#that tag is for me to find this later if i need

[bluegiragi]

I love all the things I've seen from you, but your recent writing on Ghost and Soap was absolute perfection. You put it into words I couldn't find. And that last tag? The one regarding Simon finding peace in thinking of Johnny in the end? You just articulated something that is potentially, simultaneously, the most angsty and closure giving end to their story ever. The idea that Simon gets to see him again, boisterous and grinning, asking "Miss me Lt?" It's a story idea so good I wish I had the writing ability to bring it to life. Feel free to ramble to us more.

omg……..that’s a concept just asking to be drawn, huh….

god, i actually have so many thoughts about post-mw3 ghost, i think he'd completely shut down emotionally. Not even as a 'punishment' for his teammates but almost out of self-preservation, like I think he's able to recognise what a livewire he is right now and just...shave himself down to the bare necessities. He'd simplify himself down to his functionality, to Ghost, not Lieutenant Riley or Simon ever again, because that's the only reason he's still here - to be a good tool - and once he physically can't keep up anymore...well. Then that's it for him.

He'd likely sink into a variety of vices simply so he can manage to fall asleep without seeing Johnny's face every time he dreams. And I think his relationship with both Gaz and Price deteriorates, and he simply can't bring himself to care as much as he should about it.

As time passes, I think he'd develop a trend of self destructive behaviour that manifests in him going too far too often, whether its in sparring or in the field. He'll never admit it to anyone, especially because he's supposed to be the bogeyman, the hyper-competent machine who never stays down, but he wants to be taken out. He's heartbroken and grieving and lacking in any knowledge of how to healthily process any of it so it all comes out as fury and violence and he constantly feels like a rabid dog that needs to be put down. He's forced to re-learn restraint after certain incidents have him in danger of being discharged from duty, permanently, and he realises with a kind of of sinking blankness that this is all he has left to cling onto. So he gets his shit together, or as much as he can. And years later, when he dies on a mission, his vision blurs and for a moment he thinks he hears Johnny's voice.

[multific]

Of Dog Tags and Love Letters

Simon Riley x Reader

Summary: Simon Riley never says “I love you” out loud. Instead, he writes letters, letters you were never meant to find.

Simon wasn’t the kind of man who said “I love you” easily.

He showed it instead.

He showed it in the way he pulled you close at night, in the way his hand always rested on the small of your back in public, in the way he made sure you always walked on the safer inside of the sidewalk.

His love wasn’t loud or obvious, but it was steady, always there.

Still, you wanted to hear it.

Just once.

Just once you wanted to hear him say it.

Simon had been gone on a mission for a few weeks.

You missed him, missed the way the house felt different when he was home.

Tonight, the quiet felt heavier than usual.

That’s what led you to the room, sitting on the bed, fidgeting with his dog tags.

That’s when you found them.

A small metal box, tucked away beneath an old shirt. You were trying to find a shirt which still smelled like him.

Inside the box, there were letters.

Dozens of them, all folded neatly, your name written on each one.

Your stomach flipped as you picked one up, your fingers shaking slightly as you unfolded the paper.

The handwriting was rough and rushed.

But it was undeniably his.

If you’re reading this, it means I didn’t make it back.

Your breathing stopped, but you kept reading.

I don’t say things the way I should. Never have. But you should know… you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re the reason I want to come back in one piece. If I don’t... just know that I love you. Always have, always will.

Your chest ached as you grabbed another letter.

It was the same.

So was the next.

You looked at the dates. Every letter is written before a mission.

Every single one, carrying the words he never said to your face.

I love you.

All of them, filled with meaning and care. All of them are written from the heart.

You pressed them to your chest, blinking back tears.

Three days later, he was home.

The second he walked through the door, you didn’t wait. You crashed into him, arms wrapped tight around his middle.

He let out a small grunt of surprise. “What’s all this then?”

“You’re an idiot,” you mumbled into his shoulder.

He huffed a quiet laugh, arms circling around you. “Good to see you too, Love.”

You pulled back, searching his tired eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Simon’s body tensed. “Tell you what?”

You lifted your chin. “About the letters.”

His whole body went still.

“…You found them.” His voice was quiet.

You nodded. “Yeah. And I had to find out from some scraps of paper that you truly love me?”

His jaw flexed like he was bracing for something. “I didn’t think I’d ever—” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s not easy for me.”

“I don’t care if it’s easy,” you shot back, stepping closer to him. “Do you think this is easy for me? Waiting? Wondering if you’ll come home?” Your voice cracked. “Wondering if I’ll ever get to tell you—”

You stopped yourself, swallowing hard.

Simon’s eyes softened. “Tell me what?”

You exhaled. “That I love you too, you idiot.”

His breath hitched.

Then, before you could say anything else, he cupped your face in his hands, pressing his forehead to yours. His touch was warm, and grounding.

“Say it again,” he whispered, begged.

A smile tugged at your lips. You rested your hands on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. “I love you.”

His eyes closed, and he let out a slow breath like he was letting himself believe it. When he spoke again, his voice was deep, barely above a whisper.

“I love you too.”

And this time, he didn’t need a letter to say it.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[dumpywrites]

Trophy Boy - Jeon Jungkook

Prompt: Beauty privilege exists, that's why you're selling your hot best friend.

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Fluff, friends to lovers, model! Jungkook, soft! Jungkook, office worker reader

Pairing: Jungkook x she/her reader

a/n: softie and goofy Jungkook is my weakness! and I know ya'll feel the same way :)

Yet another busy day at the office. You were sitting down in a slumped position in your cubicle, something you should probably change or would regret in the future. The hot air was not helping you at all and you were starting to sweat through your stripped shirt, despite the air conditioner being on full blast. 

Boss just entered the room with the not-so-short rant targeted specifically to the marketing team. Apparently interest in buying plain tees and other basic fashion items were not the greatest at the moment, but if you actually were to be frank, it was more on the brand you were working at. Your boss was blaming things left and right, trying to find excuses to cope with his current losses. 

The thing was with the big guy, was that he wanted huge impact while spending the smallest amount he could possibly afford. It was a somewhat clever business decision in terms of saving cost, but sometimes people just needed that extra boom. That go big or go home. If your boss wanted his brand to reach a new market of people, he needed to brave himself for greater risks. 

“Sir, maybe we do need to endorse some big name influencers to help boost our social media exposure.” One of your co-workers spoke up. 

“We cannot afford millions just for a few Instagram stories, moreover they charge more for a simple photoshoots.” Your boss replied with a groan. 

“Sir, but if you look at how Calvin Klein promote their stuff, we obviously need some good looking people wearing and demonstrating how good our products could be.” The guy retorted. “Good looking people make basic items look good. That’s literally what they do.” 

“Good looking people cost a lot, Hoseok. If you could somehow find me a drop dead gorgeous guy who would somehow accept anything under thirty dollars per hour, we’ll talk.” And with that the man walked out from the room. 

“Well good luck on that, I guess.” Hoseok rolled his eyes with a smirk. 

“At this rate you’re gonna get kick out.” You eyed the guy next to you. “We don’t want that, remember? We need you resigning with class, so that you don’t get a bad rep???”

“That man needs to know that whatever boomer shit we’re doing here, ain’t gonna boost our sales!” He protested. “You could buy plain white t-shirts anywhere, what makes us special?!”

“True.” You sighed. “I even heard the design team complaining about this.”

“If only we could afford that one handsome mukbang streamer who is everywhere right now.” Hoseok sighed along with you. 

“If you could magically make Kim Seokjin to accept three hundred per hour I would literally worship you.” 

“Do you maybe have any hot friends?” 

“God, I don’t know?! Do you??? I don’t have any friends who are influencers or anything.” 

“Can I see any group photos you have? They don’t have to be an influencer. Just gotta be good looking enough. The rest can be helped through styling.” Hoseok scooted closer. 

“You sound crazy.” You eyed the guy, shaking your head. “Are we that desperate?!”

“Hey, maybe doing this could help me get that recommendation letter, you know?” Hoseok said smugly. “Now let me look through your friend group…”

“If you wanted a decent looking guy that we could revamp by styling later, Yoongi literally exists.” You said, suggesting the tech-support guy. 

“He’s short. Although I get your point, would he even be willing to do so without actually killing any of us???”

“Fair enough.” You laughed. “Here, I don’t know, take a look at my friends, I guess…”You handed him your phone. 

The picture you flashed on your phone screen was from a recent dinner hangout you had with your group friend of five. Hoseok throughly scanned the photo as if he was doing some detective work. It did not take him too long before an idea popped and he snapped his fingers. He straightened his pose and moved his chair closer to you. 

“Who is this hunk with tattoos?!”

“Uh, that’s my friend Jungkook?” You eyed him suspiciously. “Don’t tell me—“

“He’s hot.”

You stopped and looked back to your co-worker’s direction. “He’s the most unserious person I know, we can’t—“

“But he’s hot.” Hoseok cut your sentence again. “He’s not like a model or something, right?”

“He’s a graphic designer…” You replied, unsure. 

“Perfect! That means he won’t mind us underpaying him.” He smirked. “Do not argue with me right now, I know you agree with me.”

You eyed the guy again, searching for doubt and found none. The guy was dead serious about this. 

“Fine.”

**

And that was how you found yourself assisting your friend for his now third photoshoot. After the first one being a huge success, your company kept asking for more content and for him to become their part time model. 

Obviously your friend’s beauty was no news for you. Jungkook had always been cute in your eyes alone, way before he discovered Pinterest and basic styling. You had known him for a few years, the friend group was built around university days after all, and you had seen him through thick and thin. Literally though, you saw him transformed from this scrawny boy to a gym bro right in front of you. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by a few knocks at the door. You straightened your figure and told the person to enter. 

“Hi, Y/N!” 

It was Chaewon from design department. Her alongside with Jimin both work in the fashion area. While she designed the silhouettes, Jimin helped with the styling. Even though she was a normal employee like you, she actually was the CEO’s daughter. It was a known fact already, but she insisted to be treated the same as everyone else. 

“Hi, do you need something, Chaewon?” 

“I need to talk to you about something…” The girl said, looking nervous. She was fidgeting her fingertips and looking to other direction. 

“Sure, what is it?”

“Jungkook’s your friend, right?”

“Uh, yeah… why?”

“I really need your help.” She put her hands together above her head. “I need a plus one to a wedding.”

“And you need Jungkook to help you?” You looked at her questioningly. 

“Yes!” She said, nodding her head a few times. “Please, my ex is gonna be there.”

“I’m not sure if he’s willing—“

“I’ll pay.”

You froze and she continued again. 

“I overheard you talking to Hoseok that Jungkook’s not getting the pay he deserves because he’s new…“

“Chaewon, you don’t have to—“

“Please, just this once??? If it makes you feel better I’ll pay you both.” When you stopped she added. “Is five hundred enough? I’ll give you the same amount.” 

You gulped. So unlike her father, Chaewon was not at all stingy. Her offer sounded really tempting. While you wanted to say it sounded good in your head out of good conscious in you, because Jungkook deserved better pay, you also couldn’t lie to yourself that you needed the extra dollars at the moment. Accidentally dropping your phone from the stairs and having to replace the whole screen certainly did a dent to your savings. Not to mention how your car just broke down a month ago.

“I’ll… ask him.”

“Awesome. Let me know as soon as possible cause the wedding’s this weekend!” She smiled before exiting the room. 

You spent the next few hours contemplating with your inner debate. It sounded rather wrong, but there’s no harm if he agrees to it? You thought. 

“Hey, there!”

Speak of the devil. There he was, skipping through the office walking straight to your shared room. The muscle bunny, sometimes his duality scared you, how his facial expression and demeanor could switch in between takes and breaks. He looked effortlessly good with the brand’s blank white t-shirt hugging his body nicely. Let Jimin cook because he styled his hair wavy this time and it looked so good on him. 

“Hello to you too, Mr. Model.” You shook your head, smiling. “Done with the shoots?”

“Yep. I finished an hour earlier this time.” He leaned to your table with a grin on his lips. 

“You didn’t give Jimin and Chaewon a hard time, right?” You said, mentioning the design team. 

“Nope.” He giggled. “Chaewon even said that I’ve improved a lot and I barely need any pose references now.”

“That’s great.” You said with your eyes still glued to the computer screen. 

He hummed and took the empty seat next to you. He started flipping through his phone, not wanting to disturb you but also not wanting to leave.

“Aren’t you leaving? Hoseok’s meeting is done in like ten minutes. He’s gonna need that seat.” You pointed. 

He bit his inner cheeks. “What time are you finished?”

“At five? And you knew this already, stop asking.”

“Who knows if I keep asking, one day you’ll get to clock out earlier.” He shrugged. 

You chuckled. “You know you don’t have to wait up for me every single time.” 

“You got me the job, it’s only fair. Besides, I’m not doing photoshoots every single day.”

Yeah and they’re underpaying you. You sighed. “Kook, I want to ask you something…”

His eyes lit up as he perked up, looking to your direction like a puppy. He nodded eagerly with a smile, waiting for you. “Yeah?”

“Chaewon asked me if you’d be interested on being her plus one at a wedding?”

The excitement in his face dropped almost instantly. You could see his eyes frowned at the question thrown at him. 

“That’s weird. Why would she?”

“It’s a wedding and her ex is attending.” You explained. “She said she’ll pay.”

“Nah, that’s still fucked up though. Isn’t she the big boss’ daughter or something?!” He raised his eyebrows. 

“But she’ll pay.” You repeated. “She told me five hundred…”

“Oh shit.” He widened his eyes. “For real?!”

You nodded. “Just say yes, it’s literally just a one time thing.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, I’ll help you out with everything.” 

He breathed out a sigh. “Alright, only if you’ll help me out.” 

“Great, I’ll let Chaewon know.” You turned your head quickly realizing Hoseok was already at the door. “Go home, don’t wait up for me.”

He shook his head and smile. “Okay, don’t forget to eat, yeah?” 

“I won’t. See ya, Kook.” 

He waved his hand to you with a big tooth-aching smile and headed towards the door. He briefly waved to Hoseok and the guy greeted him back before he went out. 

“How are you not dating that dude is beyond me.” Hoseok suddenly blurted as he calmly took his seat. 

You almost choked on nothing. “Excuse me?!”

“That boy is clearly into you. He basically waits for you every single time like an obedient dog.”

“Cause he’s my friend and I technically got him this job? He said it himself.”

“Sure.” He snickered, eyes immediately back to his computer screen. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“I will because that’s the truth.” You rolled your eyes and returned to your work. 

**

As promised, you found yourself accompanying Jungkook on a Saturday morning, helping him choosing a suit. Jimin was kind enough to recommend you a good place to rental one. Man only had baggy clothes and baggy clothes only in his wardrobe, and for sure they were not a good fit for a wedding.

“Have you asked Chaewon what color she’ll be wearing?” Jungkook asked as he browsed through the hanger. 

“Didn’t I gave you her number? You should talk to her you know, it’ll be less awkward.” 

The guy puffed his cheeks, pouting. “Dunno dude… It still feels kinda weird to me. I’ll rehearse when I pick her up.” 

“Oh, speaking of that. I’ve rented the car for you. It’s a Lexus.”

“Couldn’t afford a Porche or some?” 

“I figured we don’t need to be that flashy.”

“I was joking.” Jungkook sighed with a smile. “It’s always straight up business with you, huh?”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” You looked at him for a second, but proofing him right as your eyes quickly moved to the loafer shoes at the shelf. “I think these could go well with your suit.” 

The man sighed again with a defeated smile on his face as he took the loader to try them on. “This is fun too, I guess…”

“You mean renting an outfit and cosplaying as a rich person?” You quirked your eyebrow and grinned. 

“No, I mean hanging out with you like this, silly. When was even the last time we hangout like this?” He chuckled, jumping up and down as he tried the shoes. “Would you look at that, I could probably dance in these!” 

“We’ll take those then.” You gestured him to take them off and he did so. “I don’t know, back in college??? Back then when I helped you buying an outfit for—“

“Don’t!” With his eyes widened he immediately stopped you from finishing your sentence. 

“Why?” You laughed. 

“Do not even man… that was so embarrassing.” He covered his face. “My confidence level was through the roof thinking I could win someone with a bowl cut.”

“Hey, that bowl cut wasn’t so bad!” You chuckled. “Aww, I suddenly missed the cute and innocent looking Jungkookie…”

“You mean I don’t look cute and innocent anymore?” He batted his eyelashes at you jokingly. 

“Taehyung thought you were a drug dealer when he first met you.” You folded your arms. 

“He’s a judgmental person.” He clicked his tongue. “I am in fact still cute, you need to accept that.”

“Sure.” You giggled and patted him right in his tatted bicep. 

There were some audible protests coming from your friend, but you let him be as you paid for the rented clothings and footwear. 

After making sure all things were set, you texted Chaewon to double check on the time and place, as well as asking her on whether there was a specific topic she wanted to talk or not to talk. Jungkook still refused to call her or even text her personally, which is a bit annoying, but at the end of the day you were also getting that paycheck so you couldn’t complain too much, since Jungkook was the main performer in this after all. 

“All good?” You asked him. 

“Do you think I should take off my lip piercings?” He said, looking at the mirror. 

“Nah, it’s fine. Chaewon already knows what she’s doing when she asked for you.” 

“She specifically wants a bad boy for a plus one?” 

“Now who says you’re a bad boy?”

“I thought we just had a talk about how I don’t look cute and innocent anymore???” He turned to face you. “Although, I’m not a believer but that’s your statement.” He shrugged with a big smirk on his lips. 

“Your exterior yes, but you’re not fooling anyone with your personality, my guy. You’re a softie.” You chuckled and moved closer to fix his crooked tie.

A genuine smile was visible on his face. “Glad to hear that.” 

Seeing his smile instantly made you did as well. “Nervous?”

“Me? Nah, never.” He dismissed. 

“Of course.” You giggled. “Go, we’re so gonna try that new Japanese restaurant after this!”

And the party went well. Apparently Jungkook impressed all of Chaewon’s friends, even though they were not the main target and some were even aware of the agreement. Most importantly, he got her ex’s attention. He got the guy approaching, introducing himself, and seemingly pissed when Jungkook decided not to reveal his name to him in return. 

In conclusion, Chaewon had a great time and both of you were paid handsomely. Oh, that wagyu beef you had together afterwards sure was delicious! 

**

“I may need to borrow Jungkook again.” 

You stared at the lady in front of you, fazed. Chaewon had just stopped you right after work, just randomly popping the sentence out of nowhere. You were not too sure how to react. 

“I’ll pay again! Don’t worry.” She giggled nervously. “It’s just that, my parents actually think it’s good if I have someone with me to attend a shareholder party…” 

“I see.” Was all you could say. 

“They don’t know I’m paying both of you but they do think he’s one good looking arm candy…”

You sure did not like how she phrased that. 

“It’ll be quicker than the wedding, it’s just a small dinner.” She reasoned again. “Can you ask Jungkook?”

“Why don’t you?” You cleared your throat quickly after realizing how that might sound rude. “I mean, you could just ask him?”

“I don’t think he’s that comfortable with me… He also talked to me through you, no? Please, I really need your help.” 

“I…” The thought of your unfinished car payment started to fill your mind again. “I’ll talk to him.” 

“I’m counting on you.” She quickly reached for your hand and shook it vigorously. “And uh, keep it between us but I think you’ll be getting a raise next month with your contribution and all.” She winked before leaving you. 

The whole ride back home got you thinking deeply. Mostly considering your morals and common sense. Sure it was easy money on your part, and while Jungkook himself had not shown major complaints, you couldn’t help but to feel awful. You then decided to give him a call.

“Ye?” The guy on the other line sounded like he had food inside his mouth as he spoke. 

“You busy?” 

“Wait.” He said, seemingly taking his time to swallow. “No, I was just catching up on Squid Game with Bam. What’s up?”

“Chaewon kinda asked for your help again.” 

“Huh?” He voiced, followed by an upcoming video call notification. 

“Wait, do you really have to video call right now???” You swore you almost laughed, this man could be out of this world sometimes. 

“I need your live reaction.” He chuckled. “And Bam too! Don’t you miss him?”

“Shit, hold on.” You quickly took a peek at your reflection in the mirror, making sure your at home appearance was at least presentable before you accept the call request. “You are so weird, you know that?”

“I’m aware.” He laughed and took his dog’s paw to playfully wave at you, making you smile. 

“So uh, about Chaewon…”

“Oh yeah, that.” He frowned. “Do I need to go to another wedding? Damn, people must really care about the declining birth rate…”

“Her parents apparently wanted her to go to a dinner with the shareholders.” You controlled yourself not to make any weird expression, thinking about the word eye-candy Chaewon called him still rubbed you the wrong way. 

“Oh, am I gonna get introduced as a model?” He beamed. “That’d be cool.” 

“I don’t know.” You said, trying not to sound discouraging. “She’s gonna pay again though…”

“Ah…” He nodded, biting his inner cheeks. “I kinda need me a new camera…” 

“So?”

“Yeah, why the heck not.” He shrugged. “Does this mean we’ll get another makeover montage moment though???”

“We don’t need to rent a suit for this but I’ll help you out with your outfit choices, I guess.” 

“Cool, it’s a date then?”

You looked at him a bit weirded out but man just flashed you a big grin like it was nothing. 

“What?! I mean it’s kinda like a date since I don’t have to dress all formal.” He chuckled. 

“Of course.” You rolled your eyes. 

“I wonder though, I’m not one to judge but can’t she have anyone, I don’t know… more normal?” He then threw a cheeto in his mouth, snacking on it. “She’s a rich girl who’s also conveniently good looking. I’m sure there’s someone willing to go without payment.”

“You think she’s pretty?”

“I mean yeah.” He said, casually crunching on another cheeto. 

You didn’t know why a random opinion of his bothered you somehow, but you decided to shoo the thoughts away. “I don’t know but I think you’re underestimating the power you hold here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jungkook, you are aware that you’re hot, right?” That might be too bold of you, but you were feeling a bit frisky. 

“Oooh~” He laughed giddily. “Didn’t know you think of me that way but thank you.” 

“Don’t play dumb, I wouldn’t offer you the job if I thought otherwise.” 

