#she also got fired for calling into work too many times so that's entirely on her

[theamazingannie]

Spent the past three days in a really low place cuz my mom was being her usual moody self and I've spent all this time thinking it was my fault and having my dad basically say it was all my fault and being absolutely miserable over it only to find out that she got fired Thursday morning and no one bothered to tell me and THAT"S why she was being moody but everyone decided to take it all out on me :/

[makncheese12]

Top Shelf

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Jenna Ortega x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: being the kid of a well-known book store owner was easy, so was running into famous people. But being book smart doesn’t make everyone people smart.

Warnings: my writing, language(bad words😯), my attempt at being funny, mention of gun shots and head shots, mentions of my favorite book(literally love Ruta Sepetys sm omg.

A/N: part 2? I am going to make you all suffer through the most oblivious slow burn. R if going to be so dumb/oblivious it’ll hurt you all🫶🏻

Word count - 3.6k

Credits: @novmoth (my friend from school who feeds into my delusions and gives me more ideas for this story🫶🏻)

(bare with me English is not my first language🥲 I’m getting help from my friend to edit it)

You were born to it.

The books. The films. The music and video games.

It was your life, literally. With your parents being owners of the infamous establishment called ‘top shelf’, you had no choice but to.

And you wouldn’t ever change.

Books upon books, movie after movie, games old and new and music that could last you weeks. Who would want to change such a life?

Your father was the first to start it.

He was poor man in Washington but had just enough money to buy it from the man who owned the small movie shop before he retired. He slowly started added book shelves and video games to the mix. Getting few customers but enough to survive day to day during the time of his early years

Your mother was a wealthy run away. Wanting something different and new in her life when she met your father. The man was playing on his game boy behind the counter before he saw her.

The poor boy and his run away wife, a classic really.

The rest after that is history.

As soon as they found out your mother was pregnant with you, they used the rest of her money they saved and went to New York where they bought the huge abandoned apartment complex.

They broke all the insides down and built what you now know as your second home. Hundreds of video games, films and music in one section and thousands of books in another.

Thus, Top Shelf was born only two weeks after you.

You met many friends there in the comfort section where students and business people worked as you all goofed off.

Your had also met your small friend group during your younger years, the four of you all never letting your father have the peace he wanted and dragging him all over New York.

With the thousands of books and hundreds of video games and films your parents sold, you had money. Lots of it.

But your mother made sure you never let that get the best of you, never. It went against everything she went for when she ran away.

She would make sure you would work for and earn everything you got, always.

She never let you have too much online activity, in case her family found you and made sure you were both street smart and book smart.

Your neighbors made sure you were street smart more than anything but you still gave her credit for trying.

Though, the book store was beautiful in every season. Winter was a favorite and when it was busiest. It was too your favorite.

Your father lighting the public fire place, your mother setting soft seasonal music, hell even the cheesy Christmas cartoons on the TV’s set the mood for the perfect bookstore vibe.

The lights dim just enough to where it almost felt like dark academy yet the plants that grew down the upstairs railing made the entire place feel more alive.

————

“Bullshit!” You yell out as you throw your head back onto the head rest of your chair, groaning loudly as the photo sound of your death snapped in your ears.

“Man, he’s fucking using cheats!” Dru calls out through the mic before his name pops up above to yours in dark red on the screen as you respawn.

“Of course he is, he’s a pussy.” Mj says, as her name, too, pops up on the screen.

“Oh come on, guys!” Lyle says through his staticky mic. “You all just suck.” He laughs

“Now I know your cheating, dude. Your mic is acting up again, just like last time!” Dru says, the sound of his voice booming louder than needed and you roll my eyes.

“DD, just because you like to replay games without using cheats doesn’t mean the rest of us do.” Lyle says in a matter-of-fact tone.

“It’s multiplayer, stupid! It’s meant to be fair for everyone!” Dru says making you snort. “Says the guy who chases around little kids and steals their horses making them cry.” Mj says making Dru blow into his mic making loud, unnecessary noises.

“Quit that!” You say taking one head phone off your ear. “Tsk tsk tsk,” Lyle starts. “Such a sore loser.”

“I’ll show you sore loser, get on Elden ring and we’ll test your irritation.” Dru says, mic now muffled by his own spit.

“Your tank build is not enough to stop me, comet azur will always save the day.” He says in a sing-song voice.

“And you call me a try hard, yet you’re the one always using a broken spell.” Dru complains. “Theres nothing I have to try hard at when I can just hold a simple button.” The sound of Dru’s groans become louder as his spit clears out from his Mic. “Same thing!”

You laugh once again before picking up your phone and looking at the time.

“Shit!” Your eyes go wide at the sight, 8:48 AM.

You quickly throw the head set off and push yourself out of the chair, opening your closet grabbing a quick pair of jeans and a hoodie before rushing to put it all on.

Your cat skids across the floor, startled by your sudden movements before a crashing in the your pile of books and out the door.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mumble as you jump up and down to put on your shoes, failing at not falling and race toward the door. “Sorry!” You call to your cat who yells at you next to his food bowl.

You grab your keys and rush out the door before slamming it shut and locking it.

“Ay, y/n!” Your neighbor, Rosa, shouts from beside her door. “Quiet will you! I just put Nona to sleep!” She yells raising her news paper tapping your head with it.

“Sorry! sorry, Señora Rosa.” You whisper yell as you try to push her weaponized hand away. “I’m just a little late.”

“And I just got a moment of peace! Quiet!” She says giving you one last wack making you try and shrink away from her as you rush toward the stairs.

“You got your pepper spray, right?” She calls and you raise your key chain to show her the attached small can. “¡Buena niña!”

You rush down the stairs and push passed the glass door, almost slipping on the ice before running down the street.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket making you quickly take it out.

“Hello?” You ask without knowing who it was.

“Arthur Morgan would be very disappointed at your sudden disappearance from an important mission.” Lyle says before sighing.

“It’s multiplayer, there are no main missions.” You say, trying to avoid the ice on the ground before stopping at the red hand across the street. “Plus, we were in the middle of four way 1v1. He’d be more upset that we were going against each other.”

“Loyalty is everything in such a game,” he says, sarcasm in his voice and you imagine him shaking his head. “Of course he would be upset at my bullet in DD’s head.”

“Why’d you call me exactly?” You ask watching the hand turn into a green man walking before taking off again.

“Well, you just yelled ‘shit!’ Before disappearing on us, had to make sure someone didn’t break in and kill you.” He replies casually as if he knew that weren’t the case. “But after hearing you continue on your ‘shit’ rant and the door slam I figured it was okay, just had to call and make sure, y’know?”

“Ever heard of a text, loser?” You ask, barley missing a man walking and looking down at his phone. “Gross,” he says before making a gagging noise. “why waste such time typing when I can simply just hit one button?”

“You’re so lazy.” You laugh out loud as you run across another street. “Work smarter not harder, Y/N. You should know this with that big brain of yours.”

“What if I want to work both smarter and harder?” You ask, running up to the glass window to see the books lined up. “Well, then your just weird.” You roll your eyes.

“Just kidding. I guess you can do both, I just personally prefer the alternative.” He says as the sound of guns shooting fills the phone. “Yeah, also sorry about leaving.” You say pushing into the store being greeting with the familiar smell of books and the warm smile of my mother.

“I forgot I had to get ready for work.”

“You’re at top shelf?” He ask and you reply with a ‘mhm’. “I might stop by later to say hello actually, I need a new game anyway.” He laughs as the sound of Dru yelling in the back ground becomes more prominent.

“Sounds good, see you loser” You say as you take your sweat shirt off, leaving you in your tank top you hand before leaving. “Later,” you hear him say before hanging up.

“Good morning,” you hear your mother say as you pull the staff sweat shirt over your head and pull up your sleeves. “Mornin’,” you reply before kissing her cheek.

“Wheres dad?” You ask looking around before your eyes setting on the woman stack a pile of books into one pile.

“He’s going to be out of town for a few days,” she says carrying the pile to the check back station. “A vacation, I insisted as I continue your training.” She says making you smile.

“We both know he needs it, he’s getting older.” She says and your smile fades as you nod. “So are you.” You mumble and she, too, nods.

“You know him getting old is different from me getting old.” She states, sighing quietly.

“What’s todays task?” You ask, quickly changing the subject at the sight of her sad frown. She looks at you for a moment before smiling once again.

She moves to storage closet and unlocks it, allowing you to see the boxes upon boxes along with stacks of different other things.

“To be a good store owner, you have to know your customers.” She says returning with a large box that you quickly take from her.

“Just put it on that table — and to know your customers, you must socialize and help them throughout the store.” She finishes as you take the box to the table noticing the label romance written across it.

“That also means having to work while helping the customers, so you’ll be on stock duty as well.” She says with a smile.

Yes.

You mentally say to yourself. Stock duty required work of you finding the places of different books, movies and games which also meant finding new things you didn’t know about before.

“One more thing,” you mother says as she walks behind the counter to finish opening up the store. “No head phones.” Your eyes go wide.

“But ma!” You call out to the lady who switches the sign from closed to open. “What else am I supposed to do when I stock!” You call, holding onto the white cords and swinging them around.

“Help the customers and socialize.” She laughs out making you frown. “I should call CPS.” You mumble carrying the box to the sorted area before hearing the woman’s laugh.

“Sure, call ahead but don’t be disappointed when they decline a twenty year old.”

You roll your eyes before continuing down the aisle.

“And after you sort those, get the others out of the storage closet!” You huff quietly as you glance back with a small playful glare on your face.

“If I wanted to work out, I would have gone to the gym.” You say and she rolls her eyes. “You’ll be just as sore in the morning, trust me.”

————

Hours hand passed, since you last seen the romance box having moved on to the horror section of the films.

You search through their placement areas, looking at all the old cinematic master pieces, the many Dracula films placed neatly next to each other, in order of both year and name.

Horror was one of the favorites when coming here, your father being a collected through his years he had many people couldn’t get their hands on.

Sure you could watch it online now but where’s the fun in that when you have a real copy with the static noises and written voices on screen. Some people still had some class left in them.

You hear a book hit the floor making the library echo as heads turned toward the cause of the sudden interruption of their silence.

“Shit—” You hear someone say quietly, making you roll your eyes as you place the rest of the CD’s in their rightful places before making your way toward the aisle the noise came from.

You subtly make your way toward the aisle while acting like your checking the books before taking a peek around the corner.

You see a rather short girl — shorter than the third shelf — craning her neck to look up at all the books in front of her.

Just to your luck, your mother placed a box for that genre next to the end of the shelf and you picked it up.

You make your way down the aisle and set the box toward the middle before looking up the girl who was already staring, and boy was she something.

Freckles littered across her tan skin, strands of her short hair fell from her half up half down style, her eyes — damn her eyes — they were the prettiest brown you’ve ever seen.

You smile lightly before picking up the first book and reading both the authors name and the title while trying to slow down your racing heart.

Who was this girl? Matter of fact, what was she? She wasn’t a regular, that’s for sure but you always get random people coming in so it didn’t exactly matter.

After putting away a few books, you glance up to see the girl a few feet away and on her tippy toes, reaching for a book on the fifth or sixth shelf.

You snorted quietly catching the girls attention making you quickly look away to keep yourself from laughing.

“You think this is funny?” She asks and you begin shaking in quiet laughter.

After a few moments, you compose yourself and stand shaking your head.

“No, not at all. Would you like some help?” You ask taking step toward her. She narrows her eyes. “Are you making fun of me right now?” She asks, both amusement and annoyance in her voice.

“Why would I do that? It’s poor customer service.” You say with a smile before watching her own smile grow.

“It’s poor customer service to laugh at a customer.” She mumbles before stepping back. “Please.” You walk up and grab the book.

“Look how easy that was.” She says, taking the book you held out for her. “Being six-foot-two does have its perks.” She says looking over the back of the book.

You roll your eyes but your smile only grows. Looking down at the book you nod and raise your eye brows, “that’s a good one, read it a few years back.” You say, making your way back to box of books.

“I’d hope so, for all the work I had to do to try and get it.” She mumbles making you smile and shake your head. “Anything else good?” She asks, looking down to you.

“You’re asking me if there’s anything else good in here when there’s just by the look of it thousands of books here?” You ask, smirking at her when she rubs the back of her neck.

“Yes, there is, I’ve read more than I can count. My recommendation board is up by the front desk if you want to check it out.” You say before placing crave by Tracy Wolff into the slot.

“You must have come here a lot before working then? If you’ve read so many books from here.” She asks, following hot on your trail with the book tucked between her arm. “Oh, for sure,” you say nodding. “The owners and I are real close, we were together a whole nine months before I was born.”

Her eyes widen slightly at the information. “You’re parents own this place?” She asks, gesturing to the entire book store and you nod, smiling.

It felt like you were a teenage boy, flaunting his muscles to a girl he finds attractive.

“Wow,” she says looking around once again. Book still tucked tightly into her arm as she did so. “Just wow. Your parents have taste.”

“More like their people pleasers.” You say shaking your head. The real other reason why horror is so popular in the movie section is because of their request.

Every week they check their request list and buy everything people ask for. New books, new movies, new music and games, there’s always something new. You’re surprised there’s still room, then again the place would be as big you supposed.

“They like having their customers choice their number one priority. It’s good business.” You say looking up to the girl who had a look of wonder in her eyes as she stared down at you but there was also something else. Something you couldn’t quite place.

She stares at you for another moment before speaking again, “do you.. know who I am?” She asks and your furrow your eye brows in question.

“Should I?” You ask tilting your head. She stares for another moment again, eyes scanning your face and it’s features as if searching for something.

Her smile then grows, as she shakes her head. “You shouldn’t, or rather shouldn’t have to. It’s just a surprise.” She says, tucking her hair behind her ear.

You knit your eye brows together in confusion.

She walks out of the aisle and you catch the light smile on her face as she does.

What the hell? You wonder to yourself as you place the last few books away.

You were pretty sure that was the last section, unless your mother put out some more stuff you didn’t notice. You’d just check out the to-do list.

Your mother and father always had one for both you and their own sake. Adding things so no one would forget.

As you made your way to check out, you see the girl walking in the general distraction as well.

“All set?” You ask, placing the box inside the others, moving past the small door attached to the low counter.

“Yep,” she says once again staring at you.

You take the book you got for her earlier along with another you recognize almost immediately. “Between shades of gray?” You ask, looking at her as if she were serious.

“Your description seemed trust worthy enough to make me interested.” You glance over to see your board clearly flipped through before nodding.

You scan both books. “Careful, it’s sad, dark and traumatic. It’s one of my favorites though.” You say looking up at her, she pauses for a moment, staring at you once again and just smiles and shakes her head.

“I think I can deal with a few of those.”

“Bartering or buying?” You ask. “Bartering,” she replies and you nod. “Good, I need to get a review on what you think.” You say with a smirk and you see a glint of something in her eyes.

“Name?” You ask and she looks at you a little confused. “We have to know whose using our books, how else do you think we send emails threatening to charge or get them back?” You snort.

“Oh, your totally right.” she says quietly before taking out her credit card.

“Jenna Ortega..” she says and you nod, typing in the name before reaching for the credit. Her grip on the card tightens at your lack of response.

You pull the card gently but her grip is to hard for you to take.

“Can I… get the card?” You ask, looking around slightly uncomfortably with the stone like stare she was giving you.

“Are you sure you don’t know who I am?” She asks letting go allowing you to swipe the card.

“Again, should I?”

You both stare at each other, both confused and entrapped by the other.

You find is strange how she thinks you know who she is or why you don’t know her.

Maybe she was some big deal somewhere off and you still have yet to hear about her.

Her name did ring a bell but you weren’t sure. Was she a person you knew from your child hood? An old friend trying to reconnect? Maybe some relative on your moms sent by the older ones to investigate if it was really you.

“Miss Ortega?” You’re both broken out of your thoughts as two large men stand behind her. “Time to go.” he says gesturing to a few people who were standing and staring in your general direction.

One grabs the bag off the counter before quickly walking towards the door.

“Looks like I gotta go,” she says, smile now suddenly shy with others watching. “Don’t worry, I’ll return your book Y/N.” She says before walking toward the door, one of the men right behind her.

“Yeah, you bet-“ you pause after the the realization hits you. “Wait, how’d you-?” You begin to ask before watching her gesture to her chest.

You knit your eyebrows together, you look down to see the name tag right under the library symbol.

She was strange.. cute.. but strange

Read next sort here!

A/N : Some parts once again rushed🧍🏽‍♀️This is just an introduction I suppose, the details will get better I tried my hardest🥲

[dottybot]

Lost housing and almost killed by our landlords

(Twice)

C*sh app: $dottybot

V*nmo: @dottybot

@translesbo's Paypal: huront499@gmail.com

My partner, @translesbo, and I after signing a lease, were put through 2 big gas leaks during times we had planned on and had been close to sleeping in the apartment. The entire time the place made us sick and was hard to breathe in with a strong awful smell and remained unihabitable, causing us to be without a home since July 3rd, 2023 due to it.

We are a brown latine lesbian couple and both trans (her transfem and myself tme cafab) and autistic along with other disabilities, and have 2 esa cats.

