pur. "Shit girl... I fucking love when you act like this...You want Daddy to make you cum?"

Your hands ran up his arms as you pulled him down flush against you. "Yes please.." you whimpered from beneath him.

"Louder." He hissed biting your neck.

"--Yes, please Daddy! Make me cum!"

"Hehehe...Of course.." He pulled completely out for a moment and you began to protest.

"Wait, please, I--" you whined, before he soothed you:

"It's alright Baby Girl, just hold on."

Pushing your knees up to your chest so that your ankles were on his shoulders and getting into a kneeling position, he sunk into your tight pussy from a new angle-- both of you groaning unified bliss. Suddenly, his pace was fast, breathing labored as he fucked into your wet hole.

That's what you saw when you were finally coming back from your bathroom break-- just in time to look down the corridor that opened up into the media room and see yourself squealing in delight as you squirted all over your boyfriend.

It was so astonishing you stopped dead in your tracks, staring confusedly down the hallway for a minute as you tried to figure out what you were seeing and why. A vicious pang of sadness struck your heart as tears began to ruin your freshly redone make-up.

Meanwhile, a third clip started-- This one with you standing, facing the camera from the neck down, with Bakugo sitting behind you on the edge of the bed. There could've been plausible deniability that this wasn't you, that this was a data breach of some sort and the computer had been hacked-- but right there, dangling between your gorgeous bouncing titties-- was the necklace that currently adorned you. It was too distinctive, (a diamond studded hand-grenade with a flash behind it, engraved with the date you and Bakugo met) and you wore it every day.

Less than 2 minutes of footage, had effectively ruined your entire professional life.

Had you not been afraid of someone keeping or distributing this imagery, you would've marched right out of the front door and never looked back. Instead, you dragged your feet the rest of the way down the hall into a room full of scornful sneers from colleagues, and horny perverts that didn't care to avert their eyes from the video of you getting fucked.

It looked too good; with him having pulled you back on to his lap and lifted your legs up. The view of how accepting your tight cunt was of such a big dick would live forever with these people, partnered with the sound of your moans as your pussy was filled with cum.

You slammed the laptop shut and snatched it free from the cords of the projector, numbly walking out of the room to get your bag and go. After all of the measures that were taken to keep something like this from happening, it still ended up being a disaster. The laptop that you were using was at least 6 years old. You kept it as messy as possible, with file folders saved across the home screen and the taskbar full of miscellaneous interests. It wasn't synced to any accounts, all apps that weren't games were deactivated for the most part. No Docs, no Cloud, no Adobe suite. Just plain PowerPoint, which was over a decade old at this point. You wracked your brain, trying to figure it out; Where had you gone wrong? How did Katsuki even manage this!?

Heading down the walkway, the orange monstrosity that he drove was parked on the sidewalk waiting for you. The negative emotions within you undulated like snakes in a pit. You slammed the car door as you got in and didn't spare him a glance.

He didn't react, other than the smirk that he forced himself to suppress, expecting a blow-up any minute but it never came. Instead, you cried silently. The tears just started pouring down your face as you stared straight ahead. Immediately he felt a wash of guilt. He hated when you cried but you really forced his hand; You liked to go to work and pretend he didn't exist, like you were single and work was your everything. So it was your own fault. Still, he would forgive you with no hesitation as soon as you shed a tear.

"How?" You asked, voice low, still not looking at him.

"I switched the videos when you dozed off last night...You left everything open."

You didn't bother to respond, a massive sob coming from you instead as tears kept coming.

Bakugo was certain that he had never seen anyone cry like that; almost completely silently with no noise other than the occasional sniff and nose wipe with a handkerchief. Definitely a far departure from your usual. You winced when he rested his hand on your thigh but otherwise did not protest.

"Kats, I'm tired. Please head home, I've been on my feet all day."

"Uh, yeah." He didn't know how to respond.

"Thank you."

The rest of the ride was silent. You had screamed, shouted, and broken things more times than you could count and at this point, you just didn't have the energy to do that. Tired and angry for sure, but at the core of it all you were sad. That he could do such hateful things. That he could care less about what you wanted for yourself. That he would be so unnecessarily cruel, while still claiming to love you.

This was the last straw.

💥💥💥💥💥

For a few months, you plotted and played your role. If you wanted to go somewhere, you asked him to bring you. You wore overly revealing clothes and climbed all over him in public. You stopped using his name, referring to him exclusively as Daddy no matter who was around. You would initiate sex, begging him to fuck you; beg to fuck him. You even took to sending him video and pictures of you playing with yourself when he left you at home, sometimes in his oversized clothes, other times nothing at all-- (which would make him come back much faster, if he could help it). You really made him feel his victory.

Kats was too busy loving that you didn't resist him anymore and was all too eager to have you all to himself; You, he, and the dog had been to 5 countries in the three months since. It was easy to get swept up in the gifts and vacations (and mind-blowing orgasms) and forget he was something that you needed to get away from, since he had been absolutely perfect since you started acting the way he wanted. You almost felt bad about your brewing plot to leave.

Well, it actually wasn't much of a plot, you were you going to take a few thousand out of his home safe, get the dog, and ghost. He was just too unstable and insecure, and at this point it was clear that he could only behave properly when you were 'obedient'.

💥💥💥💥💥

The sole opportunity to leave came with the passing of another month. When he wasn't traveling, Bakugo habitually visited his parents' headstones on the Saturday of every third weekend, at sunset. It was the absolute only time that he left you devoid of incessant phone calls, messages, and his suffocating presence. A cloud of guilt shrouded the decision to leave at such a time... But you'd never know peace if you didn't. What other choice did you have? You had learned from the last several times you attempted to break up with him that it would only intensify his crazy.

When he left that evening, you waited until receiving the text that he was there to make your move. You left absolutely everything behind other than Thunder with his dogfood and cash from Bakugo's safe-- On foot, hence lurking through the woods that started on the edge of the property instead of taking a main road. The location of motion cameras on the edge of the acreage that surrounded the house were something that you had carefully mapped out the boundaries of-- And after almost 4 years, you knew where they were by heart.

There was also a small plan that was put into play as a distraction; He always took the smaller, more low key of the cars when visiting the cemetery. In turn, you sent his chef to a store over an hour in the opposite direction of where you were going, in his easy to spot orange car.

It would be hours before he knew you were gone...

💥💥💥💥💥

[f1bordeaux]

If You Cared (Part 5) | mv1

It's been years since you've indulged in a vacation. What better time is there than summer? Your family, the beach house in Italy-it seems perfect. But, for things to be just like good old times, your family needs to invite his. So of course you are having mixed feelings as the boy who broke your heart re-enters your life like nothing happened. Warnings: None Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader Word count: 2.3k Poetry style | Story style A/n: This is it! It's once again rushed because after tonight I wont have my laptop until late October and I really wanted to get this out. So forgive any errors please. I'll rewrite one day! Also, later on I'll write a sequel if you guys want me to because I love this story and the characters. Anyways, enjoy and to those of you who came along for the whole ride, I appreciate you more than you know<3 Cheers and I'll see ya in October! Part One|Part Two|Part Three|Part Four|Part Five

Once your last suitcase was in the trunk, you were ready to go.

One flight took off the following morning at 6. You were willing to sit in that small, grocery store sized airport for a few hours. Anything not to see or think about him. Right now, every room in the house was drowning in memories. You were suffocating.

“Y/n, come inside please.” Your mother begged. It was pouring down rain, and you were sitting on the patio just watching the droplets ricochet off the pool water. “You’ll catch a cold.”

“I don’t mind.” You said.

She sighed, a signal of her defeat. When you left from the charity dinner, taking your mothers rental car with you, nobody but Mia followed. About an hour later, they all pulled into the driveway. Nobody said a word as they walked through the front door to see a pile of suitcases lined up. Nobody dared to even cough as they watched you throw them all in the trunk in the pouring rain. You were done. You’d had enough. Elba was just as dead to you as he was.

Mia begged you to stay the rest of the week, saying that it was Max who should leave, but you couldn’t explain to her how every square inch of the beach house reminded you of his touch. The kitchen brought back memories of his small, butterfly kisses when you both cooked dinner or when his hand would rest on your thigh at the kitchen bar. The living room just reminded you of all the times you fell asleep in his arms during a movie and how he would carry you to your room. Your bedroom was the worst spot of them all. Your sheets still smelled like him, the mirror still displayed his reflection, his clothes were still on your floor.

“I need to go home.” Was all you could say to Mia as she begged you not to.

“Y/n?” The patio door slid open softly, but you didn’t bother looking. “Can we talk?”

“I don’t really feel like speaking to you.”

Luca didn’t sit next to you, he didn’t walk up to you or approach you. Instead, he stayed behind you, speaking to your back. Never before had you or either of your siblings had a situation like this. The three of you had always been close but this. Luca had really done it this time. You also had a little resentment for Mia, too. She’d known for a while and still let you fall head over heels for Max. Was it her fault? No, but she could have said something. She should have said something.

“I’m sorry, y/n.”

“Wow,” You scoffed. “Suddenly everything is all better! Me and Max are getting married tomorrow, want to be the ring bearer?”

“Y/n-”

“What was going through your mind, Luca? Hmm? Can I just ask you that?” You shook your head. It was hard to understand this whole situation.

“I didn’t think he’d take this seriously. I thought he’d say no and laugh it off.”

“But playing with my feelings in the first place was alright? Because you thought he’d say no it was alright?”

Luca fell silent. Obviously it wasn’t right, that much was known. But he didn’t know how to express how sorry he was, or how he didn’t think it would go this far. No matter what he said, you would come back and rebuttal his comment with something more emotional, something more meaningful. Luca wasn’t one with words, he never was and never would be. In this moment, he wished he was.

“Here.” He dropped five or six envelopes on the table next to you. “Maybe you wont forgive me, but this wasn’t his idea.”

Before you could say anything, he was inside, closing the glass door behind him. You looked at the off-white envelopes. They had your family's address on them, but your name was clearly written on there. The return address? The Verstappen house. Not Sophie and Victoria’s house, but the childhood house that Max and his father lived in.

Your heart sank.

After finding the oldest one, dating back to only a few months after he broke up with you, you slid it open and pulled out the paper. A photo fell out, alongside a dried up, flattened rose petal.

Y/n.

I miss you. It might sound selfish to say, but I really do.

I don’t think I ever realized how important love could be in life. I saw it as more of a form of entertainment rather than a necessity. I knew my feelings for you were real, I knew they were physical and emotional and everything in between, but I didn’t know how hard they’d be to get rid of. Leaving you hurt, it hurt so bad that I felt like I couldn’t breathe on my way home. But, I thought they’d go away once I was back with dad. I thought they’d be like a stomach ache or migraine. Like I said, though, they are much harder to get rid of than that. Seeing all the love that other drivers have at the track, seeing their girlfriends and moms and families hurts me. All I have is dad and, well, you know what that's like. I’ve realized that I need someone like you, someone I can laugh with, someone I can talk to, someone who will tell me it's ok and that I won't fail in life after a bad race. I need someone on my side, not someone who is only team Max when I win.

I think of you every time I race. I dedicate every win to you-and mom of course. In the photo I sent, I won my first F3 Grand Prix. It’s a huge step in the right direction and at this pace, I’m set to be the youngest F1 competitor if I can make the Toro Rosso team in a few weeks. I hope you’re there to see it.

I get it if you don't want to talk to me. I know I broke your heart and ruined the rest of your summer but please, if any drop of your feelings were real please write me back. I could use the support.

Love, Max.

Sure enough in the photo a young, 16 year old Max was hoisting a trophy in the air as champagne was sprayed on him. You picked up the rose petal and it crunched in your grasp. Where had these gone? Why didn’t you get any of them? You didn’t move out at sixteen, why didn’t you get them?

