#the last gif thou-

[muttmurdock]

[millionsknives]

mods are asleep post vash bts celibacy gif (commission for @aforeffortenjolras)

[personinthepalace]

Cameron Chapman as Anthony Lockwood in Lockwood & Co 1x03 "Doubt Thou the Stars"

[thetriumphantpanda]

The Way You Miss Me | Joel Miller (Chapter Four)

Twenty Years and one apocalypse later and you find yourself in Jackson. Convinced that having found one Miller brother, the likelihood of you finding the other was slim, you were in for the shock of your life.

Pairing | Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings | Mentions of sexual acts including oral but nothing explicit, mentions of violence but again nothing explicit, and that's about it.

Word Count | 4.3K

Authors Note | Gonna be honest this one was a struggle... I've been working on this for over a week and it's certainly not my best work, bit of a filler so I hope it doesn't disappoint but we'll get into more juicy things with these two in upcoming chapters, I promise. Please let me know what you think - pop into my ask and leave some love or leave some comments and love on the post - it all helps!

Spring had well and truly sprung in Jackson. There was a slight warmth to the air which you had welcomed following the harsh winter you’d been through the previous year. The snow had melted, and you were glad to see some of the community out in the gardens preparing the beds for all the fruits and vegetables they would be trying to grow this year. 

It had been a long slog for you and your father since the outbreak. Bouncing from QZ to QZ until the last one had fallen. Then you’d been on your own, crossing state line after state line, settling for short periods of time in settlements before moving on, not sure what you were looking for until you’d fallen right on it, quite literally. 

It was snowing heavily and neither you nor your father could see you hand in front of your face. You’d praised God for the thick coats you’d managed to scavenge from a family home, but you weren’t likely to last much longer in this storm if you didn’t find shelter. Always in the back of your mind was the fact that your father was getting on in age. His knees were not what they used to be, and you’d noticed he was slower than he had once been. You’d both stopped keeping count of birthdays and years. Calendars were hard to come by in during the end of the world, but you knew it had been at least 20 years. He’d been several years older than Joel at the time of the outbreak and you both thought he was pushing sixty-seven or sixty-eight now.

Trailing through the snow you could slowly start to make out a huge gate with a perimeter around it. Turning back to yell out to your father that shelter was ahead you found him hunched in the snow on his knees. 

“Oh my God!” You’d exclaimed but the sound of the wind whipping the snow had covered it up. 

You ran as fast as you could back to him, looping your arm under his elbow to drag him up, “Come on dad, there’s a settlement up ahead, it’s not far I promise.” 

“Darlin’, just leave me, go on ahead and come back for me with help.” 

You were ashamed to admit that you had considered it. He was a heavy man, the years of travelling and trying to keep you both alive had taken its toll on both of you, but you remembered all the things he’d done for you up until this point and it wasn’t an option. He was coming with you or you’d both freeze to death in the storm. 

“Come on, just stand up for me,” You begged, “I promise we’ll be there in less than five minutes, please dad.” 

You felt him push himself up, using you to steady himself once he’d stood. You point out in front of you to show him the gate you spotted, “It’s just up there, can you see it?”  He nodded and keeping a firm grip on your arm you’d continued trekking through the snow to the gate in front of you. It was imposing and huge, you couldn’t see how far the walls went around due to the snow, but the fact that you could see three figures standing on the top, you’d bet inside was a large community. 

“What do you want?!” One of the guards had shouted down to you through the storm. 

“Me and my father, we just need somewhere to ride out the storm!” You’d called back, “We don’t need to stay, just somewhere warm until this passes.” 

You could see the man who had shouted down to you was talking to the other guard who was stood next to him before he made a signal for someone below him to open the gate. Relief flooded over you, in much the same way it did for your father who promptly collapsed to his knees again. 

You did the same as before, looping an arm to try and lift him up but this time he was a dead weight. You could see two figures running through the snow to help you, watching as they picked your father up and rushed him through the main gates. You didn’t take in the surroundings as you followed as quickly as you could behind the figures who were carrying your father, only stopping once they’d pushed through the doors of a makeshift hospital and put him onto a bed. 

There was silence as they unzipped his coat and pulled down the scarf he had wrapped around the lower part of his face to shield his skin from the cold when one of them stopped dead and turned around to you. 

“Tommy fucking Miller?!” 

“Holy fuckin’ shit.” 

Within seconds you were enveloped into the strongest hug you’d been given in your life and for the first time since the outbreak began you relaxed a little, returning the strong hug back to him. 

“How the hell did you get all the way up here?” He asked, releasing you, leaving his friend to care for your father. 

“I could ask the same thing about you.” You replied, “It’s a long fucking story.” 

At that moment, you’d been tempted to ask about Joel. 20 years and the end of the fucking world and that man was still front and center in your mind. You had almost opened your mouth to ask when your father’s coughing pulled you from your conversation. You rushed to the bed and took hold of his hand as he looked up at you. 

“Sorry Darlin’,” He’d spoken softly, “Guess I needed a rest.” 

You’d laughed, mainly through the sheer amount of adrenaline working through your veins and not because you found it funny, “You’ll never guess who we’ve managed to find?” You’d spoken, taking hold of his hand before shifting a little to reveal Tommy behind you. 

“Well I’ll never,” your father had spoken, trying to lift himself up in the bed to get a better look, “Never in my life did I think Tommy Miller would come to my rescue.” 

“I can’t believe you’re still going, old man.” Was Tommy’s response. 

That had been months ago and despite saying you’d leave once the storm had passed, the chance at a semi-normal life for the two of you and the fact that you’d found the only friend you thought you had left was enough to make you stay. 

“Good morning, sunshine.” Tommy had greeted a few moments after you’d knocked on his front door. 

“Morning Tommy,” You replied, “What’s on the agenda today?” 

“I need someone to help me scout a new trail down to the power station and back,” He’d explained as you made your way to the stables, “It’ll make life a lot easier for the guys trying to get it back up to 100% but I wanted to check it first.” 

In the few short months, you’d been at Jackson you’d not quite found your place in it. Your father had finally been able to retire, spending his days in the rec hall, the church or the bar with the older elderly population, but you’d bounced around from job to job trying to find the right fit. 

The school had been your natural first choice, you’d been three weeks into your history master’s degree when the outbreak had happened so thought teaching history would be good for you, until you realized you had despised most children even before the infected took over the world, so you swiftly packed that in. You’d volunteered to help much out the horses and learn about veterinary care, but you hadn’t particularly clicked with any of the other people who had worked there, so you’d settled for following Tommy around, helping with odds and ends where you could. 

Once the horses were saddled up and you were out on the trail you realized what a beautiful day it was. The sky was clear, and it was warm enough to forgo the large jacket you’d been wearing through the winter for something lighter. Maria had packed enough food for the both of you to enjoy on the trail later and as always, Tommy had his hip flask with him, hopefully filled with liquid from one of the pre-outbreak bottles you knew he kept at the back of the cupboard at home. 

“So, I have something I need to tell you.” Tommy had admitted when you’d tied the horses up to drink and take a break. 

“That’s not ominous at all.” You’d replied, gratefully taking the hip flask from him to take a sip. 

“I didn’t tell you at the time because it wasn’t meant to be permanent,” Tommy started, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “But now it is permanent I wanted you to hear it from me.” 

“Okay, the suspense is killing me Miller, what’s going on?” 

“Joel is back.” 

You hadn’t realized you’d stopped breathing until you sucked in a shaky breath. Suddenly you couldn’t hear the birds or the running of the stream next to you. All you could hear was the blood pumping in your own ears. Joel. Joel was alive. 

“What do you mean, he’s back?” You asked. 

“He was here over the winter, maybe a week after you arrived but he was gone the next day, so I didn’t think it was worth mentioning, not with your dad and everything, but yeah, he’s back.” 

“Does he know we’re here?” 

Tommy shook his head, “Honestly Sunshine he’s been here less than two days, so we thought we’d let him get settled, but Maria is going to talk to him whilst we’re out here.” 