The whole time during the lease, the landlord would excuse the lack of cleanliness and poor maintenance of the building with that it was an old building, deny things she once acknowledge, and imply that we were just lying or causing the problems and even giving us trouble with getting out of the lease. But before that it led up to 2 big gas leaks.

To not make the post appear too lengthy, the rest is under a cut.

So the 1st gas leak, we were earlier sure about taking and about to load up the cats with us to all attempt sleeping there for the night, only last minute getting the feeling like we should not bring them and then deciding not to. Once in the apartment, we were there, windows shut the entire time, for 3+ hours. I went from the regular struggle to breath, head pain, and sickly feel to escalating much more and becoming very out of it, struggling to stay awake to beginning to feel so out of control, and I never would have guess we were being poisoned due to the state it had already put me in. Kat only noticed by chance, the smell of gas by the oven, when she was just starting to feel more off, which we otherwise wouldn't have spotted with how strong the place smelled. We were so close to not noticing it at all.

Kat had been barely able to drive but got us to the nearby ER, and doctors confirmed the gas poisoning, and kept us there for 3 or 4 hours through the night until recovered enough, fortunately due to it being short term, we had no lasting damage on our bodies, just both felt very ill the next day, and myself barely able to move I remained sick from it for 3 days.

That morning, Kat had contacted the gas company as the doctors suggested, though they could not do anything as we followed the leases direction and were not notified during the event, so no one but the apartment maintenance would be able to even confirm it happening. However, the fire departmen came with a firetruck, since it was also recommended by the doctor to get the place checked out by them.

The landlord later called, after us updating her of current apartment issues promptly as per lease requirements, and this call she went too far. She kept up with her same tactics but worse. She tried implying either we made up that there was a leak or we intentionally gave ourselves gas poisoning (like we were still very sick from the previous night) and was then many times claiming everything is fine with the maintenance man the landlord insists "he knows what he's doing" and "no one has ever had a problem with him", because we had included our concerns with him-- this guy had tried making kat sound like she overreacted and didn't know anything, kept claiming that "Gas does Not spread" so we should have been fine, not having any effects of poisoning, along with other contrary claims.

Anyways, the landlord lady was very clearly implying she thinks we are liars about there even being a gas leak, implying we didnt contact the gas and fire department which she claimed to "work closely with so they wouldn't lie, because she contacted the places and no one had documentation since maintenance was the only one to witness, it was her word against ours. This is when we realize due to the lease instructions to forgo contact to a third party professional to fix gas leaks, we would not be able to have paper documentation against her to prove it. She even "randomly" asked the name of our previous apartment place, and mentioned threatening like "didnt you have a gas leak there too?" As even more reason to accuse us, and saying she may have to contact our previous apartment place and saying how odd she thinks it was to have another leak, though this one worse,

On the 3rd day, after the 1st leak I was still feeling ill only starting to recover, the 2nd leak happened. this time we had to bring our cats with us, since we had no where else to stay with our previous lease over, and the apartment still uninhabitable and made us both more sickly, and still feared being there.

Earlier in that day, we were reassured multiple times that it was fixed and that "the stove SHOULD be putting out a gas smell for the next hour or 2", and that it means it's "Fixed, working" the maintenance man kept insisting, even the landlord lady was there strongly confirming multiple times it was true because "he Knows what he is doing" again, even confirming therepair was checked later in the day to make sure there was no leak and that it was safe.

We were afraid to go back after the 1st leak after how badly to us at least it seemed to be pouring out earlier in the day and their claim that it was supposed to be that way, but it was the only option we had.

We were unsure if we were just overreacting for a while and imagining the smell, it was several hours laters with all windows having been left open, though eventually calling our gas company this time to get proper documentation and a professional, since the smell had not diminished.

Kat was told by the gas man that gas was shooting out, and he's seen fires breakout from similar.. so we had to get Out.

Which led to us being homeless and having to sleep in the car and soon after, we were fortunately able to stay at Kat's parents house though they do not have space for us, keeping us and our cats in her nephew's small cramped room, with Kat sleeping on a broken bed that is messing with her scoliosis, and me havung to sleep on the floor for over a month now really taking a toll on me. And our cats have been under constant stress, making them require more care and expense.

This whole thing has made me lose my job, has been traumatic for us both, and lose easily over $2,500 into cost of the apartment and our repairs alone, and $250 on an attourney that did not try to help much but was able to get us out of the lease. On top of kat recently being wrongfully stopped by a cop for a made up reason, giving her a $135 ticket, along with having to take a 5 week un paid leave of absence to be able to help deal with our situation. And we can no longer put off car repairs, we have put off this whole year since it sputters most of the time instead of starting now along with other concerning issues.

We have currently been trying to find better jobs and a place to live, though due to the unstable living situation and and loss of income it has been more difficult to find a place.

So, any mutua*aid if you have the means and any reblogs would really help and be appreciated a ton

[thefallennightmare]

Miracle-ten

(gif created by me, the fallen nightmare. feel free to use, simply give credit)

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: I told ya'll I was having thoughts about Noah's fingers.

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13 @thebadchic @notmaddihealy @jay02bo @beaker1636 @jakekiszkasguitarpick @punk-pr1ncessxoxo @er3nslovergirl @iamdesolate @lma1986 @jessitpwk @themodern-daywednesday @writethrough @bngurngheart @dreams-that-are-anwsered @loeytuan98 @omens-in-reverse

"I promise, I shouldn't be that late tonight," I told Lana as I was rushing though the house gathering my things.

She simply shoo'd me away by a wave of her hand and handed me my camera bag and jacket.

"Don't rush back, dear. Finish your work and whenever you get back, I'll go."

I sighed, coming to a stop at the front door. "You deserve to have the whole night off, Lana."

Her worn hands cupped my cheek, and I leaned into the warm touch. "I'll have the entire morning and afternoon off tomorrow. Now, go before Mr. Sebastian fires you for being late."

Ignoring the way my heart rate sped up at the mention of Noah, I rolled me eyes, and I called over to my mom who was sitting on the couch in the living room watching television.

"I'll see you later mom. I love you!"

She barley looked over her shoulder at me, her vacant eyes staring straight through to my soul then simply turned back to the show. Lana gently patted my cheek, dismissing me, and with a sad sigh, I let the front door shut behind me and walked towards my car. It was in the same spot I left it two weeks ago before I left for the road.

Yesterday after realizing what Noah had gotten tattooed, I ran back to my room to call an Uber to bring me home a day early. I was already on edge from the comments I read online and the phone call with Lana that when I saw that tattooed on his thumb; it was the breaking point. My mind was a fog of so many emotions and I didn't know which one to process first.

My phone had plenty of missed calls from Folio and Noah, some texts as well, but I ignored them. I meant what I said to Noah; I needed space. There was no reason for him to get a meaningful tattoo like that, we weren't dating. What if we end up hating each other and he has to look at that for the rest of his life? It was meant for the pet name he calls me but he might as well had tattooed my fucking name on him.

I got home late last night and spent the entire morning well into the afternoon with Lana and my mom, even though she didn't recognize me. That I was used to. What I wasn't used to, however, was how different my mom looked. In the two weeks I had been gone, she lost weight and dark circles surrounded her eyes. Lana also mentioned my mom had been a pain in the ass to give her meds too but did regardless. She knew she needed them to make her feel better, something I've told her countless times.

Once it reached four in the afternoon, I knew I couldn't avoid Noah any longer and had to go to work. I sent a text to Folio saying I would be at the venue by five, which he responded with four words.

Cool. Also, Noah's pissed.

Great, as if I don't have other shit to deal with.

The drive to the venue was quick considering it was only ten minutes from my house and after making sure I had everything, I walked through the back entrance to where Folio said the green room would be. Shifting into work mode, I pushed out all the thoughts of Noah and my mom, instead of thinking of differnt kinds of media I could get for tonight. Much to my dismay, the Bad Omens message boards were demanding to know what Noah's tattoo was for losing the bet and I knew I couldn't deny them that.

Loud voices echoed through the wood of the door before I stepped through it, various sets of eyes landing on me.

Jolly and Nick gave me a small wave.

Bryan was recording Folio goofing around; typical.

Matt was talking to one stagehand, probably something about making sure everything runs smoothly tonight.

And when my eyes finally landed on Noah, I noticed he was taping up his hands, his actions slow and precise. He noticed the talking stopped so his eyes landed on me as I stood in the doorway, hand still gripping the doorknob.

Before I could open my mouth to utter a hello, Noah was on me like a hunter on prey with his hand wrapping around my wrist and pulling me back into the hallway. Once the door was shut, he pressed me against the wall next to it.

"What the fuck?" I snapped, completely taking off guard by his dominance.

But also very turned on. The damp spot on my panties proof of it.

"Where the hell have you been?"

Noah's voice was eerily calm which made me nervous.

"I-uh-I came home a day early. You didn't need me for anything so I figured I'd spend time with my mom," I said.

Noah's eyes flashed as he pressed his hips deeper into me, keeping me locked in place. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek to keep the moan quiet because I didn't want Noah to know how much his actions were turning me on.

"Why didn't you call or text me back?" he asked.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I told you I needed space. You got a tattoo for me before we were even dating! How else did you expect me to react?!"

My voice carried down the hall which earned a few stares from people working backstage so Noah looked around before noticing a closet a few feet away from us. He pushed me towards it and soon we were encased in darkness, our heavy breathing the only sound echoing in the small space.

A faint light clicked on from above and I saw only a fraction of Noah's angry expression.

"It's not that big of deal, Y/N. It's a fucking tattoo."

"Yes! One that you'll have on you for the rest of your life and you can't hide it either!" I snatched his hand to hold it up under the light.

If I wasn't so upset about the whole situation, I'd marvel at how beautiful the small design was.

When I went to drop his hand, Noah linked our fingers together and pulled me into his chest. He towered over me so I had to crane my neck back to look up at him, his fire eyes burning deep into my soul.

"You don't think were dating?" Noah questioned.

I gulped before shaking my head. "No, we're not."

He hummed, brushing his nose against mine. "What do you call what we've done together then?"

I was careful to lick my dry lips, not wanting my tongue to brush against him.

"We hooked up, that's it. If you could even call it that. You got me off twice, no big deal," I lied with a shrug.

Noah chuckled as he buried his face in my neck, his warm breath cascading over me as his hand gripped my throat, thumb on my pulse point.

Oh. Shit.

I squeezed my thighs together so hard I thought I would strain a muscle. I had every intention of ignoring Noah, only focusing on work, but now with his hand around my throat and wetness pooling between my legs, I knew I was fucked.

Figuratively and possibly literally.

Hopefully literally.

With a gentle squeeze, Noah forced my head to the side so he could get better access to my neck, him working to leave a red mark there. His teeth scrapped and pulled causing a harsh moan to fall from my lips.

"This isn't dating?"

I went to shake my head but realized I couldn't do to his grip on me so instead; I let out a hushed no in response. With the hand still wrapped around my throat, Noah's other hand brushed over the valley between my breasts, down my stomach, and slipped underneath the waistband of my leggings. Long fingers glided over my slit through my panties and I bucked my hips up into the touch, needing more.

"What about this?"

Noah pushed two fingers past my panties and sunk deep into my pussy.

"Fuck," I groaned as the sensation of his fingers thrusting in and out in rapid pace ignited every cell inside of me.

This hand was taped while the other around my throat was only halfway, the black material hanging loosing against my chest.

"You said it meant nothing but what's this angel?"

He pulled his fingers out, the sudden emptiness making me whine. He smirked as he held up the two fingers under the light and my pupils dilated when I saw them glisten with my arousal coating the tattoos. Noah brought them to my lips, his own pupils blown with lust.

"Lick," he demanded.

Something inside me burned other than arousal and I stood taller against him.

"Lick them yourself," I tossed back with a smug smile.

A muscle ticked in his jaw and he forced my mouth open with the hand around my throat and pushed his two fingers past my lips.

"Be a good fucking girl and lick them clean, angel."

My core clenched around nothing and suddenly wanting to obey because of the praise, I wrapped my tongue around his fingers and licked up my arousal. I didn't even cum but his fingers were soaked. Noah's chest vibrated in approval when he pulled his fingers out, a loud pop echoing in the confined space.

"On your knees," His hand left my throat and pushed he down.

Not wanting to disobey again, I felt to my knees and gazed up at him through my lashes. Noah cupped my cheek and brushed his thumb over my bottom lip.

"You did so good sucking my fingers. Why don't you do that to my cock?"

The base of my spine ignited with warmth at his words and I made quick work of undoing his black cargo pants, the outline of his hard dick pressing, almost begging, to be released from his briefs. I gaze back up at Noah, a silent question one he answered with a nod.

I pushed down his pants and briefs to mid thigh and watched as his cock bounced free, slapping against his thigh.

"Oh, God." I licked my lips at the sight of it.

"There's no god here, angel. Just us," Noah guided the head of his cock towards my mouth, pre-cum spilling out from the slit. "Open."

Not wanting to waste another second, I took in as much as I could, nearly gagging on the length of it. Noah tasted so fucking delicious and whatever I couldn't fit in my mouth, I wrapped my fingers around it. While my head bobbed up and down his length, sucking as I went, my hand squeezed and pulled. At one point, I hollowed my cheeks so I could take even more of him. Noahs hands had a death grip in the strands of my hair and the burn at my scalp made me moan which vibrated against his cock.

"So good, angel." He purred. "Oh shit, right there."

I pressed my tongue on the underside of him, right below the head, and my body vibrated with his praise. The wetness between my thighs was now warm and sticky, my clit begging to be touched so I went to slip a finger in my leggings but Noah's harsh voice stopped me.

"Don't you fucking do it. You walked away from me, Y/N so you don't get to cum."

My nails dug into the sink of his thigh, making him hiss in pain, but his grip was so tight on my scalp that I wasn't able to pull off of him to argue. I was so close that just a few short circles against my clit would be enough to tip me over the edge.

"You're mine." He enunciated each word with a thrust.

"Mhmm," I hummed.

His breath was erratic. "I'm yours, angel."

This time I nodded, working harder to make him come undone.

Noah's body tensed and when I looked up at him, his head had fallen back and lips were parted. Sheer ecstasy radiated off of him and it made me want to make him fall apart for me. My tongue circled the head of his cock while my hand now played with his smooth balls and Noah bit out a strand of curses.

"Fuck, angel. I'm gonna-," he uttered.

I moaned over his cock, edging him on, and with a loud groan Noah spilled himself deep in the back of my throat

"Every. Last. Drop," he demanded with languid thrusts into my throat.

I did, greedily.

With his grip still in my hair, he yanked me off of him to my feet and I wiped away the drool with the back of my hand. Noah lifted me on top of a set of crates in the room and kicked my feet apart so he could spread me wide for him. I leaned all of my weight back on my hands and lifted my hips when he began clawing at my leggings working to take them off.

"Noah," I whined. "Don't tease me, please."

His intense gaze flashed up at me. "I had every intention of not letting you cum but now I want to taste you on my tongue when I make you fall apart."

Noah Sebastian will be the death of me.

He slipped me out of both my leggings and panties, leaving me bare in front of him. My knees instinctually pressed together to hide from him but his large hands forced them apart, leaving bruising marks there.

"No, angel. You don't get to hide from me. Anything. Alright?"

I let out a soft whimper, knowing when he said anything, he truly meant that; anything. I could tell him things I were afraid of and he wouldn't judge me or run away. Noah didn't want me to hide from him and after this moment, I wouldn't.

Not anymore.

Seeing the answer on my face, Noah yanked me closer to the edge of the crates then leaned down on his knees becoming eye level with my drenched pussy.

"Fuck," his breath fanned over it. "It's so much prettier in person."

I was so gone in my haze of a brain that I didn't fully catch what he meant by those words.

My nails dug into his scalp to force him closer to me; I was aching for some kind of friction, almost begging for it.

"Please, Noah. I can't," my voice sounded wrecked.

His tongue darted out to lap at my clit, and I almost came. Noah licked from my clit, down the entire folds of my entrance and when he speared his tongue into me, I cried out his name.

"Say it again," he ordered.

"Noah," I rasped.

He replaced his tounge with two fingers, going knuckle deep, while his tounge attacked my clit in such an assault I raised off of the crates trying to create some distance. Noah's free hand held me down with a hand on my stomach before sliding up underneath my shirt and bra to pinch and pull on my nippels.

This was it; the dam was about to burst, my orgasm so fucking close to crashing through my entire excistance.

Noah's fingers pupming in and out, his tounge's ruthrless licks on my clit, and him rolling my nipple between his thum and finger was enough for me to strangle out his name in a prayer, my orgasm causing my body to quake underneath him. When the after shocks began to fade is when Noah finally pulled away, my cum coating his lips and jaw.

With my hand gripping his forearm, I pulled him up while I met him halfway, legs wrapping around him. I smashed my lips to his, our first kiss being inside of a dirty storage closet meant nothing to me. It didn't matter where we were, our first kiss with each other would be special regardless.

Noah didn't miss a single second of the kiss, him immediately forcing his tongue in my mouth so I could taste myself. I groaned in the most intense, teeth clattering, tongues dancing, lips bruising kiss I'd ever experience. Noah kissed me like a man starved and I was his last meal.

Finally, needing to take a breath, I pulled away and rested my forehead against his.

"Wow," was all I said because after everything that just happened, the kiss was the most knee buckling one.