The other ones followed the same idea as the first; I miss you, I messed up, I’m making promising moves in my career, please answer my calls or reach out, I love you, Love, Max. And sure enough, every single one made you cry. Near the end of the last one, however, Max wrote;

Take this as my final goodbye. I hope you’re getting these but I’m not getting any response so maybe you’re not. I deserve this, I know. But, I was really hoping things would be different. I’m sorry for the pain I caused you, y/n. If I could take it back, I would.

Dad told me to stop wasting time writing silly letters that get no response, so I guess this is my last one. Hopefully we can reconnect someday. I hope you're watching me on TV. I hope that a piece of you still loves me, as selfish as it sounds. There will always be a place for you in my heart, always.

Goodbye, y/n. I’ve always loved you, and I always will.

Max.

Your hand came up to cup your mouth. These letters were similar to the ones up in your room. Max loved to write, and on your 15th and 16th birthday, he wrote you two beautiful letters that you said you’d cherish forever. You left them in Elba when he broke your heart.

Without even thinking, you stood up, turning on your heel so quickly you were afraid you’d fall. With the letters cradled in your arms, you ran inside. The house felt empty. Nobody was around except for-

“Mia-” You called out in between tears. “Where is-where are-Max, where is Max?��

“He left-”

“What?”

She nodded. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to talk to him. Where did he go?”

“There’s a ferry leaving in like, thirty minutes. He’s going to get on that.”

You shook your head, tossing the letters on the counter before running to the front door. You grabbed a pair of keys and darted through the rain as your sister called out your name. Max at least deserved a chance to explain himself, right? Maybe he was too prideful, too nervous, too scared to speak to you himself. That was alright. You’d just go to him.

The drive was long, you were afraid you’d miss the ferry. It left at five am, you assumed, and it was 4:48 when you pulled into the dock. He was probably already on the boat, no? He was probably already in his seat waiting for the departure to begin. That wouldn’t stop you.

Maybe fate was on your side, maybe it was meant to be. Whatever it was, Max was standing in line to load onto the boat, suitcase in hand. “Max!” You shouted. He was still in his suit, you were still in your dress. Neither of you looked as elegant as before, but it would be wrong to say you thought he looked bad. 

He turned to look at you, his eyes wide when he saw who was calling your name. “Y/n?” Max turned out of line and walked near you.

In seconds your arms were around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug that took him a few beats to reciprocate. You then pulled away, looking him in the eyes as tears flooded yours. He was confused, taken aback, even. “We need to talk.”

“But I’m leaving-”

“Please stay.”

-

“I’m mad at you, don’t get me wrong.” You said, looking off into the distance. There was a small cafe near the dock that was open for breakfast. So, the two of you sat outside and drank tea whilst looking like complete lunatics.

“So why’d you come get me?” He asked. “You could have completely let me go.”

“What good would that do? I would just hate you forever and it would eat me alive. Just like it did last time.”

Max shrugged. “I don't think I deserve a second chance.”

“Luca gave me the letters you wrote me as a kid.”

Max turned pale. “What?”

“Yeah,” You nodded. “I never got them as a girl or trust me, I would have written you back-or texted you at least.”

“I know you never got them.”

Did you hear him correctly? He knew? In the last letter he assumed you didn’t get them. “How’d you know?”

Max looked at the sunrise that was touching the horizon. The sky looked beautiful. There were no clouds, only bright shades of reds and yellows, blues and purples. The water from the ocean reflected the scenery perfectly. He didn’t know how to answer your question. It would be embarrassing if he did. He never planned on you seeing those even though he sent them.

“I was writing your address wrong. I was one number off or something, so they all got sent back at once. I sent them back after fixing it, but I called Luca and told him not to let you get them.” He said in one breath, cheeks igniting with a blush. “I was too embarrassed.”

That's why you didn’t get them.

You were torn. If he really cared he wouldn’t have taken the bet, right? If he really cared, he would have let those letters get to you. What if this was just another elaborate part of his plan? You wanted to believe it, you wanted to see the truth in Max’s story, but you couldn’t trust him. You couldn’t read him as well as you once could. A piece of you was saying, shut up and take it, he's your dream man, and another piece of you was saying, do better.

“Did you ever really care about me?” You asked.

Max looked at you with wide eyes. “What?”

“This summer,” You reiterated. “Did you ever really care about me? Be honest with me.”

Without missing a beat he said, “I didn’t just care about you, I loved you. I don’t like to admit my feelings-mainly because I grew up in a house where feelings didn’t exist-but I couldn’t hide the love I have for you. I’ve never been able to hide it. Ask dad, mom or Vic.”

You sighed. “The scary part is, Max, even after all this, even after I found out one of the worst things, even after I felt used and objectified, I still want you. Every part of my body is screaming no, telling me to run and leave without turning back but one small, small sliver of me is begging to stay.”

Max leaned across the table, palm coming to cup your chin. He smiled softly, his breath dancing across your cheek. It felt refreshing. It felt like summer. Perhaps things would be ok. Perhaps things would always be ok.

“So stay.” He said. “I promise to love you, y/n. I will love only you.”

Your lips connected to his. It was a soft kiss, one that reminded you of your first. Did you know what was going to happen once he went back to racing and you went back to work? No. Did you know if he was your boyfriend now? No. Did you know if things were going to work out? No. But honestly, nothing in life is for certain. But damn, sitting in front of an italian coffee shop, watching the sun rise over the ocean with Max’s lips on yours felt nice.

You were excited for a lifetime of moments like these. All of them with your childhood boyfriend by your side.

And yeah, you did feel like you could call him that now. You could call Max whatever the hell you wanted to.

[chicgeekgirl89]

Summary: While responding to a multi-car pileup, Carlos is involved in an accident that leaves him fighting for his life. A/N: This was a request from @rubinsteinsilva126. They requested: I’d want a Carlos Whump story! Carlos getting injured, riding in the ambulance that TK responds to the call of, and then TK later holding Carlos in the hospital bed because Carlos was in pain and needed comfort 🥺 (Also, they requested this almost a literal year ago. So I am no longer taking requests because I am clearly bad at following through on them! 😂)

Read on AO3

T.K. does not want to be at the scene of a multi-car pileup. T.K. doesn’t want to be at work in general today. What T.K. wants is to be at home, in his bed, with the covers pulled up over his head, his moody playlist blasting in his ears.

But unfortunately his work schedule doesn’t care about his feelings in the slightest and instead he’s arriving in an ambulance at said multi-car pileup in the middle of the highway.

And his husband is here. Because of course he is.

T.K. spots Carlos directing traffic around the accident as soon as they pull up in the rig. Usually this would be a delight. Usually he would smile and wave and feel a rush of joy at seeing Carlos during a call. There’s something special about working together to save lives. 

But today he is not thrilled.

“Oh look, there’s Carlos,” Nancy says as they jump down from the rig and start gathering supplies. “Are you going to go say hi?”

At that moment Carlos sees them, his eyes locking with T.K.’s. Neither of them smile and after a second Carlos looks away, focusing on directing a blue Toyota around the mangled mess of cars.

“Well that seemed a little frosty,” Tommy says as she steps up next to them.

“Frosty? That was downright arctic,” Nancy says, eyeing him curiously. “Trouble in paradise?”

T.K. shifts the backpack on his shoulders, annoyed at how the straps are already digging into him after only a few seconds. “Carlos and I,” he says testily, “are in a fight.”

“Well that explains it,” Nancy says with a roll of her eyes. “You’ve been grouchy all day.”

“No I haven’t,” T.K. snaps back at her in annoyance. The only thing worse than being pissed off at your husband is having your friends point out that you’re pissed off at your husband.

“Sweetheart if looks could kill we’d both be dead,” Tommy says gently. “Several times over.”

“Well I’m—” T.K. huffs, “I’m mad at him.”

“Yeah that doesn’t mean the rest of us should have to suffer,” Nancy says. “What are you so mad at him about?”

T.K. turns his hands into fists, squeezing them tightly as all the feelings of the last twenty-four hours bubble just underneath the surface of his control. “He keeps turning the thermostat down.”

Tommy and Nancy both blink at him. When they don’t speak he presses on. “I turn it up and the next thing I know I come back out and it’s turned down again. It’s like he doesn’t even care about climate change at all!”

“Haven’t you two lived together for like, a long time now?” Nancy asks. “Shouldn’t you have worked out the temperature of your living space at this point?”

“We had to replace the thermostat last week,” T.K. says. “It’s all different now.”

“I understand that must be frustrating, but I’m not sure it’s worth having a fight about,” Tommy says.

“That’s not the only thing,” T.K. continues. “It’s the pillows.”

“The pillows?” Nancy asks.

“He buys allllll these throw pillows and puts them all over the place, but guess what? Are we allowed to touch them? Lean on them? Use them for what they’re intended for? No. Why? Because they’re ‘decorative’ and if I lean on them they’ll ‘lose their shape.’ Isn’t that insane? Why do we have them if we can’t use them?”

“Okay, yes, that does seem kind of annoying,” Tommy says, but T.K. is on a roll, and now that he’s started airing his grievances to the public he can’t seem to stop.

“Also he got his hair cut too short last time!” he gripes, glaring at the back of his husband’s head.

“Um, his body his choice dude,” Nancy says.

“I know that!” T.K. says with a scowl. “But he knows how much I like his curls and he didn’t even tell me he was going to do it, he just showed back up at the loft looking like a sheep after shearing!”

He can hear the words they’d hurled at each other even now, as if he’s reliving them.

T.K. had come out of his shower, still toweling off his hair when he’d heard the whoosh of the AC system kicking on. Eyeing the thermostat on the wall he’d sighed. “Seriously Carlos?” he’d said, turning to look at his husband, who was reading in their bed.

“What?” Carlos asked in confusion.

“You turned the thermostat down. Again.”

“Yeah…” Carlos said slowly. “It was getting stuffy in here.”

“You know that air conditioning is a big part of the issue with our carbon footprint.” This shouldn’t have been a big deal to him, but T.K. had come from a meeting grumpy and in the mood for a fight.

Carlos set his book down and scoffed. “I don’t think using the air conditioning that was built into our home long before we moved in is that big of an issue T.K. We live on the top floor. Heat rises. It gets warm up here without it on.”

“Then open a window.”

Carlos bristled, rising to the bait T.K. was laying out for him.“It’s ninety five degrees outside! The air is so stagnant out there it’s like opening an oven door! Why are you freaking out about this?”

“I’m not freaking out, I’m just asking you to think about the environment and our electric bill!”

“Our electric bill is fine! What do you want me to do, plant a tree every time I turn the temperature down a degree?”

“That would be a start.”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “It’s my home too T.K. I should be allowed to have a say in it.”

“Oh, like I have a say with the throw pillows?” T.K. snapped.

“That’s totally different!”

“How Carlos? How is it different? You want to use the air conditioning, I want to use the throw pillows. It’s exactly. the. same.” He gestured sharply with his hand to emphasize his point.

“Because the air conditioning doesn’t lose shape and color when you lean against it! I picked them all out, I’d like them to stay nice so that when people come over they don’t look like shit!” Carlos’ eyes flashed dangerously, a sign that he was well and truly pissed off.

“You think our friends are judging us for our misshapen throw pillows? Wow you really are a control freak.” 

“You don’t care if our friends think our home is nice?”

“I really don’t.” That wasn’t true, but it felt good to say it in the moment.

Carlos rolled his eyes.“Okay. Sure. Next time we have game night we’ll just let our all friends sit against lumpy, flattened pillows.”

“Do you not hear how insane that sounds?!”

“Oh, is it as insane as keeping mealworms in our refrigerator next to our food so they last longer?”

T.K. gapes at him. “You said it was fine!”