Tommy had been closed off about Joel since you’d arrived in Jackson. He’d mentioned that they’d run in the same circle for a while until he’d broken off and joined the Fireflies and Joel had ended up in Boston. He’d told you Sarah had died on outbreak day but was vague with the details and that had been about it. You’d not wanted to press for any more information, trying to tell yourself that it wouldn’t help anyway. You’d found one Miller brother, there was a slim chance of finding the other during the end of the world. 

“I can’t believe he’s here.” 

“I have to warn you sunshine,” Tommy began, “He ain’t the same man he was before all this.” 

You nodded, “Are any of us?” 

Tommy chuckled, “I don’t think you’ve changed much at all,” He admitted, “I don’t know how you’ve managed it but you’re still this beacon of joy.”  An involuntary snort left your nose, “I’ve done shitty things to keep myself alive Tommy, shitty things to people who didn’t deserve to have shitty things done them, but if you let that consume you, what’s the point of any of this?” 

“I just don’t want you to be disappointed.” Tommy sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

“Twenty years is a long time when you’re pretty sure someone is dead, I think I mourned for whatever it was we had long ago, so please don’t worry about me Tommy, I’ll be fine.” 

***

Back in Jackson, Joel was sat at the dining table in his new home, Maria sat across from him sipping from a cup of coffee. She’d brought it over for him, something from Tommy’s stash apparently. It was bitter but it had been a long time since he’d tasted his favourite drink so despite it burning down his throat, he followed Maria and took a sip of his own. 

“How are you settling in?” She asked. 

“We’re fine.” 

Maria nodded. She realized Joel didn’t trust her and she understood. If he was going to stay here for good, it would take some time for him to warm up to her. She still couldn’t understand why she had to be the one to tell him what was going on. She had become much closer to you than she could ever see herself becoming to Joel, but Tommy had insisted. Something about the female intuition being better for him in situations like this. 

“Listen, I’m not going to beat around the bush, Tommy wanted me to talk to you about something.” 

“I gathered.” 

Maria sighed, “I don’t really know much about it, but he told me there was someone you knew, before the outbreak. A girl.” 

Joel had been avoiding her eye contact up until this point, but his eyes shot to hers in that moment. Surely, she couldn’t be talking about you. He’d accepted long ago in those first few months that you were gone. Ripped apart by infected or shot by FEDRA before you could get somewhere safe. It was easier that way. Easier to kill you off in his mind so he hadn’t spent the last twenty years of his life mourning not just his daughter but the woman that had made him feel alive for the first time in years. 

“Said you had something going over the summer before all this happened,” He could see she was struggling, “Well anyway, Tommy wanted me to tell you that she’s here, been here a while actually, she and her father arrived probably a week before you rolled in the first time.” 

Joel tried not to let him emotion show but he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Not only had you made it through the end of the world but so had your old man. Of all the people he had expected to find here it hadn’t been either of you. 

“Tommy is talking to her today as well so you both know, we didn’t want you to just run into each other and have the shock of your life, Tommy thought it might bring on some kind of heart attack in you and one baby is enough for us right now, we couldn’t handle Ellie as well.”  He knew she was trying to make light of the situation and under any other circumstance he probably would have laughed but he was having a hard time keeping his panic under control. He tried to ground himself, taking deep breaths into his chest. What would you look like now? Had the years of hardship been kind to you? Would you have fine lines at the edge of your eyes like he’d always imagined you would from all your smiling? Would you have scars? What had you both done to keep each other alive until now? All questions he was dying to ask you, but no. He couldn’t do this. 

Ellie was enough. One person to rely on him. He’d done unspeakable things to get them here and he couldn’t have someone else to rely on him. Someone else to keep safe. Even in the walls of Jackson where you could almost convince yourself the last twenty years hadn’t happened. He couldn’t be the man he wanted to be for you all those years ago. 

“Well, I appreciate you tellin’ me Maria,” He spoke finally, “But that was a long time ago and I got other things to be focusing on now.” 

“Of course,” Maria was standing up to leave, “I best be going, but maybe you should consider bringing Ellie to the bar tonight, it’s been a couple of days and I’m sure the rest of the community would like to meet the new arrivals.” 

He waved her off with a promise they’d think about it, silently knowing he wouldn’t be going. 

“So we’re going right?” He heard Ellie’s voice at the top of the stairs, “I’ve always wanted to go to a bar.”  “What did I tell you about eavesdroppin’?” 

***

You’d been shooting back whiskey since you’d arrived at the bar and it was now settling in your stomach and going straight to your head. Your father was sat opposite you, facing the door. You’d not told him about Joel being here, why you’d kept it to yourself you weren’t sure, but Tommy had explained on the ride back that Maria was going to invite him to the bar that night, get him to do the rounds and meet everyone that he could. 

You’d almost considered staying home, but your father had insisted on bringing you out and you knew if Joel was here to stay you couldn’t avoid him forever. You needed to get this over with as soon as you could. That didn’t stop the dull ache of anxiety settling in your chest. 

Every time the door opened; you’d watch your father’s expression for the telltale sign that it was Joel that had walked in. About an hour ago a flash of recognition had flashed across his face, but it had just been Mr Grady from the house across from yours. They’d had some idle chatter before the rest of Mr Grady’s family had joined you at the table where they’d been sat for a while. 

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Your father asked. 

“Hmmm?” You hummed in reply. 

“Paul just asked you a question,” He said, pointing to Mr Grady, “And you were miles away.”  “Oh, sorry,” you apologized, “I guess my head is somewhere else tonight, what did you ask?” 

“How was the trail today?”  “It was fine, clear apart from some fallen trees but it won’t take much to clear them, no signs of infected or raiders either.” 

“Good, it’ll be good for the lads to have an easier way to get down every day.” 

You’d nodded, knocking back the last of your whiskey and standing up before the front door creaked open. You almost knew what to expect before you looked to your father who looked almost like he was about to pass out. You turned around, glass in hand and there he was. Joel Miller in all his glory. 

He was still tall and imposing, broad in the shoulders, but his hair and beard had a spattering of grey hair and the expression on his face was hard, cold even. Stood next to him was a girl, surely no older than Sarah would have been when you’d last seen her. She had a look of wonder on her face as she took in the bar, the look of wonder every person who hadn’t been around before had when they saw something from the time before this. 

You’d been fine until Joel’s eyes snapped to yours. Your breath hitched in your throat and the glass you’d been holding fell and smashed on the floor, causing the low chatter to stop around the bar. Everyone was looking at you now, “Sorry.” You muttered, dropping to your knees to pick up the larger pieces of glass, more for a distraction than anything else. 

By the time you’d stood up and sat back down in your seat, Joel was at the bar with Tommy and the young girl. Even with his brother you could tell he was tense. Tommy hadn’t been lying when he said he was different. 

You’d been half listening when your father had explained that the two of you had lived close to Joel and worked together before everything went down, keeping your eyes trained on his back as he gladly accepted a glass of whiskey from Shane behind the bar. Tommy shot you a look over his shoulder whilst Joel took a drink, somewhere between an apology and a questioning look as to whether you were alright. You nodded softly in his direction that you were fine, or as fine as you could be under the circumstances. 

Mr Grady and his family left pretty quickly after that, something about his grandson being out on patrol early, leaving just you and you father at the table. 

“If anyone was gonna survive this thing it was always going to be that man,” Your father mused, sipping the last of his drink, “Just didn’t think he’d ever find this place.” 

You were half listening to him, giving him a nod in reply as you watched Tommy point to your table. You could have sworn Joel shook his head in response, but you wouldn’t bet money on it but then Tommy was pulling the open lapel of his jacket and turning him round, pushing at the small of his back towards your table. 

Within seconds, Tommy, Joel and the nameless girl were stood by your table, and you thought once you might pass out again. The last time you’d seen Joel had been the night before the outbreak. You’d snuck out to wish him a happy birthday which had of course lead to him splitting you open in the back of his truck, pulling three orgasms from you before you’d sucked him off and let him cum down your throat. He’d kissed you goodbye and promised to see you that weekend and that had been the last of it. 