Noah beamed at me before laying another quick peck on my lips. "I've wanted to do that for so long."

I brushed the hair out of his eyes and nodded. "Me too."

His eyes had softened back to their normal brown as he linked our hands together, showing me the tattoo on his thumb, the one that started our argument.

"Let's get one thing straight, Y/N. I won't regret this tattoo. If we don't work out, it'll be a great story. I didn't just do it to show you how important you are to me, I also did it because I lost a bet and I keep my promises."

Noah's last words had more meaning that he meant and I took it in with a small nod.

"Okay," I murmured.

He gently helped me off the crates and once on my feet, Noah pulled up my panties and then my leggings as I brushed my shirt back down to cover my stomach. He must have tucked his cock back into his pants without me knowing because he shut the light of the closest and pulled me back into the brightly lit hallway. I blinked a few times so my eyes could focus and when they did, they saw the three other members of Bad Omens staring at us with amused expressions.

"We were wondering where you two headed," Jolly said.

My cheeks burned red as Noah wrapped an arm around me to pull me into his chest. "Sorry, we got a little distracted."

Nick chuckled. "Well, we were supposed to go on five minutes ago so if you're ready."

"Oh fuck," I muttered. "How long were we in there?"

Folio ruffled my hair then handed me my camera. "Awhile"

I took it with a smile of thanks then turned back to Noah. "You should go, you're already late."

He merely shrugged and left another kiss on my lips. "Worth it."

Giggling into the kiss, I playfully smacked his chest then pushed him towards Jolly, who began leading him to the stage. My fingers went to my lips which were still tingling from Noah and for the first time in a long time, I enjoyed the thought of the future.

[andrevasims]

Here's the text that can appear in pop-ups when a sim watches the weather channel:

— Summer: —————————————————————

• When it's a really hot Summer day, sometimes I think about cold things, and my mind tricks my body into thinking it's cooler than it really is. Except one time I thought about too much ice cream and it made my stomach hurt.

• Sorry, but I can't help you today. I'm out at the pool.

• Why do they call us Meteorologists? I have never predicted a meteor in my whole life! They're scary. If you see one, let me know and I'll tell people. I'm on TV, you know.

• I'm having a bad day. Just go outside if you want to know about the weather. Stop bothering me.

• I've wanted to be a weather man my entire life. Sure other kids thought I was weird playing with my barometer during recess but I knew I was meant to affect people's lives.

• Weather prediction is a serious science. I have a college degree in it. At least I think it was a college. It was all done on the Internet, but I got a shiny certificate in the mail!

— Fall: —————————————————————

• My advice for today? If it rains, wear a jacket.

• I used to like playing in leaf piles. But not as much anymore. They're itchy.

• You know when people say things like "It's raining cats and dogs out there!" Well, that doesn't happen. Trust me. I've checked.

• Oh, what's the big deal? It's hot, it's cold, it's raining, it's snowing. Who cares? It still doesn't change the fact that my job is basically to look out the window. You know how depressing that is?

• I was struck by lightning once. It didn't feel so good. I put a lightning rod on my roof after that and it hasn't happened since.

• I just love playing in a great big pile of leafs. Burning them is fun too. Except when you accidentally set someone on fire. Poor grandma. Her eyebrows never grew back.

— Winter: —————————————————————

• It's Winter. Wear a sweater. Does that help?

• Sorry. Couldn't make it into work today. It's too cold out there!

• When I was a kid, I made up my own superhero. I was "The Boy Weather - Master of the Forecasters!" My mom made me a cape and a mask, and I ran around my house shouting things like "Chance of Showers: 50 percent!". I fought off evil tornadoes and powerful hurricanes with my powers of prediction. I didn't have many friends.

• I had the worst Nightmare last night. I dreamed I was being chased by a penguin and he wanted to hit me with a fish.

• Did you know Penguins can't fly? They also have a natural resistance to polar bear attacks.

• I always wanted a pet penguin but my mother said that I was too young. I asked her again yesterday, but she said that I should let it slide.

— Spring: —————————————————————

• Can you help me out with something I've always wondered about? If you're in the pool, and it starts raining, do you get more wet?

• It's allergy season out there. The pollen count is off the charts! I'm sneezing just thinking about it!

• I have the greatest job in the world. I can be completely wrong nearly all the time and never get fired. When I make a mistake, I can just shake my head and say, "What are ya gonna do? It's the weather!" How sweet is that?

• Don't look to me for all the answers! The knowledge you seek is just a small step out your front door.

• We've been hearing reports of lightning striking tall trees in the neighborhood, so be careful out there!

• Hello. You have reached the Weather Station. We're not in right now, but if you leave a message after the beep…

[astermath]

sweet like you🍓pt. 2

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: carmen helps you out with perfecting your pastries to present them to your boss. you spend time getting to know each other in the place he knows best; the kitchen. things take a slight turn when you get back to your apartment.

word count: 3.1K

PART 1

notes: I really enjoy writing carmen tbh, I guess writing him is my way to giving his character some peace outside of his usually extremely stressful life. this got suuuper long im so sorry sdfgshj i got kinda carried away.  let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content!

warnings: mentions of suicide/death, addiction, use of alcohol, cursing

Carmen hated nights.

At least during the day, he was forced to do things, be productive, talk to people, keep his mind occupied. But at night, it was just him. Alone with his thoughts. The only thing keeping him company his cynical mind and deranged dreams.

That night was no different.

Carmen woke up in a cold sweat, hand clutching at his chest as he sat up. He nearly gasped for air, and upon noticing how shaky he was, got up to splash his face with cold water. That didn’t help much either, so he went to his balcony (if one could even call it that), and lit a cigarette. The sun was already coming up, and he knew he wasn’t getting much sleep again feeling like this.

He sighed, smoke emitting from his nose as he pulled out his phone. You’d replied already, even given a time. Reading your words made him feel slightly more at ease, slightly more... Real. A reminder of his obligations to the people around him, but also, and he’d never admit this, something to look forward to.

[carmen]: absolutely, see you then

Your next shift went by smoothly, as per usual. The French themed café you worked at had become such a big part of your life, not that you minded, you were in love with it. And as much as she’d deny it, you could tell the owner had taken a liking to you. You heard from the barista that most waitresses would get fired within a month or so, but you’d stuck around for three now. 

“She said you have a certain ‘je ne sais quoi’... I think you remind her of her younger self.” Your colleague said while pouring out a cup of coffee. 

“Right,” you took a tray and readied another order. “You sure you didn’t imagine that? I don’t remember Odette ever saying something nice to me before.”

“Not to your face, no.” She grinned, putting the cup on your tray. “I’m sure you’ll get her to put some of your stuff on the menu, she just has to warm up to it.”

“Yeah, just,” you grabbed the tray, balancing it with ease. “Give me a few decades to work her through that.” You both chuckled as you walked off to continue your work.

Carmen stood across the street, looking through the window of the café. Shit, he was way too early, and that wasn’t even usually like him. He’d left the Beef over to Sydney while he was gone, telling her he had something important to take care of. And although that wasn’t entirely untrue, he wasn’t sure she’d agree if she found out he was hanging out at some café.

He slipped into the place rather sneakily, deciding that if he was gonna have to wait, he might as well do it in there. It had been a while since he’d been inside, usually just to get a quick coffee or something, and he’d never paid much attention to the décor before. He was kind of impressed, despite being smack dab in the middle of Chicago, the café had a true Parisian feel too it. Sure, he’d never been to Paris, but he could imagine this was pretty close.

He sat down at a booth near a window and stared outside. He felt a bit uneasy just... waiting. There were so many things he still had to do, so many debts to pay off, things to consider, to change--

“Carmen? Is that you?” 

Your voice snapped him out his train of thoughts, it almost felt like a ray of sunshine breaking through a dark cloud. He turned and saw you holding a menu, dressed in a cute dress and an apron. 

“Yeah, I uh... Got here a bit too early, my bad.” He gave an apologetic, halfhearted smile. 

“It’s no worries,” you handed him the menu. “You can just enjoy a coffee or something while you wait! What would you like?” You pulled out a notepad and a pen.

“Oh, uh... Christ...” His eyes squinted as he scanned the laminated menu. “Am I goin’ crazy or is this all in French?”

“Nope,” You chuckled. “It is. When I told you the menu hadn’t changed, I meant really, nothing has changed.”

“Fuck, alright, uhm... Just a regular coffee then.” He handed the menu back. “Please.”

“Comin’ right up!” You chirped, and he watched you make your merry way back into the kitchen. He could’ve sworn you damn near floated by how excited you seemed. He didn’t really understand it. You worked a waitress job where you weren’t allowed to change anything, you had to work early on Saturdays to help your family out and he could have guessed you probably still had time to maintain a healthy social life. It almost annoyed him how well balanced you seemed.

But someone as cute as you couldn’t possibly annoy him. 

He received his coffee not long after, thanking you and admiring the porcelain for a moment. The more he noticed about this place, the more... Uneasy he felt. He didn’t realize why, and he kept mulling it over until long after he’d finished his drink.

Ah.

Because the Beef looked like a garbage dump compared to this.

And he owned that garbage dump.

He hated himself a little for comparing the two, they weren’t comparable at all besides both serving food and drinks, but the fact that you were only two blocks away didn’t help. And he was about to be helping you too, his competition.

The crew would kill him if they knew where he was at.

You worked on closing up, cleaning a few last cups and arranging them neatly before walking back to Carmen’s table. “Hope you enjoyed your coffee my good sir, but I must request you to join me in the kitchen, for I have prepared a mighty array of desserts for thou.” You grinned.

“Alright, alright, I get it.” He got up, ready to follow. “Don’t I gotta pay for that coffee?”

“S’on the house. Come on, we’ve got pastries to try!”

The kitchen closely resembled the rest of the establishment, although much more homely. It was small, doable, but just a little cramped. 

You pulled out two stools for the two of you to sit on, before going to the fridge and taking out a tray. “Alright, so...” You put it down on the counter. “Here we’ve got classic cheesecake with a cinnamon cookie crust,” you pointed at each dessert, “a cream strawberry tart, and last but not least,” your fingers fluttered in a ‘jazz hands’ way, “tiramisu topped with fresh strawberries.”

Carmen scanned the tray before him. The presentation was immaculate, but he found that often with these types of desserts the looks were better than the taste. He hoped that wasn’t the case.

You sat across him, more nervous than you initially expected to be, as he tried each of the desserts. He had some notes about each one, as expected, you were just an amateur cook, but you could tell his eyes lit up a little when he tried the tiramisu. 

“Mm,” He hummed, putting his spoon back in for another bite. “Shit, that’s fire chef...”

“Chef?” You raised an eyebrow. No one had ever called you that before.

“Sorry,” He swallowed, “Freudian slip, my bad.”

You chuckled. “No, no, I don’t mind... The tiramisu is a family recipe, actually. My nana used to make it all the time.” A nostalgic smile graced your face. 

“Those are usually the best.” He thinks back at the food him and Mikey used to make when they were younger, and somehow, it makes the tiramisu taste even better. “So, anything else you wanna add?”

“Oh!” You were a little caught off guard by his question. “Uhm, well... Now that you mention it, I’d love to add macarons, to play into the French theme of the café. I’ve just never been able to get them right, and trust me, I’ve tried.”

Carmen puts away the empty glass cup. “Do you want me to teach you?”

“Huh?” You were sure you misunderstood at first, but the look he gave you was telling you he was at least expecting an answer. “Uh... Sure, yeah! I’d love to! I think we still have all the ingredients here from my last attempt too.”

“Great.” He got up, clasping his hands together. “Let’s get to bakin’, chef.”

The two of you stood next to each other at the counter. His jacket was off, now replaced with a baby pink frilly apron, supposedly the only one you had. You’d been relatively quiet, mostly focusing on taking his advice and following instructions. But as he was sifting almond powder, and you were beating egg whites, he had this strange urge to fill the silence. It was weird, usually he preferred working quietly, but it was almost strange to hear you not talking when you were there.

“So... You’re not from Chicago, are you?” He kept his eyes on the sifter.

You grinned, still whisking away. “What gave it away?”

“You smile a lot,” he took the bowl from you and held it upside down to check the consistency of the egg whites, “and I haven’t seen you light a single cigarette.” He put the bowl back and started weighing off some sugar. “So either you’re not from here, or I want whatever drugs you’re taking.”

You chuckled at his remark, finding his self deprecating humor quite amusing. “No, you’re right. I grew up on my parents’ farm, though it’s not too far from here, I never really came close to the city. Moved here about three months ago, so I haven’t explored much.” You took the sugar from him and gradually started adding it to the egg whites. “What about you? Born and raised?”

“What gave it away?” He joked back. “Born, raised, moved away for culinary school, worked in New York, now I’m back.” He sighed. Being back in Chicago was... Strange. Because after not having seen his brother for literal years, he was now constantly confronted with everything that reminded him of Mikey. Including his business.

“Interesting.” You started working together the mixture, sneaking glances at his face every now and then to gage his reaction. “So... What brought you back?”

A longer silence followed your question, and you could tell his hands even stopped moving for a moment. Suddenly he seemed tense, and you worried if your question had struck a cord. 

He swallowed, eyes fixated on the ingredients before him. “My brother.”

“Oh! Well, I’m sure he’s happy to see you back.” You offered a kind smile.

“Yeah, I uh... I’m not sure he would be.” He glanced at you, eyes quickly darting back to the vanilla extract he was measuring out, uncomfortable with eye contact when he talked about Mikey. “He died.” His eyebrow twitched slightly. “Suicide.”

You stop whisking for a moment to look at him, and you can tell his face had reddened. You feel awful for pressing him on such a sensitive subject, but you had no idea.

The two of you continue to prepare the batter in complete silence for a good minute. Both of you feel bad. Him, for dumping this information on you, and you, for even asking about it.

“I’m sorry,” you speak up, filling up a piping bag with batter, “I had no idea.”

“S’okay,” He runs his hand through his hair, a nervous tic, almost. “I’ve been trying to talk more about it. Especially since I kinda run his business now.”

“Well, if it counts for anything,” You give him another sweet smile, and this time, it does actually make him feel a little better. Silently, he wished they could put the feeling your smiles gave in pills, so he could take those instead. “I think he’d be proud of you.”

He doesn’t reply. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he doesn’t know if he agrees. He doesn’t know what Mikey would think, and from what he’s heard from Richie, he’s not even sure if he would recognize the person his brother had become through his addiction. But the possibility is there, and you reminding him of it was enough. For now, at least.

He noticed you struggling with the piping bag and got behind you, hands sneaking over yours to help you hold it correctly. “There we go.”

Carmen doesn’t seem to notice how close he is to you. Or how warm your face had gotten. Or how the way he smelled was distracting you from listening to what he was saying. Cigarettes, coffee and sandalwood... A strange, but not unappealing mix of scents. 

You turn your head just a slight bit and catch a glimpse of his blue eyes. They were so bright, piercing almost, but they held such a profound sadness behind them. You wondered what else they held, what other stories he struggled to talk about.

Carmen noticed you weren’t watching what you were doing and looked up, accidentally meeting your eyes now. And then he realized how close he was, cheeks growing flushed like a teenage boy as he let go of your hands and took a step back, clearing his throat. “Shit, uh... My bad.”

You chuckled nervously. “It’s fine, I appreciate the help.” You leaned down to preheat the oven.

“Yeah… Anytime.”

A while after, the two of you were presented with perfect, pink tinted macarons. You smile proudly, hands on your hips as you admire the final product in front of you. “Man, we really nailed those, huh?”

Carmen smiles, a little sleepily. It was starting to get dark outside and he hadn’t even had dinner yet, but he felt bad about having to interrupt your baking session. Usually when he was in the kitchen he was focused, collected, he was making a product that he had to be proud of. But he’d been open to you, he’d laughed, he almost felt… Relaxed. Maybe that’s why he was feeling sleepy.

That, or the insane lack of sleep was catching up to him once more.

You looked outside and noticed that the sun was going down. “Shit, how long have we been here?” You checked the time on your phone. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, I had no idea it already got this late... Uh, if you want I’ll drive you home?”

“Yeah, that would be--” His sentence got cut off by the sound of his stomach growling loudly. The two of you stayed quiet for a moment as Carmen put a hand over his abdomen, clearing his throat, a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I uh... I haven’t eaten anything today besides those desserts earlier.”

Now you really felt guilty. Not only had you kept him at the café for way longer than you should have, but you were nearly making the poor guy starve. “Tell ya what,” You handed him his jacket and took off your apron. “How ‘bout you come back to my apartment and I’ll make us both dinner. I’m no expert chef like you, but I can cook a mean pasta!”

He hesitated for a moment. He hadn’t been to someone else’s apartment in so long, let alone someone he was interested in. But he supposed it was better than being alone in his apartment again, probably heating up a shitty frozen meal because he was too tired to cook.

Your apartment was nice. Well, nicer than his at least, although that probably didn’t mean much. For only having lived there for three months, he could tell you’d really added your own touch to the place.

“Welcome to mi casa!” You playfully bowed, allowing him to enter and closing the door behind you two. You tossed your keys onto the counter and took off your coat, ready to get to cooking. “You can settle on the couch, put something on, I got Netflix if you want. I’ll have dinner made in just a sec!”