“I’m so telling the others. They need to know that you find me hot.” 

“Jungkook, what the hell—“

“Matter of fact, I’m gonna invite Taehyung to this call…” He snickered. 

“What?! No!” You quickly pressed the end call button out of panic. 

A text notification showed up immediately after the line ended, filled with a bunch of laughing emojis, saying that he was just joking and that he would see you on the next photoshoot. You wondered what made your heart doing summersaults but it did for a moment. 

**

“What do girls even like?” Jungkook asked you as he put on his leather jacket. “I probably won’t need this since I won’t be riding my bike, huh?”

You were sitting on his bed, one which had a few clothings messily displayed. It was an off day but you needed to help him with his outfit for another “gig�� with Chaewon. The supposed job was not until the next day, but you had to visit your family hence why you were meeting a day prior. To be frank, you didn’t think he even needed you, considering you knew how he dressed on daily basis, but somehow he kept insisting that he needed your opinion as a woman, his words not yours. 

“Just be yourself.” You said as you looked at him from top to bottom. “Do not loose the jacket, it’s nice.” 

He put the outer back on, admiring at his reflection on the mirror. “You think?”

“I’m sure you go on a lot of dates… I assumed.” You gave him a look. 

“Oh, you think so?” He chuckled. 

You looked at him suspiciously. “I don’t know? It’s not like I know your private life like that. When was the last time you went out on a date?”

“Hmm.” He tapped his chin in a comical way. “Last month, I think?”

You almost asked on why you hadn’t heard any of it, but you felt like it wasn’t your place to. “Oh? How was it?”

“It was okay-ish.” He shrugged. “I think she liked me I dunno…”

“You seem disinterested.” 

“You gotta try dating apps man… it drains you so much mentally to the point you start thinking everyone’s the same and nothing really matters.” He laughed. 

“You sure you’re not exaggerating?” 

“Maybe I am just a bit.” He chuckled. “But man… I’m so fed up with people!” He said, joining you sitting down on his bed. 

“Then why don’t you just delete the app?” 

He shrugged. “At the end of the day I’m still a human being who needs someone. It gets lonely sometimes.” 

“I wanna say working is a great distraction but let’s be honest it’s not.” You shook your head. 

“What ever happened to that guy that Namjoon introduced you to?” 

“Didn’t quite worked out. Plus, that was like what, five months ago??? Keep up with the news, please.” You laughed. 

“And no one told me?!” He looked at you, pretending to be offended. 

“It’s not exactly the most interesting story to tell… He’s a nice guy but two weeks into knowing him, he had to move to Singapore for a job.”

“Damn, that’s sad.” He clicked his tongue. 

“He’s not exactly my type anyways.” You chuckled. 

Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows, instantly getting a judgy look from you. “How exactly is your type then?”

“I like my men like I like my food.”

“Girlie, you eat anything.” Jungkook slanted his eyes. 

“Exactly, I’m not picky. As long as they’re honest and kind… I guess.”

He booed. “That’s boring.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help a smile. “Hey, I’m a simple person. And in today’s world it’s hard to find someone who has those traits, you know?” You hit his arm. “What about you? Being a model and all now must have set a new standard for you, huh?”

He laughed. “Nah, I don’t really have a type either. I just want someone who matches my freak.”

“That’s gotta be hard.” You giggled. 

“Hopefully not.” He grinned. “I mean, you kinda do…” He looked up at the ceiling, playfully whistling. 

“Aww, Kookie~” You cooed, teasing him. 

“I’m not joking.” He furrowed his brows like a kid. 

“Of course not.” You chuckled and ruffled his already messy hair. 

Jungkook protested and grabbed your wrist to stop you, but for a moment both of you stopped at eye level, just looking into each other. Your teasing grin slowly faded to be replaced with a tense gaze. The dark round pair of orbs were now staring into your eyes. 

Your mind was short circuiting when he suddenly moved closer. Your eyes squinted shut immediately, but nothing really happened after that. Jungkook just laughed it out and softly pushed you off him.

**

After the second agreement ended successfully, Chaewon had decided to come back yet again asking for Jungkook’s help. For sure she couldn’t be having that many social events to attend to, but apparently she did. This time, she needed him for her school reunion, said that it’d bad for her rep to show up alone after introducing him to her so-called friends just recently. 

This time, you were at your limit though. You weren’t so sure how Jungkook felt about the whole ordeal, but you on the other hand felt terrible. You could not just keep continuing and pretending like you weren’t basically selling your friend for money. And so after taking a deep breath, you politely rejected her offer. 

“Oh, come on! It’ll be the last time! Please???”She pleaded. 

“You need to ask him then, and uh… if he ends up agreeing you don’t have to pay me anymore. I kinda feel bad….”

“Guess I have to ask him myself then.” She heaved a sigh. “I’ll ask him after his photoshoot today.”

“I don’t mean to offend you in any way though, I just feel like I’m exploiting him.”

“No, don’t worry I get it.” She smiled, waving her hand in front of her face. 

When you arrived at the set the photoshoot was nearly on its end. As usual you get to monitor a bit and asked the staff about the progress. What was odd and new to you was seeing Chaewon being touchy with Jungkook. You knew she was a stylist and it was her job to take care of his looks during the shoot, but the high pitch laughs? Did she really need to touch his hair like that? And why did Jungkook seemed fine and joked back with her. The photographer definitely did not have to say that they look good together too. 

You did not hear anything from Jungkook after his photoshoot. You were busy with your job, mostly trying to distract yourself from the fact that you were too scared to ask the guy, you were even too anxious to meet him just at the thought of him finding out about your agreement. You didn’t get the chance to find out the event but kept wondering if he had agreed or not. Seeing how friendly they were today, maybe he did say yes to it. 

You also wondered since when did you start feeling jealous over this whole situation. Maybe that one moment between you and Jungkook that day really did something to you. He was about to kiss you, wasn’t he? Or maybe you were just going crazy. 

Funny enough, you thought the lad had went home straight after his photoshoot, but he surprised you with two cups of boba in his hands right after work. 

“You’re still here?!” You were surprised. 

“I didn’t wanna bother you, you seemed very focused today.” He giggled and handed you one of the drinks. “Let’s find somewhere to sit and finish the drink, I’ll take you home after.”

You gulped, the anxiety starting to consume you again. “O-Okay.”

Jungkook seemed to notice the nervousness in the tone of your voice as he looked at you, but he didn’t say anything. You two walked towards a nearby bench outside the building and sat down. It was chilly and you could see the wind blowing his hair nicely, making him look straight out of a movie scene. 

“Thanks… for the boba.” You said, a little nervous. 

“Chaewon kinda gave me an offer again…” 

“Oh.” You said, avoiding his eyes. “How did that go?”

“I don’t know I’m still thinking about it.”

“I see.” You said, trying not to sound too unenthusiastic about it. 

“She said you don’t wanna be involved anymore though.” He stopped walking. “Did I do something wrong??? If it’s about what happened last time I’m terribly sorry…”

“No! Jungkook, you’re not the one who should be apologizing here!” You sighed. 

“Why?”

You couldn’t find yourself to explain further. “You should just say yes, it literally means no harm.”

“But why don’t you wanna help out anymore?!”

One thing about Jungkook was that he sure was one hell of a hard headed man. 

“I just have more stuff I need to handle outside work and I don’t have the time.” You lied. 

Jungkook looked at you with doubt but nodded anyway. “But we’re okay though, right?”

The big round eyeballs were looking at you, as if pleading. Who would say no to that. 

**

At this point you were sure there was something wrong with you. 

You knew Jungkook had to come today for some extra footages. That was why you were trying your hardest to not leave your room and made yourself look busy. Hoseok seemed to notice your weird behavior but this time the man said nothing and let you be. 

You managed to avoid your friend for an insufferable few hours, until you had to go to relieve yourself. You saw Chaewon and Jimin first, but then the person who you were suppose to avoid popped out from the restroom, seemingly just done changing back to his own clothes. 

Your eyes met immediately and of course his first reaction was to flash you the brightest smile he could. You could tell there was a hint of awkwardness in it, but you didn’t want to further ponder on it. 

You waved back timidly, hurrying yourself to the toilet. You even spent a good ten minutes there, hoping they’d leave, but when you were done, Chaewon and Jungkook were still chatting in front. 

Chaewon smiled in defeat and grabbed you by your arm. “I just got rejected.” 

You widened your eyes and instantly jerked your head towards your friend. The guy only smiled in return. 

“Guess you guys are really a bundle, huh? Maybe I should consider asking our tech support guy.” She chuckled. 

“Why don’t you just date for real? I could introduce you to some guys.” Jungkook said. 

“No, not right now at least.” She giggled. “Too bad, you can’t help me anymore, it’s not exactly easy to find people who would just agree to this.”

“Really?” Jungkook voiced. “I thought you’ve done this before.”

“Why do you think I even paid your friend here just so you could say yes?” She laughed, not knowing the information she had just revealed. 

“Oh, you also got paid?”

“Excuse me, if you guys don’t mind I still got work left undone.” 

Without looking back you quickly escaped the scene and half-ran to your room. Neither of them came looking for you afterwards so you assumed you were at least safe for the day. 

That was again until you saw a certain Bambi eyed, boba ball looking man waiting for you at the front entrance. 

“You finished early today.” He waved. “Wanna get some corndog? I—“

“Jungkook, why aren’t you mad at me?”

The guy looked at you for a second before speaking. “Why should I be angry at you again?”

You sighed. “I got paid without you knowing. I basically sold you.” You looked away, trying to control your emotion. 

You heard his sigh and his shoulders drooped as he walked closer to you. “No, you didn’t. I also got paid and I enjoyed doing the job.”

“If you enjoyed it then what’s the difference if I’m involved or not? I’m sure you don’t need my help.”

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?” He took a last sip of the drink in his hand before setting it aside. “I only agreed just so I can spend time with you more, dummy.”

You were lost of words.

“I thought having a crush on you was a phase but it turns out I really do like you.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh dear, I hope I’m not making this weird for you.” He chuckled nervously. 

Your mouth went slightly ajar as you froze in place. Jungkook liked you? 

“I’m sorry again for that day. I tried to kiss you, it was weird and you seemed really scared. I still can’t get that image out of my head.” Seeing you being all silent he started to panic. “Say something… please.” 

You were still processing the whole thing. First thing your friend having feelings for you, second being you seemingly discovering that you were not opposed to the idea and your heart was beating so fast it could explode in any moment. So the weird feeling you had been feeling the past few days, weeks even, was something after all. 

You looked up at him, eyes almost teary. “Hold on let me process this.” 

“I’m so sorry, you don’t have to say anything back! I’m just gonna go—“ 

“I like you too.” You shyly smiled. 

“Oh.” The guy’s cheeks turned pink as he giddily smiled back. “That’s nice…” 

“Uh huh.” You giggled. 

“So, wanna hold hands?” He looked away as he offered his hand to you. 

You expected him to be more on the confident playboy type now, guess you were wrong. Guess the same boy you knew still existed. 

You smiled, cheeks turning red as well as you took his hand. “You are such a nerd.” 

Both of you walked hand in hand that night, feeling all warm inside despite the cold night air. 

Thank you for reading! 📸

[lightseoul]

CHAPTER 8 | ALL OUT OF LUCK

w.c. 5.1k

tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), lots of cussing, mentions of food, so much violence. like so much y'all but it's Canon-typical violence, references to (quirk) supremacist views, a (somewhat) graphic depiction of mental health issues

a/n. the content of this chapter is one of the reasons why i almost didn't start this series in the first place. as it turns out, action scenes are deceptively difficult to write—i struggled at first, but i eventually got into the groove of things and found it so fun! so much shit will go down, and i hope you find yourselves at the edge of your seats while reading this <3 please, please let me know what you think and don't be a stranger! enjoy :')

links. masterlist, ao3

You shoot up at the blaring sound of the alarm clock.

You scramble to reach and turn it off where it stands on the nightstand—quickly, before it wakes Bakugou up—a sigh of relief wracking your body when you manage to do so, a sudden stillness instantly enveloping the room.

That relief doesn’t last very long, though, because you’re once again shot with panic when you look up toward the foot of the bed, only to see the man himself already standing in front of it—fully awake.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, clutching your chest, “You scared me.”

“It’s too early to be this scared, princess,” is his pointed retort, a small hint of teasing underlying his tone. You shoot him a pained smile but don’t say anything back, not finding the courage within you to admit that your hands may or may not be already shaking in anticipatory anxiety.

Instead, you watch him as he does mobility stretches in place, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth as he warms up his joints and rotates his limbs. He invites you to join him a moment after, and you do, if not in an attempt to ground yourself then in preparation for any physical combat that may ensue later on.

Not much is said between the two of you as you go on to prepare for the day, maneuvering silently within his bedroom and taking turns in the bathroom. He lets you get changed first, and you shimmy yourself in your most comfortable office clothes, finding almost immediately that describing them as ‘comfortable’ might be a stretch. Least suffocating, maybe—but the instructions were clear that you had to look the part, at least so that you could get past the guards and enter the building.

Apparently, you need to infiltrate the place organically to buy you as much time to position yourselves without raising suspicion. Mystically showing up on the premises with a man who will vanish not a moment later wouldn’t exactly be a common sight for the employees manning the CCTVs.

Well, then. You guess your long-sleeved blouse, slacks, and regrettably heeled shoes will have to do.

Not even five minutes after you step out of the restroom so he can get dressed himself, Bakugou emerges in a similarly dark, wrist-length shirt and trousers, and you’re about to comment on this unfamiliar yet…welcome sight when your eyes catch his notoriously unruly head of hair—magically pushed back, revealing his forehead.

Now, of all the things that strangely popped into your mind upon seeing him—handsome definitely wasn’t one of them—what you end up blurting is: “How the hell did you style it that fast?”

“Huh?” he responds absentmindedly, fiddling with his sleeves as he seats himself on the edge of the bed opposite from you. “Style what?”

You gesture towards his head. “Your hair. Hasn’t it always been a little hard to control?”

Folding his sleeves right up to his forearm, he then turns to face you, a borderline sheepish expression etched on his features. “’s some extra strong gel. Best Jeanist gifted it to me for my birthday.”

Ah.

“Yeah, well, it suits you,” you offer honestly, averting your gaze just as you think he is about to flash you a smirk. And before he can say anything: “I’m guessing you’re ditching the gauntlets for today?”

He nods, although he’s suddenly looking far from pleased. “No choice,” he intones, “My firepower will take a hit, but I can still get by without them.”

“Enough to kick some ass?”

A grin. “Always.”

You let Bakugou’s well-earned confidence infect you as you finish getting ready together, stuffing your respective bags with things you can let go of in case they get caught up in the fight, before finally walking out of your little sanctuary and into the living room. The twins are on you in an instant, installing your trackers on your chests where they’ve since taken residence for the past two weeks, pulling away without a single word afterward. You mutter a quick thanks, before walking toward Bakugou on the couch and asking him what he wants for breakfast.

“Something light,” is his answer. “Don’t wanna be bogged down by a heavy stomach.”

You end up getting him french toast with a protein shake—whether or not that was light for a man his size, you have no idea—while ordering a croissant and iced tea for yourself. You don’t bother asking the twins if they want to get something as well—opting to just get them breakfast sandwiches and coffee instead. You heard a stomach grumble just a few minutes ago—and it definitely wasn’t yours or Bakugou’s.

The food arrives just as quickly as it did the night prior, and you waste no time digging in. To your pleasant surprise, the twins accept the offering, albeit too begrudgingly for your taste. Maybe letting them starve was the smarter move for today’s final mission, but as you watch them scarf everything down in a matter of minutes, you decide that that’s a trade-off you’re willing to overcompensate for.

By the time you’ve finished eating and cleaning up, it’s a few minutes before 6 AM, and you resolve that as far as D-Days are concerned, the start of this one is going swimmingly well.

Right up to the moment Kouki materializes and grabs Bakugou’s wrist but not yours.

“Change of plans.”

At that, you instantly freeze just as Bakugou barks: “The fuck do you mean change of plans?”

That doesn’t seem to faze the teleporter, who instead regards the pro-hero with a stern, almost chastising look. “You’re needed in one of the schools. You’re coming with me.”

Somehow, you snap out of it. “But you said—”

“It’s a direct order,” he spews, now looking at you with such intensity that has your blood turning cold. “One that you have to follow. Unless…”

“Unless, what?” growls Bakugou.

He smiles. “Unless you want us to call off the entire operation and teleport where you can’t find us.”

Fuck.

Beside you, Bakugou must be thinking the exact same thing, because he suddenly goes quiet.

Kouki harrumphs. “That’s what I thought.”

Neither Bakugou nor you say anything else in protest after that, acutely aware of the gamble that has to be made.

It’s clear as day: either you follow the order and divide and possibly conquer, or resist and lose them altogether.

Perhaps for good.

Armed with the explosives Bakugou made himself, no less.

You chance a glance at the pro-hero, and the impassive look on his face is enough to tell you what he’s decided on.

You’re running out of time and you also need to say something, you know that. Otherwise, he’s going to think there’s something more important to the two of you than seeing the operation you’ve been devotedly ‘working on’ to fruition.

Something beyond just two lovers ensuring each other’s safety.

Forcing yourself to meet Kouki’s steely gaze, you finally relent and nod. “How’s the rest of us gonna get to our post, then?”

“I’ll come back right after I teleport him,” comes his speedy answer, seemingly satisfied with your newfound enthusiasm. “I’ll take you three to where Masaki is waiting near the Prime Minister’s Office.”

“He’s already there?” you can’t help but ask, suddenly nervous at the mention of the kingpin.

You still don’t know his quirk.

“Yes, and he mustn’t be kept waiting,” Kouki says cuttingly, before turning to regard Bakugou, whose wrist he’s still holding. “We’ve to get going.”

“Alright,” the pro-hero grits out, shrugging off the man’s hold, “Just—give me a sec.”

For a second, you think he’s going to head to the restroom to pee before the ‘mission’ starts, but then he’s stepping towards you, and you barely manage to stop yourself from tilting away when he leans into your space, immediately followed by a firm grip on your shoulders. Despite yourself, you gulp.

Bakugou lets out a long exhale. He’s not looking at you—you note—gaze directed towards the floor. You decide then and there that you don’t like seeing him like this.

Like he’s actually…scared.

“Hey,” you whisper, and he looks up, finally meeting your eyes. You almost stumble at the sheer intensity of them.

Almost.

In spite of that—and you don’t know how you do it—you manage to smile at him, as genuinely as you can.

“What are you so worried about?” you tease, voice soft enough for just him to hear. “I’ll be okay.”

To your dismay, that doesn’t make Bakugou laugh—countenance still grim—but his features do soften. So minutely, the change is almost imperceptible—but it’s there.

“How can you be so sure?” he actually whispers back.

That makes you grin, the answer already at the tip of your tongue.

“Because you don’t date losers.”

Now, at your quip, you expected him to at least smile. Maybe chuckle, if that punchline came out funnier than you intended it to.

But what you absolutely didn’t expect was for him to grab you by the neck and pull you into a kiss.

It takes you a second to realize what’s happening, body rigid in utter surprise, but you eventually relax into his hold, wrapping your arms around his torso as he deepens the kiss. A few more seconds pass by with your lips interlocked before he finally pulls away, face flushed and a little out of breath.

“Be careful,” he eventually gets out a beat later, and you nod, suddenly hyperaware of the three pairs of eyes watching you.

Kouki’s especially.

“You, too,” you call out to Bakugou as he lets go and returns to the spot beside Kouki, who once again takes his gauntlet-less wrist.

“We’ll be off, then,” the old man announces, and just like that, they’re gone.

Kouki returns—alone—in record time, an inexplicable expression written on his face. You debate whether or not to ask him how things are at Bakugou’s location, ultimately deciding against it when the man impatiently beckons you to move. You promptly approach and hold onto him just as the twins adjust their portkeys without much complaint, all the while trying to ignore the churning sensation at the pit of your stomach.

The borderline nauseating feeling doesn’t get any better as you get whisked away from Bakugou’s apartment unit in a matter of seconds, suddenly finding yourself sat as you emerge in what you think is an SUV—judging by the size of its interior. You squirm in your seat—too caught up in the discomfort of being squished between Kouki and Omiru in the back—to notice it.

But then you look up, and when you do, the churning from earlier stops and your stomach drops entirely.

From where he’s conveniently plastered in the driver’s seat, Masaki turns to fully face you, smiling.

Or at least you think he is, based solely on the upturn of his lips.

Because hiding his gaze is what seems to be hardened, high-tech goggles.

Goggles that completely block your view of his eyes.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You vaguely register Masaki thanking Kouki for bringing the three of you to him, and you think Kouki must’ve teleported away judging from the faint swell in wiggle room at your sides. But you couldn’t recall when that was exactly, and this very thought sends another shot of panic through you, the taste of bile now blooming in your throat.

You know what you have to do.

Clenching your eyes closed, you center your attention on the primary emotion you’re feeling—fear, unmistakable fear—and pull.

Instantly, you feel your facial muscles relax, cautious enough to let the change appear slowly—both in your face and in your frame.

The last thing you need is to inadvertently confirm any suspicion about your quirk.

Even if it means using a huge chunk of today’s reservoir on yourself.

Taking a deep breath, you let your eyes flutter open, and you’re once again met with the sight of Masaki, whose torso is now turned towards you.

Shit.

You scramble for something to say.

“I-isn’t it a bit too early?” you ask, averting your gaze toward the car window. “Is the Prime Minister even around at this hour?”

You don’t get to see Masaki’s reaction to your sudden question—you wouldn’t be able to study his eyes anyway—but you hear him shuffle in his seat, turning back to face forward. “Yes, he’s expecting a visitor.”

A million questions come up in your head—how he even knows that information is one of them—but what you end up asking is: “How about the rest?”

That must’ve been the right query to ask, because Masaki hums in what you think is approval. “People will be there, Y/N. When the Prime Minister’s around, most of the employees are expected to be present.”

You guess that makes sense.