“If it ain’t Joel Miller,” Your father greeted, struggling in his old age to stand from his chair, extending his hand out to him which he took, “Welcome back, you old man.”

“It’s good to see you again,” Joel replied, refusing to look at you, “Of all the people I thought to see here with my brother I’ve gotta admit I didn’t think it would be you.” 

Your father was still standing, using his hands to steady himself on the table, “Can’t say I can take much of the credit, it’s all thanks to this one.” He nodded his head towards you. 

Finally, he was looking at you. You didn’t really know what you’d expected but he was looking at you like he’d never really seen you before, despite knowing the most intimate parts of you and that hurt. 

“Hi Joel,” You greeted quietly, holding out your hand which he took just long enough to give your hand a squeeze before letting you go like he’d been disgusted at touching you, “It’s good to see you again.” 

He stared at you for what felt like forever until the girl next to him piped up in conversation, “So, can I have a drink?” 

“No, you cannot.” Joel was quick answer, “You’re not old enough.” 

“Dude, c’mon, it’s the fuckin’ apocalypse, just a little one.” 

“Ellie, I said no.” 

She looked like she was going to challenge him for a second but decided against it, then she looked to you, “How do you guys know each other?” 

You went to open your mouth but your father cut in, “We used to work together, started my business and these guys came along to help with everything, and my girl here used to look after Joel’s daughter in the evenings before she went off to study.” 

You watched Joel tense when your father mentioned Sarah, twenty years was never enough time to get over losing your first born.  

“I’m Ellie, nice to meet you.” She directed in your direction. 

You smiled warmly at her, you already liked this girl, whoever she was to Joel, “It’s lovely to meet you, Ellie.” 

“Well, it’s been good to see you Joel, hopefully we’ll see you both around a bit more, but I think it’s time for this one to get me home.” 

Silently thanking your father for saving you anymore embarrassment you quickly put your jacket on, rounding the table to loop your arm in his to escort him home. He was perfectly capable of doing it all on his own, but the two of you liked to be as close to each other as possible since his scare in the snow and after years of him looking after you it was only right you were starting to repay the favour now. 

“Goodnight.” You spoke softly to Joel as you walked past him, stopping a few seconds near Tommy to agree to help him with something the following day before leaving. 

***

Later that night, when Joel had finally gone to bed his mind was racing. He and Ellie had stayed just long enough at the bar to not seem rude before he made his excuse and took them both home. She’d gone up the stairs to her room leaving him at the kitchen table with bottle of whiskey Tommy had given him from his stash. 

You hadn’t really changed at all. You’d aged, but even during the end of the fucking world you’d managed to do it gracefully. The smile lines he’d drawn in his mind were exactly where he’d thought they’d be, your hair had a small spattering of greys in it and there was a scar that sliced through your top lip which told him however you’d managed to survive it hadn’t been easy. But you were still you, with those big, beautiful eyes he’d remembered and your soft voice that could have begged him for anything and he’d have given it to you. 

He certainly wasn’t the same man, not the man you’d wanted all those years ago on his back porch in the heat. He was old, damaged and had more emotional baggage now than he had back then. He knew he had to stay away from you, he couldn’t allow himself to give into what he really wanted because he knew, deep down, that he would fail. He couldn’t be the romantic man he’d been before, lying you down and spending hours pulling sounds of pleasure from you in his bed, wishing that he could take you out and hold your hand for everyone to see but knowing he couldn’t. 

Things were very different now and that would just mean having to keep his distance, he couldn’t risk another attachment, Ellie was enough for him. If only he’d known that a few streets over you were lying in your bed thinking the exact opposite, thinking about how you could get as close to him as possible and rekindle what you’d had, then he’d have known it was all over before it had even begun. 

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[angelfoodscake]

was randomly motivated to animate tonight

[borntoocry]

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬; 𝐩𝐭 𝟓

college Ellie au 

part 5/? 

pairing: Ellie williams x fem!latina oc

warnings: none, just a smidge of smut! 

not prood read, yall know this... part 4

I woke up with an instant urge to throw up. My eyes shot open and all of the acid rumbling in my stomach through the night crept up my throat. I shot up and quickly looked around in search for a trashcan. It was sitting to my right and I grabbed it, shoving my head deep inside. I hadn’t thought about Sam, or the possibility of someone lying beside me, but as a cry spiraled out of me and echoed around my damp trashcan, I remembered I was in my dorm, with a roommate who might’ve been in the room, and a body weighing down my left side. 

I didn’t remember a lot from the night before besides crying at my photoshoot with Jorge and drinking myself into oblivion. I didn’t remember coming back home, though. But as I turned my head to the left, fragments of how I returned seeped back into my brain. Ellie was who I called to pick me up, and Ellie was the one who helped me get into bed. Yet no recollection of making up was flooding back into my broken memory. 

Ellie’s eyes were open wide, traveling around the bed and especially up at me seconds after I vomited out a lung. She didn’t smile and at first I wondered why, but as I sucked in a breath, I realized my face was contorted into a frown and a prickling set of eyebrows. 

“Good morning,” she whispered, slowly pushing away the covers to sit up. I nodded but said nothing more, as I had thought we were still mad at one another. No one sober could talk an argument out with a heavily intoxicated individual. It would make no sense. “I see we’re mad.” 

I nodded. 

“Silent treatment too? Two-in-one I see,” she continued. 

I shook my head. “I just threw up and every time I even think about opening my mouth, I want to throw up again so give me a—“ 

And I placed my head into my trashcan and threw up as much alcohol as I could. The weight next to me was lifted and returned with a water bottle waving around in front of my face. 

Ellie took the trashcan away from me and took it to the bathroom. I could hear the water running for a couple of minutes, along with the sound of gags every other minute. I stared at the wall in a slightly drunken state, thinking about nothing one second and feeling bad for having Ellie the next. I didn’t want her being the one having to throw out my vomit—it was vile. 

I slowly climbed out of bed and waddled to the bathroom. I pushed the door open and peeped my head in. I looked at her washing out my trashcan with a pair of gloves and an old sponge. 

“You didn’t have to. It’s my throw-up, Ellie.” 

She shrugged and placed the clean can on the floor. She sat down and placed her hands between her open legs. “It’s alright. You would’ve thrown up all over the bathroom and would take fucking forever cleaning up. I’d rather save you the trouble.” 

“Well you were about to throw up yourself, so…” 

“God, let’s just shut the hell up about… this. I will end up… fucking…” 

“You can’t even say it now!” I exclaimed, as if seconds before I wasn’t questioning her presence. 

“Yeah because it’s been said like fifty fucking times in the span of five minutes.” 

“Okay,” I laughed. “We won’t say that word anymore.” 

She nodded and helped herself up from the floor, grunting as she patted herself clean. She looked me up and down, searching for any cases of severe sickness. All I looked like, however, was a pale monster with purple eye-bags. I smelled of vomit, too. 

“You alright?,” she asked, her body nearing mine and her hand lifting up to meet my shoulder. 

I turned from her and looked down at her pale and veiny hand. If she smelled my breath she would have left and never looked back, so I whispered, “I’m dying but I’ll take a shower and see if it helps.” 

She nodded and kissed my temple. “I’ll go buy you some greasy breakfast with a couple hangover remedies, alright. I’ll be back in a minute.” 

I nodded and moved out of the way. I grabbed her arm at the last minute before her body fully entered the main room. “McDonalds?” I asked. She nodded. “Thank you.” 

“We’ll talk when we get back, alright? I haven’t forgotten.” 

When she left, I took off my clothes and hopped into my steaming shower. I stood underneath the running water for as long as I could, thinking about what I’d say to Ellie about the situation the day before. That I didn’t like Jorge—he wasn’t my type. I was a lesbian and even if I wasn’t, Jorge would never be my type. I scratched that and continued creating an imaginary list that ran as long as my hair did. 

After fifteen minutes of steadily washing myself, I turned off the water and stepped out. The shower did little to nothing, but I no longer smelled of vomit. 