Carmen moved with caution. This was... Unknown territory. He knew you were probably just being friendly, but this was a pretty big step for him. He had his boundaries, his walls firmly set, and you were jumping over them like it was nothing. It was just... Easier with you, somehow. To open up, to talk.

Not long after he’d chosen something to watch, you arrived with two deep plates of pesto pasta with mozzarella and diced tomatoes. “There we go, I always make this when I don’t feel like cooking.” You handed him a plate and a fork, before settling down next to him. Your couch wasn’t that big, so your shoulders were touching the entire time.

The two of you were watching a cooking competition, something you didn’t realize would revitalize Carmen so much. Not because he liked it so much, but because he was so focused on the mistakes the contestants were making, and felt the need to point every single one of them out to you. Your two plates stood empty on the coffee table, along with a bottle of red wine and two, very empty glasses. 

“Now, see this,” he pointed at the TV, “can’t believe they’re even allowed to air this, this is a disgrace to cooking. The fuckin’ idiot hasn’t touched a single spice this entire episode!”

The both of you were both kind of tipsy, and you were leaning against him now, smiling to yourself as you tried to withhold laughter from every serious comment he made.

“And now--” He looked at you and realized you were hanging on for dear life not to break out in giggles. “What’s so funny?” He asked with a grin.

“N-Nothing, nothing!” You chuckled, leaning away from him so he wouldn’t see your expression.

“Ah, so now we’re shy!” He poked your side, the wine doing wonders for his confidence. “Come on, let’s hear those laughs then!” He continued poking you, and you couldn’t take it anymore, the ticklish sensation making you squirm. You grabbed his arm and pulled it away from your abdomen, making him fall forward onto the couch. He caught himself, hand resting on the armrest, now leaning over you.

You looked up at him, and god, maybe it was the alcohol speaking, but you swore he’d never looked hotter. Leaned over you, curls framing his face, strong arms surrounding you. His gorgeous blue eyes staring down into yours, tension growing between the two of you.

So you couldn’t help yourself.

You leaned up, capturing his lips in yours, a hand coming up to rest on the back of his head to pull him in further.

He froze, eyes only fluttering shut after a few seconds, melting into the kiss as his hand came down to rest on your waist. His mind ran blank, nothing plaguing his mind anymore, all besides one thought;

“Damn. She tastes even sweeter than those strawberries.”

tag list <3

@beebslebobs @thatone-brightstar   @spr3id   @deadandstill  

[coca-lastic]

Unhappy Christmas! | F. odair

Warning: ANGST, mentions of forced prostitution, mean!reader? (Idk lol)

A/N: My first language is not English and blah blah blah

_____

"Merry christmas!" You shouted excitedly at Mags.

You had won the 67th hunger games and, after going a little crazy, you started to overcome it. Obviously it is impossible to completely overcome it but, unlike before, now you know how to be happy. The other Vemcedores of District 4 had helped you find your way out of the fog that embraced you and sent you back again and again.

You could easily say who was the person who helped you the most, the one who gave you a hand when the darkness was consuming you and he got you out of there. The one who said words so your brain wouldn't shut down completely. The one who hugged you so you wouldn't fall even though your legs didn't respond to your call.

He's always been the one to help you, ever since his family helped yours not die in a fire when you were 6 years old. Since then he has always been there for you.

And you would like to do the same.

But lately that seemed like an impossible task and you didn't even know why, you didn't know what was wrong, you didn't know what was changing him. That's why you decided to invite him to the Christmas gathering with your family and Mags (Who, since your games, is also part of the family).

"Do you know if the bakery will be able to sell the cake?" You asked the old woman.

"They said they would have it ready by the afternoon my girl, stop worrying"

"No no no, this has to go well Mags, we've been enjoying a meeting for a long time without someone going crazy, and it's usually me, so I have to have everything under control" You said as you walked around the entire room, checking and criticizing the decorations.

Mags sighed with a smile on his face as your stress continued to grow, you had always been such a perfectionist. "If you keep this up you'll probably collapse before the meeting. Sit down, I'll bring you some hot chocolate."

"But Ma-"

"No buts" she said and walked at a slow pace towards the kitchen. You followed her, Mags was very strong but sometimes her old age worked against her.

"Maybe if Finnick would deign to help" you murmured annoyed, you were the one who had invited him, but he could have the desire to help with something, right?

"Oh...Finnick?" Mags said, looking at you with a look somewhere between amazed, compassionate and sad. That was not a good sign.

"Yeap, I invited him too, lately he's been a little... weird" You said, sitting quietly on one of the kitchen chairs and crossing your arms over your chest.

"My girl... I don't know why he didn't tell you but... Finnick- he's not here" And again, a sad and compassionate look but this time not at you. His gaze was completely fixed on the floor.

"Wha- What are you talking about Mags?" You laughed in disbelief, he accepted the invitation, he is going to come. "He told me-"

"He told you what you needed to hear, my girl. You love Christmas, he has no right to ruin what you had planned."

"He's doing it anyway. He's supposed to- He's supposed to come." You ran out of the kitchen, straight into your room.

Normally you wouldn't get like this, you had to change many plans with Finnick, it was normal. But it stopped being that way when he had been doing it for months, with every damn invitation. You open the doors of your friendship, of your kindness, and he closes them as if you were one of the many girls who are lining up to have him.

_________

Angry, stressed and more angry.

The meeting had already started. There was your family, other neighbors from Victors Village, and some friends of your parents. But he wasn't there, and that made you angry. Because you did this for him, he loved socializing but now he rejected any situation in which he could do it.

Before he took you out of the darkness and now that you are out you want to be in the illuminated area with him. But he is not there. It's like he didn't get you out of there, he just replaced places. And you are no longer able to find him, you do not see a hand to grab and pull, he is not here, not there, he is not anywhere.

Oh, and the damn cake wasn't ready yet.

"If that fucking cake doesn't arrive, I'm going to hang myself" You said annoyed in the patio of the house. You were waiting for the person to take him to your home but he didn't arrive.

"Calm down little one" your father said next to you.

Your impatience was beginning to radiate from you. Your mind only thought bad words and all of them were directed towards the bakery... and a few - or maybe many - towards Finnick.

"Look, it's here. Don't even think about tipping them!" You said towards your father. Sometimes anger makes you a bad person.

Both of you waited for the young man with a hood over his head to approach with the cake, but instead he continued straight, specifically towards Finnick's house.

"Is that Finnick? Didn't you say that he wouldn't be in District 4 today?" No, it couldn't be that you planned a damn mini party so he could fit in. The idiot pretended to leave so he wouldn't attend.

"I'm going to go say hello dad..." You were going to say a lot of things, but hello wasn't on the list of what you planned to say.

Finnick opened the door to his house and with a staggering step he entered, he was about to open the door but you screamed for him not to.

He closed it anyway.

Wow, today he was earning your fury. It's no longer a metaphor, he literally closed the door on you as if he were a stalker. And honestly you'd had enough of that. You had had enough of being ignored repeatedly in the last few months.

"Finnick come on! You lied about the Christmas party and you can't even open the fucking door to apologize?!"

Silence, he didn't answer you. You looked out the window and you didn't see him, you didn't see the friend to shout at, you only saw the darkness that he had entered a few seconds ago.

The window was open and, once again, anger made you a bad person, so despite creating several scratches on your hands and knees, you managed to enter through the window.

"You son of a b-" you screamed as you fell from the window to the floor.

"Y/N? What the fuck are you doing?" The spotlight turned, illuminating the room they were in.

"You! This is for you! Couldn't you be so kind as to open the door for me?" You stood up quickly, pointing a finger at him aggressively and approaching him.

"I- I didn't hear you knock-"

"Of course you listened! It's just that you've apparently changed so much lately that you couldn't even have a bit of fucking consideration."

"What are you talking about? Y/N what the fuck happened to your knee and why are you coming to my house like you're a fucking murderer totally bad at his job?" She raised one of her eyebrows, but her body remained relaxed on the couch, as if you weren't bothered at all.

"Do you want to know what happened to my knee? Well, I got hurt because you couldn't OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!" You moved further towards him. and probably thanks to your scream Finnick got up from the couch, confused but still relaxed. "Oh! And you know what? I threw a whole damn Christmas party because we're both supposed to love Christmas and YOU DIDN'T EVEN DEIGN TO COME! What the fuck is wrong with you Finnick?"

"Ok... you're a little upset, aren't you?" He put his hands on your shoulders and crouched down a little so he could look you in the eyes.

And normally you'd punch him but he's your friend, so you kept eye contact with him. You looked at his eyes helplessly, with impatience, but in his eyes for some reason you only saw sadness and sadness. They were a little red, as if he had cried, when he blinked his eyelids took a little longer than normal to return to their place and his eyelashes were shiny. "Look, I'm sorry, I had to leave in an emergency, okay? I figured the party was already over so I came straight home."

"There's literally loud music and people outside the house, unless you're blind, deaf and stupid, no, the party's not over." Tears began to build up in your eyes, 'and it made you upset with yourself. You didn't want to cry in a serious discussion.

"Well, I'm an idiot then. I'm sorry, okay? I swear I'll be there at the next party" he walked away from you a little. Sitting back down in the chair.

"Damn Finnick, I don't give a shit about the upcoming holidays, what I care about is that the last few months you've changed and I haven't even been able to change with you!" You said in a broken voice, tears already sliding down your cheeks and your mouth curling to try to contain the sounds of sadness.

Finnick didn't say mad, he just looked at you. And no matter how much you've been with him for 12 years, you couldn't decipher that look. He looked like the 14-year-old boy who was thrown into the sand again. He seemed without hope, without happiness. The only shine that was in them was tears. that showed their sadness but I don't know that it trickled down their cheeks, the pain that he kept only for him, that clouded only his vision.

"Finnick...I just want to know what's going on with us. Why don't we walk around anymore, or p-play or just- just talk? Why-why don't we do that anymore?"

"I..."

"Just tell me Finnick, because I'm trying but I don't even know what I have to do."

"I-I can't, I can't tell you. He-he doesn't allow it," Finnick said with a broken voice, lowering his head to the floor. You approached him and knelt in front of him.

"Who is he Finn? What are they doing with you?" You grabbed his face and made him look into his eyes, as teary as his own.

"Snow... h-he's worse than he looks..." he sniffed and bit his trembling lip "h-he's s-so cruel, he's a m-monster."

And just by saying who is responsible for why your friend is shedding salty tears, fear came to you. You knew that this man is capable of too many things and that scares you. It scares you that he showed that prick to Finnick and you didn't. You're scared that Finnick is cracking and you don't know how the first crack got.

"I've changed...he's changed me y/n and I dislike that" he sniffed again "and if you find out how he's changed me you'll probably never- you'll just walk away"

_____

What happens when there is so much darkness that no way out has been discovered?

What happens when fear overwhelms you?

Fear is darkness, and darkness is blinding. The problem is that fear is infinite. Everyone has a different fear, some are afraid of the dark, others are afraid of spiders, others are afraid of the sea, others are afraid of blood, others are afraid of heights.

But what happens when you are afraid of fear?

That's what happens with you. You know that the boy you have loved for a long time is afraid, and that scares you. But you can't do anything because the fears are infinite, the fear remains and blinds you.

The fear of your disappointment, the fear of your disgust, the fear of showing what he has become has blinded him. And you have seen it. But you don't know where that fear comes from, you don't know who or what is producing it.

So for now you only have to observe, continue fearing, remain scared but attentive, wait until the moment when his fears are weak, the moment when hope removes the blindfold from his eyes. And at that moment have it again.

Seeing that boy again who, although fear has changed him, will continue to be the same boy who loves having a nice Christmas.

[vivwritesfics]

Shine A Light Into The Wreckage

Chapter Ten - Fired

Bob Floyd was many things. He was an instructor at Top Gun, a lover of Tolkien books and a huge fan of coffee. But Bob was also clumsy. That was how he bumped into the table, knocking her drink onto her notebook. He felt bad about it. Bad enough to come back time and time again, in the hopes that she would be there. And, every time, she is. Each time looking a little worse for wear. It doesn't take Bob long to realise he has to save her.

Series Warnings: Abusive relationship! Abusive hair pulling! Abusive choking! Forceful sex! Domestic abuse! Seriously don't read if you're affect by stuff like this! Talks of stalking (but in a non serious manner), talks of non consensual groping. she gets called a whore, choking, SA, 'missing' birth control, blood, pregnancy, hint at child abuse (not explicitly written)

Series Masterlist

Things weren't right, they both knew that. But they were pretending things were normal and, for the time being, pretending was good enough.

After a week of pretending, three weeks of her living in his home, Bob knew he had to address things. Not the baby, not until she was ready.

He sat beside her on the couch as she reached for her drink. Not coffee (something she was certainly missing). "Hey," he said, voice almost nervous as he looked at her face. But she wasn't nervous. No, she looked normal, and that was terrifying.

"Bob," she replied, holding her cup of water like it was a steaming mug on a cold day.

He sucked in a breath. "Do you want me to drive you into work? You know, talk to your boss so you can take time off and not get fired?"

She let a smile cross her face and put her cup down. "Thanks, Bobby," she said and stood. She went into the spare bedroom that had since become her own and got changed into the "grandpa sweater" Bob had brought home for her the other day.

She held it up to her nose and breathed in, but it didn't smell like him. It should have. That would have made her grandpa sweater perfect. But she didn't let it bother her as she left the room.

The moment she stepped out of the spare bedroom, Bob reached for his keys from the bowl.

She followed him out of the house. While he locked the front door, she climbed into the passenger seat of his truck. The entire time she was focusing on Bob, watching as he locked the front door of their house. No, his house. Not their house. It was his.

Her hand settled on her stomach. As soon as she realised she pulled it away as if she had been burnt, let it drop into her lap.

"You okay?" Bob asked as he climbed into the truck. He looked at her grandpa sweater and let himself smile. But his smile wasn't wide, it didn't meet his eyes.

She nodded and turned on the radio as Bob pulled out of the driveway. He hummed along to the radio and she turned it up just slightly, head against the window.

Moments like this with Bob had been few and far between since he'd gotten her out of the apartment. But she loved them, cherished them. Bob glanced at her for just a second, but she kept looking at him. She couldn't help it.

After Ken, she'd expected to be so fucking terrified. And she was, but not around Bob. Bob, Bobby, Robert. He was a man like no other. Every hand he had laid on her had been soft and gentle, to help her instead of harm her.

His fingers drummed against the steering wheel as she directed him towards her office. When they drove past the café where they'd met, past her old apartment, she couldn't look away from him.

Looking at Bob kept her panic at bay. She didn't know what it was about him, but he made her feel so goddamn safe.

He parked up outside of her office building and killed the engine. Sucking in a breath, he turned his attention towards her. "Want me to come with?" He asked, voice soft and sweet and gentle.

He was too good for her, that much was clear.

She shook her head. "I think I have to do this one on my own," she said as she climbed out of the truck. And then she turned and braced her arms on the seat. "Wait here for me?" She asked with a quirked brow.

"Of course!" He responded, usually deep voice squeaking slightly. And then he ever so quietly added, "wouldn't dream of going anywhere."

Maybe she should have stopped grinning by the time she walked into the office. Her bottom lip was pulled between her teeth as she knocked on her boss's door and thought about the man in the parking lot. The one with the glasses that he thought were ugly but she thought were so damn cute.

"Come in," her boss called. She let her lip fall from between her teeth and strode into his office.

His eyes widened as he looked at her. But then the surprise dropped from his face and he rolled his eyes. "If you've come to beg for your job back, don't bother," he spat and returned his eyes to his computer.

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "My job... what?" She asked and he rolled his eyes again. "Dave, have I been fired?"

Dave shrugged his shoulders. "You didn't come into work for weeks, what did you think was going to happen?" He spat back.

Helplessly, she turned and looked towards the office. Where her co-workers were. Well, ex co-workers, she supposed. "I'll pack my things," she said.

"No need," Dave said quickly. "Marjorie already packed your shit up."

She backed out of his office. As she walked around her co-workers desks, she couldn't meet their gaze, keeping her eyes fixed on the ground. It was a mix of embarrassment and hopelessness as she made her way back to the annex.

"Hey, love," Marjorie said gently. She grabbed a box and placed it on top of the desk. A box full of her things. It was real, she really had been fired. "You'll be fine. You'll get on your feet in no time."

Sniffling, she grabbed a hold of the box. "Thanks, Marge," she said and took her leave. There was nothing left to be said, no point pleading for her job back. It was a shitty job, anyway. A shitty job with a shitty boss, she tried to tell herself. But she still wiped at her tears as she travelled down in the elevator.

As she walked out of the building, Bob reached over and pushed open the passenger side door. "How did it go?" He asked as she approached. He hadn't yet noticed the box in her hands or the look on her face.

Not until she placed the box on her seat. "What's this?" He asked as he reached into the box and pulled out a frame picture. A framed picture of her and Ken at their graduation, looking sickeningly in love. He placed it back, face down.

She wiped at her eyes and grabbed the box again, shoving it into the back of the truck. "I've been fired," she spat and climbed into the passenger seat. But then her head dropped. "I... he was right. I haven't been in for weeks. I don't know what I expected, really," she mumbled and sat back.

Knocked up, jobless, homeless. Fuck, she was gonna throw up.