You don’t say anything else after that, opting to peer at Masaki through the rearview mirror instead. To your surprise, he shifts his head towards the very same mirror, and you’re almost sure he’s looking straight back at you.

He smiles again. This time, a little too knowingly.

“Is there something—” he starts, before trailing off and pointing to his eyepiece. “Oh, this?”

You bristle. Still, you feign ignorance. “Huh?”

“You seem to have been staring at my glasses.”

You let your brows furrow, as if in confusion. “I…don’t think I was?”

“Cut the crap, Y/N,” Omiru suddenly spits at you from the side, and you startle.

“What the—”

“Now, now, Omiru,” scolds Masaki with that placating tone of his. “Y/N might’ve been lying to us but we still have a mission to finish.”

You blanch. “Lying?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” comes the leader’s quiet response, who’s watching the scene unfold behind him through the mirror. “It’s a pity our surveillance men took so long to notice, how you had us acting strangely, that day we met.”

Masaki cocks his head to the side, before: “Your quirk works via eye contact, doesn’t it?”

You stiffen.

“Thought so,” he concludes, and you bite back the urge to close your eyes in defeat. It’s too early to give up.

“Don’t worry, though,” he adds on after a beat, finally bringing the engine to life. “Nothing will happen as long as you cooperate and use luck when I tell you to.”

…Luck.

Did he just say luck?

Your eyes must’ve widened a bit at what he just said, because he continues. “Ah, Bakugou?” he asks, and suddenly you’re hit with the guilt of not thinking about the pro-hero.

Especially when he says the next thing.

“Like I said,” Masaki drawls, “As long as you cooperate, no one gets harmed.”

A pause.

“Even him.”

Your question gets answered as soon as you stop at the guard house.

Masaki’s quick to take off the goggles before rolling down his window, greeting the primary security guard with such innocence you definitely couldn’t have guessed he was on his way to an assassination if you based on just the encounter alone.

The guard flashes him an easy grin as he greets back, before bringing the walkie-talkie that’s velcroed on his shoulder closer to his mouth. “Masaki Kento of the Korean Consulate, heading towards Building C. I repeat, Masaki Kento to Building C.”

A bunch of static emanates from the device, immediately followed by a robotic voice. “Copy that. Let him in.”

At that, Masaki salutes him a thanks, which the guard returns fervently. You don’t even get to catch a glimpse of the former’s eyes before he’s got the window up and the eyepiece swiftly back on his face.

“Let me guess,” you pipe up as Masaki rounds a curb and drives more slowly as you enter the grounds, “You’re a consul and these two are your domestic bodyguards.”

“Yes,” Masaki readily confirms, “That is correct.”

That explains why he’s almost never present in the headquarters.

“Huh,” is the only thing you can muster, focus now trained on any human that you pass by.

The less they are in number, the better—is what Bakugou said. So far, most if not all of them are decked out in attire guards would normally wear, which you think isn’t much of an unfamiliar sight in this estate.

Eventually, you arrive at the front of what you believe is Building C, stepping out of the vehicle with your handbag in tow a moment later, smoothing the crinkled lines of your slacks. You pretend not to pay attention as an again bare-faced Masaki hands over the keys to the valet, who is off with the vehicle in seconds to what he said was the multi-story car park.

You don’t dare utter a word as you trail behind the man carrying a bulky briefcase you’re positive contains nothing but bombs, with the twins walking in step behind you. You keep your eyes fixed on the staircase as you do, painfully aware of how your nerves are coming back alive, and this time, somewhat more fiercely than before.

You know better than to waste another ounce of your quirk on yourself, though.

And so with ragged breath, you trudge on with anxiety creeping back up your spine, up until you’re met with another guard at the entrance, who makes a quick work of identifying the four of you. You’re introduced as Masaki’s new personal assistant, while the others just reiterate their established titles. The guard then grants you entry, but not before instructing you to register your name at the reception desk.

Masaki thanks the man on your behalf, and then finally—you enter.

The second that you do, though, you can tell something’s wrong.

For one, right behind the desk that you were ordered to approach, was nobody. Not one receptionist.

Nor are there janitors, guests, employees, or anyone that could possibly be in the Prime Minister’s Office at this hour.

Masaki, who just put on the goggles again, must have thought the same thing, because you catch him physically tensing, like this wasn’t part of the plan.

You’re about to ask him—genuinely—why the place seems to be deserted, when it happens.

Something fast lurches from the shadows in your peripheral vision, and you stumble back just in time to see Hiroto slammed to the ground by no other than Kirishima.

The male twin lets out a yelp in pain as the hardened hero wrestles him in his grip, all at the same time as a long string of tape suddenly fills your vision. You look up, and sure enough, there’s Sero swinging right into Omiru foot first, hitting the woman square in the jaw. She staggers violently backward, right into you—but the collision doesn’t happen, because a hand grabs your wrist out of nowhere and you’re pulled to the side.

A tidal wave of relief washes over you as you let yourself get forcefully dragged, but it’s instantly replaced with terror when you look up to see Masaki’s backside instead. From a distance, you hear Kirishima’s voice call out your name, and it snaps you out of your fear-driven trance. Renewed with unbridled strength, you put as much of your weight as you can on your soles and try to wrangle your hand out of his grip, but it’s too strong.

Masaki manages to haul you toward the end of the hallway, throwing you right into an elevator and punching the close button before you can pick yourself back up on your feet. You barely see him pressing the top-most floor before he turns around and grabs you by the shoulders, pinning you hard against the wall.

“You told them about us, didn’t you,” he seethes, manic, but you don’t dare say anything. At your silence, he lifts you a breadth’s hair away from the surface only to slam you back against it. You can’t help it—this time, you cry, a sharp pain sent straight to your back.

“Answer me,” he demands, and you’re just about to knee him in the balls when the elevator dings. You wait for Masaki to get distracted and look away so you can deliver the blow, but it doesn’t happen. His gaze seemingly remains fixed on yours even as he lugs the two of you out of the box, grip unrelenting as he approaches the nearest fire alarm device, smashing the glass before pulling down the lever.

Almost instantaneously, tens of alarms ring out not just on your floor but on the ones below you, and you can only watch in horror as the numbers on top of the elevators freeze.

“Kouki,” Masaki rasps into his earpiece, his two hands busy holding you at arm’s length. “Kouki, do you copy?”

You growl, a surge of indignation washing over your entire body at him blatantly ignoring you. You extend your leg from underneath in an attempt to trip and then pin him down, but he takes notice in the nick of time and staves off your attack.

“Kouki,” he tries again, even as you manage to ram a punch into his stomach, “Answer me!”

You grit your teeth, feeling your limbs quaking as you fight to fend off his grip. Still, your mind wanders as to why he’s calling Kouki now, of all times.

What, so he can teleport him and the twins out of here?

But then he speaks again, and you see crimson red.

“Kouki, kill him now!”

Your body moves before your brain can think—you throw yourself onto Masaki and grab him by the neck. He stumbles backward until he collapses and his back hits the floor, and you take that as an opportunity to immediately straddle him, increasing the pressure on your chokehold. He splutters for a bit, arms flailing and scratching at you, but before you can even think about trying to rip off his eyepiece and potentially taking the upper hand—at least until Kirishima and the rest arrive—he rolls over and has got you pinned under his weight in seconds. He pulls the same move and roughly wraps his hands around your neck, instantly cutting off the air to your lungs. You wheeze, and yet you still struggle even as you feel the last bits of oxygen die out.

He grins at you, and one look at the man’s face tells you he’s gone mad. “You’re on the wrong side of history, Y/N.”

Great, you think to yourself. Those can’t be the last fucking words you hear before you die.

You make one last attempt at seizing his wrist off of you, but—just like many other things in the past five minutes—that doesn’t get to happen, because something flashes in the corner of your eye—so quickly you think you must’ve imagined it. You squint, and in hindsight maybe you shouldn’t have, because, in the second that you do, Masaki is kicked off of your body and slammed straight into the far wall.

Shellshocked, you crawl backward with your forearms as fast as you can, not knowing what the fuck just happened.

But that’s when you see him.

You can only watch in disbelief as Bakugou propels himself across the room in a matter of a millisecond, towering over Masaki’s body instantaneously. “Get back!” Bakugou shouts, and it takes you a beat to realize that he’s talking to you.

You didn’t need to be told twice.

With the little, remaining strength you can muster, you manage to stand back up and hobble towards the corner of the room, farthest from where the two are currently engaging in a fistfight.

It doesn’t take long for you to realize that Masaki’s holding up better than you expected him to, and the very same realization must’ve dawned on Bakugou, because the pro-hero swiftly switches gears and starts detonating small explosions toward the man’s direction.

But then the weirdest thing happens.

Instead of being hit by Bakugou’s blasts, Masaki absorbs them—right where the combustions meet his body—

And then, in the blink of an eye, releases it—almost twice in size—straight into Bakugou.

You hear the pro-hero curse just as he barely manages to dodge the hit. The discharge reaches the wall, leaving scorched marks and massive craters on the surface.

This is bad.

And you don’t even have to look at Bakugou to know that.

Still, the pro-hero presses on, and you stand there—restless—as the fight resumes in front of you. Bakugou’s stopped using his quirk to attack altogether, only using it to expertly maneuver himself in the air. Masaki’s fending off the strikes well enough, even landing a few hits here and there. You try to hold eye contact with him—but it’s no use. He’s still wearing the goggles, and you’ve studied them long enough this morning to be fairly sure that it’ll take more than just a perfect kick to the head to have it taken off.

That’s when it dawns on you.

You can’t manipulate Masaki. That’s for sure.

But you can manipulate Bakugou, who—based on what you can see—is becoming more and more frantic by the minute.

No fucking time to hesitate.

“Bakugou!” you shout, and the man doesn’t even glance in your direction, only shouting back: “What?!”

“Look at me!” you yell, pupils darting in record speed as you follow Bakugou’s volatile line of vision. You weren’t about to miss him when he does.

He doesn’t question your request, but he doesn’t immediately look at you either, too wrapped up in hitting Masaki and not getting hit back.

But then Masaki’s suddenly got him pinned against the wall across you, and you find yourself immediately face to face with him. You scream, “Now!”

Exactly right on cue, Bakugou’s gaze drifts from Masaki’s face to yours, and when you lock eyes, you pull.

Manic adrenaline to laser-sharp acuity.

Acuity that he’s always had since you met him in high school.

As hard as you fucking can—and with all that you have left—you pull.

And just like that, Bakugou’s entire countenance changes. You can only watch as the metaphorical gears in his head seem to come alive and shift—just as he throws Masaki off of him with unmatched force.

But then he does the unimaginable.

He starts bombarding the man with explosions—one blast after another, not allowing him the chance to even sit up and shield himself—and you stare in outright shock as Masaki’s body glows redder and redder.

Just as you think Bakugou’s completely lost his mind with the series of attacks, he launches himself from the wall and dives into Masaki, grabbing the man’s arm, tugging him to the nearest door with one hand and yanking the slab of wood open with the other.

And only as Bakugou throws Masaki into what you think is a janitor’s closet and locks the door behind him does it hit you like a ton of bricks.

“Come on!” Bakugo shouts at you as he presses his entire weight against the door—the door that Masaki’s desperately trying to get through. “Help me lock him in!”

You look around the room for something you can use, your eyes immediately landing on a chair and a moderately-heavy-looking desk. You waste no time grabbing the two pieces of furniture and hauling them toward Bakugou as fast as you can. Taking the chair first, you tilt it by the backrest and lodge it underneath the doorknob until it’s secure enough. You then hurriedly drag the desk to the other side and slide it in front of the door, just as Bakugou propels himself upward and out of the way.

You don’t get to do anything else before Bakugou snatches you by your waist and boosts the two of you toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, smashing against them shoulder-first. You hold onto him for dear life, wincing at the impact even though Bakugou took most of it.

And you’re glad you did everything the way you just did—because not even a second later, the explosion finally goes off—an eruption so massive that you’re both thrown forward from the sheer magnitude alone, the sound of shattering windows and crumbling walls booming in the background. Bakugou loses his balance for a second and you shriek, but he manages to get back into thrusting you into the air with his detonations, carrying you securely in his arms until you reach the ground, gently letting go of you when you do.

The moment your toes touch the concrete floor, though, you’re quick to jump on your feet and hobble away from him.

“Hey—”

Quickly, you tell yourself as you feel the tell-tale pinpricks of tears at the corners of your eyes. Before it’s too late.

But you don’t get to go far enough because Bakugou grabs your wrist, spinning you to look at him. “The fuck do you think you’re go—”

He cuts himself off, the scowl that was just carved on his features instantly falling when he sees your face. “Are you—crying?”

“N-no,” you choke out, although you know it’s no use denying it. You’re already feeling the all-too-familiar closing-in sensation that comes with you overextending yourself.

“Yes, you are, dumbass,” Bakugou retorts, before bringing up his other hand to lightly touch your cheek. “Tell me, what’s wrong?”

At the contact, you clench your eyes closed, fighting down the urge to whimper at the steadily increasing pace at which your heart is irregularly racing.

There’s no doubt about it.

It’s now flooding you—the terror that you’ve secretly been tamping down with your own quirk this entire mission—but especially today.

“Fuck—” you warble, and now you’re sure.

You’re having an anxiety attack.

It all happens in a blur—your brain too muddled with palpable fear to keep track of everything around you—but you vaguely register Bakugou wrapping his arms around you and rubbing soothing circles on your back, as he tried to guide your erratic breathing with his.

You remember shaking violently in his hold, gasping for air and barely managing to will yourself to breathe normally as an undercurrent of dizziness coursed through your veins.

You recall sweating bullets but being cold to the touch, and Bakugou ripping out one of his sleeves to use to wipe away your perspiration. It didn’t really help.

And you don’t know how much time passes with you fighting the nausea on top of everything, even as you heard the distant sound of police sirens, but it does—it somehow does—eventually and strangely finding yourself carried away home.

Home to Bakugou’s.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

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[bunny-jpeg]

sinful sentences (three)

lance stroll - "no touching right now. that comes later."

tags: smut/pwp, canadian winters, keeping warm, teasing, broken heater/power outage, slow & sensual, dirty talk, sex in the dark, flat iron position/modified doggy style

a/n: i love you montrealllll, i love youuuuuu!!! <3333

the sinful sentences catalogue

montreal, quebec, canada. a beautiful city in a beautiful part of the world. there was a lot to do and the perk of being in it with lance meant you saw the city through the eyes of someone who lived there.

but that almost meant seeing the less glamourized side of the city. the traffic, the construction, and that it was so cold. you thought you were used to cold, but thanks to the water that surrounded the island on montreal. everything was left teeth chattering cold.

and after another blanket of snow coated the city, the chill had gone into your bones and when you stumbled back into the rented apartment for the month, you wanted nothing more than to strip of your clothes, turn up the heat and get under the covers with lance.

but when you tried to turn a light switch on. nothing lit up.

online was a flurry about a power outage caused by the high winds that ripped through the city. multiple neighbourhoods were experiencing black-outs. and on a night like tonight, it was the worst time to be without power.

you and lance got to work in the dark of the apartment. you used your phone flashlights to find emergency candles, and extra blankets. everything was put into the bedroom and you stripped out of your clothes. you used the sweaters and hoodies you packed for the trip to add to the blanket fort you two had created until the power came back on.

lance did like the sight of you in the near dark trying to take out your contacts in nothing but his aston martin sweatshirt, thick black socks (also his), and underwear (which was yours). you got spooked when you turned around and say the outline of him in the door way.

"lance!" you shouted.

"sorry, babe." he chuckled as he got further into the washroom. he winced when you shined the flashlight in his eyes, "no need for the interrogation spotlight." he wrapped his arms around you. he was a bit more accustomed to the montreal cold, but still had heavy sweatpants and a shirt on while out of the nest of blankets. he wrapped his arms around your waist.

he leaned in to kiss you and you smiled up against him. he held onto you a little tighter before you turned off the flashlight and lance guided you back to the bed. clothes were taken off and you bought sought refuge under the covers. you were curled up in one another. naked. not even a thin pair of underwear could separate you two.

"contact like this is good to keep warm." he said. the wind howled outside, it kicked up the snow and pushed it through the city. you were happy you didn't have to near ice pelts against your face as you tried to get from place to place. he rubbed himself up against you and his breathing got a little heavier. he couldn't help but get a little excited. even in the dark without the visualizes of your body, he could still get a good picture with his hands trailing up and down your sides. from your shoulders, across your stomach and to your thigh. he placed a large hand on the side of your right thigh and he smiled to himself in the dark.

you two felt like you were in your own little world. just you two. in the dead darkness of a cold montreal night. he pressed further into you and you reached for him. your hands on his toned chest.

he said to you quietly, "no touching right now. that comes later." he pressed another kiss against you. his lips touched yours, his hands continued to roam your body, "no idea what you do to me. you feel amazing my dear." his breathing grew as he felt the arousal grow in his body. under the covers, the heat only grew.

there was a slight racing in your heart as lance continued to feel you up. you let out a small moan when his pointer and middle finger traced across your slit. it made you nearly jump and he pressed against you further with his shoulder, his weight on top of you.

"fuck, baby. all feels so good." his breathing was heavy pants. both of you were definitely protected from the hardness of the night's cold. especially when lance started to nudge his cock up against your hip. making its presence known, "got me all riled up tonight. how could i not? you always look so good, that sweater i bought you. those jeans that made your ass look amazing." his words were crass, but it excited you. you knew that it made your stomach twist in wanting knots.

"let me touch you." you exhaled deeply.

"aw, should i let you have some fun too? i bet you'd love that." he said somewhat teasing. it made you shudder and your breath hitch for a moment before you reached for him and pulled him in by the shoulders into a heated kiss. he melted against you and continued to feel you up. you two kissed for a while, taking small breaks to breathe before you went back to kissing under the covers.

your bodies fit perfectly together as the warmth of want coursed through both of you. eventually the sensual petting wasn't enough for you two. under the cover of night, you ended up on your stomach with lance behind you. you propped yourself up on your elbows and spread your legs. he laid up right against you, had enough access to press his cock right up against your needy slit.

he buried his nose in your hair and took in the warm scent as he held onto your middle for a moment. he grinded up against you, his hard cock nudged against your soft lower back as he kissed behind your ear. you moaned, your nipples grew hard from the sensation, it left you with goosebumps before he sank into you lovingly.

under the covers, your warm bodies together as your lover moved against you. you moaned and helped onto the white sheets under your bare chest. it felt a bit weird having a fair bit of lance's weight on top of you, but as he worked his cock slowly into you. it felt good, the pleasure curled itself inside of you as he moved.

in the darkness of a rented apartment for the time you'd be in the city during a windstorm that only made the snow worse. the city blanketed in white while the two of you made love. this was his home, even though he had been away from it for a good amount of time. you felt warmed having it shared with you, being so close to lance in that moment.

the bed creaked a little but lance maintained a slow, steady pace. the kind of pace that left you gasping. you learned a long time ago that sex wasn't a race to a finish, but rather an erotic exploration of each other's bodies. and with lance pinned up against you, you were becoming quite familiar with the shape of him.

he kissed the back of your neck and shoulder, he smiled against your warmed skin. he held you tightly as he moved against you. the breathing between you two was heavy as you two shuffled under the layers of blankets. he asked cheekily, "warm?"

"hot." you moaned in response as the pleasure continued to move through you. the heat was intense, that the sexual gratification bloomed into heavy heat that settled on your skin. it was only fueled by the kisses of your lover across your neck. how he hold you, how he made loved to you.

"good." he replied, "you feel amazing. every time it catches me off guard." he chuckled lowly and placed another kiss on your skin. he took in the scent of you, sweaty and warm, but the smell of your body wash cut through. he closed his eyes a little, couldn't see much in the dark, and let his other sense guide his movements, "i love you."

"and i love you." you replied as you pressed your cheek against the pillow and looked out into the dark room for a moment as the edge of the blanket was below your eye line so you could breath. your eyes closed too, no use in such a dark room. your short painted nailed held onto the pillows under your head while he continued to work your body. bring pleasure to the forefront of your mind with heavy yet slow movements of his hips.

it made your toes curl with a certain want as the bed continued to creak. you panted a little heavier against the bed and your noises became a little higher as pleasure zapped at your brain.

"this is better than any other time i could think of." he said softly, "better than that pool in italy or the private beach in australia. or even that hotel room in france where you tied that ribbon around your throat like a present. letting me up-wrap you." his voice was heavy with lust and it curled at a certain part of your brain that made your core wet. he could remember almost every time you made love, even the quick moments in breaks in your schedule.

the slow, long intimate moments together and the quick, firecrackers of euphoria. both made lance fall more in love with you. his kisses continued as he felt the pleasure started to mount in him. the same with you, it was coursed through your blood thanks to the quickening of your pulse. you moaned softly into the covers as he continued to move against you. the feeling was intense and it made you hungry for more.

you yearned for your lover. lance stroll was the type of lover that made you feel a certain excitement in your soul. you held on tighter, letting him move faster. he swore in quebecios french and gave you another kiss closer to your pulse point as he rocked against you.

"lance." you said softly, "i think you've ruined me for anyone else."

he chuckled softly and kissed you again, and then again, "good, because you've done the same for me. and i honestly wouldn't have it any other way. not when i can have you." he said with utter affection which only made the arousal so much stronger.

the pleasure built further up and you two felt it. it was keeping you warm. and with lance's heavy breathing in your ear, you held on tightly and eventually you reached you peak of climax. you moaned his name and tensed up, you felt it all come crumbling down on you as your lover continued to work your body. the movements became faster as you came, you near bit the pillows at the intense feeling of it all.