I draped on my robe, washed my teeth and face, and held my stomach on the way out of the bathroom. A trail of steam followed me into the main room and I was instantly met with the smell of McDonald’s breakfast, a large Sprite, coffee, and an array of Pedialyte’s on my bed. 

I huffed as I looked at Ellie and her stupid face. “I want to hate you so bad right now.” 

She laughed and walked over to where I was—hovering over my desk where my clothes were draped over my chair. “Put some clothes on and meet me on your bed.” 

I smiled at myself—a dumb smile that took over half of my face. A smile accompanied by hot scarlet blood smothering my face and dripping down to my feet. The blush swallowed me as I changed and I forgot all about the list I tried making in the shower. I was bound to screw up my words and give her a response that was beyond understandable. 

I scurried across the floor with a heavy beating heart and crawled onto my bed, across from Ellie. I picked up the grape flavored Pedialyte and unscrewed it, gently sipping it like 90 year-old grandma. Ellie looked at me with sympathy, as if I was truly a sick bastard, not just a hungover nineteen year-old girl. 

“You hungry?,” she asked. 

I nodded and grabbed the greasy McDonald’s bag. I picked out a hash brown and brought it up to my lips, pushing my smile down as the grease clung to my lips. I was going to be a happy and sober person in a few hours and the thought was enlightening. 

“We can eat before we talk?” 

I shrugged. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go through another moment without speaking to her about our argument. It was severe and us waking up with one another, laughing, smiling, and eating seemed odd. I was yet to be given an explanation to how she woke up beside me and how I was able to get into her car is I was supposedly angry. 

“I think we should talk before,” I said. “This situation has been weighing down on me and I just want to talk about it.” 

She sighed and nodded. “Okay. Good. Where do we start?” 

I sucked my lip into my mouth, trying to find both a place to start and words to accompany it. I only knew that I had to respond and soon, or else we’d be stuck in a silent room with cold food. 

I sucked in a deep breath and said, “I’m sorry for what I said about Jorge and him sleeping with me. I didn’t mean it and I only said it out of anger. I know it made you mad and uncomfortable and I shouldn’t have said it but you have to understand that I was frustrated that you didn’t believe me when I said nothing was ‘special’ about our friendship.” 

Ellie looked at me with eyes that seemed to get smaller as the seconds passed. There was a visible knot in her throat that bobbed about as I allowed my apology to seep in. She swallowed it down a short minute later and nodded. 

“I’m sorry that I didn’t believe you,” she said, loud enough for me to hear but with a mousy tone that let me know she was just as scared as I was. “I trust you, Valeria, but I didn’t want you to leave me for Jorge. I didn’t know that you were lesbian and I didn’t want to assume, so my thoughts got the best of me. You never told me and I’m not saying you were obligated to, but I can’t lie and tell you that it wouldn’t have calmed the overthinking.” 

I sighed and shut my eyes, dropping my aching head into my hands. “I should have told you, it was an important piece of information. I just thought that if I liked you, nothing else would matter. And to a certain extent, sexuality doesn’t matter, but I know that you’re strictly girls and the thought of someone you’re speaking to being interested in some guy is terrifying. The thought is there even if you trust the person. I understand and I should have thought about it. It’s just that coming out is scary, even if it is to someone you like. And even if that person is a gay girl.” 

She chuckled. “No, I know. I’m sorry this got out of hand, Val. We should have talked it out before you left, it might’ve stopped you from getting drunk out of your mind.” 

I laughed. “No it wouldn’t have, I would have still gotten drunk, I just would have invited you.” 

“Agh,” she answered, “right. You fucker.” 

I brought my hash brown up to my lips and ate it in less than a minute. I was hungry and hungover and as Ellie ate her food, I couldn’t fight off the horniness finding its way into my body. I was three h’s and the last H was not holy. She just looked so good—eating her food and sipping on her orange juice with only a white tank top and boxers. She had removed her pants, sometime within my dissociation as I put on my clothes. I was lucky I hadn’t noticed until now, or else I wouldn’t have talked our argument out, I would have just jumped her bones. 

I ate my breakfast in silence. I watched Ellie watch me with the same lustful eyes I held. I could tell she was just as horny as I was, if not more. She was a horny being that ran on make-out sessions and boob fondling. I wasn’t quite ready to have sex, as it seemed like too much after barely finding my way out of the closet. It wasn’t only the thought of having sex with a girl, it was having sex in general. I had never had sex with anyone before, and coming out, unleashing my true inner character, changing my style to fit who I now was, kissing a girl and romantically speaking to her was more than I could take. So, I settled on making out with a little bit of boob fondling and humping. It was what I could handle. 

Until now. I wasn’t sure if I was seeing through different eyes or feeling through a different body, but I wanted to do more than just grab her boob and have her kiss down to my chest, or push my hips down until she felt my throbbing cunt against her thigh. 

“Mm?” Ellie hummed, pulling me out of my head. “You alright?” 

I shrugged. I sipped on my Sprite and tried not to shred the straw with my teeth. “You look really good right now.” 

She huffed with a smile piercing into her cheeks. “You think so? I look like I just got out of bed.” 

“What’s bad about that? It’s a compliment.” 

“You look great too,” she said in a low tone.

“Lying is bad, God doesn’t like sinners.” 

Her eyes went wide, sarcasm already leaking from her pores. “Oh no! I’m a sinner,” she mocked. “I’ve been one my entire life, baby, I don’t give a shit about a little sinning.” 

“Hm.” 

“What?” 

“You know what I heard about curing hangovers?” 

“What?,” she asked. 

“Having sex is a quick fix. Flushes out all the toxins or something,” I answered as I began crawling over to her, placing my drink on my desk before finding a place between her legs. She quickly set her orange juice down and grabbed my hips, encouraging me to keep going. 

And I did. I grabbed her face in my hands and crushed my lips into hers. I nipped her lips and watched it spring back to normal with a deep sigh trickling out of Ellie’s mouth. One of her hands lifted up to my breast and she palmed it, earning a groan from my end. Her fingers twisted my nipple that seemed to pierce through my shirt. I was melting into her by the way my back arched and I began falling onto her. The simple twisting and pulling of my nipple had be wetter than a goddamn waterpark, how on earth could I handle her fingers inside of me? 

Ellie caressed my hip and whispered into my ear, “C’mon princess, I have something else for you.” My breath shook and I sat up, moving my legs around so I straddled her thigh and my sweating face was in full view. She smiled and fiddled with the hem of my shirt. “Can I take this off?,” she asked. 

I nodded. She instantly pulled off my shirt, throwing it onto the mattress, as far from us as possible. Her hands roamed my thighs and hips, up my skin and along my breasts. My breath hitched and Ellie could tell—her low chuckle sounded like drums in my ears. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” she whispered. She pulled me closer to her and pressed her lips onto my abdomen. I sucked in as much air as I could in one second. I couldn’t believe her lips were on my stomach, caressing my skin like a satin sheet. Her tongue slid across the expanse of my stomach and lingered underneath my breast. “I’m going to eat you up, Val, I swear. You are so… so…” 

“Cat got your ton—“ 

Her lips encapsulated my nipple and I let out a harsh moan. I doubled over and placed my hands into her hair, pulling as much as I could. She moaned onto my breast, the vibrations rattling through my core. I was biting down onto my lip as best as I could, but the moans threatening to come out were beating me to pieces. 

“You fucker,” I rasped as she twirled her tongue around my nipple. “You think this is so funny, huh?” 

“Mhm,” she said with a pop. She pulled me down so my cunt was rubbing against her bare thigh. “You wanna be smart, so I’ll give you a reason not to be.” 

I placed my thumb on her chin, jutting it upward so I could take a look at her throat. I planted my lips onto her throat and sucked. Between kisses and licks and sucks, I said, “You’re only giving me more reasons to fight with you.” 

“Oh yeah?” She asked. 

“Mhm,” I answered. This motivated her to push my hips down and urge me to move my body along her thigh. I answered with the moving of my hips and the pressing down of my cunt against her. I bit down on my lip and silently moaned. “Fuck,” I would say between movements, “I need these off right now.” 

“Then get up baby, let me take them off.” 