"Oh, God," Bob whispered, his hand coming to rest on her knee. "I'm so damn sorry, Doll," he whispered.

But she just shook her head and rested it against the window. "Wanna go and get some junk food?"

The nod she gave was only small, but Bob still caught it.

Bob took her through the drive thru. "I don't wanna go back to the house," she whispered as Bob paid for their food. They drove to the next window, collected their meals, and then Bob drove off.

He thought about it for a moment. He parked up in the car park as he debated where to take her. He knew she only meant to the time being, but the images that flashed in his mind had the tips of his ears turning pink.

Her in Montana, collecting eggs from the chicken coops with him. Wearing one of those dresses that showed just how round her bump was. Squeezing into his small bed with him and sitting with him on the porch as the two of them watched the sun set. Bob's grandmother would love her, and his sister would come to visit nearly every day.

The spot he parked up in overlooked the beach. It was busy, family's on picnic blankets, kids building sand castles and dad's stood in the water, talking about something or other. It was just them in the spot that overlooked it. Nobody came to disturb them, not midday dog walkers, nobody.

"Thank you," she whispered as she stared ahead, at the gentle movement of the ocean. She cradled her bump in a way he hadn't seen her do before. It was, quite frankly, concerning. "I-I genuinely don't know if I'd still be alive if it wasn't for you."

It was horrifying, terrifying to hear. But, mostly, Bob hated that he couldn't disagree with her. He let gaze travel to her bump, but didn't let it linger.

No, he sucked in a breath, gathered all the courage he had. "Do you want to get out of here?"

Her eyebrows raised as she wiped under her eye. "Out of here as in out of the car?"

"I'm trying to be serious," he said quickly, but he couldn't stop his own laugh. "Out of San Diego. Out of California."

A hum left her lips. "Out of California, huh?" She asked, turning her attention towards the sea. She loved it here, on her good days. Loved the freedom of going to the beach whenever she wanted, loved the café where she did her writing, loved the area she lived in.

California wasn't the problem. But getting out of there sounded real damn good.

"Where would we go?" She asked as she grabbed her drink.

Bob drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. "My family has a place in Montana," he said. "We've got a ranch with horses and chickens and stuff." He leaned forward against the steering wheel and turned himself towards her. "I think you'd like it. My grandpa put seating beneath the oak tree so my grandma could sit and knit while we took care of the cattle."

She grinned, straw between her lips. "Sounds amazing, Bobby," she mumbled as she reached across and touched his shoulder. "Are you sure you can get out of work?"

When her hand met his leg, he stared at it. It felt too intimate for the situation, but he didn't push her away. "I'll speak to Cyclone tomorrow," he said, hand touching hers.

As soon as they had eaten, Bob drove them back to his place. They didn't turn on the radio as they drove, but they still had something important to talk about. "If we're gonna go to Montana, I think you should make a decision about..."

"About the baby?" She finished, pulling her hand from his leg.

Bob swallowed, but he nodded his head. "Yeah, about the baby," he said as he turned into his street.

A sigh left her lips. "I know," she muttered. "Trust me, Bob, I know." Her hand settled on her stomach and a mournful smile crossed her face. "It would be nice, though, wouldn't it? A sweet little baby girl to spoil."

Pulling into the drive, Bob parked. "A baby girl, huh?" He said with a grin. He could see it, her little mini me, chasing the chickens in Montana. It was simply a dream. "You know I'd help you spoil the hell out of her."

Her eyes lit up. But she shook her head, though, and climbed out of the car, still sipping her drink. "You don't have to do that, Bob," she said, following him towards the front door. "I feel back enough that you're letting me crash."

The moment he pushed open the door and let her in, Frodo came running. He let out one long, loud, drawn out meow as he brushed his body against her legs. "Oh, buddy," she said, reaching down to stroke the top of his head.

She spied his empty food bowl, but Bob had her moving out of the way before filling it up himself. "I got it," he said, waving for her to go and sit herself down.

"Can we watch something?" She asked as she sat herself on the sofa.

"Of course we can," Bob replied, the sound of the dry food hitting the bottom of the bowl echoing through downstairs of his little house. "Put on anything you want."

As soon as Frodo had everything he needed, Bob joined her on the sofa as the movie began. Back To The Future, he noticed as he sat down beside her, his arm on the back of the sofa. Immediately, she moved closer to him, making herself comfortable against him. "This okay?" She asked, voice so quiet he almost missed it.

"More than okay," he whispered back, fingers brushing against the skin of her arm.

She fell asleep against him that night, drool falling from her lips and onto his shirt. But Bob didn't mind in the slightest. He halted the movement of his fingers, but didn't move his hand away from her arm.

Bob watched her, but he could never begin to imagine the horrors playing out in her head.

Taglist: @nurse-sainz

@not-nyasa

@burningwitchprincess

@darksparklesficrecs

@primroseluna

@littlemsbumblebee

@wretchedmo

@imaginecrushes

@calpalsbestie

@hiireadstuff

@lyn-js

@emma8895eb

@teacupsandtopgun

@finnydraws

@mp0625

@writtingrose

@afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff

@callsignwidow

@els-marvelvsp

@daggersquadphantom

[lu-vin-it]

could I request Carl Grimes soulmate au where their marks/works/whatever you choose shows up at a certain age and his soulmate is like Daryl's sister or some kid he took under his wing and he's Living when it happens?

Sweet on You

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

Pairings: Carl Grimes x Reader

Pronouns Used: None mentioned

Word Count: 1164

Warnings: None

A/N: Thank you to @yesland for proofreading! Ihy! Also, R calls Daryl “Daddy” because as a southerner, I wouldn’t dream of calling my Dad anything else to his face (even when I visit his grave I call him Daddy 💀) and it isn’t mentioned whether or not R is biologically related to Daryl!!

Up until you were 12 you only really had your Dad, Mom, and Uncle Merle. Your Mother homeschooled you and that was that. When the breakout first happened, you were terrified, clinging to your Dad no matter what. You and your family barely escaped your town, and it wasn’t until a couple hours after you all were on the road that your Mom admitted to being bit. Your Uncle Merle took her down to the woods and shot her at her request.

You guys came across a camp at a quarry and quickly came to the decision to stay there for a bit. You liked it there. You made friends with the other kids there, and overall, had a good time.

But now it’s years later and most of the people from the quarry have died. You still have your best friend, Carl, and you have a few other friends that you met when you arrived at Alexandria, though.

Over the years, you lost count of time, you weren’t sure how old you were, or more importantly, when your soulmark would show up. You knew your birthday was September 27th thanks to your Dad having it engraved in his mind, but you had no way of knowing when that was.

You also knew that Carl’s birthday was three weeks before yours, so when his mark showed up, you’d know that it’d be soon.

And his finally did. It was a messed up heart on his wrist, it was green, his favorite colour, and purple, coincidentally, your favorite colour.

You counted down the days until your birthday. It drove your Dad mad.

“Why the hell are you scratching up the walls?” He asks as he walks into the kitchen and sees you carving a line into the wall with your knife.

“To keep count of how many days till my birthday.”

“Just do it in your head. Ain’t no need for all that.” He says with a chuckle.

“If I do it in my head I’m bound to lose track! Not everyone’s got the memory of an elephant, Daddy.” You tell him, placing your hands on your hips. “‘Sides, I already told Rick and Michonne. They were fine with it.”

“Mhm.. How old you gonna be? Sixteen?”

“Yup!” You grin.

“Big age. Excited to get your mark?” You nod. “Yeah.. It’s a big day. Hey.. uh.. maybe you and I go do somethin’ together? For ole’ times sake?” Your heart soars.

“Course we can, Daddy. Wanna go campin’ like we did for my fifth birthday? We can do it just outside the fence.” He nods.

“I’ll get the supplies ready. When is it?”

“In about two weeks.”

“Alright. You tell me two days before and I’ll get everythin’ ready.” You nod in agreement and walk over to your Dad, placing a kiss on his cheek before going upstairs to yours and Judith’s room.

The night before your birthday came around quickly, and you and your Dad spent the entire day getting ready for your camping trip. At about noon, you both left Alexandria, and set up camp. You set up a fire and then sat with your Dad, talking about your Mom and what she would think of all this. Your Dad didn’t talk about her often, so you soaked it all up.

You both stayed up until midnight, and when the moon was finally in the center of the sky, you and your Dad stared at each other, just waiting for the burning sensation.

“Daddy, I think I feel it!” You looked down at your wrist, and sure enough, a messed up heart was appearing on your skin. He rushed over to look at it too, and you both watched in awe as the mark was finally there. Wait. What? Your jaw drops.

“That.. Ain’t that the same mark Carl has?” You nod. Your Dad breaks out into laughter.

“What’s funny ‘bout that?”

“Nothin’.. Just that you two have been attached at the hip since the farm.. makes sense is all.” You thought about it for a second, yeah, it sure does make sense. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t relieved that it was him. Now you wouldn’t have to look for your soulmate, you’d just go home and show him and everything would be fine. Right?

You barely slept that night. You were terrified that Carl would be upset that it was you. How would you even tell him? Just.. walk up to him? Show him your wrist and say “Haha looks like we’re soulmates!”?

The next morning, you were quiet. Your Dad noticed it. He kept trying to tell you jokes, or show you a bird, or something. But you didn’t really budge.

“Okay kid, what’s got you so.. down?” Your Dad asks as you guys walk home.

“Hm? I’m not down.”

“You are too.”

“No I’m not!”

“Yes you are.”

“I’m not down.”

“Y/N.. I’ve known you longer than you’ve known yourself. I know when you’re down.” You sigh.

“I dunno.. I just don’t know how he’s gonna react.” He raises an eyebrow at you.

“He’s gonna be over the moon. Why wouldn’t he be? Shit, he’s been sweet on you for years.” You stop and look at him.

“What?”

“You didn’t know?” You shake your head. “Didn’t know I raised a dumbass.” You smile and punch his shoulder playfully.

“Shut up.” You start walking again. “And never say ‘sweet on’ again. You sound like you’re a thousand years old.”

When you get to Alexandria, you take a deep breath before going inside. Carl and Enid were waiting for you at the gate.

“Show us!” Enid yells as her and Carl jog up to you.

“Show you what?” You ask, feigning ignorance.

“Your mark, come on!” Carl grabs your wrist. They both see the mark and you anxiously rock back and forth on your heels.

“Say something.” You say with a nervous chuckle.

“Don’t your marks match?” The brunette girl asks. Carl nods.

“Yeah they do. We’re soulmates?”

“Looks like it.” You take your wrist away and look at your feet. “Um.. I better go put my stuff away.” You walk off before they can reply.

You do end up putting away your things, and as you’re putting away your blankets, Carl barges into your room.

“Why’d you run away?” He asks, panting.

“I.. why are you so out of breath?”

“I asked first.”

“You seemed.. upset. I don’t know. I wanted to give you space.”

“Well I don’t want space.”

“Well how was I supposed to know?”

“Well you didn’t really wait for me to say something so you didn’t know.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I’m listening now.”

“I don’t want space.”

“Yes.. I think we’ve established that.”

“Ever. I’m happy you’re my soulmate.”

“You are?”

“I am.”

“I’m happy you’re my soulmate too.” You say with a smile. Carl breaks out in one as well, and before you know it, he’s walking towards you and kissing you.

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

[trashworldblog]

What is hmbomberguy (I can’t spell) ur reblogs are making me so curious but I cannot handle getting into more content/ content drama rn.

hi! yes. so hbomberguy is one of those 2hr long video- twice a year or less youtubers. who make content exploring a topic (like plagerism on youtube, vaccines and autism, etc).

his new video talks about video essay type youtubers who steal all their writing from documentries, books, articles, etc. and makes thousands of dollars off of other peoples work.

james sommerton is the main focus of the video, but he also shows how iiluminaughtii stole from documentries (and even listed the piriting site she watched it from as a source? lol) and internet historian stole an entire article, format, visuals, and all, and got 10 million views for it (and stole so much his video got taken down) and theres this other video game guy that got hired at ign and the got fired from ign for piriting and is a homophobic right wing guy?? (details are fuzzy, this is a 4 hour video i watched once, forgive me).

um. but, the james sommerton stuff just gets crazier and crazier the way this guy just makes a ton of money by lying to his community. he ends up accidently stealing work from one of his patreon members (he stole on purpose, i assume he didnt know who he was stealing from was a patron). he asked and got thousands of dollars to mame a fake (?) film studio that has made no films, and only says theyre in preproduction for a new film every 10 months. he also, yknow, steals from queer voices, basically harming his own community for profit. and when he's called out for stealing, he either shouts homophobia or shifts the blame to his co writer, who probably knows nothing about the plagerism.

anyways. its a bit of a drama thing. but honestly its a lot about how and why we should care about the art and media we consume online, and just how many people who look like they have their life together and are making lots and lots of content, seemingly on their own or close, actually are just stealing from talented people. it heals a bit of that imposter syndrome for people that do make genuine content online, and shows the consumers what making too much too quick actually means for the content they enjoy. the get the equivalent of meat grinded facts mixed with misinformation, subtly changed quotes, and 0 sources, or a laundry list of unorganized and unlabled sources if they want to learn more.

also i like this tweet. summarizes it well for me.

um. but thats my thoughts on it. i liked it because it reminds me that people who are churning out content one-man-show style aren't making the greatest stuff. i struggle with feeling like my work takes too long. but this was a great reminder that im actually making something good (i hope!), or at least, something that is truely coming from me. so its gonna take time to do it. but it'll be worth it because it'll be coming from me. (and also good. hopefully)

also the money hbomberguy is making off this video is going to the people james stole from. so thats really nice.

[astraltrickster]

The thing is - okay, let's humor Matt and say, fine, your story is 100% true. There was a popular user who got banned after being mass-reported and upon review of their (which I use in this intro paragraph because we're pretending for the sake of argument that it could have been anyone and gender played no role in this whatsoever) account, it was found that - oops, the post that got attacked was totally innocuous, BUT they ALSO did do some other stuff that was very much a bannable offense.

The actions and statement I would make in that situation are probably along the lines of:

"Thank you for reaching out with your concerns. We reviewed the case, and unfortunately, it's a fairly complicated one.

We've verified her [because I would, you know, fucking check what pronouns everyone uses] claims of harassment, and have taken action against the parties involved, including penalizing the blogs that were involved in the false reporting campaign and restoring the content that was taken down erroneously.

Unfortunately, upon review of the account, we did find multiple abusive messages to and about other users that were in violation of our terms of service. Because of this, we cannot in good conscience restore the account. The user has been made aware of the specifics of these violations, and if she would like to sign up again without engaging in this behavior, she is free to do so.

We are aware that this case was a very frustrating and difficult one for many people, and we apologize for the stress it has caused our community. We are constantly working to solve the open problem of content moderation systems being abused in the way we have witnessed here, and appreciate your feedback when something goes wrong, not least of all because we recognize the severity and the discriminatory nature of targeted harassment campaigns such as the ones faced by this user. If you see something similar happening, please don't be afraid to reach out, nor to use our reporting system for its proper purpose.

Thank you for using [WEBSITE]."

I would NOT-

Insist on keeping the fully SFW photos down because well the user DID have SOMETHING to get banned over so that's BASICALLY the same thing

Change my justification from "well she posted NSFW" - "I mean she THREATENED me LOOK!" [Looney Toons imagine spot] - "I mean she threatened and harassed me AND other users, really, I swear I have it right this time!"

Threaten to call the fucking FBI on someone over cartoon violence imagine spots posted for justified frustration with my website's moderation speed

Misgender/degender the user in question over multiple iterations until "well I'm just not SURE what that user goes by despite everyone and their grandma telling me in no uncertain terms 🥺" runs out of plausible deniability

DM the user's friends to insist that they just don't know the full story and really she was an awful person you gotta believe me

Go completely scorched earth on the user, past, present, and future

Continue to go on a days-long tirade about how no one UNDERSTANDS and no one has the full picture and refuse to provide even the slightest additional detail, expecting that if I just keep talking I'll find a way to please everyone

Admit that I believed there was no war in Ba Sing Se problem with arbitrary to bigoted harassment and the moderation system being too slow and overburdened to mitigate it at best and used to assist with it at worst until I was personally inconvenienced by the matter, despite the entirety of my marginalized userbase saying there was a problem since before I even took over the site and my predecessors having been under a legally binding agreement to fix it to the best of their ability which I then inherited

Choose THAT moment to say that yes there was at one point a rogue mod who got fired (partially because I or someone else representing the site would probably have made a statement about that AT THE TIME)

Threaten to delete the entire site over it

FOLLOW THE USER TO OTHER WEBSITES TO CONTINUE HARASSING HER

Otherwise shave years off my lawyers' lives

And okay. Sure. I'm no professional. In fact, someone who is a professional could probably draft a better version of that statement. If I were a professional, maybe I, too, would struggle to get it even this close to right under the stresses of trying to manage a website with more than maybe 200 users-

But that's WHY I don't manage a site at this scale. Because I know that I'm personally not cut out for that. Which is a level of self-awareness that more people in the online communications platform business sorely fucking need.