“I said it was fine. I didn’t say I liked it,” Carlos said, his lips pressing together into a thin line.

“So you’d rather Lou II starve? Is that what you want?”

“No, of course not T.K.! It is unbelievable to me that you would even say that after all I’ve done for that stupid lizard!”

They’d gone on for another fifteen minutes before descending into frosty silence after T.K. declared he hated Carlos’ new haircut. Both of them refused to move to  the couch so they laid angrily next to each other until they fell asleep. The silence had persisted through the morning as they readied for work, ending in a terse, “Love you, be safe,” from both of them before they headed out the door.

“You’re comparing your husband to a sheep?” Tommy asks, an amused smile on her face.

“Yes!” T.K. gripes. “And that’s not all. He also—“

There’s a screech of tires and a car, a silver Honda, pulls out of the line of vehicles that are waiting to pass the accident and tries to zoom around them. Time slows and T.K. sees what’s about to happen and realizes there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

The Honda clips Carlos and sends him spinning, his body whirling like a top before he collapses to the ground, unmoving. 

“CARLOS!” His husband’s name tears from his lips and T.K. is running before he can think, feet flying over the ground to reach Carlos’ side. He skids to a stop and drops to his knees, backpack falling to the ground beside him.

Carlos is flat on his back, eyes wide, mouth gaping as a harsh, rasping sound escapes from his chest. He looks shocked, terrified, and T.K. can tell his own face is a mirror of the same horror. “Carlos, Carlos, hey, hey talk to me,” T.K. babbles out, hands hovering, afraid to touch, all his training completely gone from his mind as panic takes over.

“T.K.” His name comes out on a whimper and T.K.’s heart shatters inside of his chest. He’s never heard Carlos make such a terrible sound in his entire life.

The world around him feels like it’s moving through sludge, everything slow, muffled out of focus. The only thing he can see is Carlos’ pained expression. And then there are hands on T.K.’s back and everything snaps into real time as Nancy and Tommy join him on the ground.

“T.K. back up,” Tommy says sharply. “Give us some room to work.”

T.K. shuffles back awkwardly, hands clenching into the knees of his uniform pants to stop them from shaking. 

“Carlos, baby, where are you hurting?” Tommy asks as she takes scissors to Carlos’ uniform shirt.

“My…chest…” The words barely come out, strung together on forced gasps that sound terrible and painful. “Leg…”

“He’s not moving air,” Nancy says, a stethoscope pressed to Carlos’ chest. “I think it’s a pneumo Cap.”

“Okay, we’ll have to decompress him,” Tommy says. “Grab the kit. And a splint, he’s got a tibia fracture in his left leg.”

“On it.”

It’s all moving so fast, everything a blur, and T.K. is struggling to keep up with it all. It doesn’t feel real, this can’t be happening. Not to them. Not now. Not again—

“T.K. come hold his head,” Tommy orders.

In hindsight he’ll wonder if she really needed his help or was just giving him something to do so he didn’t come apart at the seams on the asphalt of the highway, but in the moment he does exactly what she asks without question, his hands, cloaked in blue gloves, cradling Carlos’ head just above the c-spine collar they’ve put on him to keep his neck stabilized.

Carlos’ terrified eyes look up at him, boring deeply into his own and T.K. should offer some words of comfort, tell him he’s going to be okay, that they’re taking good care of him, but he can’t. The words won’t come.

He can tell when they finally shove the needle into Carlos’ chest, feels relief when air hisses out and Carlos takes a huge breath. “That’s it, keep breathing Carlos,” Tommy says as Nancy slips an oxygen mask over his face. “You’re doing great. Just relax and let us take care of you.”

She glances up her eyes finding T.K.’s and usually he would grab onto the calm he sees in them, but he can’t right now. His spirit feels wild, like it’s been torn loose from his body and is whirling around in an uncontrollable storm. “T.K., you with me?”

“Yes,” he rasps out. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Good. Because I’m going to need your help getting him onto the backboard.”

They roll Carlos on and then get him into the ambulance. Later T.K. will find out the entire event took less than ten minutes. In the moment it feels like hours. 

T.K. sits in the back of the ambulance with Tommy as Nancy drives. He watches as Carlos’ body finally starts to relax, morphine doing its work as it drips into his veins. 

He looks up into T.K.’s eyes and it’s only then that T.K. realizes he’s crying, his eyes a darker brown color than usual that only comes when tears are falling. T.K. reaches down and carefully wipes them away.

“I’m—“ Carlos’ voice is breathy and muffled behind the mask, but he pushes the words out anyway, “—sorry.”

T.K. shakes his head his own tears falling now, droplets landing in his lap and soaking into his pants. “You don’t need to be sorry,” he says, brushing a hand gently through those short curls that he said he hated last night and now he loves more than anything in the world. “I’m sorry.”

“Call…my….mom?”

T.K. nods. “As soon as we get to the hospital and you’re checked in okay?”

Carlos’ eyes close and T.K. thinks the medicine and the pain have finally pulled him under, but then the blinks them open again, and they spear him with a terrified intensity. “Scared.”

Oh god. Oh god this is going to break him. “I know you’re scared,” T.K. says, clearing his throat when his voice cracks and resuming brushing his fingers gently through Carlos’ hair. “But you’re okay. You’re stable and we’re almost to the hospital. They’re going to take good care of you and soon…soon all of this will just be a memory. We’ve got you. Tommy’s here and Nancy and…and we’ve got you.”

He hopes that will be enough.

Within fifteen minutes of arriving at the hospital Carlos is taken off to be prepped for surgery. That’s when T.K. finally loses it, collapsing into a chair and sobbing into his hands as Nancy rubs his back while Tommy takes over the task of calling Andrea and his dad.

“He’s going to be okay,” Nancy says, but T.K. can hear tears in her voice too. “It’s a pneumo, some bleeding, broken bones, it’s all fixable. He’ll be all right.”

“What if he’s not?” T.K. cracks out. “What if this is…what if he…and the last thing we did was fight about the thermostat?”

“T.K., Carlos knows it was just a fight,” Nancy says. “Couples have fights. About important stuff and stupid stuff.”

“She’s right.” Tommy sits down on his other side. “Just because you were having an argument, it doesn’t negate everything else. Carlos knows that. And you do too.”

“It was just so stupid,” T.K. says, sniffing and wiping ineffectually at his eyes which will not stop crying. “How could I have been so stupid?” He struggles to push the next words past his throat. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“I know,” Tommy says. “Let’s not go there yet though, hm? Let’s have faith. Carlos is strong. He can pull through this.”

Andrea and his dad arrive and T.K. pulls it together enough to be strong for his mother-in-law who needs to believe that she’s not going to watch her only son die when the loss of her husband still feels so fresh. T.K. explains what happened, interprets everything the doctor told him on arrival, discusses what the surgery will entail, and the possible outcomes. 

It’s exhausting and he takes himself off to the bathroom for another crying jag about two hours after they arrive, returning with red, swollen eyes that they both can see. Andrea immediately folds him into a hug and they stay that way until the doctor finally returns.

He reports that Carlos’ surgery went well. They repaired his lung along with some other internal damage and set his leg fracture. He’s also got three broken ribs and a concussion, but overall he’s in good shape considering. It could have been much worse.

Somehow that phrase doesn’t feel like a comfort.

Tommy and Nancy leave once Carlos is settled into a room. He’s very out of it, the sedation and heavy pain medication taking a severe toll on his ability to stay awake. He manages a hello to his mom and Owen before lapsing back into sleep again. It’s brief, but it goes a long way toward reassuring them all that he’ll be okay. 

His dad heads out after that to grab some things from the loft so T.K. doesn’t have to spend the entire night in the hospital in his uniform and Andrea decides to go to the chapel for a little bit. T.K. is grateful for the space.

He sits in the chair next to Carlos’ bed, picking at a stray string on the cuff of his shirt. God he fucking hates hospitals. They’ve spent more time inside these walls the last few years than any human should have to. If he never has to come here again it will be too soon.

“T…K.?”

The croak has him snapping his head up to find Carlos struggling to open his eyes, pain lining the tension in his limbs, the darkness of his eyes, the creases of his forehead. He has medication onboard, but it’s like his body still knows how broken it is, even if he can’t fully feel it.

“Hey.” T.K. sits forward and forces a smile that feels like it’s straining his face. “Hey baby.”

Carlos swallows, the pain mixing with confusion in his eyes. “Am I—?”

“You’re okay,” T.K. says. They filled him in the first time he woke up, but it’s clear that it didn’t stick. “You were in an accident. Your lung was collapsed and you have a broken tibia and some ribs, but you’re going to be okay.”

Carlos nods, his eyes closing briefly as if he’s struggling to take it all in. “I’m okay?” Carlos asks, like he’s really not sure.

“Yes,” T.K. says firmly, reaching out to cover the back of his hand. “Yes, you’re okay. It’s going to be a long recovery, but you are okay.”

Carlos’ next breath is shaky and full of tears. “I’m not—I don’t want to leave you.”

God damn it just when he thinks he can’t cry anymore. “You’re not leaving me,” T.K. manages to choke out, squeezing his hand. “You’re not—you’re not dying. I promise baby. I promise.”

“I love you,” Carlos is crying in earnest now, like he has absolutely no control over his emotions. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

“Shh,” T.K. soothes, sliding the chair closer so he can run his hand up and down Carlos’ arm. “There’s no need for sorries.”

“I wasn’t safe.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Carlos swallows hard like it hurts him to do so. “Do you want some water?” T.K. asks and when Carlos nods he helps him sip a little bit.

When he’s done he licks his lips and meets T.K.’s eyes. “We can turn the thermostat up.”

T.K. chokes out a laugh, his eyes still damp with tears. “I don’t care about the damn thermostat.”

“I don’t want to fight anymore.”

“Me neither.” T.K. grabs a tissue and uses it to gently wipe the tears from Carlos’ face. “We’ll bring in a neutral third party to deal with the thermostat setting. Paul can do it.”

Now Carlos manages a small huff of a laugh. “And we can use the throw pillows.”

“Thank god,” T.K. says, trying to lighten the mood. “I was ready to sign the divorce papers on that one.” He reaches up and brushes a hand through Carlos’ hair. “And I love your hair. I love all of you. All the time. Any way you are.”

“I love you too.” He shifts a little bit, trying to get more comfortable. “Was my mom here?”

“She’s in the chapel. I think she needed some time to herself,” T.K. says. “My dad was here too. He went to grab us some stuff. If there’s anything particular you want from home I can text him.”’

Carlos shakes his head. “Just you.”

“I’m here,” T.K. says immediately. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Thank you.” Carlos closes his eyes and a shudder runs over his frame.

“Are you cold?” T.K. asks. He knows all too well that blood loss brings on a special type of chill. One that settles into your bones, that you can’t get rid of no matter how hard you try.

“A little,” Carlos says, shivering again and then letting out a small, pained sound as the movement jars his injured body. “Can you…can you hold me? Please?”

He shouldn’t. There’s barely any room in the hospital bed. And Carlos is covered in bandages and IV’s and the cast on his left leg. But honestly, T.K. needs some physical reassurance as much as his husband does right now.

So he carefully maneuvers himself into the bed, moving so slowly that it’s almost painful, tucking himself up against the railing so that his touch against Carlos is practically featherlight. “Why don’t you try and get some sleep,” he says quietly, running his fingers gently over Carlos’ stomach in a soothing motion. 

It always helps Carlos sleep to have his back rubbed, but this will have to do for today. He watches as the tension slips out of his husband’s body, sleep pulling him down and T.K. breathes out. They’ve survived. Again.