I stood up and let Ellie pull both my shorts off. But as soon as my shorts hit my thighs, a rattling doorknob echoed through the room. I almost screamed. Sam was back and I was topless and in a pair of underwear.

“Is it Sam?” Ellie whispered. 

I nodded and lifted up my shorts. Ellie pulled me into her as she reached over to get my shirt and once she did so, she plopped me onto the mattress and helped me pull it on. 

The door pushed open and Ellie and I tried to act as normal as possible. Sam looked at me first, then at Ellie. “I didn’t know you had friends.” 

“Yeah,” I muttered. “I have two.” 

She nodded. “I’m Sam,” she told Ellie. 

“I’m Ellie,” she answered. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

Sam walked to her side of the room and settled down. “Are you guys going to be here all day?” She asked. No rudeness seeped out of her words, one curiosity. Yet Ellie wanted to speak up. 

“We might, does that bother you?” 

Sam stopped packing and looked over at us. “Just asking, Ellie. I might be gone again in a few, just wanted to know if I could come back with my boyfriend for the night without interrupting anything.” 

Ellie looked over at me and I shrugged. She returned to Sam and said, “We’ll be gone when you come back. She’ll probably be back on Monday.” 

“Cool.” 

“You’ll probably be seeing more of her,” I quipped. 

“Cool,” Sam said again. “Is she your girlfriend or something?” 

“We’re talking,” I answered quickly. Ellie pinched my thigh and I smiled. It felt good telling someone other than Jorge that I was talking to Ellie. 

Sam nodded. “I didn’t know you were gay. That’s cool.” 

“Thanks.” 

I looked over at Ellie and dropped my head onto her shoulder. She pinched my side and patted over my legs. “I liked that,” she whispered with a laugh. “Now let’s go to my dorm to finish what you, miss, started.” 

[kent-farm]

—Lois to her sons about Clark, Superman and Lois, “O Mother, Where Art Thou?” (Quote)/“Last Sons of Krypton”

[mortem0]

[akirayuri]

My collective thoughts throughout my overall re-watch

Hayakawa Aki | Chainsaw Man ep 11.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 11: It's Coming

Summary: Things have begun to shift in your developing relationship with your pack. Unfortunately, nature has the worst timing in the world. 

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Suggestive content, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, medical stuff, plenty of fluff.

A/N: I wrote like 90% of this chapter on my phone so please forgive any weird typos. I'm super excited for this one and this whole part really. Lots of good stuff coming up!!

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

At first you’re not quite sure what pulled you from sleep. You’re warm and more comfortable than you have been in a long time, despite the dull throbbing between your thighs. The pillow against your back shifts, a chill settling in as some of the warmth disappears. 

You blink your eyes open, squinting against the harsh blue light of a phone screen. Price lets out a quiet groan, swiping at something before settling his phone back on the nightstand in front of you. His arms wrap back around your middle, his face pressing into the back of your neck as he settles against you again. 

It was his phone vibrating that had woken you, pulling you from the gentle arms of sleep. It’s still dark out, far too early to be up and getting phone calls, especially on a Sunday morning. You wonder how often John actually gets to sleep, between his job and everything he does when he’s not away. You’re understanding the couch in his office more and more now. 

“Go back to sleep.” He murmurs, a quiet rumbling vibrating against your back as he purrs.

You don’t need to be told twice, snuggling down under the covers again, letting your eyes close. 

You wake a while later alone. It’s daylight finally, the sunlight coming through the window lighting the room. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling Price’s scent. It still smells a bit like arousal and sex in the room, both of your scents heavy in the air. They blend together surprisingly well, Price’s musky woody scent mixing with the sweetness of your own scent. It makes an intoxicating aroma of alpha and omega. 

Price comes out of the bathroom, slipping back under the covers. You curl up against his side, laying your head on his chest as he wraps an arm around you. 

“Morning.” He murmurs, voice heavy with sleep still. 

You hum in response, resting your head over his heart. 

“How do you feel?” He asks, his fingers trailing your bare back. 

“A bit sore.” You say, acknowledging the throbbing between your legs. “Not as bad as I thought I might.” 

Price huffs out a laugh. “It shouldn’t hurt, not if you know what you’re doing.” 

You hum again, the knowledge that he’s very experienced coming to the forefront of your mind. Even if it has been two years, you can imagine him when he was younger, the kind of experiences he must have had. Omegas and barrack bunnies and all sorts of women probably fawned over him. 

“You’re thinking too much.” He says quietly, eyes closed as he lays there with you. 

You’re starting to think he might be able to read your mind. 

“Can I ask you something? Something...personal?” You ask, tilting your head up to look at him. 

He cracks an eye open to stare down at you. “Don’t think you can get much more personal than we already are.” His lips twitch up in a smile. “‘Course, you can ask me anything.” 

“When was the last time you helped an omega through a heat?” You ask, listening to the steady thump of his heart under your ear. 

“Years ago. Well over a decade ago.” He says, voice still thick and raspy with sleep. He clears his throat, a hand settling on your waist. “Back when I was still a Sergeant. I had the idea back then of settling down, finding an omega and having my own pack. Had a few on and off relationships. Then I started getting sent off on more and more dangerous missions. I realized my skill set and my purpose, and gave up the idea of having an omega. I couldn’t stand the thought of putting them through that, if something happened to me. I’ve seen what losing an alpha does to an omega firsthand too many times.” 

A frown tugs at your brows as you lay there against his chest. You know the risk of them dying is high. The CIA had spent ample time warning you of that risk, telling you about how dangerous their lives are and how every assignment, every deployment, could be their last. They could be gone for weeks at a time, months at a time, and they could go and not come back. They know that every time they leave for an assignment it could be their last, and now you’ll be stuck behind knowing they might not be coming back. 

You’ve heard about omegas that have lost their alphas, how damaging it can be. It’s not something you’re taught at the institute. That’s not something you’re supposed to think about, something you shouldn’t have to think about. 

“What’s eating you?” Price asks softly, his finger stroking the pinched skin between your brows. 

You shift against his side, leaning more on his chest as you look up at him. “What if you don’t come back?” 

His smile is a bit grim as he stares up at you, his fingers trailing across your face. “I won’t lie and say that’s not a risk. There’s always a chance.” His fingers trail down your arm to rest on your hand where it’s pressed flat against his chest. “We’re here for a reason. We are the best at what we do.” 

He pauses as your hand moves, your gaze lowering from his as you trace one of the scars on his clavicle. You can only imagine what caused it. A knife? Shrapnel? Where was he and what was he doing when he got it? You might never be able to know all the details. So many secrets, so much you can’t know. 

John wraps his arms around you, easing you off his chest as he rolls you onto your back. You stare up at him as he hovers over you, his hand brushing stray hairs from your face. “Don’t worry too much.” He says, his finger trailing the line of your nose. “We always try our best to make it home. Now we just have an even greater reason to.” 

Your hand cups his cheek as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You hum against his mouth, pressing your body closer against his. You can’t help but smile against his lips as his cock hardens against your thigh. 

“Again?” You murmur against his lips, making him chuckle.

“Can’t blame me when there’s a beautiful omega naked in my bed.” 

Your face burns as he leans back down to kiss you, his hips moving against your thigh. Warmth spreads through your whole body from his scent thickening in the air, his arousal prevalent as he twitches against your leg. 

“John.” You moan softly, hands grasping at his back. 

You both pause as a door shuts in the hallway, the reminder that the others are just a thin wall away coming back to you. The moment is over as your stomach growls, also reminding you that you’ll need to eat eventually. 

John chuckles quietly, leaning up to press a kiss against your forehead. “Come on, let’s get the day started and get some food into you.” 

You frown a bit as he pulls away, cock still hard and angry looking as he stands from the bed. “John?” You call out, scrambling off the bed after him. “You’re just gonna...” 

“Give it a minute and I’ll be fine.” He says, moving to his closet. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” 

Your frown only deepens and you step closer to him, catching him as he turns around. You stare up at him through your lashes, wrapping your hand around his cock. He pauses, letting out a little groan as you squeeze him gently. 