"that's it, that's it." he purred, "fuck, baby. you feel so good. so fucking good for me, eh? all pretty for me during the day and letting me fuck you at night. i love you." he then groaned before he finished inside of you. he slowed to a stop and rested most of his weight against you while he panted heavily against your back, "shit."

you both laid there in a hot mess, even had to push the covers further down to allow a little air to breathe. but despite the lack of power in the apartment, you were both very warm as was the bedroom you were sharing. as you both came down from your euphoric highs, you both felt a sense of amazement in each other's company. you loved one another, and lance kissed you on the forehead with a tender affection that only made you lean closer to him. capturing all his warmth and love.

come morning the power had returned and plows got the snow off the roads and sidewalks. it was like the storm never happened, but as you had breakfast together, you could feel a subtle ache between your legs. <3

[darlingdaisyfarm]

｡°✩ for academic purposes only .ᐟ.ᐟ

Every month Ford experiences the same cycle: scientific curiosity, self-restraint and complete obliteration. He should’ve known better

tags: nsfw, Ford Pines aka uterus researcher, established relationship, nerdy Ford, periods, cycle, journaling, mentions of sex, period sex, breeding kink if u squint, Ford's notes

i would like to personally thank the female reproductive system bc this is the only reason this fic exists

JOURNAL ENTRY — CYCLE ANALYSIS BY DR. STANFORD F. PINES, PH.D. (MULTIPLE FIELDS), AUTHOR OF JOURNALS 1, 2 AND 3, MAN OF SCIENCE, CURRENTLY IN AN INCREDIBLY GRATIFYING AND SCIENTIFICALLY ENLIGHTENING RELATIONSHIP.

SUBJECT: (your name), hereafter referred to as my darling, my sweetheart, my love, my starlight (edit later, leave for now), follows a standard 28-day cycle, but their body’s response to each stage is something i cannot help but study with rapt fascination

STUDY FOCUS: menstrual cycle behavioural & physiological analysis (personal, HIGHLY CONFIDENTIAL!!!)

OBSERVATIONAL PERIOD: (start date - present)

FOR SCIENCE & DEFINITELY NOT BECAUSE I’M OBSESSED

INTRODUCTION:

oh, my starlight, if you ever find this... i am a dead man. but in the interest of science (and, let’s be honest, my own hopeless fascination with you), i must document this properly. perhaps i should hide it somewhere impenetrable, but then again, i do enjoy re-reading my notes and recalling particularly... captivating instances. must deliberate further.

the goal of this entry? to analyse, in the most thorough and detailed manner possible, the profound effects of your cycle, particularly your most intimate needs and behaviours!

(personal note: this is entirely scientific. definitely. well. mostly. fine, i just want to remember every last detail of you and the way you change through each phase, but can you blame me? you are the most enthralling subject i have ever studied.)

It is a truth universally acknowledged that i, Stanford Filbrick Pines, have been fortunate enough to conduct one of the most fascinating, perplexing and occasionally overwhelming studies of my entire academic career. This, of course, refers to the ongoing, deeply personal and intensively hands-on analysis of my partner's menstrual cycle and its profound effects on both their physiology and our shared... extracurricular activities.

(hands-on research is, naturally, a critical aspect of any thorough investigation. i am, above all, a diligent scientist.)

HYPOTHESIS: her cycle influences not only her physiological state but our shared activities in ways that, if charted correctly, could allow for optimal... performance calibration.

(note: i should really not phrase it like that. sounds terribly perverse. i am a scientist, not a deranged old man. though, considering my reaction to certain phases of this cycle i fear i may be both)

PHASE ONE: FOLLICULAR (DAYS 1-14, PRE-OVULATION)

The luteinizing hormone (lh) surge initiates ovulation and its effects on behaviour are undeniable.

PHYSIOLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS INCLUDE:

• Estrogen levels increase, this means brighter eyes and faster speech. Energy levels rise noticeably, leading to an increase in spontaneous affectionate behavior as hand-holding, lap-sitting, casual nudity. I am holding myself together. barely

• Playful disposition increases, resulting in (very welcome) teasing remarks, touches, and moments of flirtation.

• My sweetheart is adorable, she moves so much. Paces while talking, gestures wildly, kisses me mid-sentence before running off to do something else.

(PERSONAL NOTE: My partner's thighs. have i ever properly documented my fascination with them? i should dedicate a separate entry. but her thighs during this phase are soft and firm, strong but yielding. When she wraps them around my waist, i momentarily lose my ability to process coherent thought.)

Arousal is present but manageable. My love enjoys teasing, initiating long, drawn-out foreplay, but not rushing into things. A preference for languid, exploratory touches, lazy morning sex where she can take her time riding me while still half-asleep.

PREFERRED POSITIONS & BEHAVIORAL NOTES:

• Tends to straddle me while talking, seemingly unaware of its effects. (This is a problem, i cannot concentrate.)

• Kisses are more playful than desperate.

• Lower cervix position = deeper penetration is easier, but subject’s own preference leans toward grinding rather than thrusting.

Overall: delightful Somewhat distracting, but so attractive.

PHASE TWO: OVULATORY PHASE (DAYS 14–17, PEAK FERTILITY)

PERSONAL NOTE: Oh. Oh no. Oh yes.

I am a mere man, defenseless against these biochemical weapons of seduction.

PHYSIOLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS INCLUDE:

• touch frequency escalates, subject initiates physical contact at a staggering (and frankly overwhelming) rate, often in seemingly innocuous ways that, due to my unfortunate hypersensitivity to her presence, result in considerable mental derailment.

• spontaneous arousal occurrences, seemingly triggered by voice depth, prolonged eye contact or even minor dominance cues

• her behaviour changes entirely. she becomes insatiable. restless. demanding.

• physical responsiveness is heightened, tactile stimulation along the spine, lower abdomen or inner thighs elicits a near-instantaneous shivering reaction.

• specific positional preferences emerge:

deep, cervix-targeting angles become more desirable, despite previous sensitivities.

• my darling climbs onto my lap, straddles me, kisses me until i can no longer form coherent thoughts. (note: i have, on three separate occasions, nearly dropped whatever i was holding due to this. once, it was coffee. another time, a priceless extraterrestrial artefact. the third time, my own dignity.)

PERSONAL NOTE: i find myself gravitating toward her like a man under some primitive compulsion.

PERSONAL NOTE: she told me, quite bluntly, that she “needs to feel me ruin her“ and then proceeded to climb into my lap and grind against me until i blacked out momentarily. truly, i have never been more in love.

OBSERVABLE SIGNS OF OVULATION:

• skin luminescence enhancement (note: skin is glowing. literally. did i hallucinate that? no. confirmed under direct lighting. biologically unfair!)

• heightened blood circulation leads to noticeably rosier cheeks, increased nipple sensitivity and a subtle but consistent warmth in the lower abdominal region.

• cervix sits higher, softens significantly; vaginal walls remain in a persistent state of involuntary contraction. arousal response time is astoundingly low, mere seconds of stimulation elicit immediate lubrication. (note: nearly passed out the first time i confirmed this.)

• body appears primed for contact; she leans into touch more, presses against me absentmindedly, makes these little “ah” whimpering noises if i pull away. (note: this is devastatingly effective at reducing my cognitive function to near-zero.)

MORE BEHAVIOURAL OBSERVATIONS:

• heightened assertiveness (dear god.)

• sustained eye contact (i am sweating.)

• subconscious body language cues, what means increased proximity-seeking, enhanced hip sway while walking (i am so normal about this. so incredibly normal.)

• direct verbal cues. e.g. "Ford, come here. sit down. let me straddle you." (???????)

• tactile seeking: my darling cannot stop touching me. fingers constantly curled into my clothes, tracing my chest, sliding under my coat. at one point, she pressed her face against my neck, inhaled deeply and whined. (note: i lost the ability to speak for a full minute.)

• vocabulary exhibits a marked increase in expletives and breathier, higher-pitched intonations. (example: during an encounter last night, she gripped my wrist, dragged my hand between her legs, and in a very insistent tone, said: “Ford, please, please, i need you, i need your mouth, your fingers, fuck, do something“ )

MORE DIRECT QUOTES FROM SUBJECT:

"Ford, if you don’t fuck me right now, i am going to lose my goddamn mind."

"I need you inside me. Now. No, i said now, why are you taking notes, oh my god—“

Unintelligible noises followed by what i can only describe as a feral growl.

PERSONAL NOTE TO SELF:

• do not attempt to maintain professional detachment. it is already lost.

• i swear, my starlight could ask me to hand over my life's work in exchange for kissing her ankle and i would do it without hesitation.

Most devastatingly, she becomes particularly receptive to deeper penetration and—

(note: pause. breathe. do not combust while writing this.)

The increased cervical softening allows for an absolutely devastating depth. She can take every inch of me, every grind against her cervix without discomfort. In fact, she moans for it! Begs for it, pulls me closer, gasping into my mouth, her nails biting into my back, telling m—

(note: take a cold shower.)

Scientifically speaking, her body is in peak condition for conception... and im fully aware of this fact, because every time she tightens around me, i—

(note: for god’s sake, Stanford, edit this later.)

EXPERIMENTAL OBSERVATION: INTERCOURSE DURING OVULATION

PERSONAL NOTE: i am not a young man but good lord.

SECONDARY PERSONAL NOTE: i need to start doing cardiovascular training if this is going to continue.

By compellingly, sexual appetite during this phase escalates significantly. Vocalisations become more uninhibited, involuntary muscle contractions increase, lubrication levels heighten and orgasmic response is intensified.

additional note: psychological implications are equally profound. subject’s confidence peaks, decision-making speed increases, and overall emotional resilience is heightened.

my sweetheart looked in the mirror today and said she looks beautiful. so proud of my love!:)

TEST ENVIRONMENT: my bedroom

SUBJECT STATE: ovulatory phase, heightened sensory sensitivitу

FORD PINES STATE: near-critical (hypothesis: excessive arousal may cause cognitive collapse. further testing required.)

POSING & ANGLES ANALYSIS: 

BACK-ARCHED, HIPS LIFTED (MISSIONARY VARIANT)

• her legs wrap around my waist immediately, locking me in place. (potential psychological factor: subconscious desire for security??? note: must investigate further. once i regain coherent thought post-orgasm)

• verbal responses increase by 63%. (examples: "oh my god, oh my god, Ford—“ , “please, please, deeper—“,  ”you feel so fucking good—“ etc.)

• cervical pressure is heightened (noted increase in breathy whimpers + desperate fingernail digging into my back)

• direct quote: “Ford, oh my god, deeper, i can feel you in my stomach—” (instant system failure on my end.)

• notable reaction when wrists are pinned above her head triggers rapid pulse, dilated pupils, small, breathy "oh—oh, god—" sounds. (note: physically difficult to maintain composure. potential solution: don’t maintain composure at all.)

• deep penetration, cervix stimulation. position: legs over shoulders. mating press, I think it’s called? anyways. EFFECT: immediate physiological surrender. my darling trembles, clutches at my arms, lets out a breathless, high-pitched little whines and, frankly, i nearly black out from how tight she gets. (note: jesus Ford.)

FACESITTING (I am a ruined man.)

• her hands in my hair, breathy little moans every time my tongue moves. (note: muscle control significantly reduced. fascinating!!)

• grip on my hair tightens when i lap at her clit. (involuntary response: bucking forward. possibly subconscious attempt at deeper pressure?)

• when i grab her waist and press her down harder, she makes this high and loud moan. (note: if i were a weaker man, i would be dead now)

STRADDLING, HIPS ROLLED FORWARD (COWGIRL VARIANT)

• optimal clitoral stimulation (highly enjoyable for both parties)

• direct quote: “Just—just let me use you, okay?”

ON HER SIDE, LEG HOOKED OVER MY SHOULDER 

• deep angle, excessive wetness and overwhelming intimacy

• one of our favourite 

• direct quote: “mmh, feels so good like this—so full.” (i nearly perished.)

BACKSHOT POSITION (EXTENDED DEEP-PENETRATION STUDY):

• initial hypothesis: deeper angle = greater cervical stimulation = heightened pleasure response

• confirmed within seconds. (note: DEAR GOD)

• subject reaction was immediate, sharp gasp upon first thrust. “f—fuck, Ford—ahh, god, right there—” (approx. 5 seconds in.)

“harder—please, please, deeper—“ (approx. 10 seconds in.)

loss of verbal coherence entirely (approx. 20 seconds in.)

• secondary observation: gripping her hips tighter makes her whimper. lifting her slightly higher makes her sob. both are important scientific findings!!

CERVICAL & WOMB-BASED RESPONSES:

• during ovulation, cervix sits higher and softens.

hypothesis: so subject can take deeper penetration with heightened pleasure rather than discomfort!

• confirmed within minutes. (note: will require many, many additional tests.)

• increased suction effect!! vaginal walls clench rhythmically, pulling me deeper. (note: brain ceased function entirely.)

• post-orgasm aftershocks. body remains hypersensitive, resulting in continued involuntary clenching even after climax

ADDITIONAL PHENOMENA:

• reduced patience for direct verbal requests for “breeding,” “filling,” “stuffing,” and other absolutely ruinous terminology.

• noteworthy psychological change. my darling displays an urgent need for full mating contact, requesting (or rather, insisting) that i “stay inside her” for extended periods following climax.

• direct cervical stimulation leads to involuntary whimpering, eye rolling, toe-curling and full-body tremors.

• personal weakness: gasping "right there, right there, right there" when i find the precise angle.

• frequent biting. of me. everywhere. lip marks on my neck, my lips, collarbone. teeth sinking into my shoulder while she’s clenching around me. (i am barely holding myself together.)

• if whispered praise is added (e.g., "you’re so good for me, sweetheart. taking me so perfectly."), subject exhibits full-body shudder and involuntary clenching.

DAY 15. ovulatory window confirmed. direct quote: “Ford, darling, put a baby in me.”........

oh. oh no. at that moment, i momentarily lost all ability to form rational thought. my cognitive processes flatlined. my only active function was a reaction i cannot, in good conscience, document further.

DIRECT RESPONSE (APPROXIMATE, AS MEMORY WAS COMPROMISED): incoherent groan and desperate, feral sort of growl.

PSYCHOLOGICAL IMPACT AFTER INTIMATE INTERCOURSE

• my sweetheart exhibits increased need for physical closeness, wrapping arms around me, nuzzling against my chest, making small, satisfied sounds

• ..... notably, i appear to be suffering the same symptoms

CLIMAX ANALYSIS (Stanford its 4 am, go to slee-)

• observable full-body tremors. internal muscular spasms. impossible to quantify pleasure levels. scale is inadequate.

• immediate cognitive dysfunction:

post-ejaculation speech delay (~12 seconds).

• loss of motor function (i collapse.)

• mild dissociation... ("did that happen in real life or was that an interdimensional hallucination?")

my partner's response: laughter and lots of kisses to my jaw and cheeks

PHASE THREE: LUTEAL PHASE (DAYS 17–28, PRE MENSTRUAL)

my darling gets so sensitive, becomes more prone to snuggling, less prone to teasing. libido fluctuates, but when it spikes, it is sudden and intense.

PERSONAL NOTE: there is nothing more arousing than her needy little whines when she pulls my hands to her chest and begs me to touch her...

NOTABLE BEHAVIOURAL PATTERNS:

• my love's body craves touch, warmth and closeness. she nuzzles into me, sighs when i wrap my arms around her. she likes to lay against my chest, my hand on her stomach, whispering soft praises

• partner exhibits heightened emotional sensitivity, cravings for both physical closeness and specific foods (namely chocolate, pickles, and, perplexingly, peanut butter straight from the jar.)

PERSONAL NOTE: she wrapped herself around me like a koala for two hours yesterday. i had work to do. i did none of it! none!

• sexual behaviour, as mentioned earlier, changes too. desire remains, but preference for gentler stimulation, extended foreplay, full-body contact. intimacy rather than urgency

• preference for slow, deep sex love making. (lengthy sessions. multiple orgasms. excessive praise.) strong desire for full-body contact. (chest to chest, fingers tangled, whispered affirmations.)

• occasional bursts of frustration where she demands to be "fucked properly" (????)

PROGESTERONE RISES, INCLUDING:

• metabolic increase when subject’s caloric intake rises; a preference for carbohydrate-dense, sodium-rich foods emerges, possibly due to fluctuating serotonin levels! (personal note: adorable little thing)

PET NAMES INTRODUCED DURING THIS PERIOD:

“sweetheart” (first observed: day 19, after she clung to my arm for 45 minutes and refused to let go while I was attempting to type.)

“honey” (first observed: day 22, when she started nesting in my sweater like a small irritated woodland creature)

“my love” (first observed: day 25, whispered against her hair while she buried herself under the covers and only emerged when I bribed her with hot chocolate)

"my poor, sweet, overdramatic thing" (day 26, when she claimed she was “literally dying” because I made her get out of bed for two minutes)

MORE OBSERVATIONS:

• subject requires constant touch, if no direct contact is made, pouting will occur.

• breasts become unbearably sensitive. (this has led to certain.... incidents. in which i was scolded for touching when i was explicitly given permission. this is unfair!)

PREFERRED POSITIONS & BEHAVIOURAL NOTES:

• will climb onto me at any given opportunity. (even while i am working.)

• slow, deep wnd intimate contact. heavy emphasis on cervical stimulation, warmth, closeness.

• soft praise required. frequent affirmations, reassurances. (she is particularly receptive to hearing how “beautiful” she is. which is, frankly, an objective truth.)

PERSONAL NOTE: her emotional state during this time, I ADORE IT. my darling needs comfort, touch and reassurance, and, well, i am only human. if she asks me to hold her, i will. if she asks me to lay on top of her and just be warm, i will. if she tells me she wants to feel full, wants to feel every inch of me keeping her safe wants me to tell her how much she is loved... well.

SECONDARY PERSONAL NOTE: she really, really likes when i call her “smart girl”

PERSONAL NOTE: i have no complaints. zero. none. absolutely none :)

MENSTRUAL PHASE (DAYS 1–5, ACTIVE BLEEDING)

initially, i had hypothesized that sexual activity during this phase would be uncomfortable or at the very least, unappealing to the subject. i was incorrect.

shedding of the endometrial lining initiates vascular dilation, heightened temperature and uterine contractions.

PRIMARY OBSERVATIONS INCLUDE:

• temperature regulation is disrupted, subject experiences fluctuations between feverish warmth and sudden chills. skin remains notably softer during this phase

• muscular fatigue, increased joint tension, my darling often seeks massage therapy, sustained compression (weighted blankets, my own body weight), and slow movement assistance.

• experiences waves of pain and discomfort, interspersed with unexpected surges of desire.

• blood viscosity is fascinating!!!!! color shifts from bright red (early days) to a deeper hue with occasional clotting (mid-phase). i have documented firsthand how the consistency changes during... se- various activities.

My sweetheart currently suffering the full physiological impact of uterine lining detachment, fluctuating between lethargy, irritability and an insatiable craving for attention, pressure, and snacks.

SCIENTIST’S DUTIES DURING THIS TIME:

• food preparation (nutrient-rich, iron-replenishing meals)

• pressure application (via full-body weight or strategic abdominal massages)

• endless patience (tested frequently)

EXPERIMENTAL CULINARY TRIALS

Partners nutritional intake fluctuates wildly during this phase. one moment, she craves salt; the next, sugar. she has, at times, demanded both simultaneously (a truly confounding biological mystery).

DAY 2 OF MENSTRUATION. my partner appeared lethargic, burrowed into blankets, making small, distressed noises whenever she moved

direct quote: “Ford, if i don’t get mac & cheese in the next ten minutes, i will die.”

counterargument: “you literally just ate an entire chocolate bar, honey”

Partner’s rebuttal: long, drawn-out groan followed by burrowing deeper and a tragic little sigh of suffering.

conclusion: i made the mac & cheese. i am weak

PERSONAL NOTE: my darling told me, quite shamelessly, that orgasms help her cramps. i told her, quite honestly, that i would be happy to conduct further research in this area ;)

DIRECT QUOTES FROM SUBJECT:

“Ford, it helps the cramps, please, this is literally medical.”

“Mmm, you’re so warm. No! don’t move, just stay inside me like that.”

SECONDARY PERSONAL NOTE: the psychological aspect of this is fascinating! the hormonal interplay of pain relief, emotional vulnerability, and deep, physical intimacy is something i should, theoretically, analyse further.

QUATERNARY PERSONAL NOTE: if i am not careful, i am going to end up proposing to this person during a study session.

of course reblogs/comments are always highly appreciated, but yeah, no pressure

[crowsofdarkness]

Vaz Prizrak: Chapter One

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, violence, mentions of losing a pregnancy, thoughts of taking one's life, an attempt to take one's life. I will give another warning when that chapter is posted.

Summary: Bucky and Reader have been in their own solace while in Wakanda for years. They were finally happy to create the life they wanted and deserved. That was until a new foe came along to dust it all away.

Authors Note: This takes place during Infinity War and Endgame! If you haven't yet, please read Soldat and Dorogaya beforehand.

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole @j23r23 @baw1066 @capswife

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist | Vaz Prizrak Masterlist

The sounds of birds chirping outside our home and the warmth of the body next to me was what slowly raised me out of my slumber. Groaning, I buried my face deeper into the bare chest but felt it vibrate in laughter. 

“We can’t stay in bed all day again, doll.” Bucky’s tired voice breathed in my ear. 

“I’m tired,” I whined, gripping him tighter. 

Bucky laughed again before brushing his lips over my forehead. “The goats need to eat.” 

Reluctantly I let him rise out of bed and marveled at the way the muscles moved in his back as he slowly rose. His bones clicked into place when he stood to his feet and with his arm, he threw on a shirt. 

I peaked over to the nub of his left arm while he covered it with a sling and my heart dropped, knowing how he truly felt about it. He was fine with it in the beginning, taking awhile to get used to only having one arm, but now two years later I knew that it was bothering him. Bucky felt like he couldn’t do what he used to be able to do and it would aggravate him. 

Never once did I complain about it, he knew exactly how to please me even with one hand. 

“Are you going to stare at my ass all morning or are you going to get out of bed?” Bucky joked while turning to face me. 

“But I’m cold,” I giggled while showing him my naked form underneath the sheets.

His eyes darkened with lust and I knew I was seconds away from having him back in bed with me. 

Suddenly I sat up in bed with a start, clutching the sheets closer to my bare body. I was filled with a sudden urge to fight, something that wasn't coming from Bucky. It was a feeling that I hadn’t felt in years and I was afraid to find out why I was feeling like this. 

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked. 

“I have this weird feeling,” I admitted. 

Bucky sat on the edge of the bed next to me and moved the hair out of my face. 