[specialagentlokitty]

Melissa x Teen!reader - mother to you

Could I please request a Melissa McCall x orphan reader who is in the pack, struggles with depression, and Melissa notices the depression symptoms and helps the reader through an episode, with the reader not being used to maternal love and Melissa being that maternal figure? If that’s ok <3 - Anon💜

You had stopped by the hospital to check up on Stiles, you knew he’d come here earlier but you hadn’t seen your friend all day and you were starting to get worried about him.

“Mrs McCall, have you seen Stiles?” You asked.

The woman looked up and nodded her head.

“Yes, he’s fine don’t worry, he’s just sleeping right now.”

“Ah, okay. Can you let him know I left some work for him with his dad?”

“Of course I can.” Melissa smiled.

You gave her a small smile and stuffed your hands in your pockets as you awkwardly looked around before shrugging your shoulders a little.

“I’ll be going now.. thanks again…”

With that you walked away and Melissa frowned a little as she watched you leave.

Your hoodie was dirty, and you were trudging slowly out of the hospital, avoiding anyone that came a bit too close to you.

She didn’t see you for a few days, but Scott told her that you were doing well, though you were skipping some classes in school.

You were crashing in an abandoned building when you heard walking around, and you could see the lights from a few flashlights shining about the area.

“Are you sure they’re even in here?”

“Yes Parrish, I know (Y/N), they’re prone to this neighbourhood.”

Sighing, you picked up your bag and walked around from the boxes you were camping behind and raised four hands as you avoided the sheriffs gaze.

“We’ve been looking for you for hours.” Stilinski sighed.

“Sorry…” you mumbled.

He walked over and lowered your arms, guiding you out of the building and towards the car where he helped you into the back seat.

He spoke to Parrish for a moment before he walked back over and sat in the back of the patrol car with you.

“(Y/N) this is the third time in two weeks you’ve ran away from the home, Stiles told me you sent him and Scott a message saying that you were going to leave town in the morning.”

“Yeah.. and…?” You grumbled.

“Where were you going to go? Do you know how dangerous that is?”

You gave a small shrug and looked away, and Stilinski sighed as you looked at you.

You looked exhausted, like you hadn’t slept in weeks, you were covered in dirt and he heard your stomach rumble through the silence.

“When was the last time you had something to eat?”

Again you shrugged.

“Didn’t you eat at the home before you left?”

“No… they padlocked all of the cupboards and the fridge because kids kept sneaking food…”

The sheriff frowned but nodded his head.

“I’ve got to take you to the hospital for a check over, but we’ll figure something out while we start an investigation against your home, okay?”

“Yeah whatever…”

You were quiet the whole ride to the hospital, and you said nothing as Stilinski led you inside.

You lightly clutched the back of his jacket, letting him know that you hadn’t run away while giving yourself some comfort that whole you were holding his jacket he wasn’t going anywhere.

You weren’t paying attention to anything he was saying to the woman behind the front desk, you were too busy staring at the floor.

“(Y/N)?”

You looked up to the Sheriff and let go of his jacket so he could turn around and he placed a hand on your shoulder.

“They want to keep you in for a few hours, okay? I need to go because I’m still on duty but I’ll check up on you after my shift ends okay?”

You just nodded and watched as he left and the nurse smiled at you.

“Give me a minute I’ll find you a room. Is there anyone I can call for you?” She smiled.

You shook your head and waited for her to turn back to her computer.

When she had you slowly started to backup towards the entrance, and turned around only to freeze in your spot, face to face with Melissa.

“Were you really gonna leave without saying hello?” She chuckled.

You said nothing and she sighed a little bit.

“Noah told me he was bringing you in. What’s going on?”

Again you said nothing and she gestured for you to follow her so you did.

She quickly spoke to the nurse that was supposed to be dealing with you, and she led you to one of the empty rooms and let you sit on the bed while she closed the door.

She pulled the chair over in front of you and sat down.

“What’s going on? No one else might have noticed but I sure have. The messy clothes, uncaring attitude, you look like you haven’t slept for a few days at least, and Noah said he could hear your stomach growling in the car. What’s going on sweetheart? Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing going on… it’s fine…”

“Is it though? Because I know you like your clothes, I once watched you wash a hoodie straight away because stiles spilled some soda on it. Let me help you.”

You said nothing and simply turned away from her, laying on the bed as you stared at the opposite wall.

Melissa sighed, and you heard the door open and close, as far as you knew she wouldn’t be coming back any time soon.

A few minutes later the door opened and closed again and Melissa walked around, setting a small bag in front of you.

You looked up at her in confusion.

“I brought some dinner in, but I didn’t get a chance to eat it. It’s just some curry and some snacks as well, and I got you a soda from the vending machine. If you don’t want to talk that’s okay, but will you at least eat?”

You nodded your head and sat up, taking the food from her you grabbed the paper plates she had brought up and split the food in half, handing her half and taking half for yourself.

Melissa smiled to herself and sat down on the edge of the bed with you as you ate in silence.

“I’m.. struggling…” you whispered.

“With what sweetheart?”

“Everything I guess…”

Melissa nodded her head and set her plate to the side, shuffling around a little bit so she could face you properly.

She reached out and held out her hands and you furrowed your brows a little before slowly raising your hands and placing them in hers.

She gave your hands a gentle squeeze before smiling at you.

“It’s going to be okay, we’ve just got to take it one step at a time, okay?” She whispered.

“We?” You asked back.

“Yes, we. I’m not going anywhere, okay? Neither is Noah, Scott or Stiles. But if you don’t want the boys to know then just me and for legal reasons Noah, okay?”

You gave a small nod and she stood up, grabbing your bag she slung it over her shoulder and tossed the trash away before gesturing for you to follow her.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you back to mine, I’ve been given the okay by the sheriffs department to so, if you’re okay with that?”

Again you nodded and followed behind her, you weren’t used to this.

You weren’t used to someone being so nice to you, so caring. She was acting motherly towards you, and you weren’t used to that.

Melissa of course knew this, and she wanted you to know that no matter what she was also going to be a mother figure for you, and she was going to treat you exactly like you were her own

[tngrace]

Kevin's Daycare

Kevin ends up on dad and babysitting duty to help his creators block. Short lil blurb the wifeys helped inspire! 🏷: @bayisdying @mrsjaderogers @ladylanera @semperhuggs

Kevin was still scratching his head on how he ended up with nine kids at once. Grace had called two weeks ago saying that there was a Navy event they had to attend at Pensacola, but none of them knew what they were going to do with the kids. Despite Pensacola being a little over five hours from him, they worked out a plan for Kevin to babysit for everybody since he'd have his girls at the same time to help out.

He'd met them at the airport, leaving his girls at his house. Grace rented a van just to help get the kids to his house; Kev took three of them and Grace took the three others. Bradley, Jake, Alana, Baylie and Mickey were just going to wait at the airport for their next flight. Luckily Kev didn't live far and they were able to get everybody inside with his girls before Grace had to head right back. It was utter chaos for the fifteen minutes Grace helped him get everything in and left, but thankfully there weren't any tears.

He'd asked them when they planned this, if it would be fine if the kids ended up on some of his videos because he still needed to do some work while keeping them; plus he'd been having creators block lately, and he was almost positive the kids would help. The three couples had all agreed, but also thought he was hilarious that he thought he'd get anything done with all the kids around. Of course Mitchell and Sam were all for helping Kev in the shop. Hadley loved taking in the huge space and all the new things she could discover, the twins following along with her when Marcus wasn't trying to help Kevin too. Caroline was content to sit back and watch for the moment, Ava bringing a book over to read to her. Olivia had curled up in Caroline's lap just watching the chaos unfold around her. Cara, bless her, was trying to help Kev wrangle all the kids to keep them from getting hurt.

The video was going to be highly entertaining; Kev trying to explain things he was doing, with his two little helpers, while in the background it was pure chaos and every few minutes, Kev was taking tools and directing the four year olds in other directions. Sam was helping Mitchell twist a bolt on the car, giggling when she noticed he had some grease on his forehead. "Me do it Sam!"

"You did buddy," she smiles. She helps him down to go try and clean his face off while Kev is off, collecting tools from Hadley and the twins.

"But Uncle Kev! I could use that," Hadley pouted as he took the wrench she almost took Nathaniel out with.

"I'm sure you could Hads. But not for hitting the twins," he laughed as he scooped her up. He blew a raspberry on her cheek to make her giggle as Cara steered the twins away from the motorcycle in the corner.

They'd been at it an hour, when Kev decided to throw in the white flag. His video ended up more of the kids and all their shenanigans instead of actually working on his car. "Who wants to go to the park?!"

The four year olds are excited for it, but Mitchell pouts and tears up because he'd been having fun in the shop. "We'll take some cars to the park I promise."

"Dad can we have a snack?!"

Kevin can't help but chuckle as they get all the kids back in the house. "Yes Ava get enough to share."

"Are you sure about this dad?" Cara asks.

"Not one bit kiddo," he laughs. He heads to the kitchen and helps Ava get snacks out for everybody. While the kids are eating, he packs several bags with towels, sunscreen, and toys. He packs a cooler as well with plenty of drinks and snacks. Luckily the park is within walking distance of his house. Once he has all the bags and backpacks packed, he puts Mitchell and Olivia in a double stroller. Hadley is content with a piggy back ride, and each of his girls takes one of the other three's hands.

The kids run wild and have a blast at the park. Kevin sets up under a tree to keep watch and orders pizza for lunch. The kids devour the pizza when he finally wrangles them onto the towels and settles down. Liv curls up in his lap after eating and promptly falls asleep. Mitchell is wearing down as well trying to keep up with the older kids, but he won't give it up. Kevin manages to get him to lay down beside him and he turns on a video on his phone for him. Mitchell ends up passing out as well. He lets the older four run around some more with his girls before he calls them back over to go back to the house.

He knows the four year olds will protest a nap, but they have played hard all morning and with the time differences, he thinks some rest will do them some good. They get back to the house, Cara helping him get the sleeping two year olds down on the bed. Back in the living room, they build a fort with pillows and blankets from all over the house. He turns on a movie and the twins end up following him to the kitchen. He lets them help him decide on what to feed them for supper.

Dinner goes smoothly, Marcus and Nathaniel having decided on grilled cheeses. Cara cuts up some fruit for them to go with it, and he promises cookies for dessert if they eat some of the fruit. Grace texts as they're just finishing their cookies that the event has finished and they'll be flying out within the hour. He promises her that they are fine, as he gets all the kids back into the living room. He turns on Disney and everybody collapses inside the fort.

He snaps some pictures and sends them to Grace to share. Hadley is laying on Caroline's left, Mitchell and Liv curled up on either side of Ava. The twins are separated by Sam and all of them are laying with their heads on Cara who is laying at the top of the pile. While they are watching Disney, falling asleep, he works on editing the video from earlier. It's one of his most chaotic videos ever, but he can't help but love it.

He heads to the back porch to film an intro for it, and he'll show it to everybody once they get there before he posts it. "Hello everybody! Welcome back to the channel. Today's video is not the usual content. It was going to be, but I helped my sister and her friends out today and ended up with a whole bunch of kids, including my own," he chuckles. "I'll admit, I've had a lot of creator's block on some of the projects at the shop and it's made it hard to make quality videos for you to enjoy. And while keeping up with nine kids ranging from thirteen to two is exhausting, today has been fun. The video is adorable and chaotic. I'm calling it Uncle Kev's Daycare!" He laughs as he ends the little clip.

When he gets back inside, he's not surprised at all to find all the kids asleep. He turns the tv down, and throws some blankets over them in their forts. He pulls footage from the day all together and gets it ready to show his sister and the gang. He greets them at the door two hours later. Everybody is exhausted so he quickly shows them to the guest room and the girls room they were going to use for the night. They all decided to just leave the kids as they are. The next morning over breakfast, he shows them all the video. It is one of the funniest videos ever and they're all more than happy to have him post it.