“Let me help you.” You say, dragging your hand along his length. 

His eyes darken as he stares down at you, the pants in his hand dropping to the floor. 

Your face is still a bit flushed as you make your way to the mess. You’re hand in hand with John, dressed comfortably in one of his shirts and a pair of leggings. You can’t help but feel a bit bashful, as if they’re all going to know what you did, as if every soldier in the mess knows you and Price slept together last night. 

They’ve probably been thinking that since you arrived. 

Price leads you through the line, making your tray for you. You nearly beam with pride at him taking care of you, your omega preening with happiness as he carries your tray and his to the table. You take the spot next to Gaz as usual, still practically beaming. 

“Have a good night, love?” Gaz asks, smirking a bit at your pleased state. 

“Yeah.” You say, your face getting warm again at their stares. 

“Practically glowing, kitten.” Johnny says, winking at you from across the table. 

Your face flushes hotter and you quickly bury yourself in your porridge to avoid exploding at the breakfast table. 

“Sounded like ye had a great time.” Johnny continues. 

Christ, they probably heard the whole thing. You halfway want to sink down beneath the table to hide from their knowing stares. You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about, not really. They’re your pack, and eventually you’ll be in the same position with them too. 

“Didnae know ye had it in ye, kitten.” Johnny continues. “We certainly enjoyed the show.”

You do start to sink down in your seat a bit, surprised steam isn’t rising off your skin from how warm you feel. Gaz’s hand on your leg stops you, his fingers squeezing your thigh gently. 

“Don’t pay too much attention to him, love.” Gaz gives you a reassuring smile. “He’s just jealous he didn’t get to go first.” 

“Am not.” Johnny whines, practically pouting. 

You can’t help but smile a bit at his antics. You know from how much he bragged about getting to be your first kiss that he probably was rather put out that John got to be your first. It would have been that way regardless, but you know you asking John before your heat changed things a bit. It would have always been John, though. 

It would have always been your alpha first. 

Gaz’s hand doesn't move from your thigh, holding its place there as you all eat, Johnny still pouting a bit. You know they’ll want to pursue that sort of relationship with you after your heat, but now that John’s removed the barrier of the first time as well, you can only expect them to up the teasing tenfold. A shiver runs up your spine at the thought of Gaz sliding his hand slightly higher, fingers slipping between your legs. 

You’re certain there has to be steam coming off of you now. 

Your thighs squeeze together, trapping Gaz's fingers between them as you continue to try and act normally. Gaz turns his head just slightly, side eyeing you as you continue to try and eat your breakfast as normally as possible. Gaz's grip on your thigh tightens, fingers digging into your skin. You fight the noise threatening to come up as he holds his hand there, continuing to eat his breakfast as if nothing is happening. 

You hold Gaz's hand as he walks you back towards the barracks, leaning against his side. His grip around your fingers is tight, not even the rain dampening the heaviness of his scent. It's deeper than usual, the musk of arousal tinging the edges. 

Your back meets your door as soon as you're back in the barracks, Gaz pinning you against the wood. Your own breathing is heavy as you stare up at him, his eyes dark as he meets your gaze. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?” He groans, leaning down to kiss you. It's far more passionate than you've ever kissed him before, his hands sliding down your sides to grip your waist. “Making all those sweet noises last night.” He breathes against your lips. “Haven't seen Price that relaxed in a long time.” 

Your face warms at his words, your hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt. He presses harder against you, pinning you against the door as his tongue prods at your lips. He tastes like the tea he drank with breakfast, herby and earthy. 

“Has us all worked up last night.” He groans against your lips. “Hearing you, knowing our alpha was treating you nice.”

He presses his forehead against yours, staring down at you. You meet his gaze, shivering under the intensity in his deep brown eyes. 

“Johnny bout cried he was so worked up.” Gaz's lips twitch in a smile. “Simon left for the gym bout halfway through, had to work out his tension.”

Your brows raise at the news about what Ghost had been up to last night. You figured he might join Johnny in his room, or perhaps head somewhere so he didn't have to hear you. Not that he would leave because he was being affected by you. 

“Johnny was being such a whiny little bastard. Had no choice but to take pity on him.” Gaz nips at your jawline playfully. “I fear he's going to be unbearable until he gets his chance.” 

“Well, he'll just have to wait his turn.” You say. 

Gaz laughs, kissing you again before he takes half a step back, leaning his arm on the door above you. “Any plans today?”

You shrug, still leaning against your door. “Might read, or nap. Maybe both.” You sink your teeth into your lip, reaching back to put your hand on the door handle. “You wanna come in?” 

Gaz's grin widens into a smile, his eyes practically sparkling. “Sure.”

You open the door, stepping into your room. It's a bit of a mess from you preparing for your date last night. You toss the clothes from your bed onto the floor haphazardly before pushing Gaz onto the mattress. He kicks off his shoes before making himself comfortable. You toe off your slippers, grabbing your book before joining him on the bed. He pulls you against his side, pulling his phone out of his pocket as you settle against his chest. A quiet content purr begins rumbling in his chest, easing the tension in your body as you relax against him. 

You stay like that, reading while cuddling Gaz, for quite a while. Your door is wide open still, the others coming and going as they do on the weekends. Gaz keeps your back to his chest, arm wrapped around his middle as he scrolls on his phone while you read. 

Slowly his head starts to droop until it's resting against the top of yours. You can feel the content sleepiness settling into your bones as well, the words on the pages starting to swim a bit. You mark your place, moving just enough to set your book on your nightstand before you curl up against him, letting his even breaths lull you to sleep. 

You jolt awake suddenly as Gaz's arms tighten around you, keeping you from flying off the bed. You blink open your bleary eyes, squinting at Johnny's grinning face inches from yours. His body is draped over both yours and Gaz's, a solid weight against you both. 

“C'mon ye lazies. Gotta eat lunch eventually.” He says, sounding far too chipper for a Sunday afternoon. 

“Fuck off mate.” Gaz says, shoving at Johnny's shoulder. “Was comfy.”

“Yer hogging the omega!” Johnny says, poking Gaz's side. He pushes himself up, scooping you into his arms and lifting you. “Some of us would like tae spend time with ‘er too.” 

You yelp at being lifted suddenly, wrapping your arms around Johnny's neck to hold on for dear life. 

“Well, maybe you just need to be a little bit faster.” Gaz says, standing from the bed. 

“I'm plenty fast.” Johnny almost whines. “Close to beating your time on the course.”

Gaz smirks. “I'll believe it when I see it.” 

You look back and forth between them as Gaz steps closer to Johnny, caging you between them. 

“And ye will see it.” Johnny says.

“Cheeky.” Gaz murmurs, closing the distance between them. 

You stare wide eyed as they kiss just inches in front of your face. It's all tongues and teeth, Soap's chest rumbling against your side as he purrs. A quiet whimper leaves your lips as you watch them, your body starting to get warm again. 

They break apart, both turning to look at you. Gaz's lips turn up in a smirk, Johnny's eyes sparkling. 

“Look at you, kitten.” Johnny smirks. “Ye like watching us?” 

You make another quiet noise, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. Johnny slowly lowers you until you're standing between them, Gaz not moving an inch as they trap you in a beta sandwich. Their bodies are warm and solid as you stand there, back to Johnny's chest. You can feel the bulge in his jeans pushing against your ass, Gaz's body a solid weight against your front. 

You can imagine it, naked between them, skin against skin with hands everywhere. A quiet purr begins in your chest, eyes dilating as you stare up at Gaz. He smirks down at you, leaning down towards you. He skirts to the side at the last minute though, kissing Johnny behind you. 

You can't see them this time but lord can you hear it. Johnny is still purring, the sound vibrating against your back. Gaz let's out a quiet sound, his hand dropping to squeeze your waist. 

Johnny pats your side before pulling away. “Should get ye some lunch.”

Your head is still spinning as Gaz hums his approval, stepping away as well. You stand there blinking for a moment at the sudden loss of contact, the sudden shift in energy. 