“About what?” 

“I don’t know. Something’s going to happen soon but I don’t know what.” 

Our lips met in a quick kiss before Bucky pulled me to my feet out of bed. 

“No use dwelling in it, doll. Let’s feed the goats then talk a walk,” Bucky suggested. 

Reluctantly, I nodded with a sigh. I knew he was right. I couldn’t dwell on this feeling when I didn’t even know if it was truly something to worry about. 

While Bucky stepped outside, I dared a quick glance over to the burner cell phone that rested on our table. It hadn’t made one noise in the two years that it laid on that exact spot. There was only one number programmed in it and before I could stop myself, I sent a quick message to that number. 

Checking in on you and if everything is alright. Can’t shake the feeling that something is coming. 

“Doll?” Bucky called from outside. 

“Coming!” I yelled, tossing the phone onto the bed. 

I had missed the new message that appeared on the screen. 

Bucky tossed a pile of hay over towards the side of our hut while I chased the goats towards their pen for the evening. The Wakanda air had chilled, letting us know that night was fast approaching. The fire next to me was dying down so after tossing a few logs onto it, I looked over towards Bucky. 

“You know you could start that fire again with a quick snap,” He reminded me. 

Immediately I shook my head. “Not needed.” 

After Bucky and I settled in our new lives, I promised myself that I wouldn’t use my powers. I wanted some sense of normality in our lives.

Bucky’s lips parted to speak but when he noticed the way my body froze while looking over his shoulder, he followed my gaze and knew what caused me to freeze. 

T’challa and Okoye were walking over the hill towards us, a very large case in hand. 

We hadn’t seen them in over two years, only ever seeing Shuri. She would occasionally come to check in on us, mostly Bucky, so when I watched as T’challa walked closer towards us I knew that the feeling I had was true. 

Something was coming. 

T’challa gave us a small smile while placing the case in front of us and clicked it open. Inside was something that Bucky never thought he would see again. 

A brand new arm made completely of vibranium. 

Bucky’s mouth fell open, staring at the flash of vibranium. His shoulders tensed and the feeling of fight filled my veins. 

“Where’s the fight?” Bucky questioned. 

“On it’s way,” T’challa admitted. 

“How does it feel?” I questioned. 

Bucky raised the new arm a few times and clenched his fist over and over again. 

“Honestly, amazing,” He admitted. 

I gave him my best fake smile before busying myself again with pulling out a lock box from underneath our bed. Inside were all of our knives, something I never thought I would need again. 

T’challa had said that a new threat was on it’s way towards us, ready to destroy our universe, and his name was Thanos. 

Thanos was on a mission to collect all six infinity stones and if he found all of them, he would be able to erase half of the universe with a snap of his fingers. His alien army was on earth to find two of the stones that were hiding here. The time stone was in New York with a Dr. Strange and the Mind Stone was with a very familiar face. 

Vision. 

Thanos already had two of the stones, meaning that he was close to completing his mission. 

To say I was secretly afraid was an understatement. 

T’challa had also mentioned that we would be seeing some old friends of ours really soon; Wanda, Vision, Sam, Nat, and Steve. 

They fought some of Thanos' army in Scotland causing Vision to get hurt in the fight. They were all their way to us, hoping that Shuri could create a new stone for Vision so that we could destroy the Mind Stone. It was a long shot, even I knew that, but if there was even a slight chance to save Vision and the universe, Steve would do whatever it took. 

At the thought of Steve, I reached for the phone in front of me. 

I’ll be seeing you soon. We’ve missed you. 

“Y/N?” 

Quickly pocketing the phone in my suit, I gave Bucky my full attention. 

“How’re you feeling?” He asked, pulling me into his embrace. 

I rested my cheek against his chest and snaked my arms around him. 

“I’m scared. This fight seems too big for us.” 

“I know,” Bucky sighed. “But Steve needs our help. He wouldn’t be coming to us if he didn’t.” 

It was my turn to agree. “I know.” 

We shared a kiss, our lips moving in sync for a few moments, and when Bucky pulled away we rested our foreheads together. 

“No matter what happens, doll, I will always love you,” Bucky declared. 

“I love you too, Bucky,” I breathed while placing a kiss on his plump lips. 

We were interrupted by the sound of a loud jet descending from the sky, and suddenly, the life that Bucky and I had created the last two years vanished beneath us metaphorically. I knew that no matter the outcome of this fight that we were about to face, nothing would ever be the same.

[idkfitememate]

Hear me out but horse!creator finding out where kaeya live and just flopping on his bed and just falling asleep. I don’t know how they fit, he problem has the princess wooden bed polls on his bed frame if anything. But just horse!creator back on the bed hooves up Towards the ceiling, with kaeya coming back for patrol or to drunk and needed a nap maybe diluc has to bring him back home and they just see a horse on the bed snoozing away.

Ps I feel out of spite if not just to mess with kaeya that horse!creator likes to be with diluc

-🐎anon



Neigh

My House Now

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : Diluc & Kaeya x Horse!Reader

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. :

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Crack & Crack

“What the…” Those were the only words that could leave Diluc’s lips.

Before him you lay in Kaeya’s bed, completely covering the spread, hooves in the air and mouth wide open allowing your demonic snores to fill the room.

Diluc huffed, adjusting Kaeya Om his shoulder while continuing to stare at you to try and make sense of the situation. While thinking, you shifted, rolling over to face the duo with a loud thump. The readheads eyes traveled to the bluehead who hiccuped in his sleep - terrifying and should’ve woken him up but didn’t so that was concerning - then to you, who snored away and twitched lightly.

For a moment, Diluc heavily considered just tossing his brother overtop your body and calling it a night - as it was cutting into his… nightly activities.

Deciding to find some mercy in his heart, Diluc gently set his brother down propped up against the bed, then walked over and started to gently shake your… shoulders??? He had no clue anymore but was a little too done to care.

After light shakes didn’t work, he moved to harsher shakes, then full on throttling, he may have even gave you a little tap whos to say.

Eventually after a few solid minutes of shaking Diluc gave a reluctant sigh, rising off the bed and making his way to pick up his brother. Once safe in his arms he turned around, only to be met with your silent, standing form behind him.

He jumped, shock clumsily hidden after a moment which led to you both staring each other down. Diluc analyzed you in the silence, noting your barely visible breathing and somehow scarily sharp eyes despite just waking up. He was again shocked when you started to walk, floorboards creaking under your weight while you shoved yourself behind him, angry curses and muttered whispered under his breath.

Once settled fully behind him - and be for r he could fully react - you grabbed the man by his scruff in your teeth. He flinched hard, immediately moving to fight back against you. You snort as you start to push him out of the room, the awkward position causing him to stumble over his own feet as you led him out.

A few long, torturous minutes later you came to the front room. You stop pushing Diluc, allowing him to take a moment to breathe. Before he could complain you snatched Kaeya out of his arms and toss him onto the couch with minimal effort.

Diluc was at the point where he couldn’t even be shocked anymore.

Then, you walked back over and gripped his collar in your teeth, and threw him out the front door.

Diluc stared at the door, looked at his hands, and simply walked off.

“I don’t have time to deal with this…”

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍨🍮🍩୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Kaeya woke to sun in his face and crusty and sweaty clothes clinging to his back. Something else he noticed was the smell.

The smell of eggs and breakfast.

Wicked hangover pounding in his head, the Captain walked into the kitchen to find you standing with a pan with frying eggs.

Without looking at him you plate the eggs, revealing a wide spread of foods. You snorted at his jaw dropped expression and walked over to him, hooves clicking across the floor. When you reached Kaeya you placed a hoof under his chin and closed it, the squeezing beside him and out of the kitchen leaving him to his breakfast.

“What… the fuck..?”

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : I feel like Horse!Creator Reader is deadass just. The horse from Tangled. You know which one.

[stars-forever]

It's been an honor...

After some thinking, I have decided that due to some personal things, I will be taking a Writing Hiatus. I don't know how long it will be, but figuring my last one was for over two years, there is a pretty good chance this one will be a couple months at the least.

All my mutuals on Tumbler, and friends on Discord, it's been an honor writing and getting to know you guys. I thought I should tag all of you so that you guys, don't worry if I stop posting. The flash fests, sprints, collab works, tag games, posts, and everything else were amazing and I had so much fun with you guys! I wasn't planning on taking this break until this morning, a lot has happened and I really need a break. But I am still going to read your works, share them, and leave comments.

Some things that I would like to point out before I stop writing:

I will not leave Tumbler, so feel free to tag me in stuff! I might not post/reblog as much as I used to, but I will still try to get on. Please know that I have a lot of posts in my queue currently, so it'll take about a week for them all to be posted.

You can still message me here on Tumbler, or on Discord. I will still be checking both of those accounts. Though I might be a bit slower for Tumbler.

I will still be a beta for your works and will continue to help you with it. I am not stopping being a beta, I'm just stopping writing. I will be taking fewer beta roles, though.

I will still be a mod for @pjo-equinox-solstice-exchange, and will still write a gift fic for the spring exchange.

I am still going to run @character-a-character-b, and all the Tumbler blog and the events that go along with it.

I will be going through my inbox soon and responding to any message I have there.

I will not be posting any of my works on AO3. I might decide to edit some of them and make them available for viewing again, but I will not be posting any new ones.

I will not be deleting any of my works. The last time I took a hiatus, I didn't delete anything, and I'm not going to this time. Yes, some of my fics were moved to collections where they cannot be viewed at this time, I was editing them but didn't have a chance to finish them.

I will not be deleting any of the requests that people have asked me for. They are so good, and I would love to write them when I am happier with writing. I am not leaving any of the Discord servers or Tumblr Communities I am a part of.

My last work as of now will be for @rynrising44 Flash Fest for @character-a-character-b. I posted a couple days ago before I decided to take a break. It will still be released as part of the event.

You can still give me asks for the writer asks game. Even if I'm not writing fanfiction, I'm still writing a novel so I don't mind talking about it! You can find them here!

I will not be taking part in any events other than, @pjo-equinox-solstice-exchange. There are a couple of events that I would like to take part in later this year, but I'm not sure if I am not going to take part in them.

I will still be approving comments on AO3. So feel free to leave them on any of the works I have posted there.

If you have any questions about this, you can always reach out to me.

I'm going to take this time to focus on my studies and the novel I am co-writing. I am going to come back to writing fanfiction, I have been since for years, but for now, I just need a break. I hope everyone can understand and I look forward to when am ready to join all of you in writing about our favorite characters.

My wonderful mutuals: @deception-united, @hellsresidentfallenangel, @theneverwriter, @alchemicalwerewolf, @zestialdragon, @eclipsingbingo, @blackwood4stucky, @evadne01, @evilwriter37, @queenofsliferred, @endlesstwanted, @bisexualbiancatruther, @littlelilliana15, @nothankyou543, @wyked-ao3, @rynrising44, @freddy-eynsford-hills-cuck-chair, @piperslovebot, @starlight-write, @teine-mallaichte, @fallenangelics, @fallenangelicss, @hallsoffandom, @cssnder, @the-ellia-west, @lexywrite, @illarian-rambling, @fractured-shards, @lumpofsand, @exactlydelicateflower, @jamestsmirk, @sizzlingkingdomsheep989, @fandomsandfoxlore, @redlion8123, @randyzdz, @sincerelyrushwriter, @lillyrosenight, @deadpoolredhoodwintersoldiergirl, @aleheartilly, @hamsteriffic, @emmaspersonaldiary, @akemisalem, @wendydarlingfics, @urnumber1star, @thedragonchilde, @scarletbeast, @hozier-cried, @midnightwhispersinthemoonlight, @abdquffa9, @bizships, @anamateurhumanbeing, @subukunojess, @otaku-girl-ao3, @igottherapy, @peri-crone-al, @winter-doggo, @huskyblader, @dawnepiphany, @busyasabbey, @1attheedge, @iputhepinprincess, @lilac-hecox, and @melvinjr23!

I hopefully this will tag everyone.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Requesting Aid part 1

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @i-am-a-dragon34 @ms--lobotomy @jaghatai-khock

tagged: @kit-williams @whorety-k @bleedingichorhearts @thevoidscreams @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @felinisnoctis @bispecsual

Author's note: More of Kerubiel in Husbandry. Thank you to @c-u-c-koo-4-40k for letting me borrow Khopesh, and Lullaby as well as collabing with me on this fic. Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Cedric... Also thank you to both of Sleepy and C-u-c-koo for giving me Some Wonderful Ideas.

Author's note 2: This is set after the events of Draco getting captured. This is a bit of a jump in Kerubiel's time line. More of his early story will he posted later. I was just listening to lore on Primaris Dark Angels and just had to get this written.

Authors Note 3: This will be a two part series. It's all told a little over 13k words! Thanks again to @kit-williams, @sleepyfan-blog, and @c-u-c-koo-4-40k for helping with this part of the story. :)

Summary: Kerubiel, much to his displeasure, has to meet up with some of his older brothers, without any of his fellow Primaris there. So he asks Khopesh for help. It totally won't go wrong.

Warning: kidnapping, torture and interrogation, drugging, truth drugs, mind control, mind manipulation, stabbing, near death experiences, Let me know if I need to add anything.

Kerubiel finds the person he's been looking for and calls out to Khopesh, "Khopesh? Can I speak with you privately for a moment?"

"Sure," Khophesh says carefully. The Cub tended to be growly, but was getting better.

"I need you to stab me up through here and into one of my hearts. It won't kill me, but it will activate my Belisarian Furnace." He states, with a very serious expression on his face, "And we have to be quick about it."

Khopesh blinks before responding. "...Tell me why. I'm not saying no...but tell me why." Khopesh says, of all the things he thought he'd hear from Kerubiel, that…that was not one of them.

Kerubiel scowls, but not at Khopesh, "I am forced to interact with some fellow Dark Angels." He twitches a little, "The pride of lions has an Apothecary and an Interrogator Chaplain." His hands clenched into fists as he prowled around the room, Kerubiel had handed over the knife to Khopesh as he'd asked the question. "The First Borns in M42, especially the Dark Angels," He explains, unhappy to speak of such things to an outsider- but fuck those high handed first born bastards.

"The First Born so called brothers of mine had some /interesting/ protocols for us Primaris marines. Whenever they would have us checked over after battle, sent to the Apothecary to be healed. Or sent to a Chaplain of our Gene-line...." He pauses looking more angry than he's ever been, a flash of hurt on his face, "They would use brainwashing on us, twist our minds to blank obedience and compliance. Then…they would then send us into battle- 'they make good bullet sponges'. Bastards."

He clenches and unclenches his hands, "The only way for - for us to /remember/ what those bastards did to us- to make it so that we wouldn't be twisted into their meat shields is to have our Bellisarian Furnace active. So we - I, can remember what... what they make us do. To ensure that I ... I am myself instead of their /puppet/."

"The stipulations for these brothers is that I have to go myself- none of my fellow Primaris Marines- no, non-sons of the Lion can meet them." Kerubiel's shoulders droop, "please. I don't... I don't want them to take my mind from me.. to- to make me tell them what I don't want to... they could... they could take me away from Gannet Point- from ... from the Pride I have formed with the Primaris here. Please. Khopesh I-... fuck. I don't want my brothers to take my mind from me again. Khopesh please. You- you have helped Claude and the others before... You... seem trustworthy enough..."

Khopesh takes in a deep breath as he processes what he's learning, "Are you Sure you don't want me to just kill them? Cause I can do that for you. I'll make it look like an accident and /Everything/."

He watches Kerubiel for the moment as the Dark Angel mulls over his counteroffer, the more he learns about how poorly the Primaris Marines were treated by their older brother, the more their reactions to everything makes sense. No wonder they could get so... hostile and weird about things so quickly.

Kerubiel responds with a hesitant, but honest, "I'm not sure if they are the brainwashing types or not. If they are, yes I want you to kill them and make it look like an accident."

"Alright fine I'll do this for you. But the Moment! You get back to base, you trot your ass to the apothecary. And you didn't get stabbed by Me. Understood?" Khopesh says sternly. He doesn't want to leave the younger marine stabbed and surrounded by potential enemies who were, on the outside, nominally older brothers and allies.

"Thank you!" Kerubiel almost looks like he's going to cry or hug Khopesh but blinks firmly and his hands twitch, "of course, you are doing me a favor, I'm not going to rat you out for stabbing me because I asked you to."

"While I appreciate that…Oh who am I kidding of course they'll ask questions. Just tell them I got too into it and stabbed you in a spar. They'll believe that. Ah...the Loyalists may not even need to be Told. They'd assume it was one of us. Better they just think it's me rather than Claude or Anrir or Karlsy. Most people know I'm...energetic." Khopesh says with a huff and a shake of his head.

Kerubiel nods, "very well- and they know I tend to say things that piss you off anyways... even though half the time I don't intend to."

"Ah you're getting better. And you haven't reoffended since. No hard feelings, little cub!” Khopesh growls playfully, ruffling the lion cubs short mane.

Khopesh turns the knife over in his hands. “So...am I supposed to stab you Now? Or do you want to like...be a little closer to the meeting point?" Khopesh asks, he feels a little honored that Kerubiel of all the Primaris was starting to trust him. It was a good thing though. He'll tell Anrir about this shit show later.

"Closer to the meeting point. too soon, and I'll heal too much before the meeting happens." Kerubiel says. "I'll take you near where the location is."

"And...what if the meeting goes on for a while? What then?" Khopesh asks, as Kerubiel bleeding out and dying was a very real possibility with this plan.

"I will either heal or die," Kerubiel says with a shrug, then he adds saying, " I can also still use my teleporting power to get the hell out of the meeting if it goes on too long."

Khopesh stared at him for a moment, "Alright, let's go…meet, your older brothers, then.”

Kerubiel nods and begins walking. And though still uncertain about…ALL of this Khopesh follows.

…

They come to a stop near where his brothers set the meeting place. It's near a clearing in the forest where he'd first landed on Ancient Terra. "They are only just out of hearing range. Time to stab."

"Are you sure about this?" Khopesh asks Kerubiel.

"Yes, if you stab me now, by the time I get to the meeting I will have stopped bleeding enough for me to claim it's older than it is while having my Furnace activated."

"Alright, here goes nothing." Khopesh says as he swiftly moves and stabs Kerubiel with near lethal precision, up through the ribs and into one of his Hearts.

Kerubiel grunts in pain and then nods jerkily as Khopesh backs off with blade in hand. Kerubiel shoves a bandage in the wound to keep his blood from dripping on his armor. His blood clots and his furnace is activated. He nods towards Khopesh, "thanks for your help." He grunts before turning and making his way to the meeting location.

Khopesh nods, but he doesn't walk away. He's going to wait a few minutes before following Kerubiel. Because while the Primaris was uncertain whether these brothers were mind stealing assholes or not, Khopesh wasn't going to merely sit back and hope for a better outcome.

Part of him wanted to give the younger Scout some backup, even if he didn't realize he had some. Khopesh has heard that Dark Angels' legion could be paranoid and a secretive bunch. It's likely part of why the Dark Angels had Not come to Stone Flame Base to meet with Kerubiel.

Khopesh is glad to have enough of the surly Dark Angel's trust to help with this issue... even if he's going to sneak along without the primaris 'noticing'.

…

Kerubiel comes upon the retinue of Dark Angels as his feet carry his…somewhat disconnected body to the meeting place. He greets his older, -more experienced, more dangerous, more important- brothers with stiff, polite formality.

"Sir! Primaris Scout Kerubiel." He clicks his heels together and stands at attention, and salutes the highest ranking officer. Who turns to look at him, a grizzled older first born with plenty of battle scars and repaired Armor.

The Lieutenant makes him wait five minutes before slowly saluting back and saying, "At ease, Scout."

Kerubiel goes to ease the rest of the squad of astartes and slowly starts to encircle him, and he does his best not to twitch or growl or follow their movements by moving his head around. He occasionally watches them out of his peripheral vision.

"You are a large one, aren't you?" The Chaplain draws out his grey eyes cold, calculating and assessing.

"Primaris Marines are built larger than First and Terran Born Space Marines, sir." Kerubiel explains steadily, having heard the unspoken question of 'are you Chaos Corrupted?’

"Hm," the Apothecary eyes him, "come closer, I need to assess you for health." Kerubiel's stomach clenched a little.

"I have had a medical check up by Apothecary Cedric recently, sir," Kerubiel says, shaking his head, hoping that they will allow him to say no.

"And was this Apothecary a member of the 1st Legion?" The Apothecary asks, eying him sharply.

"Does that matter, sir?" Kerubiel asks.

"That's a no, then," the Apothecary mutters to one of the others, "Scout, you are going to be given a medical Exam by myself."

"I don't want to be examined by you out here." Kerubiel responds firmly, backing away from the pushy Apothecary.

He spots something in one of the Apothecary's hands…

A Needle.

Hpyno-drug therapy was one of the ways he and his Primaris brethren were dragged further under their elder's control. While his furnace is active, at least he will wake up faster and remember what the bastards do to him, even if he can't stop them from taking over.

Kerubiel backs away from the Firstborn Space Marine. Part of him hopes that Khopesh's inquisitive nature had led the Night Lord to stalk after him. Despite him vaguely insisting on going to the meeting alone.

"Stop moving," the highest ranking brother barks out in a commanding tone.

The pit of stress in Kerubiel's stomach twists in two directions; fear of disobeying, and fear of what may happen if he doesn't disobey. The contrary sensations leave him vulnerable, unable to move, unable to fight or flee or even speak-

There is a soft sound, barely a rustle before- "AHHHRGH!" Kerubiel comes back to his senses seeing a familiar shape in dark blue armor. Khopesh must have been hiding in the foliage and struck just as the Apothecary reached for him.

And that reach had been his undoing as the Night lord mercilessly sank his teeth into the meat of the Apothecary's forearm. One of Khopesh's Claws was braced against the Lion's upper breastplate, partially obscuring his face. Seems these Lions hadn't had the benefit of all of them falling here with full armor.

The sound was almost sickening as the Night lord used his strength and position to sever the unarmored forearm, snapping the ulna and radius as if they were Chicken bones in the mouth of a wolf hound, while shoving the Apothecary back so he stumbles into his brethren.