It ends up one of his most liked videos and gains him almost a thousand more subscribers. It's safe to say the next time he has creator's block he'll just offer to babysit again.

[compo67]

Compare & Contrast: House of Gold (2014)

My writing from 2014 is so different from my writing in 2023! Here's a chapter of "House of Gold" from "before" and "after."

2014

“Don’t kiss me, you’ll get sick.”

“I’ll risk getting sick.”

“No.”

“Jen, it’s okay.”

“Fine. A small one.”

Jared leaves Smithville on a rainy Tuesday morning. Jensen left the night before by himself in a car that came from the airport to pick him up. He’s made the set call for today despite being sick and running a hundred and one degree fever. They’ve made set accommodations for the past two days just for him and he can’t miss another call. He plans to use his illness as an advantage on set but Jared doesn’t quite understand how. Either way, they separate for twelve hours. Jared pulled out his carryon bag an hour after Jensen left and started packing.

“Long as you don’t mind havin’ a guest around,” he could hear John saying to his momma, polite and appreciative. “Promise you won’t notice I’m here, ma’am.”

“I wouldn’t mind if I did notice you were here,” his momma replied. “And don’t call me ma’am. Makes me feel old. I’m not that old, right Jay? Just turned thirty last year.”

“For the sixth time,” Jared snapped out with a small laugh.

She came over and he expected a swat to the head and a lecture on how when she was a girl she had half the men in this town kneeling at her front door, begging to let them take her out here or treat her to this. She likes to go on sometimes about how it’s her good looks Jensen best be damn grateful for.

Instead, she hugged him.

She felt so small.

Of course, she read his mind, and it earned him a small cuff to the ear. “Don’t,” she muttered, looking at him directly. “Don’t you dare do that, Jared Tristan Padalecki. Don’t you treat me like I’m fine china. I was never that kind of girl. Never been that kind of woman.” And that’s true. He knew it. She broke each arm at least once climbing trees as a girl. Broke her right leg when she was sixteen and riding an admirer’s motorcycle alone and took a sharp turn too fast. That motorcycle is still in their garage.

“John’s got a gun,” she whispered to him, a glint of excitement in her eye. “Gonna take him shooting.”

The plan is for John to stay in Smithville for a week while Jared joins Jensen on set in Vancouver. It was all Jensen and Mr. Mayhue’s idea. Right before Jensen left he and Jared met with Mr. Mayhue at the store. His employer refused to accept any money for the repairs or business it cost him. The building, they were assured, was insured and it gave Mr. Mayhue’s brother-in-law work for once. But he tipped his ten gallon hat and leaned back in his chair and admitted that he was concerned for Jared’s safety. In his experience, people bent on doing petty things like this didn’t stop until they got the reaction they wanted. It was Mr. Mayhue’s fear that vandalism would lead to something else—and his position in the community did not warrant any more interest from the police. They took pictures, poked around, and did nothing else. A week off is not a problem in comparison. They can manage.

Jared turns this all around in his head on the plane ride from Austin to Vancouver.

A coach ticket would have been fine, he thinks, looking around and sighing. He’s looked up ticket prices for first class flights on this route. His shoulders bristle and he tries to shake off his worry. Stop it. Jensen does these things because he cares. It’s not to make Jared feel less than capable or childish. Sometimes you need to accept help, Jared tells himself. It just seems excessive when there are people waiting on him left and right. He isn’t used to this.

When he lands at four in the afternoon he can’t get his ears to pop. Pulling at his left ear lobe, he sends a text to his momma informing him that he made it just fine. When that’s done he digs around his pockets for gum or something to chew on. This never happened on the flights from Austin to Miami or Dallas to Austin. Then again, those were all at maximum three hour flights and this was six. His ass has fallen asleep and his joints hurt from sitting down so long. Even with more foot room in first class his knees still hurt from crouching. Walking out of the terminal with his carryon, still trying to get his ears to pop, he wonders how the hell he has arrived. Customs was a breeze since he only has one piece of luggage on him and Jensen called ahead. He comes in through this airport so often that the airport staff knows him well. One of the security guards handed back Jared’s passport with a sincere, “Welcome to Canada, sir.”

By the looks of the airport, it doesn’t immediately feel like he’s in another country. Another state, yes. There are no ten gallon hats or belt buckles on display; he doesn’t hear y’all or right quick or any kind of drawl. He follows signs for the above ground exit and prays not to get lost in the airport. Please let him have some kind of sense to find the arrivals pick up, where Jensen said he’d have a car sent.

Ten minutes later and Jared is completely turned around and lost. The layout to this airport isn’t anything like the few he’s been in. Just as he’s beginning to panic, his phone goes off. He expects it to be his momma.

“You’re adorable when you have no clue what you’re doin’.” A Texan drawl. Jared feels the knot in his chest loosen. He can’t punch out a witty response and Jensen gets it. “Look to your left, sweetheart.”

This is bad.

Every time Jared panics he’s going to expect Jensen there to help him out of whatever mess he’s in.

He doesn’t care if it’s cliché or silly or totally predictable. His carryon wheels squeaking, he runs the short distance between him and the man in sunglasses and a baseball hat.

The first thing that’s said doesn’t come from Jared.

“God, I missed you.”

He is greatly loved.

---

2023

Jensen leaves at night, by himself, in a car that came to pick him up and take him to the airport.

He just barely makes the set call for today, despite being sick and running a one-hundred and one degree fever. He plans to use his illness as a way to get even more into character. Or something like that. Before he left, Jared insisted on a kiss.

“Don’t kiss me, you’ll get sick.”

“I’ll risk getting sick, Jen.”

“No, I won't put you in harm's way, Jay. Absolutely not.”

“Good lord, it’s okay.”

“Fine. A small one.”

Jared is set to leave Smithville the next day--a rainy Tuesday morning.

John and Sherri talk in the kitchen as Jared gets ready.

"Just as long as you don't mind having a guest around," John says to Sherri, his tone polite and appreciative. "I promise you won't notice I'm here, ma'am."

“I wouldn’t mind if I did notice you were here,” Sherri replies. “And don’t call me ma’am. Makes me feel old. I’m not that old, right Jay? Just turned thirty last year.”

“For the sixth time,” Jared quips.

She walks over and he expects a swat to the head and a lecture on how when she was a girl she had half the men in this town kneeling at her front door, begging to let them take her out here or treat her to this. She likes to go on sometimes about how it’s her good looks Jensen best be damn grateful for.

Instead, she hugs him.

She feels so small.

Of course, she read his mind, and it earns him a small cuff to the ear.

“Don’t,” she mutters, looking at him directly. “Don’t you dare do that, Jared Tristan. Don’t you treat me like I’m fine china. I was never that kind of girl. Never been that kind of woman.”

And that’s true. He knew it. She broke each arm at least once climbing trees as a girl. Broke her right leg when she was sixteen and riding an admirer’s motorcycle alone and took a sharp turn too fast. That motorcycle is still in their garage.

“John’s got a gun,” she whispers to him, a glint of excitement in her eye. “Gonna take him to the shooting range.”

The plan is for John to stay in Smithville for a week while Jared joins Jensen on set in Vancouver. It was all Jensen and Mr. Mayhue’s idea. Right before Jensen left, he and Jared met with Mr. Mayhue at the store. Mr. Mayhue refused to accept any money for the repairs or business it cost him. The building is insured and it gave Mr. Mayhue’s brother-in-law work for once. But Mr. Mayhue tipped his ten gallon hat, leaned back in his chair, and admitted that he was concerned for Jared’s safety.

In his experience, people bent on doing petty things like this don’t stop until they get the reaction they want. It was Mr. Mayhue’s fear that vandalism would lead to something else. He gave Jared two weeks off. The store will manage.

Jared turns this all around in his head on the drive from Smithville to Austin. John drives, with Sherri up front and Jared in the backseat with his carry-on. He hugs his mother extra tight when he leaves them curbside.

He checks in without a problem, though it is his very first time flying anywhere alone and his first time using his passport. When he boards, he can't believe how spacious it is in first class. A coach ticket would have been fine, he thinks, looking around and shaking his head. Of course, Jensen paid for the ticket and refused to think of Jared flying in coach. Jared has looked up ticket prices for first class flights on this route before. His shoulders bristle and he tries to shake off his fretting. Stop it. Jensen does these things because he cares. It’s not to make Jared feel less than capable or childish. Sometimes you need to accept help, Jared tells himself.

It just seems excessive when there are people waiting on him left and right. He isn’t used to this.

When he lands at four in the afternoon, he can’t get his ears to pop. Pulling at his left ear lobe, he sends a text to his momma informing him that he made it just fine. When that’s done, he digs around his pockets for gum. His ass has fallen asleep and his joints hurt from sitting down for six hours. Even with more foot room in first class his knees still hurt from crouching. Walking out of the terminal with his carry-on, still trying to get his ears to pop, he wonders how the hell he has arrived. Customs is a breeze since he only has one piece of luggage on him.

One of the security guards hands back Jared’s passport and says, “Welcome to Canada, sir.”

By the looks of the airport, it doesn’t immediately feel like he’s in another country. Another state, yes. There are no ten gallon hats or belt buckles on display. He doesn’t hear "y’all" or "right quick" or any kind of drawl. It's almost unnerving. He follows signs for the above ground exit and prays to the universe that he doesn't get lost in the airport. Please let him have some kind of sense to find the arrivals pick up, where Jensen said he’d have a car ready and waiting for him.

Ten minutes later, Jared is completely turned around and lost. The layout to this airport isn’t anything like the few he’s been in. Just as he’s beginning to panic, his phone goes off. He expects it to be his momma.

“You’re adorable when you have no clue what you’re doin’.” A Texan drawl. Jared feels the knot in his chest loosen up. He can’t punch out a witty response and Jensen gets it. “Look to your left, sweetheart.”

This is bad.

Every time Jared panics he’s going to expect Jensen there to help him out of whatever mess he’s in.

He doesn’t care if it’s cliché or silly or totally predictable. With his carry-on wheels squeaking, he runs the short distance between him and the man in sunglasses and a baseball hat.

“God, I missed you,” Jensen says, flipping his sunglasses up to give Jared a proper kiss. "C'mere."

Jared knows he is greatly loved.

[coreymichaelsmithson]

I Gave My Heart To The Junkman

Yesterday I sold my best friend to a stranger for $315.

This was, of course, far less than what a 2005 Kia Sedona ought to fetch, even for scrap alone. There were certainly a lot of useful parts still tucked inside ... but beyond any question of material worth, the sentimental value was incalculable. After all, I had poured so many financial and emotional resources into this long-term relationship, and steadfastly made repairs whenever the need arose, and had shown more unflagging devotion to this soccer-mom minivan than I had for some of my boyfriends, jobs, teeth, and homes. She was my first car, and like any first love, a first car carries a special significance.

I bought my Pamela in March of 2017, springing her from a dusty little shitpot in Bonner Springs, Kansas. I paid $2300 in cash for her, and easily poured ten times that amount into repairs. In just under six years, I replaced her starter, radiator, alternator, thermostat (twice), drive shafts, brakes, catalytic converters, power steering pump, rear shocks, rack and pinion, tie rods, hub and bearing, window motor, door actuator, timing belt, alternator belt, EGR valve, purge solenoid, charcoal canister, air conditioning compressor, cooling fan, valve cover gasket, tensioner and idler pulleys, exhaust Y-valve, oxygen sensors, hood struts, coils, hoses, filters, batteries, rear window, and three camshaft position sensors. We broke down in Iowa, Colorado, Washington, and Florida. We blew tires in Wisconsin, Oklahoma, Minnesota, and Georgia. I got to know the various components of my vehicle, one by one, as they fell apart.