“C'mon, get yer shoes on, sunshine.” Johnny says. 

You move half in a daze still towards your bed, your body tingling a bit still from the many thoughts that had been racing through your mind. 

Something in the back of your mind begins to itch as you stare down at your bed. Your brows pinch in a frown as you stare down at the mess of blankets and pillows. 

It's not right. 

Your fingertips twitch as you stare at the mess in your nest, your mind taking over as you begin to rearrange the blankets and pillows. You forget you're not alone in the room as you fuss with the blankets until the itching begins to lessen a bit. You fiddle with the pillows, moving them around over and over again until you're happy with how they're organized, the quiet humming in the back of your mind fading away to nothing. 

You sink down on the edge of the bed, letting out a long breath. You feel tired and almost winded after your effort to make sure your nest is just right. 

Nest. 

You're nesting. 

You blink up at Johnny and Gaz, suddenly aware of their presence in your space again. Johnny is staring at you wide eyed, mouth slightly parted in wonder. Gaz has a sparkle in his eye as he grins at you. 

You've just built a nest. 

“Feel better, love?” Gaz asks, still almost beaming from witnessing you make your nest. 

You nod, a sudden weight lifting from your shoulders. You've nested. You're nesting. Everything is going to be okay. 

“C'mon.” Johnny says, slipping your slippers back onto your feet. “Let's get lunch in ye.”

You let him help you up, holding both their hands as you make your way from the barracks, a small, relieved smile on your face.

You wake up nauseous. 

There’s a clawing feeling in your stomach and you’re not sure why. 

It’s early, too early to be up. The sky outside is still dark, and the barracks are quiet. You get up, heading for the bathroom, the gnawing feeling still plaguing your stomach. Cold water on your face doesn't help the light-headedness or the dizziness you’re beginning to feel. 

You can’t possibly be sick. You haven’t been around anyone that’s sick. You know heat sickness isn’t a threat right now. There’s no warnings out about possible exposures. It couldn’t be food poisoning. You eat the same things they do. 

The gnawing intensifies, your stomach rumbling a bit. 

Realization dawns on you suddenly. 

You’re hungry. 

You’re very hungry. 

You check the time on your phone. Three a.m. Still too early for any of the boys to be up, and still a couple hours from when the mess would start serving breakfast. You head for the rec room, hoping there’s at least something in there to tide you over until breakfast. 

You dig through the cabinets, plenty of tea and a couple packets of instant coffee you know belong to Johnny. You dig out a couple protein bars, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge before taking a seat on the couch. 

The protein bars aren’t great. They don’t taste good, but you’re so hungry you don’t care. You down them quickly and the entire bottle of water. For a moment you feel relief, the gnawing in your stomach easing. You head back to bed, slipping back into your room quietly. 

You toss and turn, unable to go back to sleep as the gnawing begins in your stomach once more. You let out a quiet sound, muffled by your pillow as you lay there, knowing you still have a long time until they’ll come and get you for breakfast. 

The thought makes you almost want to cry. 

You’re waiting as soon as they knock, narrowly avoiding Johnny’s hand as you open the door mid-knock. The bright look in his eyes fades as he stares at you. You know you look miserable, maybe a little sick, even. You feel worse, your stomach twisting and gnawing. Those protein bars four hours ago hadn’t been nearly enough. 

“Ye alright, kitten?” He asks, a frown marring his face. 

“Hungry.” You all but whine, slipping out the door, closing it behind you. 

“Ye hungry, kitten? Ye could have said somethin’ sooner. Coulda brought ye somethin’.” Johnny says, following you down the hall. 

You’re determined to get real food and you’re not about to let anything get in your way. You feel ravenous, despite the fact you’d had a good dinner the night before. 

Maybe it hadn’t been enough. 

You make your own tray this time, loading on more than you usually do. You take your normal spot between Price and Gaz, all four of them eyeing your tray as you happily dig in. 

“Hungry, love?” Price asks, watching you spoon huge mouthfuls of porridge into your mouth. 

You nod, chewing quickly before spooning more in. It tastes delicious, something you never thought you would say about British food. 

They all watch in awe as you clear your tray, eating every last crumb, having to refrain from licking it clean. Finally, for the first time since you went to bed last night, you feel full and satisfied. 

“Damn. Putting us to shame.” Gaz says, staring at your empty, nearly clean tray. 

You grow bashful under their stares, realizing you not only out ate them, you also finished first. “I was hungry.” You say, fiddling with your fork. 

“No kidding.” Ghost huffs out, all of them finishing up their trays. 

You’re in a far better mood leaving the mess than you were entering it, the sweet relief of being full after hours of gnawing hunger making you feel almost giddy. Ghost walks you back to the barracks, walking slow enough you can easily keep up with him. So slow, your arm brushes his as you walk next to him. 

“Sorry.” You say, moving a step away from him. You’re so used to standing directly next to the others, you’ve forgotten Ghost prefers his personal space. 

He stares down at you for a moment but doesn’t say anything, holding the door to the barracks open for you. He stands just inside the door, watching you make your way down the hallway to your room. He waits for the click of the lock before he turns, leaving you alone in the barracks again. 

You settle into your usual routine of laying in your nest and reading, the giddiness starting to wear off as the time passes. You make it until ten a.m. when the gnawing hunger begins to return. You let out an annoyed whine, dropping your book to the floor as you roll onto your stomach. 

You want to cry and scream at the same time, watching the clock tick by on your phone. You’re tired of being so hungry, and what’s worse, you don’t even know why. You’re just ravenous and you can’t think of a reason. 

Lunch can’t come soon enough, and you find yourself struggling through the afternoon just as much. It’s almost like your body is on a timer and every two hours you’re suddenly starving, as if you haven’t eaten all day. You eat just as much as you did at breakfast, scarfing down food like you’re a starving animal. 

You certainly feel like one. 

You head to the rec room after dinner, Ghost and Johnny joining you. Johnny takes the seat next to you on the couch, draping his arm behind you as Ghost takes his usual spot in the chair. 

You curl up against Johnny’s side, watching whatever he decides to put on TV half-heartedly. You’re waiting for the inevitable, the gnawing hunger to creep up on you again. 

It does, roughly two hours into your time in the rec room. 

You shift against Johnny, pressing against his side more as you try to ignore the hunger burning through you. His arm wraps around your shoulders, holding you against him. You breathe in his scent, letting the citrusy scent of him wash over you. 

It only serves to make you more hungry. 

You let out a quiet whine, trying to get closer to him. Tears prick at your eyes as you know there’s no relief coming. There’s no more meals until tomorrow. You’ll have to go all night before you can eat again, before you can relieve the hunger. You’re not sure you’ll make it that long. You might perish in the middle of the night, or become violently ill. Perhaps both. 

You let out another quiet whine, standing from the couch. You can’t take it anymore, both Johnny and Ghost watching you as you head for the cabinets, kneeling on the floor and rummaging through everything, desperate to find another protein bar or anything. 

“What are you doing?” Ghost asks, staring at you as you’re halfway in the cabinet, checking every last corner. 

“Hungry!” You snap, half considering eating one of the tea bags just for something. 

You’ve just closed the cabinet door in irritation when an arm wraps around your waist, lifting you from the floor. You let out a yelp, Ghost carrying you easily back to the couch. 

“Stay.” He says after dropping you back next to Johnny. “I’ll be back.” 

Johnny wraps his arms around you as you pout, nearly in tears from how frustrated you are. You’re just so hungry. 

“Easy, kitten.” Johnny says, pulling you back against his chest. 

You nuzzle into him, curling up into a ball against his side. He starts purring quietly, trying to soothe you while you wait for Ghost to return. You can’t pay attention to the TV, Johnny trying to change the channel every time a food related commercial comes on. 

You’re nearly shaking when Ghost returns, arms full of snacks. Your eyes widen as he dumps them on the coffee table, pushing yourself up from Johnny’s chest. 

“Where did you get these?” You ask, dropping to your knees on the floor in front of the coffee table. 

“Vending machine in the mess.” Ghost answers, sitting back down in his chair. 