But Khopesh wasn't finished yet. Even as the Lions rally, and curse and draw their weapons he Still puts on a show of sinking his teeth into the disembodied limp so it CRUNCHES again before spitting it out as if it offended him. "He said No, FUCK OFF!"

Even with the Apothecary down, their perimeter is choked and swords are fully drawn, accusations are being shouted. "Time t'go." Kerubiel grunts out as his vision flickers.

It's all the warning he can give Khopesh as he snags the bloody Night Lord and teleports the pair of them to Stone Flame Base, near the Apothecary Bay that Cedric’s working at and his knees buckle.

"I appreciate the save but...why was biting specifically your first idea?" Kerubiel asks as he leans heavily on the Night Lord, curious as to his answer.

Khopesh smiles in that unsettling way, amplified even more so by the blood still smeared across his mouth and neck, and simply replies. "Gotta use what you've got remember?"

He pulls his lips back with one clawed finger to further emphasize the frankly Disturbing number of sharpened teeth he has, with a doubly disturbing coat of blood. "Besides...those Lions looked like they could use a reminder about having polite hands. Some learn and some don't." He says with a shrug.

If he was fully honest Khopesh had considered mauling a chunk from either the bastard's severed arm or even his Unsevered arm and Eating it in front of them. But he'd probably not had the time for such embellishments.

Given proper time he'd have chewed it with his mouth open, make an even bigger show for those grabby Lions so they had plenty of material to infest their Nightmares. Oh well...ripping a limb off, and snarling while covered mouth to neck in blood did a well enough job for intimidation he supposed. Notes for next time.

"Fair point," Kerubiel says as he leans into Khopesh. He's drained of energy from the grox-shit day he's had and the use of psykery to teleport two people.

“Woah…easy Cub I've got you.” Khopesh grunts, supporting the youngster who does have some height on him.

Khopesh half carries Kerubiel into the med bay and Zariel comes over and fusses over the Dark Angel Primaris Marine. Naturally he asks (interrogates) the pair of them, and gets the story out. Well, a version of the story that has a lot of truth in it.

"There are things you aren't telling me," The almost teal eyed Ultramarine says, frowning at the pair of them.

"Yes." Kerubiel says flatly. "And I'll talk to Cedric about it if it becomes relevant." He huffs, not really wanting to share details of this encounter, however brief.

Khopesh having no such hang ups and Not being the best at room reading chimes in proudly. "Keru was almost kidnapped by Dark Angels," Khopesh says with a wicked grin, some blood still on his teeth, "And I helped stop it."

"Grox-slinging Dark Angels," Zariel swears softly as he rubs his face, "Alright. I'll put out a subtle warning about a First-Born Dark Angel that had his arm bitten off by another Astarte."

He sends out the message to several of his fellow Apothecaries he knows that will be discreet about it, including Hura and Cedric. Hydra help them, because Zariel has a bad feeling this won't be the last he hears of this incident.

…

A few days later Zariel gets a ping on his vox.

Cedric had been sent the odd message from Zariel about the 'Dark Angel with severed limb'. He can tell that there is a story, one that he hopes he'll get more of if he finds those miscreant Dark Angels.

And as it turns out they might've just got their first proper lead. A squad or so of Dark Angels has come to the clinic with an Urgent Case.

Limb reattachment, as well as to help with a partially infected bite. Cedric asks the older cousins, "What happened to you?"

"We had been talking to a skittish younger brother Keru- something and he didn't want to be checked over by our Apothecary despite us knowing he was injured." One of the other Dark Angel's grumbles.

"We tried to…address his injury and when he became disobedient, and agitated we moved to restrain him. Then this! Night Lord jumped our Apothecary out of nowhere and bit his Throne Damn arm off!" The Interrogator Chaplain says indignantly. "And said 'don't touch him'... then the little brother somehow teleported off with the Night Lord."

That…that indeed sounds like two Space Marines Cedric knows Very well, but he still requests a description.

And indeed, they describe Kerubiel, he had suspected as much with the half a name they'd given him earlier. And while Khopesh can get violent- it's usually for a reason.

Knowing this, the Lion's dismissive and pompous attitude irks something in him, and Cedric finds himself speaking before he can rethink doing so. "Keru has good reason to be wary of firstborn Dark Angels, considering what they've done to him and his fellow primaris," was Cedric's snippy response.

"So, you know the younger brother then…Templar?” The Chaplain drawls, but his voice is anything but mellow. Cedric feels his stomach twist a little, but he forces himself to stay composed.

“I only know him in the medical sense, Sir.” He lies quickly, but convincingly, he hopes anyway. “And as I am Certain you are aware. I am bound by the code of Patient Doctor confidentiality. Even if I Did know him better I would not be able to disclose that information. I'm sure you understand.” He finishes, and there's no ignoring the venomous edge to his tone.

And the Chaplain clearly sees that, and Doesn't back down. “Allow me to tell you something You should Understand Scout.” He growls, low and cold. "Our Chapter Master has requested we take a Primaris, preferably of our Gene Line, into our custody. However you feel of the matter is irrelevant Templar." The Dark Angel veteran narrows his eyes and Cedric tamps down on his slowly building R a g e. "And whether it is Him we present to our Chapter Master or another, the cub Will be brought to heel, and re-educated on Proper expectations of obedience. He is one of the wards of Our Legion, no one else's." He huffed, turning with a step but not before one more barb was thrown. "And trust me, that Night Lord will Also be disciplined accordingly. Once he is found, his fate will belong to Us."

Cedric feels his anger and fear churn in his stomach, hot and cold, ice and burning. He forces himself to Wait, wait and count that (Deadman walking) bastard's steps until his mind settles.

Then he quickly sends a vox to the primaris group chat, warning them of grabby firstborn Dark Angels, and to never be without a battle buddy. While his message is urgent he keeps his movements casual, professional, unsuspicious. Then he takes a deep breath, and puts on his most Accommodating smile. It doesn't touch his eyes in the slightest.

"Fascinating. You should definitely speak with apothecary Hura. I'll go get him for you."

"...Very well," The highest-ranking Dark Angel says magnanimously.

Cedric walks slowly and with purpose until he's certain he's out of the Dark Angel's hearing range. Then he skitters to Hura, eyes wide and anxious. He's learned one of the better tactics to get the slow moving and calculating Chaos Death Guard to move swifter and to aid not only himself, but his other primaris marines, even the ones he's more ambivalent towards.

Cedric explains the Dark Angels, and his concerns, "Hura? I'm worried that Keru could be in danger due to the... paranoid and often scorched planet tactics of the First Legion."

As he speaks he stares up at Hura with very big and sad eyes. One might call them sad puppy eyes. He thanks his brothers who know how to sucker convince older brothers and cousins easily of things with some subtle manipulation of facial features. Jophiel was really good at it most of the time.

"Hmm... that's concerning, I shall see what I can do to make them go away." Hura says.

"Thank you, Hura," Cedric says sweetly.

"You are welcome." Hura says as he pats Cedric’s hand.

Hura gets up and sends a message to Zariel about finding the naughty Dark Angels. Zariel will be nearby to help while Hura looms over the misbehaving space marines. The Dark Angels turn and glower at him as he enters the room.

He smiles in response. Ah…this is going to be Fun.

…

“Okay so the game works like This.” Jophiel explains folding a larger piece of paper several times half by half by half.

Lullaby and Claude sit on the other chairs at the art room table, listening intently with various art supplies of their preference at their sides.

“The challenge is to make a coherent image or story by drawing one new picture each; one after the other. When one fold is full we unfold and continue the process until the whole page is covered! And it's supposed to be much more difficult doing it with multiple people.” The Blood Angel trills.

Claude nods. “Okay, one question though…”

“Yes Claude?”

“What is this exercise for? Like…what is it meant to train us for?” The Primaris Ravenguard asks, eyeing the charcoal pencils he'd picked out skeptically.

“Fun! That's what!” Lullaby replies excitedly, picking up their colored pencils. “Plus it challenges your brain to be creative and work with whatever marks or drawings the person before you left behind. Adapt, Improvise, Overcome!”

Claude nods again. “Okay. But who starts?”

“We could flip a coin…twice.” Lullaby offers. “Or just go around the table. Jophiel's the one who brought up the game so he can go first.”

“I would be Honored.” Jophie says with a flourish. “I will start with a sigil of Sanguinius!”

Jophiel leans over the folded page and begins making the design, once he finishes he passes it to Lullaby.

But…their face takes on an odd look. “Uh…Jophie? Didn't you say you wanted to make the Blood Angel symbol.”

“Yes?”

“Isn't this the sigil for the Dark Angels?” Lullaby asks, confused and turning the paper back to him so he can see.

And indeed, the symbol for the first Legion stares back at him. “I…That is…odd?”

He truly doesn't remember Doing that.

Lullaby shrugs. “I mean it's fine. I'm gonna try to draw Kerubiel.” They say, happily filling in the page accordingly.

Lullaby's firmly a hobby artist but dare they say it is recognizable as Kerubiel, with the Dark Angel sigil on his Pauldron, and their best execution of his slightly sour face.

Then they pass the paper to Claude.

“Hmm…I think I will draw a forest with a night sky behind him.” He states, scribbling with his charcoal pencils.

Once he's done he passes the paper to Jophiel.

Jophiel's expression shifts. “Claude?”

Something about Jophiel's voice feels unsettling. “Yes? What is it?”

Jophiel turns the image around. “These trees look rather…ominous. Did you mean for them to look so?”

Claude and Lullaby look at the page and…”What on earth?” Claude breathes.

That…that's not a forest at night. Claude sees that his image is indeed much more sinister. As it appears Kerubiel is surrounded by shadowy figures. And behind his form is…something pale?

With how the image is now it almost looks like Kerubiel is laying on some kind of bed. The figures around him make Claude's proverbial hackles stand on end. There is a flash of something, and some blood trickles down Claude’s nose, and down from Jophiel's eyes as witch-fire blue flares in their pupils. Things get… hazy.

“Claude? Jophie? What's wro…ng…?” Lullaby's voice fades into the backdrop

The figures…they feel Wrong. They feel Like Danger. Claude and Jophiel stare at each other, blinking, and at Lullaby's worried face before they look down at the page. A spark of witch-fire flashes into their eyes as they start to mutter feverishly- quickly as they draw, each of them drawing something, grasping for colored pencils and adding more to the scene.

Lullaby watches the pair of them closely- Karlsor had talked about Psyker ‘grox-shite’ to them and how to tell if someone is having a Vision Episode- which it looks like Jophiel and Claude are having- and from the story that’s being painted on the page, it’s a dark one.

Lullaby may not understand their muttering especially in Gothic but they can parse certain words.

“Kerubiel…danger…cut…death…” And rather than intervene, what they hear compels them to keep passing the page back and forth; grabbing and passing colored pencils between the two until the story unfolds.

Lullaby bites their lower lip worrying it a bit, the pictures they are drawing take on a darker and more dire meaning. Kerubiel? Lullaby frowns- oh no. They are drawing more about Kerubiel. That’s not good as Lullaby watches the picture being drawn more of the shared snatches of a vision come into clarity.

Other Dark Angels- from what Lullaby knows of Space Marines- they are likely First Born, and not Primaris, even if Lullaby only vaguely knows the difference between them. Mostly it seems like Primaris are bigger and younger. Or at least, from what Lullaby can tell.

A Surgical Table surrounded by shadows. Lullaby’s eyes widen as the shape of the surgical table and the blood seems to almost drip off the page. The baseline can almost smell it, and their stomach roils.

Dark Angels standing around a surgical table where Kerubiel lies bleeding. Knives- Kerubiel is awake- is screaming- thrashing strapped, and being cut open alive. Awake. Aware. And his brothers are doing this to him. They are watching as they take him apart piece by bloody piece. Until he dies- it takes a long time, far too long for him to die- betrayed by those who called him brother.

First examining, then pushing, picking, prodding and finally, Extracting. Cutting away each useful organ and seeing how long the body of a Primaris holds out. Until there's nothing left but a shell with Kerubiel's face.

Then like wings of a raven- a bat or something. Cackling Mischief, playful, fierce, protective, vicious. And the vision- the drawing fractures. Kerubiel. Khopesh. The possibility of the future still potentially, dangerously close, but stopped. By the talons of a Bat. For now, at least.

Oh shit. The colored pencils drop, the blue witch-fire in their eyes fades and they groan clutching their heads with pain, and confusion.

By habit Lullaby brings their hands to each of their shoulders, their warp pacifying touch quickly lessening the pain of the vision.

“T-thank you.��� Jophiel gasps. “What…happened?” Claude follows, each wiping blood from their noses, and faces.

Lullaby doesn't immediately respond, instead their trembling hands grasp and hold up the finished drawing. Jophiel and Claude take it in, and though they do not shake, their dawning horror is the same.

“I'm hoping it's what hasn't happened.” Lullaby says bleakly. “We need to find Kerubiel, and Khopesh. Now.”

“Yes” “agreed” Both boys say as they get up. They both sway a little- using Psykery on Ancient Terra is very draining. Visions take a lot more out of a person in this time and place.

“I’ll send a message to Khopesh over vox,” Claude says.

“I’ll send a message to Cedric- I think he or Olly knows what Keru’s up to today.” Jophiel says as he sends a vox message to Thressl and then calls Cedric waiting on him to pick up the phone, trying to keep the panic from rising.

“Cedric speaking,” Jophiel hears his brother-cousin’s voice, “what did you need Jophie?”

“Do you know where Keru or Khopesh are? I and Claude had a really bad vision- and Keru’s… his brothers are going to-.” Jophiel takes a deep breath to steady himself. “Live dissection until there’s not but a hollow shell and his face left.”

“Technically I think it's a…Vivisection, since he seems to be…Awake and Aware…oh Lord I think I'm going to be Sick.” Lullaby swallows the lump and the bile threatening to come out of their throat, and turns the image away.

“... Keru’s fine- he’s training with Olly, they are being overseen by Captain Ash’val,” Cedric says, his tone both soothing and concerned, “did you see the faces of the… of his potential tormentors?”

“Vaguely,” Jophiel says, “Claude and I drew the vision down on a page. It was- it would have happened, might still happen, but Khopesh… did something and the path is fractured- for a time.”

“Where are you and Claude now?” Cedric asks, “I’m going to send Nanael and Atlas over to talk to you two and see this… vision picture art piece.”

“We’re hanging out with Lullaby in the second floor Art Rooms.” Jophiel says, and the one they'd chosen is mercifully empty.

“Khopesh was supposed to run some errands for Anrir today.” Lullaby speaks so the vox to Cedric can pick them up. “You don't think…you don't think he's in danger Right?”

“Hopefully no more so than Khopesh ever is. See if you can get through to him, he's more likely to respond to you immediately.” Cedric replies. “We will find them both, and make sure they are safe. For now please also tell Nanael and Atlas what you know. It will help protect them.”

Lullaby nods, pulling themselves more together with a deep sharp breath. “Okay. Stay safe Cedric.”

“Always.”

Lullaby does as advised, practically ripping their phone out of their bag and speed dialing their Khopesh. It rings more than three times and every ring causes a new twist of anxiety in their gut.

Click “My, my~ To what do I owe the Pleasure of this call my sweet Lullaby.” Khopesh purrs in the way that would Normally drive Lullaby crazy but their fear is overriding any other sensation at the moment.

“Are you safe?” Lullaby blurts as they see one familiar winged shape and one unfamiliar and not winged coming towards where they, Claude and Jophiel are standing.

“...I am in the Cleaning Aisle of the Supermarket…why would I not be safe?” Khopesh asks, and indeed, the hum of the store comes through the phone.

“Jophiel and Claude had a vision. A nasty one, and I'm pretty sure it involves You.” Lullaby replies, wincing as they look over the vision drawing. Beautifully rendered, horrific in subject. “And Kerubiel…and a Bunch of other Dark Angels??” Lullaby explains. “Please get back to base as soon as you can. And Whatever you do! Do not approach any other Dark Angels.”

“...” The pause on the other end makes you nervous, until you hear Khopesh growl under his breath. “Should have let me finish the job, and make it look like an accident!”

“...what?”

“Nothing!” Khopesh sing-songs in reply. “I will purchase Anrir's items and spirit myself back to you Lullaby, see you soon.”

Lullaby exhales, feeling as if they can breathe more easily…just a bit. “Good. See you soon. And Khopesh?”

“Yes my Darling?”

“I Love you.”

“Ah! Your Gothic is improving every day. I adore you, my Lullaby. See you soon~”

Lullaby drops the call and quickly explains to Claude and Jophiel that “Khopesh will be on his way home soon.”

…

Meanwhile in Hell.

“Hold Still, or I will not be able to Reattach your limb.” Hura grouses at the squirmy Dark Angel apothecary. Honestly! Apothecaries truly do make the worst patients even when they're not suspects in some kind of Primaris conspiracy.

“Let go! Let me go you Chaos Scum!” The Apothecary snarls from the medical bed, thrashing against the restraints.

Meanwhile Cedric stands between Hura and the other Dark Angels, using his height and size to keep them from interfering.

“Out of the way you whelp! You will not remove our Apothecary from our sight!” Snarls the Interrogator Chaplain in Cedric's face.

Cedric naturally pulls up his ‘customer service’ smile again, this time there is just a Hint of true enjoyment in his eyes. “I'm sorry Sir, but as you've said your Brother Apothecary was involved in an incident with another Space Marine. He'll need to be separated to go into surgery, and due to the Clear infection his mental state can be considered… diminished.”

There was an indignant noise from the patient behind him and the potential future patients in front of him at his words. Cedric tried to think of something else to say to try to calm the situation down a little.

Cedric supplies. “We must question him alone to ensure your presence does not…distort his recollection.”

The Chaplain is taken aback before the rage returns. “You think we will just allow you to-”

Cedric holds up a hand, cutting the Chaplain off with such satisfaction. “How you, or your squad feel about this is…ah yes!…Irrelevant.” Cedric explains. Oh, but that feels good to be able to say, especially to first born brothers- er cousins, And Especially to threats to his brothers.

“You cannot Force treatment on him!” The Chaplain argues hotly.

“True, but we are compelled to act in the Patient's best interest, and in the case of a Patient with a diminished mental state with a serious injury, We are allowed to use our discretion.” Cedric replies. “We are also able to use discretion if visitors to our clinic are acting in a reckless or dangerous manner. So unless you and your pride would also like to be strapped down and sedated, I suggest you Stand Down.”

The Dark Angel Chaplain's speechless face is almost as satisfying as his last gasps of life would be. But patience, patience, you can't find a hornet's nest if you smash the one that could lead you there.

Cedric turns on his heel once Hura and the still cursing Dark Angel Apothecary have successfully left the room, on their way to the surgery floor. Hura and Cedric clean and suit up to do surgery on the Dark Angel- and they do reattach the limb. As the Dark Angel is still under anesthesia.

Zariel is also helping scrub up- the Ultramarine notices the strange tension in the room and after he finishes helping with the surgery he fades into the background, but close enough to hear Hura and Cedric speak.

“We should call in Anrir,” Hura says calculatingly.

“... Anrir is picky about getting into… heated discussions, like this, without a personal vested interest.” Cedric says.

Zariel closes his eyes and tries not to swear. This sounds like it’s shaping up to be an Incident of some kind, one that could cause a feud that could cause much blood shed. Precious blood that shouldn’t be spent so frivolously on this place of such limited resources.

Hura turns only mildly surprised, but very proud and pleased with that very clear and accurate assessment of Anrir’s character. “True, but they have threatened Khopesh- of which Anrir does not tolerate threats to his sons.”

“That’s true.” Cedric says with a frown, “they did threaten Khopesh.”

Hura nods and calls Anrir, who picks up on the second ring, “Anrir here.”

“I need some Sodium Thiopental, and for you to help me with an issue, discreetly, for the moment, and come quickly we have a Dark Angel to interrogate.” Hura requests with a menacingly happy tone, he’s not threatening Anrir, that the Terran Born Night Lord can tell.

Zariel is most definitely staying for this and he shifts a little bit. Cedric turning to look at him and frowns at him and battle signs. [why are you still here?]

[I heard you were plotting to administer truth drugs.] Zariel battle signs back. [I was the one who sent out the BOLO about the ‘Dark Angel Apothecary with arm bitten off’ Remember? I can help.]

[Don’t interfere with this matter, Ultramarine.] Cedric warns, the way he twists the last sign sounded sarcastic as fuck.

[I won’t. I can and want to help. If only I know what is going on.] Zariel counters.

[You’ll hear more soon enough] Cedric responds.

“Hm… Why would I help administer a drug which suppresses someone's ability to think before speaking, in simple terms?” Anrir asks, he’s got some beakers in his hands as he continues to work, arching an eyebrow on the other line.

“Because this Dark Angel and his Pride of Lions have threatened one of your sons.” Hura says straight and to the point. “I especially wanted to warn you because they seemed to be describing Khopesh in particular.”

Hura hears the sound of breaking glass on the other side of the call. “What?”

“Yes the Dark Angels mentioned a bitey Nightlord with a Mouth Scar.” Hura's voice is as sweet as poisoned wine. He then sends over the video/audio recording of one of the Dark Angels describing Khopesh- and what the Dark Angels were going to do to him when not if they find him.

Anrir breaks something else as he hears that. All blasé attitude going out the window the moment he hears the Dark Angel's are targeting his son. Before when Hura was discussing the situation Anrir had been acting a little dismissive because his empathy only goes so far until Hura expounds that the Dark Angels plan on finding Khopesh and "deciding his fate".

“I am on my way.” Anrir says his voice is dark and dangerous.

“Oh excellent, because you are going to be here, we will be more in the right with our actions. Those Dark Angels made a threat, and with you here, we will be more able to retain the Apothecary at the clinic to get the information out of them.”

Retain in this situation meaning keeping captive, drugging and interrogating the Dark Angel. Of which Hura, Anrir and Cedric are well aware is something that is going to happen. Hura turns towards Cedric and eyes the younger Apothecary.

“... Have you gotten your training in enhanced interrogation techniques yet?” Hura asks Cedric.