Last week, she failed to start. In and of itself, this wasn't anything new, as she had crapped out so often in the past. But this time felt different, somehow. There was something so final about this silence. I knew, in that moment, that Pamela just didn't want to go any further. She had gone far enough.

With a heavy heart, I made arrangements with the junkman to come cart her away. I took the next few days to clean her out, retrieving all the tools, camping gear, and souvenirs I had stashed in her crates and cargo areas. The last thing I removed was the bobbing statue of Hula Girl, which I had glued to the dashboard back in Missouri. Her nose had gotten chipped in Iowa, when a sudden crosswind thwacked my camera's lens cap across her face ... but her irrepressible smile and cheerful ALOHA had accompanied me for over 99,700 miles, and I couldn't bear to leave her behind. I did, however, tear off the last few shreds of her disintegrating grass skirt, which no longer afforded her any dignity.

I sat for a long while in the driver's seat, holding the wheel that had been in my hands for thousands of hours. Its foam grip had been shredded by the stress of too many white-knuckled rides, all those times when I prayed for us to make it through blinding downpours or snowstorms or terrifying deep country two-lanes or narrow construction zones.

Sitting there, like a kid playing vroom vroom in the family car, I recounted some of our many adventures aloud. "Remember driving down the Vegas Strip? That supercell catching up with us in Valentine? That sunset in the wind farm? Heading out to the Olympic Coast? Devil's Tower? Ed Gein's place? Tinkertown? Bonneville? Waco? That refinery by Dodge City? Sunrise at Monument Valley? That one flat we got in Viroqua, and the farmer helping us change it? Dawn at Cades Cove? Those little hilltop dairy farms in The Driftless? The Badlands? The rim of Bryce Canyon? The meadow in South Park? The pueblos at Bandelier? Finding the trail at Butler Wash? The caves of Maquoketa? Picking up that hitchhiker in Dinosaur? Taking the Mountain Loop Highway up to Big Four? Morning mist on Steamboat Slough? The salmon run at Granite Falls? Taking the Alaskan Way Viaduct? Running along the Skykomish? The vultures on 312? Shiloh? Hooking up with the guys at Magnetic Springs? Going up Mt. Baker?" This went on for ages. Each memory brought to mind another, and another, experiences strung in sequence like beads on a string, a rosary of perils and deeds. After about ten minutes, my soliloquy devolved into a précis ... all I had to do was murmur "Kitty Hawk" and we returned immediately to one of the worst nights in our history, when we had to drive 700 miles through a tornado outbreak with a busted alternator and half a dozen batteries, sometimes driving blind in the rain without headlights or windshield wipers. We had so many close calls in our time together, and our survival sometimes seemed miraculous.

Finally, words failed me, and I wept. I sat there, finding myself once again broke and broken, a few weeks shy of turning forty-nine, devastated at another huge loss, crying my eyes out because my car wouldn't start.

Pamela had listened to me laugh, scream, sing. She heard my deepest secrets, my most buried fears, all the things I will never share with another living soul. She held space, literally and figuratively, as I processed early traumas, the kinds of injuries that had to be coaxed out of my soul like splinters. She kept me company as I mourned lost friendships, raged at failed opportunities, exulted over spiritual and professional victories, learned the lyrics to dozens of showtunes, and sifted through the smoldering wreckage of too many love affairs. She saw me at my very best and my very worst.

We traveled from coast to coast, crossed the Mississippi dozens of times, explored every kind of terrain in the continental US. We'd chased after tornadoes in Nebraska, dodged hailstones the size of tangerines in Oklahoma, coasted into Death Valley with squealing brakes, gunned through the Cascades on bald tires. We'd raced across salt flats and skidded out on gravel roads and slid on ice and got stuck in the mud. We climbed narrow mountain roads, corkscrewing upwards like a buggy in a Disney darkride, and were rewarded near the summits by whispering aspen groves and skies the color of lead. We followed thunderheads across hundreds of miles of cornfields, doubled back to photograph collapsing barns, got lost and found and lost again. We nearly ran out of gas on a stretch of moonlit desert, and were almost forced off the road by a madman near Mexican Hat. We saw insect swarms, murmurations of starlings, clouds rising from firs, incandescent sunsets, fogbound highways at 4:am, hazy feedlots, mine shafts, floodwaters, dust devils, wildfires. She had given me a treasury of beauty.

Pamela drove me to jobs in corporate office demolition, sanitation, construction site cleanup, disaster services, aerospace manufacturing, warehouse fulfillment, toy merchandising, and food delivery. She waited in parking lots while I went skydiving and whitewater rafting and hiking, while I ate, slept, got laid, gathered sharks' teeth, watched lions mate, and raised a circus tent. She carried me to zoos, sex clubs, cemeteries, battlefields, dormant volcanoes, dams, lighthouses, shipwrecks, museums, rodeos, waterfalls, weird roadside attractions, a nude beach, a monastery, a cassowary ranch, and the homes of countless friends. We saw Monterrey, Santa Fe, Orlando, Tukwila, Minneapolis, Fort Sumner, Little Rock, Mukilteo, Pensacola, Oso, Tulsa, Jupiter, Oakland, Bellingham, Eureka Springs, St. Louis, Mosca, Wichita, Portland, Pahrump, Ocracoke, Waco, Memphis, Sarasota, Montgomery, Estes Park, Vernal, Coeur d'Alene, Peoria, Birmingham, Lumberton, Des Moines, Topeka, Darwin, Beaverton, Bemidji, Enid, Deadwood, Hot Springs, Cullman, Austin, Ocean Springs, Chattanooga, Carlinville, Abilene, Darrington, Nashville, Moab, Pagosa Springs, McEwen, and innumerable parks, farms, rivers, and valleys. She took me to Judy Garland's birthplace in Grand Rapids and my own origin point in Ellensburg. We killed a hare near Ogallala and drove below arches made of lightning. We endured for far too long the joyless mazes of suburbia. She brought me into and back out of my homeland. She was my home at times.

Yesterday, a tow truck showed up on Reef Drive, our residence for the last four years. Pamela was marooned just behind her usual spot, along a hedge at the front of the property, in the shade of a nearby palm. A flock of scarlet ibises used to roost on her roof, and a clowder of feral kittens sometimes took shelter beneath her when it rained. There was a big rectangle where the grass had long ago given up and stopped growing. All of this was about to change.

The junkman was a friendly, toothless old chap named Thomas, and he had been doing this job for decades. His skin had been leathered by the sun, his hair bleached into straw, and save for the ball cap and tee shirt he looked exactly like a Gold Rush prospector. On his flatbed slumped a '71 Ford Bronco which had clearly seen better days. In any other circumstances, I'd be delighted to photograph such a wreck ... its windows were blown out, most of its panels were rusted, and it had an appealing patina of green mold, the sort of picturesque decay that I've spent decades documenting. But now it all seemed just too sad for words ... two old vehicles, far past their prime, being taken out to pasture. I thought of how horses used to get shot if they couldn't be ridden anymore.

Thomas indicated that my car seemed to be in pretty salvageable shape, though, and that she was likely to undergo a refurb rather than being scrapped altogether. This gave me a ray of hope that perhaps Pamela might yet play a special role in somebody else's life, and that just because our road had come to an end did not mean she herself was destined for oblivion.

I told him a little about the vehicle he was buying, how famous she was, how there were loyal followers around the world who had been cheering her on for the past several years. "This isn't just a car," I said. "Pamela's been through a lot. She's special." I told him about the memoir I published last year, about how we had traveled together over the whole country and seen the most incredible sights. He nodded and smiled and feigned interest, as he pointed out the numerous papers for me to sign off on. Then he handed me a check, which seemed pitifully small in my hands, and he set about hooking my poor old hooptie onto the tow rig.

I'd witnessed this ritual so many times ... the slow humiliating whine as my baby got hoisted into position, the rattle of chains around her undercarriage, the sinking helpless feeling as the tow truck lurched forward. I had already seen her get pulled away when her radiator blew up in Boulder, when her starter crapped out in Bothell, when her fuel lines got clogged in St. Augustine. But this time was different. This time there would be no joyful reunion at the shop. I stood across the street, and the reality of the situation hit me full force. Pamela, the car who had transformed my entire life, who had freed me from a desperately unhappy stint in Kansas City, who had framed most of America in her windshield, was leaving me forever. In a few minutes, she would disappear, and that would be that.

It's different in the movies, when a love story wraps up. Your heroes ride off into the sunset together, and the music swells, and THE END appears in big fancy letters over the clouds. And as the credits roll and you stand and brush popcorn from your lap you enjoy a tidy sense of closure. There is a clear sense of something having been finished, of a narrative having reached its rightful conclusion. My last few minutes with this minivan, on the other hand, felt weirdly anticlimactic and unsatisfying. I caught a few seconds of video on my phone as the tow truck began its journey. Then I just stood in the middle of the road with my arms hanging limply at my sides and watched as the most meaningful possession of my life rolled away, growing smaller and smaller until she reached the end of the block. And then the tow truck rounded the corner, and left my view altogether, and my Pamela was finally gone.

"Goodbye, old girl," I said, wiping my eyes. "Goodbye." Then I went back to my studio, returned to my easel, picked up a brush, and began the search for a new frontier.

[umichenginabroad]

First week of research: complete!

Week 3

Hey hey hey this is Emily reporting live from Spain with some more updates! I'll be talking about how research has been going so far, transportation, and other miscellaneous happenings as well. That being said, let's get intooooo it!

Please let this be a normal field trip!

Seatbelts, everyone!

So as I mentioned in previous posts, we had a two week Intro to Research course before actually starting our research projects. That was pretty much the foundation of everything we needed to know, along with familiarizing ourselves with a new day-to-day structure. This all took place at the engineering campus, but for research we have to be at the Gipuzkoa Science and Technology Park which is about 40 ish minutes away from our hotel by bus (IF the bus is on time). For the most part, we haven't had much trouble with the public transportation here in San Sebastian. Once we got bus cards, it's just a simple swipe and we're on our way to the downtown in an instant. Very very unfortunately though, the bus we have to take for research is notorious for being late because the driver hits too many curbs and has to fill out a form each time they do :'(. In these moments I reminisce about the M-bus and how I took for granted my favs: bbaits and comm north shoutout!! At least the bus always keeps us on our toes and makes for an interesting ride:

The bus driver had some of us help to move this car that stalled out in the roundabout...

Workin' 9 to 5!

Alright, let's get into the main topic of today: research! As the song snippet implies, we really do work a tried and true 9 to 5 (sometimes we get to a leave a little earlier or stay later). I don't mind it, I like having a solid schedule and knowing what I have to get done in a day. Our program has a range of different engineering majors, such as biomedical (me!), mechanical, electrical, comp sci, etc. and there are three groups of us each under our own professors. For my group, we have four people including myself, along with two PIs and a PhD student since we're currently working on two projects at the same time. Throughout the day we have brief meetings with them to show any progress that we've made, have discussions/analysis talks, and then go over the next tasks. I think we're pretty lucky because we have the biggest group out of the other two, and we get three rooms to ourselves (biomedical instrumentation lab, photonics lab, and cell culture lab). Nobody's got it better than we do. Overall, I really enjoy everyone I work with and what we accomplished this week! Looking forward to testing out more of the equipment such as the 3D printers and microscopes :).

On the left is Ricardo bringing the clurb to the photo lab, on the right is Diego prioritizing maximum comfort while hard at work

Happy Hour!

After lab what I've been doing is going back and...napping. Ok ok that hasn't been every single day but I need a little bit of a recharge before I go out and do anything else. Lately I walk around the beach or go to a bakery/coffee shop to get a sweet treat, or with the rest of my friends we'll terrace or get 2 for 1 pizza (so worth). The guys in our group taught us how to play the spanish card game Brisca, which is actually kind of similar to Euchre in some ways (flashbacks to the 280 Euchre project...makes me shiver thinking about it). Take a look at some highlights from this week below!