[owls-spice-cabinet]

Daybreak

Posting this was so weird bc I didn't want to post it on Ao3 but there was already Part 1 on Ao3 so HERE WE ARE i guess idk it's out there floating in the void somewhere without my name on it bc I couldn't figure out how to post anonymously on Ao3 and it's too late to reclaim my orphan now :) but here's the Ao3 link

ANYWAY. This is a continuation of a previous fic of mine called Dawning. Ao3 link there for everyone. @worldseer @cod-dump @midnight193 anyone not 18 years of age, get the fuck out for legal reasons thanks byyyyee

Words: ~7000 Content: blow jobs, cum swallowing, outrageous flirting, idk it's not that spicy Ship: implied eventual nikpricegraves; it's mostly just nik/graves and price/graves

Phillip had been in London a few times now, mostly either stopping over between flights or meeting up with a new client from somewhere even farther away. He had a few places he liked to frequent when he had some time to himself, although that wasn’t common. Typically, he’d follow his Shadows around like their namesake to various restaurants and bars—sorry pubs. Right now, however, he’d let the more outgoing of them go off while he and the others stayed at their hotel. It was a new place, not one he’d stayed in before with or without his troops, but he’d also never brought this number of troops through London before. When he’d asked Laswell for recommendations, he’d taken her seriously.

For the price, the place was surprisingly accommodating, which probably put it towards the top of Laswell’s list in the first place. It was far from the city center, leaving plenty of buffer room between his forces and the rest of the public. He wasn’t paranoid, he was experienced, and experience told him cordoning off a whole floor of one hotel with armed guards—armed American soldiers—might have raised too many questions surrounded by an entire city of international travelers. Granted, that meant the rooms were a little smaller than some others he'd stayed in, but the management clearly had some experience in putting up soldiers for a few nights.

It did have a nice bar, too. It was backed up against the hotel’s in-house restaurant, so they could share supplies without having the bar as the main focal point to the foot traffic outside. There were numerous tables throughout the space, and a collection of booths set up against the back wall and one of the sides. A large rectangular window ran the length of the wall opposite the bar, and there were two doors out of the room: one exited to the street behind the hotel, and the other went to the rest of the building and the rooms upstairs.

Phillip sat in a booth against the side wall, enjoying the chance to quietly wind down after a more informative mission than he’d counted on. It had been slightly awkward at times, after he’d worked up to returning Nik’s advances where other people might notice it. He hadn’t been making a show of it, just… hadn’t been hiding. It hadn’t been awkward doing it—actually that had been so stupidly easy, it had felt like breathing. Answering very carefully worded questions from his officers had been the awkward part, mostly for them. Especially for Jackson, who’d followed him out of the Marines and had stayed at his right hand for almost a decade now.

Fortunately, no one had been an ass about it. Granted, that was probably a perk of being your own boss. If anyone was dumb enough to be an ass where he could prove it, he could fire them. But honestly, aside from the odd conversations and the usual frustrations that came with dealing with Russians, the mission had wrapped up neatly. Not entirely successful, but certainly far from failure.

Phillip got up and walked over to the bar. One of the bartenders, a woman with dark red hair and glasses whose nametag read Shelly, took notice and put a smile on as he came within conversational distance.

“Is everything alright, sir?” she asked.

“Just fine, thank you,” he answered politely. He set his half-finished whiskey on the rocks down on a coaster. “If I ask you to keep an eye on that while I go use the restroom, would you do that?” He figured it wasn’t much to ask, considering there were all of twenty people in the room, and all but three were his Shadows—his quieter Shadows.

Sue him, he was a little paranoid. He was military, he’d just pissed off some Russians, and he wasn’t at his home base. He was allowed.

Shelly smiled and nodded. “Absolutely, sir. I’ll put it over here for you,” she said, picking it up and setting it behind the bar near her station. “Just ask when you’re back.”

“Much obliged,” he said, taking note of where it had ended up. Then he left.

-scene break-

When he returned, he heard the hum of chatter in the room was about the same as he’d left it. Nothing much had changed. It was still only barely 21:45, so no one was in a hurry to get to bed—not even his Shadows, who’d had a long flight today. Phillip eyed his Shadows, scattered at various booths and tables throughout the room. They seemed to be exactly as he’d left them as well, gathered in their groups of three to five and talking quietly amongst themselves.

The doorway that led down to the restrooms was on the far end of the room from the bar. He’d emerged behind most of the other people in the room, giving him plenty of time to survey the room. He looked around to where he’d been sitting earlier, and stopped.

Now that was fascinating.

Laswell had recommended this hotel, he recalled. She knew it had the capabilities to keep him and his soldiers safe and happy for the time they had to be here. Except, Kate Laswell was not an officer of any military force. She had no troops to command, and rarely traveled in groups who needed such accommodations. Why might she have known about this little place, then?

Phillip smiled to himself, recognizing the back of Nikolai’s head and shoulders at one of the tables near the rows of booths against the back wall. Looking around, he saw John Price standing at the bar, making small talk with the other bartender whose name Phillip didn’t know. He almost did a double-take, then stared, trying to figure out what about John’s person had suddenly made it almost impossible to look away from him.

He figured it out as he walked silently up behind Nik’s chair. Nik, John, and Sergeant Garrick had all had to leave before the mission in Urzikstan had officially resolved, so he hadn’t been there in person for Phillip to share all the amusement he found in putting a few puzzle pieces together about himself. For example, he’d figured out, after those three had left, why he had felt so differently towards Nik when John had clearly been flirting with him over roughly the same amount of time, and Phillip had been just as clueless.

The answer was surprisingly simple. Surprising to him, at least. Again, he had been clueless.

See, Nik had started out as something resembling a friend. If John hadn’t been in the picture, Nik was someone Phillip would have asked out on a date, held hands with, watch a movie with—all those horribly romantic things he’d always felt weird about before.

John? Not quite the same thing.

He’d finally figured out he wanted John to absolutely ruin him, even though he wasn’t entirely sure what that would entail.

And while the dark blue collared shirt and grey jeans John wore now were nothing particularly special on their own, it was the first time Phillip had seen him out of field uniforms and a tac vest. The outfit was nothing if not encouraging.

When he reached Nik’s chair, he put one hand on the back of it, careful not to touch Nik more than brushing his shirt with the back of his knuckles. He knew sneaking up on people with combat training was a gamble already.

“John oughta be more careful,” he said in a low voice, “leaving such a handsome man like you unattended in a bar at night.”

Nik had tensed initially upon realizing someone had snuck up on him. But he had long since recognized Phillip’s voice. He hummed, giving no verbal answer, his shoulders relaxing.

Phillip leaned over, placing his other hand on the tabletop so he was hovering beside Nik’s head. “But then again, with an ass like that, maybe he doesn’t need to be careful,” he said, tilting his head slightly in John’s direction with a small smile.

Nik’s own smile turned a bit devious as he followed the indicated line of sight to John’s ridiculously attractive backside. Then he looked back to Phillip. “Are you suggesting I only stay with him for his looks?”

Phillip turned his head to meet his gaze. “I wouldn’t dream of such an insinuation, Nikolai. I have it on very good authority that you have excellent taste in men.”

That made him laugh softly, his dark eyes crinkling. Phillip had missed the heady, fluttery feeling he got seeing it. The whiskey he’d been drinking earlier couldn’t compare. Nik lifted a hand to place under the far side of Phillip’s jaw, turning his head just a bit more until he could lean in to kiss him.

Phillip gave a silent sigh, leaning into him in return. Yeah, he had missed this too. When Nik released him, he checked the bar and found John hadn’t moved.

“How long are you here?” Nik asked him.

“Just tonight and tomorrow night,” he answered, a little distantly. He was thinking.

“Don’t stare too hard, you’ll burn a hole in those very hard-working jeans,” Nik said with a smile.

Phillip ducked his head and smiled. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and glanced back up at the bar before looking at Nik again. “He was flirting with me half the mission.”

“He was, very badly. It was funny when you did it back, though,” Nik said, reaching up to trace the underside of Phillip’s jaw with a fingertip.

He nodded his agreement. He’d only managed it once or twice before John and the rest had left, but the effect had been priceless. The look of shock all over his face right before he’d muttered something like “fuck off” and stalked away had entertained Phillip for days the first time.

“I don’t want to interrupt your evening, but I also feel like you’ll understand perfectly if I tell you this,” he said, keeping his voice low at Nik’s ear.

Nik’s hand remained tucked under his jaw. “I am listening, Лучик,” he murmured.

Phillip was glad the light in the room was low enough to help disguise whatever blush was creeping up the back of his neck. Just because he’d admitted it to himself didn’t mean he knew how to admit it to other people. He’d meant it when he’d said Nik would understand—he was counting on it, actually. “I have been wanting that man to fuck me into oblivion for weeks.”

The smile on Nik’s face widened, gaining a sharp edge. His dark eyes glittered when they turned to him. “I don’t think I would mind such an interruption at all,” he said in that low tone that made Phillip’s knees wobble a bit. “I have it on good authority that he is very good at such things.”

Phillip could practically feel the blood in his body draining south—a fairly novel sensation, he might point out. He hadn’t realized what proper sexual arousal felt like outside of physical stimulation until about a month ago, and that had been almost as groundbreaking as realizing he hadn’t actually been romantically invested in any of his previous relationships.

Nik wasn’t finished speaking, however. “I do have two conditions,” he said. “One, you are doing the work of seducing him, because I want to see that. Two, I will allow the interruption tonight, if I am allowed to have you to myself tomorrow night?” He accentuated the last phrase by taking hold of Phillip’s jaw, turning his face to him, and gently running his thumb across his bottom lip.

This man would be the death of him, Phillip was sure. He grinned, barely resisting the urge to lick his bottom lip. “You got yourself a deal, handsome,” he said. He lifted his hand from the back of Nik’s chair, setting it on his shoulders instead. Before he stood up, Nik pulled him in for a peck on the lips. He squeezed his shoulder in return as he straightened up from where he’d been leaning on the table.

Nik and John must have come here before, he was starting to suspect. John had been standing at the bar, chatting with the other bartender for a while now. Even the most complicated cocktails on the menu here didn’t take that long to make, so there must be some history there. Plus, Phillip remembered he still had to retrieve his own drink from Shelly. He did that first, walking up to her with a polite smile.

“I’ve kept it safe for you sir,” she said, setting it in front of him.

“Thank you very much,” he said, picking the glass up and taking a drink from it. Then he turned to face down the bar towards John. “So why don’t you ever wear jeans in the field, John?”

John stared at him, blue eyes dark and impassive. The bartender he’d been talking to took note and set about actually making drinks. John was silent for a long pause, like he was waiting or looking for something. “Thought those lot might be military,” he said gruffly, gesturing to the nearest table of Shadows.

They weren’t in uniform exactly, but it wasn’t far from it. A few of them wore the company-issued sweaters or jackets. Hell, Phillip himself was wearing a black collared shirt with the Shadow Co. insignia stitched small over the left breast. He was allowed to wear his own merch, he’d founded the damn thing.

“Yeah, we’re stopping over for a couple nights on our way back across the pond,” Phillip explained, stepping closer. “Laswell recommended this place, actually. Guess I know why now, seeing as you’re both lookin’ pretty cozy around here,” he went on, tipping his head towards Nik watching from his table.

John grunted, accepting a pint from the man behind the bar. “Yeah, funny thing,” he muttered, taking a sip, then licking foam from his mustache.

“Gonna answer my question?” Phillip prompted, leaning an elbow on the bar. “Saw plenty of the guys wearin’ jeans in Mexico. Never seen ‘em on you ‘til now.”

It was clear John didn’t quite grasp what he was doing here yet, but was still valiantly trying to figure it out. “We have dress codes for a reason,” he answered, holding his gaze. “They work for job.”

Phillip nodded like he’d actually cared about the reason why. He hadn’t, not truly. “Well, I guess I’m grateful you follow dress codes, then,” he said, raising his glass a little.

He got another outwardly impassive look in response, only briefly interrupted by the bartender placing a second drink near him, presumably for Nik since Phillip had seen vodka go into the mix. “Do I want to know why?” John asked, sounding the slightest bit genuine.

With a slow grin, he leaned in. “’Cause I would’ve been dead six different ways if you’d had these on out there,” he said, helpfully casting his gaze down John’s person to make his point. “’Specially considering you like to lead up front—” He sucked air through his teeth, quirking his eyebrows a hair higher. “Distracting.”

John caught on, finally, rolling his eyes and turning back to his pint. “Fuckin’ Christ,” he muttered, taking another, bigger, drink from it.

“Oh, you can dish it out, but you’re not taking it?” Phillip asked.

“I was not—!” He cut himself off sharply when he caught the smirk on Phillip’s face.

He raised an eyebrow at him. “You weren’t what?” he asked. “When you were watching me check over my weapons and you made me do it twice because you wanted to see how I handled the equipment, and then said I had good handling skills for an American, you weren’t doing what, exactly?” He was being nice enough to keep his voice down, but it did mean he had to get a little closer than a usual conversation.

He would admit, he did enjoy the stern glare he was getting out of this. After a few confusing weeks at the mercy of Nik’s very purposeful flirting and John’s only sometimes purposeful flirting, it was nice to be on the same page for this exchange.

“None of your boys is here, no need to worry about a reputation,” he added quietly. “I’m certainly not.” He wasn’t worried about his reputation, no, but there were plenty of aspects of this conversation he was largely bluffing through. But what else was new for him?

John rolled his eyes minutely. “You’re fuckin’ insufferable since you figured yourself out.”

“I was insufferable before, too. But even then, I couldn’t manage to get under your skin the way I can now, so what does that tell you?”

“Fuck all.”

Phillip smiled again. “Does it bother you that you’re no longer automatically controlling the conversation now that I know what you’re doing?” In his periphery, he saw John’s hand flex and tighten around his pint glass. “I wouldn’t be too concerned. I mean, you’ve still got plenty of experience in other areas that I don’t, so I’d probably let you push me around a bit if you wanted.” Never mind the fact that, like Nik, John’s arms were incredible, and he probably wouldn’t have minded in the first place if either of them wanted to push him around at all.

Huh. Go figure.

For the first time since Phillip had walked over here, John’s eyes weren’t carefully unreadable. Something about his expression had darkened almost imperceptibly, and Phillip couldn’t decide how he felt about the shudder that it sent down his spine.

This time John leaned in a little. “Don’t make an offer you’re not willing to follow up,” he said.

“When have I ever backed out of a good deal, John?” he replied, keeping an easy smile on his face despite his heartrate ticking up just from the tone of John’s voice.

“A deal?”

“I get what I want, you get what you want. Mutually beneficial arrangement.”

A small smile appeared on John’s face as he moved his pint glass a little farther from the edge of the bar. He leaned an elbow on the wooden surface, mirroring Phillip’s position. “You know what you want, just like that?” he asked, his tone finally picking up some of the playful tone Phillip had been using.

Phillip answered truthfully, because it didn’t seem like a good idea to bluff this one. “I’m open to negotiations, if you’ve got ideas all of a sudden.”

It looked like John hadn’t been expecting that answer. That was fair, since Phillip wasn’t particularly known for his abounding sense of humility without ulterior motive. John looked at him silently for a second, then turned back to his pint on the bar. “Damn you,” he muttered as he took another drink.

This was fun. Phillip grinned again, turning his back to the bar and taking up his own drink at last. It was almost gone by now, and he had no desire to stick around to order another one. He found Nik still sitting at his table, watching them both from across the room. He caught Phillip’s grin and smiled.

“He put you up to this?” John asked. When Phillip glanced at him, he added, “Nik, I mean.”

Ah, right. “Nope. Not his idea, just his blessing.” He drank the last of his whiskey and set his glass down on the bar. “Tell you what,” he said, pulling his hotel keycards out of his back pocket (because they always gave you two even when you were clearly one person). He slid one out of the little paper envelope with the room number scrawled on it, and put it back into his pocket. “I will leave you with options,” he said quietly, reaching over to slide the extra keycard with its little envelope into the breast pocket of John’s shirt.

John let him do it, following his every move carefully, but remaining still.

Then he walked away, down the bar to Shelly to pay for his drink before he left. It took great effort not to glance sideways at John still standing at the other end of the bar. He almost broke when he had to look back up at Shelly with a polite smile and wish her a nice evening, but he held his ground. He put his wallet back in his pocket and left the bar.

-scene break-

Just over ten minutes after Phillip had arrived back in his hotel room, he heard the small beep and click of someone using a keycard to open his door. His initial reaction was one of relief, because the past ten minutes or so had been some of the most uncomfortable in his life for many reasons—not least of which was he couldn’t recall a time in recent memory he’d literally been so horny he couldn’t think straight.

No, the comedy of that phrase was not lost on him.

He closed his laptop, pushing his chair away from the desk where he’d been using his emails as a distraction. John closed the door behind him and came forward to stand in the doorway where the main room met the little entryway. He folded his arms and leaned against one wall, crossing one leg over the other as he did. Phillip didn’t try to disguise the fact that he was staring.

“You still open to negotiations?” he asked.

Phillip leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out and setting one stocking foot over the other. “Yep. Get any inspiration on your way up here?”

He supposed in any other situation, the look in John’s eyes would have set him on edge the same way a raid siren might. It was a dark, intelligent, dare he say hungry expression, and all it did now was make a low heat ignite in his gut and his dick twitch in his pants. John pushed off the wall, unfolding his arms as he walked over to Phillip’s chair. He set the keycard down on the desk, then grabbed an arm of the chair to turn it so they were facing each other.