“I am a fully qualified and trained Apothecary, Hura,” Cedric says, looking Hura straight in the eye levelly. “That includes interrogation and application of medications and methods of discussion and compliance.”

“Wonderful,” Hura says, sounding quite pleased.

“Oh- so you have more teeth than I thought,” Anrir says, having almost seemingly teleported over to the clinic.

“Yes Sir,” Cedric says politely nodding to Anrir, “He’s waking up from the limb attachment surgery soon.”

…

“Break!” Ash'vals voice cuts through the air in the training gym, causing both participants to halt their match.

“I can keep going for longer.” Kerubiel announces, rolling his shoulders to loosen them. “These bouts are so short, I'm barely getting winded.”

“You said that last time we trained too, right before you nearly passed out. Besides this isn't a reward, you're both on Basic drills until I say so.” Ash'val responds, grabbing some hydration rations and tossing them to the two Primaris. “And knowing how to Pace Oneself is also vital in combat. You would do well to remember that, lion cub.”

Kerubiel grouses under his breath, and catches the ration. Olly shrugs, before cracking open his own and chugging it.

But Oleanderos notes that…Kerubiel does not drink his, simply stowing it in his pack when Ash'val glances away for a moment.

“5 Minute Break, then we'll be doing laps.” He tells his charges, before a ping on his vox takes his attention. “Take a moment to meditate on your training and where you can improve.” The old dragon steps off to the side, and into the hallway to answer the message.

Kerubiel seems to become more aggravated and mutters that last phrase under his breath mockingly. Olly does catch the last thing he grouses and it…concerns him.

“I don't need to meditate I Need to train!” Kerubiel growls spitefully, standing up.

“...What are you doing?” Olly asks carefully.

“What does it Look like Oleanderos?” Kerubiel snarks, shifting from a poised stance to drawing his sword. Miming his movements on an invisible opponent.

So the full name came out…interesting. “It looks like you're going to get in trouble.” Olly points out. “Ash'val said-”

“RrrgGh!- SO WHAT!?” Kerubiel shouts, turning vitriol on Olly and swapping to Gothic. “WHAT DO I CARE WHAT SOME FIRST BORN COMMANDER BASTARD THINKS!? IT'S NOT LIKE THEY ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT US!” Kerubiel insists, ranting and pacing. “IT'S NOT LIKE THEY'VE EVER SEEN US AS ANYTHING MORE THAN TOOLS OR ABOMINATIONS TO BE PURGED!”

Olly sits back, not expecting…this.

“AND WHY SHOULD WE EVEN TRY TO FOLLOW THEIR ORDERS!? WHEN NOTHING WE DO WILL EVER BE! - WILL Ever…be Good enough…”

Ah…now he understands. Olly stands up.

“No matter…how hard we t-tried…” The rage is still there, but more prominent is a deep pit of sadness that is finally welling up to the surface.

“Why wasn't it enough…why were we Never enough…”

Olly enfolds his sniffling brother in a huge Ultramarine hug.

“Do- Don't You! Pity…me..” Kerubiel half heartedly tries to push Olly away, but deep down he knows…he needs this, and he stops trying.

[heretherebedork]

You might want to not tag this one, but I gotta get it out for TH/K writing.

For me, personally, I think the contrast of having such well written characters against not so rounded ones is what undersells them more.

Both Style and Fadel are really well thought, written, and consistent through and throughout, but Kant and Bison? They have their moments, but there's something within them that feels a bit empty. They're compelling characters but only in theory, in practice... I'm not sure what is exactly what they're lacking, but it feels as if they're just written for moments, for scenes between them, but they're just not well developed by themselves.

I'm finding myself enjoying much more the interpretations and afterthoughts the fandom has about them than they themselves, especially with Kant, who's peak of interest for me was at the water boat bit and then it just went nowhere. Well

Ah, welcome to the no tags zone, anon! I will keep this in that area and I respect you for it because I agree.

Kant is, for me, the bigger problem. He feels hollow. His 'fake' love feels the same as his real love and that really removes a lot of the... feelings... in the relationship. We saw Style change as he started to care for Fadel and we saw his momentary fear and then how he got over it and saw every aspect of his love for him as well as how he regained his trust after the betrayal.

But with Kant it's just all been... words. Words, words, words and none of them actually deep or meaningful. None of them feel meaningful. He's just... also there.

I think they made Kant too perfect.

He was a car thief but only for his brother!!! And he was a snitch but only to save his brother!!! The guy who calls him an asshole? Lying!!! He was really the NICEST GUY EVER. And then that just leaves with Kant the Actual Angel who only did anything wrong because he just loved his baby brother SO MUCH that he also said he was gonna abandon him the instant he got out of high school but, you know, that's... that's okay I guess?

He just doesn't feel like a whole, entire character. He feels like someone wrote out the parts of a character they thought mattered to the romance and then just... stopped. He's a really cool tattoo artist who used to steal cars because he had to take care of his little brother and now he's gonna snitch on this hitman and pretend to love him but OOOOO turns out not to be fake!

But there's no depth to any of it. It's all so shallow. The depth is what we give it but the show isn't giving us any of it. The show is as deep as the water Kant reached when he was still experiencing his phobia while we're trying to make it as deep as he reached thirty seconds later when he was suddenly and inexplicably cured of it.

AND because Kant is a Perfect Character who can Do No Wrong he brings down the people around him. And Bison is more complex and multi-faceted but because he has to be played entirely with Kant his depth ends up unable to actually be explored in the relationship because Kant doesn't have the same depth.

It's why, frankly, I found his scene with Fadel and forgiveness to never quite go as far as I needed it to go.

Then again, I still don't trust Kant. I know I have and the show doesn't care but he still feels like he's lying to me. Like, he doesn't feel sincere to me because I feel like he never changed from the part of the story where he was supposedly 'faking' his love.

(Also, fuck the idea that bringing back the safeword in the kidnapping is actually bringing back the BDSM or a good callback because it wasn't, it wasn't deep, it was a callback that didn't make a lot of sense in context and didn't go anywhere in the actual story and apparently that was also all it took to make no more BDSM for Bison, I guess?!?!?!)

Anyway, I love Fadel and Style and they make me very happy and Kant and Bison are also there. I'm more invested in Keen and Nont at this point and Nont is probably, like, tied up under the place Fadel was crying.

But yes, anon. I fully agree that Kant is underdeveloped and I think that underdevelopment has spread to Bison and I think it's weakened them as characters to the point that they cannot carry the plot or the romance... at least for me.

[meirimerens]

Because you mentioned Daniil‘s mama, does she ever meet artemy? What does she think of him? Does she ever find out about him and daniil being together or does daniil even come out to her? <3

she's at the wedding❤️ not said in jest btw she is.

I've mentioned it a few times in my #dankovsky lore and/or #yeva nazarovna dankovskaya tags (latter one including images of yeva interacting with burakh. Need to remake them but they're here and real still) dankovsky has been out to his mother since he was 15 after he realized age 11. for a while he didn't say anything because at age 12 like who cares but later it became that he kinda needed to say something lest he gets asked over and over about a fiancée so he preferred to readjust his mother's priorities before it became annoying. she's taken it better than his father, for this stuff I'll send you to the tags mentioned above because rewriting that in full kinda tires me a bit so you can read it [here] or [here].

she loves her grandkids because she was all on his ass with "you can still adopt right 🥺" even as he hadn't gotten a companion in his entire life. she's particularly fond of murky because murky looks Just Like Him For Real and is sad that she dislikes bangles and jewelry because yeva had kept all her jewelry for a future wife of her son's, then when that became obvious that That'd Be A No Ma'am for a future adopted daughter of his.

But Before That she has to kinda Meet Burakh indeed. after coming back to the city after his Hell on Earth countryside trip, dankovsky starts visiting more often from a feeling of "damn [scratches head] like is kinda precious and I should hang out with my mom before she's gone" and it becomes more and more obvious to her he has someone because he's like. Brighter psychologically. Less like the annoying stuck-up he's been. Mentions needing to travel back to the steppe often with a fondness that's not Colleagues-Only Related. so she starts "so is there someone👀 there is someone riiiight👀" and eventually he admits it. she's so excited to meet the guy (his dad a bit less because while he had made peace with him being gay [cf lore tag] he didn't really make it with dankovsky Having A Companion). Eventually yeva manages to convince her son to convince burakh to visit. and he does. a bit awkward. she thinks her son has good taste. both parents are quite in awe at the guy their son managed to bag because they're quite a bit smaller than him. yeva thinks it's so fun because she can ask him to fetch things on the shelves but dankovsky senior A Bit Less until burakh asks about the beetles collection and they get to bond by senior Proudly Discussing his and his son's collection. she reads his palms and is like I See👀 A Long And Prosperous Marriage 👀 [they hadn't even discussed that before]. Eventually burakh invites the dankovskies to ToG where yeva, who's a rather modest orthodox christian woman, is Vaguely Struck by the herb brides [cf this thing 2021 art jumpscare] but she respects the tapestry of the cultures of the world so she eventually just goes "what strong and athletic women🙏 I used to dance when I was younger um NOT LIKE THIS PERSONALLY but I did. But my knee… you know" And indeed eventually they are at the wedding. Love wins.

[hongjoongspoetry]

hongjoongspoetry's tumblr wrapped, 2024

Thank you @bvidzsoo for the tag!! 🩷

2024 review

2024 was the year I really got into writing for ateez. I've been writing fanfics since middle school and used to be in a lot of different fandoms. I used to post on wattpad, but was never consistent or managed to finish any of my stories. Ateez is the first group/fandom that I've really kept writing for a long period of time and not lost interest in, plus I've also managed to write complete oneshots and am almost even done with my first series (ever)!!!

Total statistics of 2024

- no. of fics: 8 - wc: 151.3K - no. of wips: 9

Genres explored in 2024

Horror, action, romance, dystopia, historical, sports fiction, slice of life, comedy, pirate fics (that one's in the drafts but it was written in 2024), can't forget the golden trio of fluff, smut and angst!!

first fic of 2024: Reassuring Words and Mellow Touches

- posted: feb 17th - pairing: Idol!San x F!Reader - comments: I believe this was my first ever ateez fic and it was actually "self indulgent" too. As stated in the author's note, I have a fear of giving birth and it's known in my primary family, but no one takes my fear seriously. So, back then, wrote the things I needed to hear in the moment and it was to have someone be understanding of my feelings.

longest fic: Bones, Blood and Teeth Erode

- posted: oct 8th - pairing: non idol!Yunho x F!Reader - comments: I never imagined to write something pushing 40k words!!! I'm actually amazed and proud of myself for finishing it. It was certainly a challenge as BBATE wasn't anything I've written before.

last fic: A Love Written in Gold | Chapter 1

- posted: nov 8th - pairing: Proletarian!Hongjoong x Nobility!Reader - comments: I'm so excited for this fic and everything I've planned for it!! I was originally not going to post it until Cold Hands, Warm Heart was done, but I couldn't hold myself from writing lmaooo.

top 3 most popular fics of 2024

Reassuring Words and Mellow Touches

- posted: feb 17th - pairing: Idol!San x F!Reader - comments: so this is getting quite repetitive 😭 it is what it is lmaoo, im just happy people could find comfort in my writing. Back then, I didn't expect it to get the attention it did or that people would reach out and tell me how much they feel seen.

Too Sweet

- posted: apr 24th - pairing: Upcoming rockstar!Yunho x F!Reader - comments: This fic is entirely inspired by Hozier's Too Sweet. I was obsessed with that song when it came out and I think I listened to it on REPEAT. I just had to write a fic to it and at the time, it was the longest fic I had eve written!

Baby, Love Me Lights Out

- posted: sep 21st - pairing: Idol!San x GN!Reader - comments: okay so this one, I just wrote it for shits and giggles 😭 that was the day I learned just how much atiny love drunken san lmaooo.

mina's personal picks

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

- posted: jun 3rd - pairing: hockey player!mingi x figure skater!reader - comments: this is my fav fic (series) from 2024! I've always wanted to do an ice sports fanfic, but never really had the time nor like "knowledge" to do it when I was younger lmao. I have so many ideas for this fic and this universe overall because the other boys will have their own stories later on, so they are all connected!! AND we get small cameos/easter eggs in each series of what the other boys' fics will be about! Although there are a lot of readers who liked CHWH, I'm still a bit sad it didn't get more recognition as I did put in a lot of thought behind it, but I'm still happy its almsot done. Mainly because it's my first ever series and well, I just love the characters I've created

A Love Written in Gold

- posted: oct 8th - pairing: Proletarian!Hongjoong x Nobility!Reader - comment: Okay, so season 3 of bridgerton really sparked this idea of writing a bridgerteez fanfic and I just had to write something for my bias! I'm a sucker for the forbidden love trope so this was the perfect fic to use it for lmaooo. No, but this is also a fic I have so so so much to planned for and I really can't wait to share it with you!! It's also really fun to write, which I can say I don't feel the same for some fics. If you have time and love bridgerton, I advice you to give it a chance!

2025 goals

One of my goals for 2025 is to write more and publish more fics than I did in 2024, but I don't know if I will achieve it as I'm swimming in work from uni hahah. If not, then I at least wish to finish my series cold hands, warm heart and a love written in gold before 2025 ends. I also want to start writing the next instalment Puzzle Pieces!

No pressure tags: @ennysbookstore @solaris-amethyst @seongwars @desirehorizon @everyonewooeverywhere + anyone else who wants to do this! 🩷

[bullet-prooflove]

Trying not to need you, is tearing me apart

Tagging: Tagging: @kmc1989 @queenslandlover-93 @nu1freakshow @lazilynervoussong @mimi-8793

Prequel piece to:

Gold (NSFW) - You make Cal jealous after an indiscretion.

Cal doesn't have feelings for you, at least that’s what he tells himself. But he also doesn’t want anyone else to have you. It’s another one of those mind fucking contradictions that occurs when he sees you sitting with another man in a coffee shop, heads bowed close studying something on your tablet. His arm rests on the back of your chair, fingertips lightly grazing the sleeve of your ‘Botanists Do It Better’ t-shirt.

He doesn’t interrupt but he thinks about it all the way back to the weed farm, his hands grasping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white.

When he fucks you that night it with a possessive he didn’t know he had in him. Your ecstasy becomes the focus of his attention, the ruthless pursuit of your pleasure lasting long into the night until you’re overwrought, oversensitive and completely exhausted.

“You’re staying tonight.” He informs you, his palm smoothing the hair away from your flushed features.

“I can’t.” You tell him in that utterly fucked, breathless voice of yours. “I have to meet Ravi in an hour.”

He doesn’t know who hell Ravi is but he wants to murder him.

He pulls away then, slipping from the sheets, disappearing into the bathroom because the hurt he’s feeling right now, it’s the reason Cal doesn’t do vulnerability. You’re gone when he steps out of the shower, the bed neatly made, his clothes tossed in the hamper, it’s like you were never even there, that this thing between the two of you doesn’t exist.

It’s an hour later the doorbell goes, he thinks it must be you, that maybe you changed your mind after all. When he opens the door he’s surprised to find Margaret on the doorstep, here’s a bottle of Chateau Lafite in her hand and she’s wearing that dress, the one she always wears she’s in the mood.

“Cal.” She says. “I thought we could pick up where he left off.”

He smiles then because the only way to get over someone, is to get underneath someone else.

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

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[echoingbirdsofprey]

Back Forty View (On Our Piece Of Ground)

8 - You Had Me From That First Hello

Pairings: Tyler Owens x OFC Georgia Tennley-Owens, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky

Rating: Explicit (MDNI!)

Warnings: nothing spectacular just some raunchy language from Jake and Tyler and pregnancy/baby talk

A/N: This chapter and the next are kind of a jumble of stuff because Jake and Sam need to go back to California soon and figure some things out lol. Nothing special with this one just lots of pregnancy/baby talk! Thank y'all for continuing to read! Hope you enjoy! Gifs by @kaizsche, pictures from Pinterest! As always likes, comments, reblogs, etc. are so so appreciated! This one has some song notes through out so hit play on those for the full experience!

Tags: @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @gpsmississippihippie @dizzybee03 @barnesboo1967 @coloraturadiva @kmc1989

It always ended the same way. Tyler and Jake would go for a short drive, out in the back forty and listen to whatever music they had on hand. This particular time, Jake had graduated Top Gun, top of his class and he’d come home to tell Kenny, Jeanie, and Tyler in person. They were going to celebrate later on, but not before the boys had their own little festivities, which included a jaunt through the wilds of Arkansas in Tyler’s new truck. Tyler had just gotten a beautiful red Dodge dually, diesel, 3500. Bone stock, but Jake knew that his brother was about to modify the shit out of it. After Jake had put his bags down in the living room, hugged his mother and Kenny, Tyler nearly dragged him out the door and pushed him toward the passenger side. Jake hopped in and they set off down the road. Tyler wanted to test the truck out first with his favorite person in the world. Jake.

They cranked the radio, Tyler putting his spotify on shuffle, with a country playlist like they always went for when they headed out on adventures. The drums, tambourine, and guitar all melded in through the speakers and out the open windows. Tyler had his cowboy hat on, a new one he’d just gotten and sunglasses, and Jake had a backwards baseball cap, one that used to be Tyler’s, and his own set of sunglasses, his favorite pair that he kept on him exclusively for show. He only wore them up in a jet, or with Tyler in the truck. 

As the lyrics flowed through the speakers, Tyler hummed and Jake stuck his arm out the window, his smile wide. When the chorus came up, both boys belted out the lyrics.

“I need a pretty little homegrown hometown girl, with a ribbon tyin’ back those waterfall curls, I been lookin’ all over all over the world, for a pretty little homegrown hometown girl!” They sung in unison, glancing at each other and smirking. 

“I know exactly who you’re talkin’ about, T.” Jake pursed his lips. He knew Tyler was still on about the girl who’d left him. Jake knew he would always be about that girl. He believed those two were soulmates, just put together at the wrong time and they’d find each other again. Damn it if Tyler wouldn’t do everything he could to find her. In the meantime though, Tyler would joke that Jake is his soulmate. 

“You talkin’ about anyone in particular?” Tyler asked, his hand gliding along the fresh, new leather of the steering wheel. The truck smelled new and they both couldn’t get enough of it. It was a comfortable ride, and Tyler was the only person that Jake trusted to drive. That was why Jake could never be a back seater. He couldn’t handle having someone in control of where they were in the air, but on the ground, he’d give up all of that to Tyler. And no matter how sketchy things got, he always put his faith in Tyler. 

“Nah, no one. I’d like a little hometown girl though. Pretty little brunette maybe? Big tits and a big ass? Someone that’d look fuckin good on my arm at Navy Balls and all that shit.” JAke said and Tyler blew air from his lips.

“Yur a slut, y’know that?” Tyler joked and Jake reached over and punched him in the shoulder lightly. “Not from our hometown though. Ain’t none’a these girls good enough for you Jake, I tell ya.”

“Nah, maybe a California girl. Pretty, tan, and like I said, brunette. She’s gotta be a brunette. God, I’d love a hot little brunette to be sitting on my couch in my Cowboys jersey, watching football on a sunday. Fuck.” Jake shook his head and Tyler couldn’t help the laugh that left his lips. He glanced over at Jake, who smirked and tilted his head. 

“Yeah and I’d take a cute lil’ blonde barrel racer girl that I could have a few kids with, a farm and go roping on the weekends. Maybe we can watch football, but maybe we could go do fun shit with the kids too.” Tyler’s smile faded slightly and then he shot a look at Jake, whose jaw stiffened. 

“Don’t ruin the mood you jackass.” Jake chucked a bottle cap at Tyler that he’d found lodged between the seats. Brand new truck and his brother already had crap everywhere. “Don’t get sentimental on me, you dick.”

“I’m not...I’m just...I don’t know. I’m gonna miss ya, Jakey.” Tyler said and Jake grabbed his brother’s shoulder. Tyler turned down a dirt road and pushed the truck a little faster, letting the suspension and tires do some work. The boys were quiet as the next song came over the speakers, making them grin. They belted the song, both of them tapping their hands on the outside of the truck as Tyler steered the monster through thickening brush and low, muddy spots.

“Gotta git down, gotta git down to Arkansas, havin’ so much fun that it’s probably a little bit against the law! All the boys and the girls down there sure know how to have a ball! If ya wanna git down gotta git down to Arkansas!”

The truck bumped along and almost bottomed out, crunching sticks underneath its six tires and heavy frame as they navigated out of the worst of the trail. On the other end was a clearing, a big field that ended at a small cliff, where it overlooked the Arkansas River. They were just in time. Tyler parked some feet from the edge and both boys climbed up onto the roof of the truck, the newly installed rack above the cab the perfect spot for them to sit. Their legs hung off in front of the front windshield and Jake pulled two cans of shitty beer from his sweatshirt pocket, handing one to his brother and cracking his own open. They gazed up at a darkening sky, watching as a storm began to build just on the other side of the river, several miles away. It was heading away east from them so they weren’t worried about it.

“There might be a tornado in that one.” Tyler said, pointing toward the front of the storm. Jake’s brows raised.

“You gonna take me on a chase any time soon?”

“Yeah when you come back from your next deployment. We’ll go. I’ll have the truck modded out by then. It’ll be able to withstand an F-1 at the least.”

“You're nuts. But I believe in you. I know you’ll get it done.”

🌪️🛻🛩️⚓

When Tyler and Georgia brought Jaycen home for the first time, there was a palpable fear between them. They didn’t know how to care for a kid. Sure, they’d read some books, talked to everyone they could, got a hundred opinions, but now it was up to them to really figure it out. 

They knew the first week would be exhausting. They had already been running on fumes, so any chance they got to sleep was going to be key. Jaycen was pretty consistent about sleeping. He’d be down for a couple of hours and then wake up, begging for something to eat. They’d decided it was best for them to do mixed feeding, so that if Georgia was too tired, Tyler was able to take over and feed Jaycen. Jake and Sam had also volunteered to help out, figuring they could use the experience if they wanted to have kids too. 