This is from one of my walks near the water! The scenery in this area was super cool to see.

My friends and I eating hotdogs (Miss Patatas on top!) and then absolutely DEVOURING some basque cheesecake.

and last but not least, this is Meteor! He's our lab mascot which we think was won at Dave and Busters?

Till next time!

Emily Dobao

Biomedical Engineering

IPE San Sebastian, Spain

June 9th, 2024

[hezzabeth]

An hour later, they reached the end of the market, weighed down with packages and a bag filled with jars of creation sand.

"Did we really need the ragdoll?" Sugafana asked Jay.

"Of course! Every child needs a special cuddly toy when they're born," Jay insisted.

"And the reading tablet?" Sugafana asked, referring to the old book of fairytales? It cost an entire bag of snow," Sugafana pointed out. Actual paper books were incredibly rare.

"The lady selling it looked like she hadn't had a decent meal in weeks! And babies who are read to grow up smarter," Jay explained.

"I’m sure she’s perfectly smart! Rich people always pay extra for intelligence upgrades," Sugafana pointed out as the baby squirmed against her chest.

"We should have bought her the pink princess dress," Jay said, looking down at the baby who was now wrapped up in a plain blue blanket.

"It was filthy and five sizes too big! The man was charging far too much for it," Sugafana grumbled.

Two people were leaning against Sugafana’s transport pod. Sugafana had found the pod abandoned and half destroyed in the snowfields during the first year of the appliance war. It had taken six months to repair. When she was finally done, Sugafana had painted it a cheerful Daffodil yellow with purple flowers.

"My pod isn’t a park bench," Sugafana said coldly, glaring at the two strangers. The first interloper was a tall round woman dressed in a black jumpsuit, her long frizzy blue hair pulled away from her craggy severe face. The second was a pale little girl wearing a frilly black party dress, her cobalt hair falling over one shoulder in a thick braid.

"It feels perfectly comfortable to me," the little girl said as the lady stood up, her black cloak swishing around her ankles.

"Assassin," hissed Jay.

"We prefer the term execution specialist," the lady said, and her eyes fell briefly on the baby.

"So, that little imp was right! You did keep the baby," the lady remarked.

"Mama, is this going to take long? My feet are tired from stamping too much," the little girl whined.

The execution specialist merely nodded towards the car.

"I see your pod has four seats; you will give my daughter and me a ride back to your camp. We walked here, and it was exhausting," she said.

"I won’t let you harm the baby," Sugafana said firmly.

"Neither will I," Jay added, and the lady chuckled. It was a low, cold chuckle.

"I only kill for money. Although if you refuse to give us a ride, I may make an exception," the lady remarked, and Sugafana’s eyes fell on the little girl who was scratching at her paintwork.

"Fine," she growled.

The first few minutes were tense as they drove through the city gates.

"So have you given the baby a name yet?" The assassin asked from the back seat after several moments of silence.

"No, she’s not my baby," Sugafana said through gritted teeth.

"I love naming things," the assassin said dreamily.

"Mama named me Paulina; it means small," the little girl remarked.

"You were small when you were born; I couldn’t decide if I should take you on as an apprentice or leave you to die on a hill," the assassin said.

Sugafana felt the grip on her steering controls tighten.

"And do you have a name, Auntie?" Jay stammered nervously.

"Not a legal one, no, but in this part of the solar system, you all call me the Sinister Whisper," the Sinister Whisper remarked, and Sugafana waved at the controls, causing the pod to skid to a stop an inch above the snow.

"When Mama dies, it will become my name," the little girl said cheerfully.

"Get out," Sugafana hissed.

"Get out? You want my daughter and me to get out into the freezing wasteland? It’s almost nightfall," she said with a small, vague smile.

Sugafana glanced upwards; the eerie aquamarine sunset was already starting.

"Get out, I don’t deal with famous assassins," Sugafana repeated herself.

"They might end up freezing to death! That little girl's dress doesn’t have sleeves," Jay said.

"I don’t feel the cold," the little girl said, and suddenly Sugafana felt something sharp and cold pierce through her thick braid, gently touching her neck.

"How about we all get out together? Or I might slip, and this nasty little needle filled with a highly effective toxin will end up breaking through your skin," the Sinister Whisper said.

Mars at sunset was considered one of the most classically beautiful sights in the solar system. Three hundred years ago, the tourist board of Mangalrajya built a glorious pleasure garden just outside the city. Sealed under a massive protective dome, tourists would party. Artists would come armed with drawing tablets to capture the aquamarine skies. Families would eat gourmet meals while waiting for the sun to set and the night sky to light up with a celestial fire show. During Holi, the fountains would spray epic jets of rainbow water. During Christmas, the local Catholics would arrange special concerts. For years, Sugafana would save her credits and take her sister to the annual food festival. When the appliances took over, the pleasure garden was one of the first things they destroyed. Now the land was empty apart from an occasional lump of rusty metal sticking from the ground.

Sugafana stood on the freezing ground, the needle still pressed in her neck.

"So, how did you two meet then?" The Sinister Whisper asked curiously.

"Mama! I don’t want to hear stories," the little girl grumbled.

"We met three years ago when we both tried to collect snow cubes in the same patch," Sugafana said simply.

"She thought I was a Maharatha raider and tried to kill me with her shovel," Jay added with a small nervous smile.

The Maharatha raiders were an annoying gang of teenagers. They spent their days roaming the wasteland robbing people instead of getting jobs.

"Then the real raiders showed up, and we beat them up together; after that, working together seemed easier," Sugafana added.

"Very nice, you're protective and you work well together," the Sinister Whisper said and then nodded towards Paulina.

Paulina skipped towards Jay and then pulled on his shirt.

"Give us the baby, or we will kill your partner," Paulina smiled.

Sugafana almost flinched. Jay seemed to be shifting slightly as if about to give the baby over.

"Jay, don’t do it," Sugafana said quietly.

"Are you sure?" Jay asked as the baby flailed about, her head slumping onto Jay’s shoulder.

"I’m sure, I’ve had twenty-four years! That baby has had nothing," Sugafana said, shutting her eyes.

Twenty-four years. Twenty years of pleasant walks, silly fights with family, and warm safe beds. Four years of people vanishing, good, sore bleeding hands, and four years of Jay’s silly stories….

Sugafana felt the needle pierce her skin. Her muscles clenched, preparing herself for the onslaught of burning poison. Nothing happened. Sugafana slowly opened her eyes and glanced over her shoulder. The Sinister Whisper was smiling at her, a self-satisfied, almost proud smile.

"The two of you have passed all my tests. Congratulations, you’re about to become parents," the assassin smiled, marching towards Jay, who was now faintly whimpering.

"I’m sorry… what?" Sugafana choked, and the Sinister Whisper shrugged.

"This baby needs parents who are intelligent, caring, and willing to die for its safety," the Sinister Whisper remarked casually, and Jay screamed as the Sinister Whisper pricked his skin with the same needle.

"You mean you’re not here to kill the baby?" Sugafana stammered, feeling vaguely hysterical.

The Sinister glanced briefly over her shoulder. "If I wanted to kill the baby, I would have destroyed the maternity droid's circuits instead of leaving it in the snow," she said with a small shrug.

"Mama, can’t we take the baby? These people are so soft," the little girl pleaded as the assassin pulled a small black box out of her pocket.

"No, darling, the baby's father will turn to us first," the assassin said as she handed the needles to her daughter and opened the box.

"The baby's father? Can’t he take her?" Sugafana asked, peering at the box.

Inside was a tiny gold caterpillar carved from solid gold.

"The baby's father is a bad man, an incredibly stupid bad man," the assassin said before taking the needles off her daughter.

Jay nodded as if fully understanding what she meant.

With a swift movement, she stabbed the caterpillar.

"Maternal and paternal genetic material uploaded," the scorpion said, and the assassin moved towards Jay, holding the tiny scorpion above the baby's head.

"This is a cosmetic DNA overrider, so you understand what that means?" The assassin asked Jay.

"Yes, we studied them at nursing school," Jay said in a small, nervous voice.

"What does that mean?" Sugafana whispered nervously.

"Rich people use them when they want to change their appearance but don’t want the genes to get passed down to their kids. It’s a sort of genetic mask that lies over your real DNA," Jay explained.

"Rich people, of course," Sugafana sighed.

"When I place this caterpillar on her head, this baby will have your maternal and paternal DNA signatures; every database in the solar system will register her as your biological daughter," the assassin explained.

"I have always wanted to be a mother," Sugafana admitted.

"I do like kids," Jay added.

"I know, that’s why I left the android on your snow patch," the assassin said, placing the caterpillar on the baby's head.

"Genetic overriding sequence selected, do you wish to proceed?" the caterpillar asked.

"Well, do you?" The assassin asked.

Sugafana’s eyes met Jay’s. He slowly nodded.

"Yes," Sugafana said, and the caterpillar began to squirm.

Suddenly, the baby's hair began to fall out in fluffy green clumps. The baby screeched and cried as the caterpillar rolled in on itself, turning into a cocoon.

"She’s in pain," Sugafana cried, running towards Jay.

"She’ll be ok; the patients I observed said it’s more of an annoying itchy feeling," Jay reassured her.

The baby's skin tone was changing; her cheeks were becoming fuller, and tiny prickles of violet hair began to sprout from her scalp.

"Modifications complete," the cocoon chimed, and it burst open, revealing a golden butterfly that flew away, landing on the assassin's shoulder.

The baby opened her eyes. Big, amber gold eyes surrounded by thick dark lashes.

"She looks like you," Jay whispered, and something flooded through Sugafana. Something aching and sad. Something wonderful.

"No, she looks like my sister," Sugafana whispered, taking the baby out of Jay’s arms.

The baby gripped onto the front of Sugafana’s shirt, and suddenly she was four years old again, holding her baby sister the day she was born.

"You should name her Perdita," Paulina said in a tiny, firm voice.

"No, they need to name the baby themselves," the sinister whisper scolded her gently.

"My sister's name was Lakshmi, but this baby is her own person," Sugafana said to Jay, and he stood next to her, patting the baby's head.

"What about Dityaa? It means almost the same thing," Jay asked, and Sugafana nodded, her eyes watering.

"Dityaa," she said firmly. Suddenly, everything flashed blue, and the air filled with the scent of fresh pineapple.

"They’re gone," Jay whispered. The assassin and her daughter had vanished.

[msmatx]

02.01.23-02.09.23— Week 18 [Switzerland to Paris for our first night]

Nothing like getting up and thinking about having to get on another train. Before we made our way back to the train station on Thursday morning, Atlas and I had a fantastic disagreement. He was convinced he could see a patch of snow in the distance from the hotel. He was also convinced that he could walk to that patch of snow from the hotel. Now, since our summer trip to Israel, I have become quite lenient in allowing both boys more freedom and independence. But my level of exhaustion, and instinct, said "nope, not today." I even went to the concierge downstairs to confirm that what he was seeing was not snow, in fact, it was white rocks. Atlas was still unconvinced. After threatening to leave him in Zurich and make him figure out his own way to Paris, we finally made it to the train station. Together.

Hero immediately checked out the snack car in anticipation of another 4.5-hour train ride. By the time we arrived in Paris, he had purchased four bags of chips, a croissant, and juice. This was another bullet train and he was very excited to have his photo taken with the train speed in the background.

We arrived in Paris around dinner time and made our way to our apartment. After a quick unpacking job, we went for dinner at the restaurant next to the apartment. Atlas was eager to have filet mignon. Hero had to settle on a charcuterie board.