“I’m going to ask you some questions and I would like honest answers to them,” he said, now leaning over him with a hand on each of the chair’s arms. “Think you can manage that, Phillip?”

Phillip’s mouth went unexpectedly dry. He nodded, running his tongue over his bottom lip. “Doesn’t sound too difficult, no.”

John gave a small smile, but his eyes still held that focused, almost predatory expression. “Good. Am I allowed to kiss you?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t kiss him immediately, which might have fried something in the back of Phillip’s brain out of sheer anticipation. Unfair. “Good,” he went on instead. “Downstairs, you’d said I could push you around a bit. Did you mean that literally? Am I allowed to pull you around a bit?”

Fuck, of course he’d remembered that. It took a considerable amount of willpower not to curl in on himself under John’s gaze, but he didn’t. He gave another nod while his tongue caught up with his brain. “Yeah, I meant that literally,” he breathed, feeling like a bug pinned to a board. Only, he’d crawled onto the board himself and stayed put while the pin came down.

John nodded once. “You understand that if I say or do something you don’t like, you will say something, and vice versa, yes?”

Phillip gave him a flat stare. “John, I’ve had sex before. I know how consent works.”

“Fine then,” he said. He grabbed both of Phillip’s wrists, one in each hand, and hauled him bodily upright out of the chair.

Phillip made note of two things. One, the show of strength had been undeniably hot and had flooded his brain with another wave of arousal that quickly drained right to his dick. Two, John was still in his shoes whereas Phillip stood in socks, which made their height difference that much more noticeable. All told, he felt almost… small. Before he could think further into how he felt about that, John’s mouth had found his, and thinking was no longer important.

Admittedly, he’d thought about what it would feel like to kiss John. He’d never kissed anyone with facial hair, after all, because Nik preferred a clean face, and it had obviously never come up in his previous relationships. Turned out, Phillip didn’t really care. Yes, he could feel it tickling his face, and yes, it required a bit of maneuvering sometimes, but he didn’t care. Possibly he didn’t care because he’d been dying to get his hands on this man for weeks; possibly because he was harder than he’d been in recent memory and the prospect of relief was overshadowing a lot of other things at the moment; and possibly because John had just shoved him up onto the desk he’d been sitting at, and keeping his balance took the rest of his brain power.

“Fucking shit,” he hissed, once again aware of how achingly uncomfortable his jeans were becoming. He’d never been pushed around like this—he’d been the one doing any manhandling, usually because the lady had asked very nicely. But fuck, he could understand the appeal.

“Good?” John asked. He’d long since let go of Phillip’s wrists, now gripping his hips instead.

Phillip didn’t bother answering such a stupid question. He hooked his left arm around his neck and grabbed his collar with the right hand, pulling him back in to keep kissing him. John lurched forward with the usual grace of someone caught off guard, inadvertently pressing one of his thighs (his large, muscled, and horrendously attractive thighs) directly into Phillip’s groin.

Phillip moaned into his mouth, his hips involuntarily pressing forward against the pressure. He broke away to breathe, to try to clear his head that felt like it was swimming with want. He barely got a breath in when John’s hands pulled his hips back against his leg, and the rush of pleasure forced half the air from his lungs anyway. He growled, catching a glimpse of the smug smile on John’s face right before he kissed it, perhaps a bit more forcefully than was strictly necessary. Judging by the noise it got from John, though, neither of them cared.

He felt John’s tongue press against the seam of his lips with clear intent at the same time he felt the man’s hands tugging his shirt out of his waistband. He let both happen, groaning softly when John’s warm palms fit snugly around his ribs and his tongue slid into his mouth. Again, it was something Phillip had never understood to be particularly pleasant, let alone attractive, but he was discovering a lot of things made more sense when he was actually attracted to the person in question. John’s leg ground up against him again, drawing a quiet groan from him as he tried desperately to hold onto his composure.

It wasn’t easy. The warmth from John’s hands was making goose bumps erupt in their wake along his sides, across his lower back, and slowly trailing higher. The movement of his leg against the bulge in Phillip’s jeans turned slow and repetitive, pulling small noises from his throat even as he tried to hold them back. He could feel his body heating up as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over him, until he realized the situation was heading towards a conclusion far faster than he’d wanted.

He reached up with the arm still looped around John’s neck, weaving fingers into John’s hair and holding him there when he broke away from the kiss. “Will you cut that out,” he said, breathing hard, “and do something more constructive?”

The smug little smile was back on John’s face. He squeezed Phillip’s ribs and leaned in until their foreheads were pressed together. “You were making such pretty noises for me, though,” he murmured.

Phillip turned his head away, blushing deeply. That only gave John the opportunity to duck his head and start covering his jaw and ear and neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. Without really thinking, Phillip tilted his head back, allowing him more room.

He gave a small gasp when John began sucking a mark below his ear. “Fucking Christ, John,” he whined, dragging his fingernails through the short hairs on the back of John’s head. “Please—shit, John—"

John made a low noise in his throat, detaching from his neck and licking over his handiwork once or twice. “God, if I had the fucking time,” he said into his ear, sliding his hands back down to rest on Phillip’s hips and squeezing, “I would keep you here for hours with just my fingers until you couldn’t remember your own name and just begged me to fuck you properly.”

A shudder ran down Phillip’s spine, making his stomach clench and his hips twitch forward of their own accord. Evidently, he wouldn’t mind that at all. Great. Not currently helpful, however. He closed his eyes as John once again mouthed at the underside of his jaw, struggling to put together a sentence that made sense. “Yeah, okay. But since it sounds—hah, fuck—like you don’t have the time, what—mm—what are we doing now?”

John pulled back to look at him with the same infuriating self-satisfied expression. “Impatient—”

“Yes.”

That made his eyebrows lift slightly. “Fine. Can I suck you off?”

Finally. “Yes, you can absolutely—” Phillip never finished the sentence.

As soon as the first word was out of his mouth, John pulled him off the desk, turned him around, and pushed him onto the foot of the nearest bed. He only managed to stay upright by grabbing onto one of John’s biceps. It didn’t really matter, though, because the second his ass hit the bedspread, John’s mouth found his again, and he felt himself being eased slowly and very deliberately onto his back. John licked into his mouth again, and his hand not currently supporting his weight snaked up and into Phillip’s hair, gently pulling his head back slightly. Fuck, did it feel good, too. If his eyes weren’t already closed, they probably would have crossed.

John pulled away, his hand sliding down along Phillip’s face to his collar, resting on the first button. “Still good?”

Phillip tried to answer, but the words “what” and “yeah” both wanted to come out of his mouth at the same time. It ended up as an unintelligible noise half-way between both words. He blinked, a little confused as to why that hadn’t made sense, and then John burst into poorly restrained but genuine, honest-to-God giggles. Phillip covered his face, a blush searing his ears and cheeks as John buried his face in his chest to laugh.

After a couple seconds, he lifted it to say, “How’re you already fucked dumb when I haven’t even touched you?” He was still smiling fit to burst.

Phillip hit his shoulder. “Oh, shut up!”

“I’m not making fun of you,” John said, leaning down and starting to press kisses across his cheeks and jaw.

Phillip let him, because it felt good. “Yeah, sure.” But it didn’t feel good enough to let it continue indefinitely. He reached up and grabbed John’s chin, forcing eye contact. “Did your mother never teach you not to play with your food?” he asked pointedly. “I thought you asked to suck my dick, and my belt buckle has yet to be undone.” He raised his eyebrows a hair and tilted his head in lieu of asking John if he could see what the problem was.

There were still traces of amusement all over John’s face, but all he did was peck him on the lips before pushing himself up a bit. “Undo your shirt,” he said. He watched as Phillip did so, waiting until he was more than halfway through the buttons before he reached to undo Phillip’s belt, the button and fly following quickly afterwards.

Phillip sighed to himself when at least some of the pressure was taken off his erection, then yelped when John dragged his jeans off with enough force to pull him to the edge of the bed. He pushed himself up on his elbows to ask what the fuck, but the words stopped short of his mouth when John’s hand slid over the tent in his underwear, squeezing him gently. Whatever he’d been about to say melted into a moan as his head lolled back. The sound was loud enough to surprise himself, and he reflexively put a hand to his mouth.

John clicked his tongue, leaning over him again to take his hand from his mouth. His other hand moved slowly, slipping under the waistband of his shorts. “None of that now,” he said in a low voice. “Told you already what pretty sounds you make.” He bent down closer. “I wanna hear ‘em, Phillip. Yes?”

Phillip nodded wordlessly, mostly too preoccupied with the trajectory of John’s other hand to really protest.

“Good man,” John told him. He ran his thumb over his bottom lip before ducking down to press his mouth to Phillip’s neck. He trailed lower, dipping his tongue into the hollow of his throat and then moving to suck another mark just below his collarbone.

Phillip watched him, feeling like someone had lit fire to a trail of gasoline in the wake of John’s mouth on his skin. Beneath the obvious buzz of desire, there was a more subtle feeling building, and it was sort of familiar. John was making him feel wanted, like Nik did any chance he got, it seemed. When John reached his stomach as he kissed his way down his body, he let out a sharp breath at the tingly, giddy feeling that washed over him. John lifted his head to look at him and smiled, which finally made Phillip realize he’d had a small smile stuck on his face for a while now.

He might actually like John. That was interesting.

John finished decorating Phillip’s front with kisses and finally slid Phillip’s underwear off, sinking to his knees as he did, and letting them fall in a pile with his jeans near the bed. The sudden freedom made Phillip groan in the back of his throat. His dick was almost painfully hard, the head a clear shade of red and beading precum already. Phillip watched, still propped up on his elbows, as John made himself comfortable between his legs. The dark, almost hungry expression was back in his eyes, and as much as it made a blush rise to his cheeks and ears to be this exposed to its intensity, he couldn’t find it in himself to look away. John wrapped his right arm under Phillip’s thigh and hoisted his leg over his shoulder, all while still focused on his main goal.

He wrapped his other hand around the base of Phillip’s dick, making him hiss at the contact. John smirked. “Could get used to a view like this if I’m not careful.”

Before Phillip could respond with some remark in return, John flattened his tongue and licked up the shaft from his hand, finally taking the tip into his mouth and running his tongue over the slit.

Phillip’s shirt slipped off one of his shoulders and he didn’t even notice. “Holy shit,” he breathed, his voice sounding higher than it usually did.

He watched John take more of him into his mouth, then slowly pull back, pressing his tongue against the underside of the shaft and squeezing his hand lightly. Phillip’s leg twitched, trying to close on his head, but the arm John had wrapped around it held it in place firmly. He let out a shaky breath, like he’d just remembered to breathe in that moment, which was fairly accurate. He watched, utterly fixated, as John’s movements got longer, taking in more of him, and occasionally felt his dick twitch against the roof of his mouth or against his tongue. God, it felt fucking incredible. John’s mouth was hot and smooth sliding over him, bobbing up and down, steadily picking up a little speed as he swallowed him inch by inch and his hand covered less and less of him.

Phillip’s hips gave an aborted thrust without him meaning to as a rush of arousal shot through him at the sight. John made a noise that sounded more surprised than anything else, and he didn’t take his mouth of Phillip’s dick. Still— “Fuck, sorry—” Phillip started to say, and never finished.

John looked up at him sharply, then gave a harsh suck as he drew back, effectively negating any speaking ability Phillip might have had in the moment.

His head fell back with a loud moan he didn’t have the wherewithal to even try to cover up. “Jesus Christ,” he wheezed, his heart pounding in his ears. “Point taken, holy fuck.” He let his head hang back with his eyes closed as his mind went somewhat dizzy with pleasure.

John didn’t let up, however. If anything, he got more insistent now that he knew how to get a reaction out of him. This wasn’t the first blow job he’d ever had, but it was certainly the best by leaps and bounds. Granted, that made sense, given the whole “Not Figuring Out His Sexuality Until a Month Ago” thing. Phillip’s brain was so overwhelmed, he had little idea of the specifics outside of it being John’s mouth around his dick, and it feeling fucking wonderful. Too wonderful—he could already feel his climax threatening on the edge of his senses. Although… that was sort of the whole point here, wasn’t it?

It felt like his head weighed a hundred pounds trying to pull it back to its usual position, but he finally did focus back on John’s slightly tousled brown hair. He made a low noise just taking in the sight again, struggling to keep coherency in his thoughts as he watched. “Fuck me,” he breathed, his hips once again trying to buck up deeper into John’s beautiful, talented mouth. It drew a groan from John, sending vibrations up the length of Phillip’s dick still in his mouth. One of his hands reached out in a flash, grabbing onto John’s hair. “Holy—God fucking—John!”

John’s eyes flicked up, meeting his gaze as he drew back, his cheeks hollowed as he sucked and his lips shining with spit.

Phillip loosened his hold on his hair, taking a breath shaky with the effort of not coming just yet despite John’s concerted efforts. “’M not gonna last—shit,” he started to say, but was derailed yet again by watching his dick disappear into John’s mouth. He watched, his hand never moving from John’s hair, as John’s nose came to rest in the light brown hairs surrounding the base of his dick.

He felt his dick jump in John’s throat—in his throat, holy fucking shit, first of all. It drew another low groan from him, sending more vibrations through Phillip’s body and pushing him closer and closer towards the edge. Phillip watched John’s blue eyes flutter closed briefly in utter satisfaction, and felt his fingers dig into the soft skin on his inner thigh. It was as beautiful as it was obscenely hot.

“Jesus fucking Christ, John, I’m close,” he managed, his voice tight. “Where—”

John’s eyes snapped to his, and the arm wrapped around his leg tightened its hold. He swallowed.

Phillip’s mouth dropped open silently, and he only barely resisted rolling his hips up into John’s mouth as his orgasm hit him with all the grace of a baseball bat to the head. He came down John’s throat with a punched-out gasp that faded into a low whine, one hand still buried in his hair, the other gripping the bedspread while his vision swam. He felt John swallow around him again, the muscles in his neck squeezing his cock perfectly while he enjoyed the sheer force and magnitude of pleasure currently making his toes curl and his head feel fuzzy in a way he couldn’t remember experiencing previously.

When the high eventually eased, Phillip finally untangled his fingers from John’s hair and didn’t quite collapse onto the bed, but it was a near thing. His limbs sort of felt like jello, and his brain was only a little better than that. He felt John pull off of him, then felt the edge of the bed dip when he used it to stand up. Fuck, he needed to do things. He wasn’t exactly sure which things, given this was a vastly different scenario than previous encounters. But he’d feel like an asshole later if he didn’t at least try.

He sat up in time to see John disappear into the adjoining bathroom, and he was too tired to overthink why. Instead, he reached down to grab his underwear back from the floor, only to stop when he found them on the bed within reach. That was definitely not where he’d seen John drop them. Okay. He put them on, finally just ditching his shirt, figuring he’d be getting into pajamas not too long after this anyway.

John returned, carrying the two plastic cups the hotel had supplied in the room. One was empty, the other was full, and he offered the latter to Phillip. “Drink, if you want.”

“Thanks,” he said, accepting the cup more for something to do than for a need for water. But he took a couple sips before reaching out to put on the desk near the foot of the bed.

John reached a hand out as he was settling back onto the bed, carefully combing calloused fingers through his hair. Phillip had no doubt it was sticking up at odd angles. John seemed to have fixed his hair, which was only slightly disappointing, because he’d wanted to see what he’d done to it. He leaned into the touch. John’s hand left his hair, skimming the side of his face until it was under his chin, tilting his face up towards John.

“Enjoyed that, did you?” he asked.

Phillip hummed. “Funny thing. Sex is a lot more fun when you’re genuinely attracted to someone.” John rolled his eyes, letting his hand drop to his side. Phillip went on. “Speaking of which, you want a hand there?” It was kind of hard to miss, considering he was roughly eye-level with the noticeable bulge at the front of John’s jeans. “Or is that something Nik gets to deal with later?”

John paused and half-sat on the edge of the desk with a small grimace of discomfort, appearing to consider his options. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table, then at the door back out to the rest of the hotel. Finally, he looked back over at Phillip for a few seconds before he shrugged and stood up, putting his empty cup down on the desk. “Fine. Get up.” Phillip stood up. John grabbed his chin carefully and kissed him firmly. “Let’s see if your handling skills are any good, for an American.”

[warrior-cats-rewritten]

firestar and leafpools father daughter relationship isnt talked about nearly enough on that note

I think about it so often! They make so many remarks about legacy but refuse to hold onto the FAMILY that a legacy should entail! Bad writers! Smack smack!

Leafpool and Firestar - Familial Relationship

In WCR, they have a much more fleshed out relationship.

First thing Fire notices about his newly born daughter when he and Sandstorm (and Smudge and Scourge) get back to Thunderclan is that she looks a hell of a lot like his sister, Princess! Firestar almost came up with a name in inspiration of her, but decided to stick with Leafstar, as while he could not inform his cats of Skyclan, he could at least hope that some of Leafstar's nobility and grace would invoke into his daughter.

Well, he got the noble part right, at first. Little Leafkit was clumsy and a bit uncoordinated. She would rather learn about herbs than practicing pouncing and bounding through the forest like Squirrelkit could.