Samantha had really taken to the little guy. The tufts of hair on his head were her favorite thing and she gently brushed them back and forth when she held him. Jake’s favorite thing about Jaycen was that he was kind of a sassy little boy. He would stick his chubby little fingers in his mouth when he wanted food and then, and he only did it to Tyler and Jake, would smack them on their arm several times while his bottle was being prepared. Tyler was determined to keep the temperature consistent, not too hot and not too cold. Georgia appreciated his attentiveness not only to Jaycen but also to her.

When Georgia was feeling particularly tired, Tyler would bring Jaycen to her, that way if she wanted to feed him in bed she could. Georgia already adored the little boy, who had the same sage green eyes as his father. She loved looking into his big green eyes, full of curiosity for the world in front of him. Tyler’s favorite thing about the small human was that he would just stare at Georgia, his focus never leaving his mother. He understood that, because he felt the same. He loved Georgia and he knew that the little boy would love her too. 

The great thing about having Jake and Sam around was that they could help with everything on the farm. Tyler had delegated to Boone for anything for the channel and they’d made a short video introducing the newest storm chaser. There had been a lot of congratulations but there had also been some salty comments from the sore losing fangirls who thought they’d had a chance with Tyler. They even went so far as to comment on Ophelia’s videos that she’d taken of Georgia helping her, saying that Georgia didn’t know everything. Georgia would be the first to admit that though, so it didn’t bother her. Ophelia shut down everyone that came into her comments, defending her mentor fiercely. 

As for the Wranglers, there was the pro-Georgia camp and the anti-Georgia camp there. It was really just a couple of recurring girls who were pissed that Tyler had flirted with them once or twice at a bar or at a rodeo and they never got their chance with him. Tyler made it a point every time he was on the stream or in the chat that any Georgia hate was not allowed. He was even slightly passive aggressive at times, which it seemed some people actually enjoyed. He’d make comments like ‘god I love my wife so much’ or ‘can’t wait to get back out there chasin’ but am really gonna miss my wife and kid’. 

During that first week that Jaycen was home, Kate had taken over the channel with Boone. Even though they both had significant others at this point, they were still a highly chaotic couple when they were together. Boone thought it was hilarious when Kate drove, because she was honestly a bad driver. She sped far too often and hit the brake far too late most of the time. She had no consideration for either truck, so much so that Tyler and Boone were constantly sending her trucks so that she could get her own. They would do all the modifications of course and help make it perfect, but she really needed her own so that she could stop crashing and trashing theirs. 

For the first week, Tyler and Georgia kept Jaycen close to the house. The dogs were absolutely ecstatic to have the bundle of joy around. They constantly followed whoever had Jaycen in their arms, their eyes focused on the boy. Pancake loved to sit next to them on the couch and try to lick Jaycen’s feet. It would make the little boy giggle and squirm to the point he would get the hiccups. 

Grits was very protective of the boy. He would sit by whichever parent had him, almost on top of their feet and survey the room constantly. The red heeler would whine when Jaycen cried and howl when he laughed. Waffles was the one who got right up in Jaycen’s face. She would sit on the arm of the couch, touching her nose to the top of his head or sneaking in a lick to the baby’s face when she thought Georgia or Tyler weren’t looking. 

Georgia wanted so badly to take Jaycen out to the barn, but she knew they should wait. The waiting was hell though. She could see from the kitchen window that Ducati would stare at the house, as if he knew his rider had come into this world. She couldn’t wait to introduce the mustang to his kid. 

“You know how much more I love you? I mean...I loved you before, obviously...but now..it’s just tenfold. You made my dreams come true, Peach.’ Tyler said softly, as he wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder. He peered down at his son in her arms and his heart overflowed with happiness. Georgia hummed and tilted her head, touching her temple to his. She blinked slowly as she looked from the squirmy bundle in her arms, to her proud husband. She leaned back against him, and he began to sway back and forth. 

“I love you too, Tyler. And I love our son too.” She murmured softly, letting him rock her gently. The motion comforted Jaycen, making him close his eyes, and drift off to sleep again. 

“Wish I could sleep as much as him. I think I’ve barely slept the past couple weeks.” Tyler admitted, letting his lips travel to Georgia’s neck. They ghosted over the skin, sending a shiver down her spine, bringing forth a smirk. 

“Wait until he’s older. We won’t get any sleep. We’ll be zombies.” She joked, letting her eyes flutter closed for a moment as she enjoyed the protective presence Tyler offered. She felt so safe in his arms. She would even go so far as to say, her anxiety had decreased by at least half. She had a new brand of anxiety, but it was over caring for Jaycen, not the actual birth. That had scared the shit out of her, but as she’d told Tyler, the pain and stress had been well worth it now that they had their first child. 

“And...now that you’ve done this once...” Tyler began but Georgia stopped him, her words gentle and reassuring to him.

“Yes, Tyler, I do want another kid. And I can’t wait to see Jaycen grow up. I think he’s gonna be a lot like you.” She yawned then and Tyler chuckled. 

“Why do you say that?” Just cause he looks like me, don’t mean he’s gonna be like me. He might be like you and if that’s the case, we’re in for a wild ride. He’ll be a daredevil.” Tyler said. Georgia’s brows furrowed and she turned in his arms, sandwiching Jaycen gently between them. Tyler leaned down to kiss Georgia and then he pressed a light kiss to Jaycen’s forehead. 

“He’s quiet. I know they said you can’t tell much about them now, but I think he’s going to be smart. He just stares and you can tell he’s trying to figure things out.” Georgia explained and Tyler nodded in agreement. 

“Maybe he’s admiring his loving mama, just like his daddy does.” Tyler said, bringing a hand up to caress her cheek, She pressed into his hand and glanced up into sage green. There was warmth there, and a reverence that Georgia would never quite get over. Tyler worshipped the ground she walked on, and there were times she still couldn’t believe that, after all she’d put him through. 

“He’s asleep. We should go put him in his crib.” Georgia said softly, meeting Tyler’s gaze. He agreed and he motioned for her to hand him Jaycen. She did and he took the boy up the stairs, Georgia following closely behind as they snuck up to the nursery to put him down for another nap.

It had warmed up significantly over the next week or so, giving Tyler and Georgia the opportunity they were hoping for. They dressed Jaycen in warm clothes, courtesy of their friends and family, and brought him out to the barn to see the horses. As they made their way down the aisle, Georgia said the name of each horse and pointed. Tyler followed closely behind, watching the little boy’s face light up as each horse stuck their nose out toward him. Georgia was careful, not letting them nibble or get too close, just enough to sniff. They walked out the back of the barn to the pen where Ducati was standing.

As soon as the mustang saw the bundle in Georgia’s arms, he walked toward the three humans and nickered softly. He stuck his nose through the bars of the panel fencing and Georgia let him sniff the little boy. Ducati whinnied quietly and his ears shot forward. There was a softness in the mustang’s eyes that Tyler recognized.

“He knows that’s gonna be his rider one day.” Tyler said, rubbing his hands up and down Georgia’s arms. 

🌪️🛻🛩️⚓

Sam and Jake had been getting a crash course in raising a small human. Because they were able to, they did one feeding a day for Jaycen for that first week, hoping to give Tyler and Georgia some reprieve. Usually in the middle of the day, so that if Tyler had to run to the store he could, and Georgia could sneak out and check on the horses. Ophelia and Lennon had come to help, offering to do whatever Dustin couldn't. 

Tyler had to run to the grain store, leaving Georgia home with Jaycen. Jake elected to go with him, and Sam stayed with Georgia just in case she needed any help. They hopped in Georgia’s truck, as it had the open bed and headed off. 

“This is a pretty nice truck. This is hers?” Jake asked as they headed out the driveway. 

“Yeah, she’s had this since she started rodeoin’. It got trashed last year durin’ chasin’ season. I’ve been workin’ on fixin’ it for the entirety of her pregnancy. Finally got it fixed. No frame issues thank god, but I don’t know that I trust it to tow a trailer anymore after that.” Tyler explained.

“How’d it get trashed?”

“Tornado rolled it. Gee said they were goin’ pretty fast too. She got a concussion from that. Her two friends were in it and they were okay just scared the shit outta them.” 

“That sucks. She still want this truck?” Jake asked. Tyler raised a brow.

“Why, you wanna buy it?” 

“I don’t know. I kinda like it. It’s not a girly truck. It’s nice.” Jake mused. Tyler smirked at him as they pulled down the main street in Stillwater, heading through town to the store. 

‘You’re goin’ home soon aren’t ya? Tyler asked. Jake nodded.

“I do need to get back to work. They wanna do a physical and mental eval. Then they need to see if I can hack it up in a jet again. It’s not the flying I’m worried about at all. That comes second nature to me. It’s the leavin’.”

“You got the dogs though. She’ll be fine.”

“How’d you know Georgia was pregnant?” Jake asked, rolling down the window as Tyler slowed up and turned off the main strip.

“She was real sick one mornin’. Peed on a stick. It was positive, so we made an appointment with Doc Halstead and went through all the shit there. I went to every appointment too, even if I was gonna be chasin’. Rushed home for one cause I didn’t wanna miss seein’ his little heart beat.” Damn, Jake...I really love that kid already.” Tyler turned into the feed store lot and parked in the front. The nice thing about their local store was that they could order by phone or online and they got a notification when it was ready to be picked up so all they had to do was go in and give their phone number. Georgia ordered enough every week for a half a pallet, so they would use the forklift and place it in the back. When Tyler got it home, he used the forks they had for the tractor and lifted it off and placed it in the front of the barn so the only lifting that had to be ever was to put the bags in the grain room.  

“Sam and I have...yuh know...like a lot...and she’s not showing any signs.” Jake said as he was about to get out but Tyler stopped him. One of the employees had seen Tyler and waved him over to the loading dock. They knew by now that he had an order, he barely had to get out of the truck.

“Doc said all women are different and even all pregnancies are different. She said she had one woman who was sick the entire pregnancy, had to be bed ridden for the last trimester and then her next one she kept working and felt fine up until a week before her due date. Said it depends on the environment and how you take care of yourself. I’m a lot healthier than I used to be. Doc said it’s not just the women. Has to do with the guy too.” Tyler explained as he backed the truck to the dock. The employee pulled the tailgate down. 

“Sam and are are pretty good about eating healthy and what not. We exercise, stay fit.” Jake said, as he watched the employee place the half pallet of grain and supplements in the bed carefully.

“So maybe her body is just like ‘everything’s fine’ right now. When you get home if you’re really that worried, have her go to a doctor. You should talk to her about it though.” Tyler said as the employee waved to him and closed the tailgate. 

“I know, I know. We have...sort of. She’s scared to have kids.” Jake said as Tyler drove out and headed back toward home.

“Why?” He asked, glancing at Jake.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s just the fact that she would be carrying around another human for nine months or if it’s because I almost died on that last deployment...”

“I venture t’guess it’s the latter. She doesn’t wanna have a kid, have all the dogs, and then get a letter from the Navy sayin’ hey your husband died flyin’ a jet, sorry. She’s scared to lose you.”

“I get it, but..she knew what she was getting herself into. Her father was an aviator too.”

“But how long was her father an aviator and deployed on missions before she grew up and understood what she could lose? And you said her father just passed not too long ago. I’m sure that weighs heavy on her mind.”

“Yeah she had lost someone else too before that.”

“Well so there’s exactly why she’s so scared. And I’ll bet she doesn’t want that kid growing up without a dad, Jake. I know you’re gonna be a great dad, but you do have to be a little sensitive to her feelings too. Don’t be so hard on yourself either. And damn it, just talk to her, like we’re talkin’ right now. Put everythin’ out there.”

“You always give the best advice.” Jake said, staring at his brother.

“You do too when I need it. That’s what brothers are for though. To give each other advice.” Tyler said and then he turned up the radio slightly, letting the music take over and fill the comfortable silence that had entered the truck. Jake’s thought traveled back to California then as he stared out the window and across the fields of wheat and corn. He had come to wonder if California was really the place for him and if he wanted to have a family out there, or if he wanted to come back home and try to raise a family here. He wanted to be close to Tyler. He’d always been his safety blanket. His balm when things got rough, so why wouldn’t he want to be closer to him and his parents. 

But he had to think about Sam too. California was all she knew, except for going to Harvard  for college, but even then she had gone home as much as she could. It was a discussion that they needed to have and Jake just didn’t know how to start it or where to start with it. He’d been putting it off for so long it felt like a monster feat to try to bring it up but he knew he needed to do it. Maybe talking all of it out before they went back to California would be the best thing, so that they could manage expectations of each other when they got back and really evaluate whether or not this was what they wanted, now that they’d gotten a taste of this life.

When they arrived back at the ranch, Tyler started up the tractor and swapped the bucket fo the forks so that he could move the pallet. Jake directed him and then once he’d placed it down, Jake began moving bags into the grain room. Tyler left the tractor running.

“You mind putting the grain in the bins? I just wanna go drag the arena. It’s my five minutes of peace and quiet to myself.” Tyler said and Jake nodded. He watched as Tyler walked up to the house quickly, meeting Georgia on the porch. She had Jaycen in her arms and the dogs all came piling out of the front door. Grits, the red heeler, peed on the grass by the first step and then ran, leapt up into the cab of the tractor and sat, waiting for his human. Jake observed for a few more minutes, watching his brother kiss his wife on the lips and kiss his newborn son, all bundled in clothes and a blanket, on the forehead. All Jake could think of then was that he did in fact, want this life. He wanted to come home to Sam and a baby. He wanted everything that Tyler was sharing with him. 

He sighed as he saw Tyler step down from the porch and Georgia walked back inside, already looking like a pro with Jaycen in one arm and the door held open for Waffles, the only one of the dogs that wanted to come back in. The little blue dog ran inside and Jake watched Tyler hop into the tractor cab, Grits taking up his place on his human’s lap, and heading off to drag the ring. Jake continued moving the bags of grain and dumping them into their respective barrels. He was almost done when he heard light footsteps coming into the barn. 

“Hey, handsome.” It was Samantha. Jake, as he crumpled up the last bag and put it in the recycling bin, smiled wide. He stepped over to her, dusting his hands off and then wrapping them around her waist. 

“Hey, gorgeous.” He said softly, pressing his lips to hers. They stayed in that moment, lips just touching, no tongues, no passionate forcefulness, just love between them. Jake was the one who broke the kiss and then his green eyes stared into the warm chocolate brown of Sam’s.

“Can we talk about some things before we go home?” He asked, and she nodded, allowing him to guide her out to the back of the barn so that they could speak in peace and private. They leaned against Ducati’s panels, the horse walking over immediately to say hi. Jake reached through the bars and placed his hand on the gelding’s forehead and scratched softly. 

“What do you want to talk about, Jake?” She asked, reaching for one of his hands. He glanced down and then back up at her, eyes full of concern. Sam clocked it immediately and she drew him in closer. “What's got you worried?”

“I’m just wondering...if you feel okay? Feel any different?” He asked and she tilted her head.

“No? Did I do something that has you asking that?”

“No, no, I just...I...we’ve...fuck...we’ve had sex...a lot...without...” Jake stuttered, trying to figure out how to start. Sam took in a sharp breath.

“I don’t feel any different, no. I...actually called a doctor, back home. I was kind of thinking I might be pregnant at this point too but... I just haven’t gotten around to taking a test and...I’m worried that there’s something wrong...”

“Maybe it’s just bad timing? Maybe it’s me? I know they said the meds I was on when I came home, the depression shit...they could affect stuff like that. Either way...maybe when they do my physical eval I can have them run some tests there too.”

“I think that sounds like a great idea...and Jake I know this is hard. Having to leave. I know you want to stay longer.” Sam moved in to put her hands on his chest and she saw his eyes grow misty. His brows furrowed and he touched his forehead to hers then.

“And I know California is your home.” He whispered. 

“It is...it’s yours too. But...Jake...we have many more years ahead of us...and we can decide, together, where we want to live.” Sam said softly, running her fingers up and down his chest.

“Do we? Have many more years?” Jake asked, tone flat.

“What?” She drew back, her stare hardening.

“Do you want this Sam? Do you want me? With everything that comes with me being in the Navy? With the possibility that what happened last time, could happen again? Or that the next time, I don’t come home? Are you really okay with that?” He asked. He felt warm breath on his hand. Ducati was standing, quietly closing his eyes to the sound of them talking. Sam took a few moments, petting the gelding’s neck and thinking over what she wanted to say to Jake.

“No Jake...to be honest the thought of losing you absolutely scares me to death, but...I love you so much that I want to give it a try. I want this. And everything that comes with it. Because I’m realizing that I really don’t wanna ever be without you...and I know...I know you’re going to go back on deployments and I know you’re going to be gone at times, but I know you’re always going to do everything you can to come back to me. To us.” She said and Jake pulled her in close, kissing the top of her head. 

“I just worry...about not being there for any kids we have. I don’t want to miss things...I don’t want...” Jake’s speech drifted off and his eyes glazed over. Sam knew he was thinking of his father, Randall, not Kenny. Jake didn’t want his kids to miss him. 

“Jake...I’m more resilient than you give me credit for sometimes. I’d be okay...and they’d be okay. And imagine how excited they’d be to have you home...”

🌪️🛻🛩️⚓

As always, Tyler and Jake took an hour, and set off in the truck. They always did this when Jake had to leave, though it wouldn’t be for another month or so, but Tyler needed the time alone with his brother. They were at a very different place and time in both of their lives, but the same sentiment. Tyler turned up the radio and even though it was chilly, rolled the windows down. The first song that came on was one that they both sung softly, but the words hung heavy in the air between them, making them both tear up.

“I’ve been thinkin’ back, summers in the woods, didn’t keep time, cause we didn’t know we should, snuck a little whiskey on the back porch, and now I’m needin’ more, so on a saturday don’t call me if you miss, I’m on a southbound train, just take me back to...skippin’ town and skippin’ classes, time passed slow, like ole molasses, the hardest part of movin’ out was movin’ on. And city lights are dim compared to southern skies and open air. The hardest part of lettin’ go was lettin’ on that I’m goin’ goin’ gone.”

They stayed quiet as the song finished, the next one filtering through the speakers, on a slightly happier note.

“I love a first cast when the water's glass and the line starts to run. Or that first sip of a cold beer when the workin’ weeks done. I love the twilight in the mornin’ fore the day wakes up, or the windows down on the first ride in a paid-up truck. And I love a slow down in a beach town with an ocean view, and I love a first fall Saturday trip down to Baton Rouge. And I love a six-string with the stars out and the campfire glow, but girl that don’t even come close ...” Both brothers hummed but they sang the chorus, each having someone in mind. Someone special.

“To the way that it feels when you lean in and kiss me, the way that you dance when you get kinda tipsy, I’m wrapped round your finger like this ring I’m wearing, that look in your eye, girl, when you catch me starin’, and I don’t even know what it is but now that I’ve found, I can’t imagine me livin’ without this back forty view on our piece of ground, watching you watch the sun goin’ down, that’s what my world spins around .” Tyler glanced over at Jake, his lips turning up. Jake’s all knowing smile met his brother’s.

“That little blond barrel racer...” Jake said, tilting his head in approval.

“That little brunette that you hadta have...” Tyler said, shook his head and reached over to pat his brother’s arm.

[uselessheretic]

i feel like i see the thing relatively often where someone will say that ed's not actually that mentally ill, fans are just racist and also somehow this is izzy's fault because the only time he shows symptoms of mental illness is through izzy supposedly. even though in episode four alone we see him talk about suicide ideation, how discontent he is in life, and how burnt out he is.

but when people urge others to add an antiracist lens to their analysis and point out the historical racism within the psychiatric system it seems like?? they think that the only explanation is for ed to just be a lil depressed and that poc who are otherwise perfectly fine are constantly being slapped with extreme diagnoses. which, that is a thing that happens btw. people will call the cops on and forcefully institutionalize black folks who they have disagreements with and weaponize psychiatry against them.

that said, when talking about something like the uneven diagnosis distribution between poc and white people of schizophrenia (since that's something that's been researched) it's not that doctors are talking people who are otherwise perfectly mentally healthy and attributing their behavior to mental illness (although again it does happen.) usually though what people are referring to is how doctors are quick to diagnose poc with schizophrenia before doing their proper diligence and going over the other possibilities including histories of depression, trauma, and abuse. certain traits they exhibit are overemphasized and others minimized or ignored. a black person and white person may show the same exact symptoms, but the doctor will first have the white person tested for PTSD or BPD and try alternative treatment plans, while marking the black person off before considering other possibilities.

it's dangerous and disturbing where poc will be put through a series of medications that do not help, receive no treatment for the actual root of the problem, and then in the process often be criminalized as well since there is a much greater social stigma and forced state control over people diagnosed with schizophrenia.

i just feel like if you're gonna talk about ed and misdiagnosis through a racial lens, it'd be more accurate for him to immediately get diagnosed with something like schizophrenia without the doctor doing anything more to look into him. ignoring things like his history of child abuse and how trauma can cause certain responses. or for something he said metaphorically to be taken as literal where he might describe himself when angry as "the kraken" and the doctor marks that down as a sign of delusions. overemphasizing verbal expressions of angers as signs of violence. hearing ed say "it feels like my boss is out to get me" where he means that the boss keeps picking on him and it feels racially motivated, and the doctor puts on the record that he suffers from paranoia.

also just saying but there is actually a LOT out there you can read about māori mental health and the issues surrounding NZ's system. about 1 in 3 māori adults meet criteria for a mental disorder and this is a result of a racist health system, poverty, and, very importantly, colonialism. but like? i promise you don't need to create your own theories on how ed's identity interacts with mental health as if you're the first person to considered that. kaupapa māori mental health services are literal resources in place to address māori mental health needs within a cultural context. like! it's very cool actually for these things to be made available through hard community work that rejects colonialist psychiatric systems and instead utilizes a holistic and indigenous approach to wellness.

idk it's just so much more complicated than ignoring ed's very real mental illness and writing it off as no biggie. tbh it feels very um american centric as well to make assertions about relationships to mental health and race without ever acknowledging the specific community history here and that this isn't a new conversation. if you want to say you're examining ed through an anticolonialist framework then it would help if you did literally any work to find out what that looks like currently.