The next morning we woke up and I had one the best parenting moments of our trip: Chipotle. When my adult children drag me to therapy for all the transgressions I committed in their childhood, I will say three words: Chiptole in Paris.

For months Atlas has been talking about eating at Chipotle, Starbucks, and Subway during our Paris trip. For the kid who loves to travel and try new cuisine, he also has some real love for basic American fast-food staples. We checked off Starbucks in Milano. And he knows I will not be caught dead in a Subway. But he sure knew how to campaign for Chipotle. So first thing in the morning of our first day in Paris I heard the incessant messaging of "we are going to Chipotle." Atlas even employed his brother in this endeavor. And to give you an idea of how determined they were for burritos and bowls, I told them that to go we would...WALK the ENTIRE WAY. It was about a 50-minute walk. It was cold and drizzly. And they were so excited to eat at Chipotle. It was not lost on them that the serving size was about half of what they get in the United States. We did have our first Paris Metro ride on our way back to the apartment.

That night Marc arrived and we went to a seven-course chef's choice meal. We could not pick any of the selections; it was all prechosen by the chef. We all had a lot of fun, even Hero who is not as adventurous with his food consumption. He found a lollipop stashed in his pocket.

And walking back to the apartment, spotting our first Paris monument—Place de la Bastille.

[themurderofcrowscollective]

" Alright gentlemen, we've been picking up activity of a shipment being transported by an illegal organization and it is said to be heading to this certain address. Two teams will be dispatched and already the first team have left to their designated location. You four will be sent to a safehouse and it is up to you four to keep an eye on the house throughout the week. " He locks eyes on you as you listen. " It should be obvious by now, but you are being sent on this mission for espionage. Your skills will come in handy, as you are to plant bugs in the house and listen in on their conversations about this shipment. " " Yes sir. " You nod, grinning underneath your mask. You love this part of your job, being able to sneak in and out undetected. " Okay, the helicopter is getting ready on the tarmac, go and pack up before you all head out. Be sure to change out of your gear too. Good luck men. " You made it quick to pack up a bag of essentials and your own personal set of bugs to plant, having switched out of your gear for more casual clothing to blend in with the crowd. - - - (Quick lil depiction of Cryptid in civilian mode)

(No face mask in sight.) - - - When you step out of your room, in full civilian mode, you look around and instantly meet eyes with Gaz who freezes. For the past month you've been wearing black clothing with a hood and a face mask, so this is the first time he's seen you without a single piece of black clothing aside from your sleeves under your button-up shirt. All you do is smile and walk off, leaving him shocked and heavily surprised. Soap walks past him before stopping and looking at his expression. " The hell's gotten into you? " " I... you'll see. " The four of you head to the helicopter, and Soap instantly realizes what Gaz meant since he can't stop staring at you with wide eyes as you sit in front of him. Ghost is the last to get in, closing the door of the helicopter in his civvies and sitting next to Soap before looking at you as well. You can tell by the look in his eyes that he didn't expect you to look this good. Of course, you don't say anything. Eventually you four get to the airport after taking a car ride after the helicopter ride, getting all the usual airplane stuff out of the way. It takes a good 12 hours to get to your destination, and all the while you've been reading a manga in Japanese with Gaz sitting next to you. There was no way in hell you'd go on a 12-hour airplane ride without anything to read. - - - When the four of you enter the house after landing, you all do rock paper scissors on who's sleeping where as there are only two rooms and four of you guys. It's already clear that Ghost and Soap are sleeping in one room together so really it was just you versus Gaz. He managed to win all three rounds so he of course has this grin on his face. " Sorry mate, looks like it's the couch for you. " " Yeah well at least I don't have to hear these two snore. " You smugly grin at him, expecting him to be mad about it but really all you get is him blushing. Gaz. Fucking Gaz. Blushing. " Ohhhh? Can't handle it when I smile? " He looks away with more blush crawling onto his cheeks. " Fuck off, I'm just... exhausted, yeah that's the word. " " Suuuure, whatever you say. " You pick up your bag full of your espionage shit and sit at the table, immediately getting to work while Soap takes first watch of the house across the street, peeking through the blinds with binoculars. Little do you know, while you're tinkering away with the devices needed for tonight's first phase of the mission, you're humming a song absentmindedly with Gaz still looking at you. He's busy with cleaning his weapons at the table too, but he can't stop staring at you. Meanwhile, Ghost is just looking between him and you before grabbing Soap's attention for a second to also look at the increasing gay tension between you two. Finally Gaz says something. " Hey Cryptid, what are you humming? " " Hm? Oh, uh... hell if I know, I just do it sometimes. " " Sounded a lot like Katy Perry's TGIF. You sing? " " Probably better than you do, why are you asking? " " Maaaybe because I'm curious? " " Okay that's fair. " You look up from what you're doing and stand up, stretching a bit. " Well you got me talking, what do you want to know about me? " Gaz chuckles a bit. " Where do I begin? Uhh... y'know what, I want to know why you've been creeping everyone out for the past month. " " Easy, to fuck with everyone. It's how I got my code name. Anything else? " " What's your real name? " " It's Shiro Hasegawa, but tell anyone and I'll cut your tongue out while you sleep. " Ghost decides to stand at the table and join the conversation too. " Alright, my turn. What's with the tattoos? You look like a doll. " " It was a dare I took literally, back when I was in college. Mama didn't raise no bitch so I got a whole body tattoo to my friends' horror. " You put everything back as you talk. " Next question. " " How'd you lose your eye? You don't have to answer this. "

Under the light of the Full Moon.

(Japanese mythology meets Call of Duty, an AU.)

Normally, when someone hears the term 'Mythology', they'd think about creatures they'd find in fables and legends like dragons, demons, spirits and so on. No one knows if these creatures exist, let alone the gods and goddesses of every culture... but you do. You don't really go by your name which you keep a secret, but everyone you know calls you Cryptid. Why? Well there's a whole list to go through to explain. For starters, you're able to move your body in twitchy and creepy ways like the way the nurses from Silent Hill move, as well as make unnerving bone cracking sounds to add that extra layer of creepiness. In addition to that, you have a whole body tattoo that resembles that of a doll with movable joints in the fingers, wrists, elbows, shoulders, back, neck and so on. Aside from that, you're incredibly flexible and can fold yourself perfectly into a box, and yes you've gone trick-or-treating as an amazon package before. Your footsteps are as quiet as a mouse, you're capable of many hidden talents you keep secret simply for fun, and you're capable of throwing off so many people. Appearance-wise you fit the stereotypical look of an outcast of society who seems creepy but is 'misunderstood', heavily introverted and timid around everyone while being easily intimidated by anyone who looks at you. However, that's not the case. You're quite the social butterfly and you love to trick people, especially after they confirm that you're this innocent and misunderstood introverted bean. One moment you easily sneak out of a public setting and stay by yourself, the next you're drunk off your ass singing Katy Perry's 'Last Friday Night' to the pleasant surprise of your friends. Sadly though, you and your friends were separated. Why? Because you're also an SAS soldier. You're a special case though, you are an excellent stealth soldier with exceptional fighting skills and fitting in the smallest of spaces to gather intel without making a single sound. COs have fought tooth and nail for you but the only one who won the fight was Captain John Price. Normally a new face would arrive via helicopter and meet the team in the breakroom at the base, but this time, you met them a different way. - - - You arrived in a box. A simple box among other boxes full of equipment with your codename labeled on your gear. Price had led the team into the lounge room and showed off every box, letting everyone look inside and admire the weapons, gear labeled with the name 'Cryptid' on them, and even some basic clothing. Of course there are a few boxes labeled 'DO NOT OPEN' so they weren't opened, until they got to your box. It's a simple medium-sized box without any holes in it so it's incredible how you breathed through the whole shipping process, which you won't tell anyone how. One would assume it'd be heavy if a whole-ass human was in it, but it was decently light. You feel Price pick up the box and gently place it on the floor away from the other boxes, gathering everyone's attention as he cuts the tape keeping you inside with a knife and steps away. Had it not been for the face mask you're wearing, everyone would tell you're grinning as your hand opens the flaps of the boxes and gently feels around the floor before sounds of cracking and popping bones echoes out as your arms and legs twist and bend when you get out of the box. In a few minutes, you're standing upright and stretching yourself out before you open your one eye and look at everyone. Only three people are wearing masks but the rest share the same look of shock, surprise and fear. Price proceeds to stand next to you, crossing his arms with a chuckle. " This is Cryptid, I've heard great things about his feats and knew he'd be a perfect fit for our team so I expect each of you to welcome him. He's one of us now. " Normally the others would introduce themselves but you know exactly who they are. Before any of them spoke, you address each and every one of them. " Ghost. Gaz. Soap. Konig. Horangi. Alejandro. Rodolfo. Roach. "

[uglyshirtsinc]

Mcu was incredibly funny on Illumina's pov, Ranboo was also funny but in a loud way. Something happened to Ant but a certain ender child was screaming about "Our lord and savior Tubbo!" So I didn't know what happened. -AV

AV WHAT ARE YOU WATCHING WHERE CAN I FIND THIS

[lovelytsunoda]

maybe, baby // daniel ricciardo

summary: daniel and his fiancée decide it’s time for a baby

authors note: something to tie you over while I write daniels chapter of the one direction series

definitely happens at the beginning of contract season when all the piastri rumours are circulating and he thinks he might get replaced

he realized that it was time for him to think about what was coming next

daniel and his girlfriend had gotten engaged right before the beginning of the season, and it was becoming obvious that things were moving in a certain direction for the couple

so one day they were having dinner on the patio at his parents farm in perth

and he just looked up and said “I want a baby.”

because he always has, the time has just never been right for him and y/n

which turned into hours of conversation about logistics and practicality and fears about becoming parents

gigantic pros and cons chart weighing every eventuality before the decision was finally made

so much research and preparation

imagine the cocky look on this man’s face when he finds out how often you have to have sex in order to have a baby

of course there’s worry at first if the sex will start to feel like a chore

but danny isn’t about to let that happen

it’s different every single time

the entire summer break is spent trying

rough, hard and passionate sex over the kitchen counter, the kind that leaves handprints in skin

fingers gripping granite so hard the skin turns white

“look at you, so eager to make me a daddy.”

messy sex first thing in the morning, headboard slamming against the wall as he pounds into her

his back against the headboard as y/n rides him, tits in his face just the way he likes it

“daniel, oh god, right there, just like that…fill me up, give me that baby”

soft and romantic, with rose petals all over the duvet as they spend hours lost in each other

defo goes out and gets some silk sheets if he didn’t have them already

“I can’t wait to have a baby with you, my sweet sweet girl.”

he definitely bought a karma sutra book for them to try, begging y/n to test out all these new positions with him

the summer break is coming to a close and daniel needs to fly out to belgium

he’s stressed, between contract negotiations and trying to make a child

so y/n decides that they need to take a break from it all

and that’s the night it finally happens

they’re wine drunk and tipsy from dinner, sharing a bottle of champagne back in the hotel room

not thinking about baby making, not thinking about contracts

total relaxation

a night that reminds them why they fell in love with each other in the first place

they find out about eight weeks later, she’s with him at a Grand Prix when she keels over in the garage during free practice

at least four cars come into the garage again and don’t leave because everybody is crowded around the medical tent

daniel is literally shaking with worry, lando is next to him trying to calm him down

when he’s finally allowed to go in, he has to go alone

and that when the doctor tells them: y/n is pregnant

they’re both in the tears, lots of whispered ‘I love you’s

the crowd outside the tent has gotten bigger, basically the entire grid now wants to know if everything is okay

and then danny comes out and everything goes quiet

and then he just simply says ‘I’m finally going to be a dad’

and the entire room starts cheering

cadence elizabeth ricciardo is born nine months later

and daniel knows that everything is going to be okay, regardless of what the future has in store for him