Firestar has learned from his past attitude and encouraged his daughter to follow her heart. Though... Please talk to me or your mom or aunty Cinderpelt before you taste-test plants you find. Please.

Leafkit grew into Leafpaw, and finally developed that grace! Firestar was so proud of her, to the point of embarrassing her by accident. Yowling across camp "BE SAFE! BE GOOD! I LOVE YOU LEAFPAW!" When she would go for Medicine Cat meetings. She got over it quickly when she heard Cinderpelt speak about her own father, Cricketfang, and how she missed him.

"I LOVE YOU TOO DAD!"

Things begin to get... Difficult, once the destruction of White Hart Woods begins. In WCR, Leafpaw is the cat who gets the message to go on the Road Trip, and Squirrelpaw, ever at her side, joins too. (Along with Shrewpaw) The 2 sisters leave together under the cover of night alongside Crowpaw and Cranberrypaw of Windclan, Tawnypelt and Smokepaw of Shadowclan, and Feathertail and Stormfur of Riverclan.

It is, hands down, one of the worst times in Firestar's life. The forest is being destroyed and BOTH his kids are missing. All he can think is that the Clans are going to go through what Old Skyclan went through, and his daughters are missing.

When they came back, he was terrified and filled with sorrow. The destruction was in full-swing, and his children had come back speaking about a lake, leaving, going through a mountain... He believed them, but it was so strange, following his daughters into territory unknown... They were so grown-up.

While Squirrelpaw was reckless and a troublemaker, Leafpaw was a the good one, the quieter one, the one you didn't need to worry too much about. He didn't entirely like how Brambleclaw acted towards his daughter, but he never suspected that Leafpaw and Crowpaw's funny little friendship was anything more than that.

When she left again, with Crowfeather, he was... Sad. But not upset with her. The kind of sad you feel when you know your child has grown up enough to not need you the way they used to. It seemed like such a short while ago Leafkit was calling put for her daddy to sleep in the nursery with them tonight because the gentle rain outside was too scary...

But also sad because she'd never told him. He would have accepted it in a heartbeat, moreso than Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight.

He was overjoyed when she came back, but confused when Crowfeather was not with her. During Leafpool's Wish, he tries to give her some comfort. It's okay, honey, sometimes things don't work out.

She's so distracted with her pregnancy that she just nods along. She feels like she doesn't want to burden her father with anything more, what with Thunderclan still recovering from The Boar Attack, including Cinderpelt's death.

She never told him the truth about The Three. But Firestar wasn't stupid. The shape of Jaykit's ears and the stripes on his pelt, Lionkit's eye colour, and Hollykit's voice... He knew they were hers, and putting the 2 puzzle pieces together for their father was not hard. He's come a long way as an orange cat.

Like Shrewfeather though, he assumed it was out of a kindness. Maybe Squirrelflight couldn't have kits of her own, and sweet Leafpool had acted as a surrogate with Crowfeather to provide kits for them. He felt that he shouldn't pry.

Leafpool felt so guilty at not telling her mother and father about things, especially with how close they were to The Three. When the secret came out, she quietly walked into Firestar and Sandstorm's den afterwards and cried to them. They understood and weren't mad in the slightest.

When the secret came out, Firestar was hesitant to punish Leafpool, she'd been through enough... He didn't want to punish his own daughter but when whispers of blood clotting were beginning to start, he had to do something. He wasn't going Onestar's route, when Onestar denamed him into Crowpaw.

He still demotes her, but it's more a formality. She broke a vow about her Starclan connection but let's not prevent cats from getting medical treatment if they need it, okay? He has her go through some Hunter training with her aunt, Lightflower (Princess) but talks in Thunderclan have begun regarding an alternate permanent position for cats that aren't Medicine cats but cannot hunt. In the mean time, she takes up odd jobs all around Thunderclan and hangs around her parents.

Firestar dies protecting Leafpool and Squirrelflight, whom Tigerstar calls "abominations" and attacks during The Great Battle. Firestar dies, but the sisters escape, botb in shock and grief, only getting worse when Tjgerstar drags Firestar's seemingly lifeless body out into a clearing to show off. Leafpool will never forget her father's flaming, holy spirit rising out of his own limp body when Tigerstar least expects it, destroying him, before finally taking his rightful place in Starclan.

And the trial? Ooh, that'll be a doozy. I am going to leave this bit vague, but let's just say there's a reason Firestar still has his title of "Leader of Lionclan".

Moon Flight had better watch herself.

[runabout-river]

Thoughts on JJK chapter 255 (spoilers)

Fun chapter with many interesting parts.

People have wondered if Larue would also appear mostly because he had been working with Yuki at some point. That they're called Team Geto is really funny.

We get a flashback of the timeskip with Yuta and Larue recruiting Miguel to their cause. He isn't convinced at first until Larue changes his mind. Nanako and Mimiko we know were killed by Sukuna but their conversation makes it seem like the other two who had that encounter with Kusakabe and Panda also died.

Miguel says that Gojo should've come himself to get him on board. This makes it the first time that Gojo's absence from the timeskip flashbacks is acknowledged in a meta fashion. This is significant imo because this throws the doors wide open to Gojo having done sth else than train with his students for the last month.

That could be some kind of preparation or getting more allies to their side. It could even be specialized training for Nobara or something else entirely but it will come back at some point.

Sukuna: 😩

Recap to remind us that Sukuna is injured right now and that he can't use RCT. This makes it seem like the Geto Duo was somewhere else than the monitor room where the other are/were.

I also wanted to point out that Larue is the most stereotypically coded gay character in JJK. He's the kind of character that is overly masculine physically but has some over-the-top feminine characteristics like his eyes, lips and the pink hearts over his tits.

Can't wait to see Miguel breakdancing his way out of cleave animated.

Sukuna has more interest in Miguel's CT than Larue's, showing us that he still to this moment loves analyzing and optimizing Jujutsu

We get a flashback that has Gojo in it BUT that flashback is pre-Shibuya and happens after the end of the movie (a scene that wasn't in the original manga).

And Gojo was racist? Interestingly, he applied real world physical built of the average Japanese person to that of an unspecified African country saying that a physical buff for Miguel's people works better because they're physically stronger (apparently but who really knows). Except of course that thinking falls apart (in multiple ways) when we consider that we're in a battle shonen and all sorcerers are either decently or highly muscular (except the women)

We see that Miguel is, as Gege has once said, strong and he gets a few good blows against Sukuna. Choso also reappears.

We get an explanation on how Sukuna's World Cutting Slash works. He needs to use his domain seal to activate it and I'm curious what exactly that means in regards to what domain seals even are.

Against Gojo, Sukuna had lost his left hand in the Hollow Purple attack, so he shouldn't have been able to perform the WCS but he made a vow instead that stipulated that for all future uses of that cut he needs to use his palm to specify the trajectory of it.

He could've activated his transformation then instead of making the vow but he probably saw it as more important that Gojo thought that he had been defeated.

Maki came back like most people in my poll voted for. Now I'm... anxious on how Gege will write her from then on. From her chapter we got the sense that she will have a bigger role in confronting one specific aspect of Sukuna but now we're in a group battle again.

Larue got a BF though so the group will shrink really fast which should get Maki back into the spotlight.

She cuts off Sukuna's left hand making it seemingly impossible for him to use his super cut except we the audience know of course that that won't hinder him too much.

Yuji, you're so full hope that it was inevitable that it would be crushed immediately. Sukuna uses a second BF which will restore his CE output meaning he'll heal his limbs just like Gojo did at that point in their fight.

He still has his fire arrow and the corresponding technique of it in his Arsenal as well, so like Uraume said, he still hasn't gotten all out on them

I feel like the fight is going to get into its third phase in the upcoming chapters. Prepare for another 3-5 chapter mini-arc (probably the Uraume/Hakari fight) to interrupt it after something shocking will happen.

[tooti-fruiti]

(Villainous) Blackhat rant

Blackhat is as old as time and is immortal. He's also retired and this is why he doesn't actually fight anyone and has Flug, Demencia, and 505 take care of everything. (I also believe that the reason he started the organization to begin with is because he got bored and wanted something new to do).

I believe that if it were absolutely necessary (which it probably never will be necessary due to how powerful and strong blackhat is) he would fight someone. He's destroyed countless heroes and has described it as "stepping on ants" and has said that none of them were a challenge to him.

Despite being incapable of love (and hating it actually) I feel like Blackhat has had lovers in the past and will have many more in the future.

Here me out.

I feel like he would use his charm to seduce people into doing what he wants for his own desires and interests, stringing them along to do his bidding all while never having any actual feelings. It's been shown that Blackhat is charming, seductive, and somewhat flirtatious. This doesn't mean that Blackhat feels love however, it's probably out of boredorm.

I feel like this is how Demencia became involved in the organization. What I think happened is Blackhat seduced her at one point and left her soon after. But Demencia being the crazy bitch she is, followed after Blackhat and became a villain just for him. Of course, I think she genuinely enjoys being a villain due to her crazy ass nature but I still think this is how it started. And after she was hired into the organization, she obsesses over Blackhat and annoys him to pieces at times. However, he feeds her obsession at times. Example Number One, at the end of one of the orientation videos, Demencia sets up an entire scheme to kill a hero to impress Blackhat. She returns with the hero's cape and shows it to Blackhat, she then asks if she did a good job. Blackhat then grabs her chin and gets close to her face, making her think that he'll kiss her. But he doesn't do that, instead he just says no and lets go of her. Example Number 2, as seen in the episode with the haunted house, he leans close to her and towers over her as he flicks his tongue out at her calling her dear as well, making her blush horribly. (I would too not going to lie) Those two examples are of Blackhat fueling her obsession. Like adding water to a gas fire. And there's no way Demencia would be this crazy in love and obsessed just by looking at him. He must have done something with her or said something to her to make her act this crazy for him. (Just goes to show how powerful Blackhat's charm is) And on another note, Demencia is so in love with Blackhat that she does anything at his command, such as taking off the wrestler's mask, despite the mask controlling her body.

(See?)

Fun Facts about Blackhat that you may or may not know:

Blackhat has gotten drunk off poison before, so drunk that he started giggling uncontrollably and foaming at the mouth. While he was drunk, he tore up one of his Hat Bot-Sentinals.

Blackhat celebrates Christmas. Probably for the sake of business sales.

Blackhat has conquered the world before. Twice.

Blackhat wears another hat under his hat. Who knows how many hats he wears to hide that bald head.

Blackhat drank brain juice and blood from one of his Hat Bots during the episode with the wrestler's mask.

Blackhat owns a "resort" for henchmen. While it's made to look like a resort, it's made to torture henchmens who are deemed unfit to work anymore, because they're not sent back after they arrive at the resort.

Blackhat also owns a camp for children to grow into villains, and if the children don't come out on top, they die.

This part may or may not be canon, but almost every villain in the cartoon network universe is under Blackhat's rule. (And he has punished and/or killed each villain he reviewed in the orientation videos)

Blackhat knows Villainous is a TV show and uses it as a brainwashing service to dominate the world and turn it all to villainy. (apparently)

Blackhat has blown up planets before.

Blackhat has had other employees before Flug, Demencia, and 505. In one of the orientation videos, it's implied that he threw up on a former employee and it killed them.

Since Villainous is originally in the Spainish dub, Blackhat able and allowed to swear.

We've only ever seen under Blackhat's coat once (during a musical that Demencia preformed when she asked why she loves Blackhat during the Q&A finale orientation video) Blackhat is seen lifting his coat onto his shoulders, but before he does that, we see a wears a long sleeved red polo shirt along with his black tie and grey vest.

Blackhat has torn through his gloves before. But in the new redesign Blackhat got about a month ago when Villainous was getting released on max for the United States, he taps his claws together and you can hear them click together, so he probably doesn't wear gloves anymore.

That's all I can of for right now.

Thanks for reading

I also think Blackhat's hot as fuck-

[sbtorms]

Y'all know how Sunsetter is, like... my Underswap take of sorts? Well, I've recently been working on ideas for an Underfell take of sorts as well, with my own little twists.

Well, it's... kinda an Underfell take. Just a bit different in... a lot of ways.

I made up the name as I'm typing this, because I didn't have a name beforehand.

RED HAZE: Tale Of The Fallen

(or just "Red Haze")

This take has a lot of differences from the usual interpretation, including changing appearances... more than just details and clothing.

(Do note that the main cast would have different names from their Undertale counterparts. But since I can't think of any ideas for now, and also to prevent confusion, I'm just using the original names.)

Unlike in Undertale, there is no barrier keeping monsterkind from going to the surface. Hell, there isn't a mountain at all. Instead, monsterkind resides in a magically imbued forest, with only one way to leave, while entering gets one endlessly lost.

Asgore simply is biding his time, getting the souls of seven humans, to become godlike, and to wipe out humanity. No monster tries to go after Asgore, or even question his methods. Some act this way out of fear of what he could do, others that are for him and for his plan, and then the few that don't care either way.

The "routes" are named somewhat differently from what people usually call Undertale's

Path of Solace - ("Pacifist" Route) Path of Choices - ("Neutral" Routes) Path of Exploit - ("Genocide" Route)

“* You brush aside the agony.”

- this take's replacement for being "filled with determination"

AGONY is a haze that leaks from broken souls, with more of it depending how much negative energy one has when they die. It mentally and physically affects those who breathe it in. Naturally, it opposes the power of Determination, as that power does to it, destroying each other until one remains or there's nothing left. But, with enough focus, perhaps one could use both as one. Such a concept would be a focus of the Path of Exploit, specifically regarding both Undyne and Frisk.

Time for the cast!

Frisk and Chara

Admittedly, I didn't think much besides design-wise for these goobers. It's probably just that Frisk is more tired than usual and Chara was used as a sacrifice to the monsters in a failed attempt at a peace offering by humanity, actually got sick instead of it being planned, and yada-yada Asriel soul absorption and death. ...okay, maybe I thought a little for Chara. But not too much for Frisk.

The shirt patterns here are probably obviously Yumi Nikki inspired, despite the fact that I know nothing about the game itself besides some characters, lol.

The Dreemurrs (Toriel, Asgore, and Asriel)

Similar to canon Underfell, Toriel is what started this entire take concept to begin with. The idea stemmed from "what if the dreemurr family had biblically accurate angel imagery (eyes and wheels) instead of devil imagery (goats, fire, trident, y'know)?" And then I added "black sheep" into that, so that's what I ended up with.

Toriel is very fearful of humans, instead of a caretaker, running away and attacking when cornered. She uses what power she has to keep herself alone, not wanting to be emotionally tied and hurt again. (She's my favorite in the cast :3)

Asgore has been particularly affected by the AGONY of the many fallen children that died by his hand, becoming almost a tyrant, with only some of his original personality fading in and out.

Asriel is... actually not too different from canon Asriel, considering he died before everything really kicked off.

Flowey is a small mass/hivemind of bundled flowers, tied together like a "rat king". Each flower has only small snippets of past memories as Asriel, as well its own "personality", splitting Undertale Flowey’s personality into six pieces. They try to help Frisk get through the area, due to how unsafe it is. Whether they have their own goals remains to be seen.

The Blooks are shadow spirits instead of simple ghosts.

Napstablook is somewhat the same as in Undertale, other than the visual changes. Though, due to the circumstances, they’d have a bit more of an issue with their emotional state, bottling up their feelings, usually until such bursts when they can’t take it anymore.

Mettaton possesses many types of machinery, instead of just his singular body. In a way, this is due to the fact that he cannot decide on a single one.

The Ruins Dummy ghost is instead possessing a box and works as how items travel between boxes throughout the areas.

Maddie (aka "Mad Dummy" or "Mad Mew Mew" in Undertale, Maddie is sorta just a fandom nickname i think) basically acts like canon, but also a Mimic in a way, also possessing a box.

There would also be a secret boss fight against both Mettaton and Maddie, replacing Undertale's "Mad Mew Mew" one, with one where the two are trying to share the same body. The goal is to get the two to get along and work together… or just straight up destroy the body.

The Skelebros are instead lost spirits, seemingly of their original counterparts in some way...

Papyrus's goal is the same as his original, but instead in hopes of finally passing on, instead of joining a "Royal Guard". In reality, he knows he's never gonna pass on, but is in constant denial of such.

Sans, however, seems to have accepted and adapted to his “life”, and just wants to follow after his brother with whatever happens to him. He also likes dark humor, because of course he does.

The "Royal Guard" replacement is instead a cult that Undyne leads (and used to be led by Gerson), with a focus on a so-called prophecy, and using AGONY for what they see as a good thing. While they seem to be against King Asgore, it's more or less that they want him back to how he was before everything happened.

Undyne is a hooded guide throughout Waterfall (or whatever it'd be called in the take). She'd still be a fishlike monster, perhaps siren-like or anglerfish-like... or both. She protects the harmless from a gang of young monsters, led by Monster Kid.

Alphys is still the Royal Scientist, but also some form of background security in a way. She has an abundance of hidden cameras all throughout the Underground. She uses her vision across the areas for many reasons. Blackmail, catching traitors in the act, sometimes just... watching. Some monsters, especially many in the cult, have become evasive enough to miraculously avoid her gaze.

Her appearance is a bit more more based on that one beta design by Tuyoki.