You stare at him teary eyed, sniffling a little. “Thank you.” 

He grunts in response, turning his gaze back to the TV as you reach for a bag of chips.

You can barely even taste it as you kneel there on the floor, basking in the first taste of sweet relief from a bag of salt and vinegar chips. You grab them by the handful, burning through the small, snack sized bag quickly. 

You’ve barely finished chewing when you’re reaching for a candybar, a sudden realization striking you as your brain begins to regain the ability to think now that it knows relief is coming. You stare at the purple Cadbury on the front of the packaging, your fingers trembling as you hold the candybar. 

You take a deep breath, quickly opening the wrapper before taking a bit, sitting back on your heels as you chew. “Well, shit.” 

“I know, I hate the exam rooms too.” Dr. Keller says, flipping through her clipboard. “Too clinical and sterile looking.” She lifts your hand, removing the pulse monitor from your finger. “A little higher than normal.” She says, writing something down on the clipboard. 

She takes your blood pressure and temperature, writing both down on the clipboard. 

“Temperature is still normal.” She says. “How have you been feeling?” 

“Hungry.” You say, picking at the thin fabric of the hospital gown you’ve been forced into. “Ravenously hungry and clingy.” You continue. “A bit more emotional than normal too.” 

Dr. Keller nods, writing all of it down. “Normal things for your pre-heat, according to your file. Anything out of the ordinary? Aches and pains? Any nausea or vomiting, not related to hunger?” 

You shake your head. “No. Kinda sleepy all the time too, but the hunger makes it hard to sleep.” 

Dr. Keller nods. “That’s normal. Your body is preparing for a few days of very little caloric intake and little rest. I’d say you’re exhibiting all the signs of pre-heat. You’re right on time, as expected.” She gives you a little smile. “Judging by your vitals you still have a few days before the full heat symptoms begin. Any questions?” 

“What do institutes do for heats?” John asks where he’s sitting to the side of the exam table. 

“It depends on the institute.” Dr. Keller says, looking at you. 

“FIOT rotated between sedation and isolation.” You say, not really wanting to think back on the heats you had gone through at the institute. “Sedation for the full heat, or shutting us in private rooms for a week to ride out the symptoms alone to avoid triggering heats in the other omegas.” 

“Neither are great, but in that sort of environment there’s not a lot that can be done. Sedation is the better of the two, though it can still be disorienting. Isolation is painful and risky, especially if proper care isn’t given.” Dr. Keller says. 

“Is sedation an option for the future?” Price asks. 

You turn to look at him, before looking back at Dr. Keller. 

“It’s something we can explore. I know it can’t be expected of you to be here for every heat. We can start exploring some alternatives after this heat is over and I have a better idea of what they’re going to look like.” Dr. Keller gives you a soft smile. “Now, I’d like to do a little exam just to give me a baseline for after your heat when I check for any abnormalities or injuries.” 

She directs you to lay down on the exam table and put your feet in the stirrups. You suddenly feel nervous, her words doing little to calm you. John appears in your peripheral, slipping his hand into yours. 

“Is that a risk?” You ask as Dr. Keller pulls a clean pair of gloves on. 

“Only a small one.” She says, standing at the end of the table. “I know you’ve probably heard all the horror stories, but those are only really concerns with inexperienced alphas who have never helped an omega through a heat before, especially those who had limited exposure to omegas in general.” She smiles at you. “You’re in good hands, my dear.” 

She does her exam, letting you sit up once she’s finished. John helps you up, still holding your hand. Dr. Keller’s words do ease your concerns just a bit, but you can’t help the images flashing through your mind, the horror stories of mutilations and even deaths. You trust Price to take care of you, but at the same time, you won’t know until it’s over. 

“Everything looks good.” She says. “The best thing you can do right now is try to satiate the pre-heat symptoms and take this time to make sure everything is ready and in place for when the full heat begins. Don’t worry too much.” She looks pointedly at you. “I’ll be on call and ready should something happen.” Her gaze turns to John. “Your beta knows what to look out for, right?” 

John nods. “Kyle has been doing a lot of research. He knows what to do.” 

“Good.” Dr. Keller says, looking back at you. “Why don’t you get dressed, then we can go back to my office where it’s more comfortable and talk some more.” 

Dr. Keller leaves you alone in the room, Price helping you change back into your normal clothes, leaving the room with you. You turn to look up at him, Dr. Keller waiting for you near her office door. 

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Price says, leaning down towards you. 

“Yeah.” You say, standing up on your toes to kiss him. 

You try to ignore the look on Dr. Keller’s face as you walk past her and into her office, your face warming a bit in response. You take your normal seat, trying to get comfortable despite your bashfulness. 

“You and Captain Price seem a lot closer.” Dr. Keller says as she sits across from you on the couch. 

You nod. “Yeah. We, uh, we have gotten closer.” You chew on your lip. “We slept together...on Saturday night. Had a date, he cooked dinner. Then we...did it.” 

Dr. Keller’s brows raise at your words, her face surprised. “Oh? Is that so? Is that something you wanted?” 

You nod. “I asked him if he’d do it. I wanted my first time to be when I could remember it...before I would feel like it was something that had to be done.” 

Dr. Keller hums, writing something down. “Did you have fun?” 

Your face warms at her words, and you halfway wish the chair would swallow you whole. You nod, hiding your fingers beneath your sleeves again. “Yeah. I uh, started nesting too.” 

Dr. Keller’s face breaks out into a huge smile. “That’s great! That’s fantastic news! Perfect timing too.” 

You nod. “Yeah. Started on Sunday. Been feeling it since.” 

“Good. That gives us one less thing to worry about.” She sets her notebook aside, crossing her legs as she stares at you. “How do you feel about your heat coming so soon?” 

“Nervous.” You answer honestly. 

“It can be a bit daunting, I’d imagine, your first heat with an alpha. Captain Price knows what he’s doing, though. He and Sergeant Garrick will take good care of you.” 

“I know.” You say, fiddling with your sleeves. “It’s still scary. A lot of things can happen and...what if one of them does?” 

“It’s not very likely.” Dr. Keller reassures you. “Captain Price knows what he’s doing. He’s experienced with omegas and heats and the likelihood of him losing control is small, even after so long without any contact with an omega. It sounds like Sergeant Garrick has educated himself on things to look for, and what to do to help. I’ll be ready and on call the entire time as well. I’ll make regular check-ins with Sergeant Garrick too, to make sure everything is going smoothly. You’re not alone in this. We’ll all make sure you’re well taken care of. I know it’s a lot to ask you to trust people that are still somewhat strangers, but we all have your best interests in mind here.” 

“I know.” You say quietly. “It’s hard, not knowing much of anything. They tell you everything you should expect at the institute over and over again, then you get in it and everything is different. Nothing is like it should be. Nothing like they said. I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“I know. You were prepared for one life and got an entirely different one. Lucky for you, though, you’re surrounded by very understanding people who are more than happy to help you. I know this is so far from ideal for you, but I think you’re doing a fantastic job with what you were handed.” 

You stare at your hands, thinking over her words. John’s called you a good omega before. He’s called you that a few times. He thinks you’re doing a good job, despite the fact you feel like none of your skills are useful here. Despite the fact you feel like you haven’t been trying. 

You think over everything they’ve done for you, how hard they’ve tried to help make you as comfortable as possible. She’s right. They’re all so understanding and you know they like you. You can see it in their reactions to you, you can smell it on them. You know Gaz won’t let anything happen to you, even if something goes wrong. 

They have yet to prove themselves untrustworthy, for the most part. 

Maybe you really don’t have anything to worry about. 

“Come on.” Ghost says, standing in your doorway. You almost don't recognize him in a beanie and surgical mask instead of his usual balaclava. “Get shoes on, and let’s go.” 

“Go where?” You ask, sitting up on your bed. 

“Shopping.” He says, before turning on his heel. 

You frown, but do as he says, slipping on comfortable shoes and grabbing your phone. You head down the hall towards the door, a familiar car parked outside. Price and Ghost are waiting next to the car, both dressed in civilian clothes. You approach them hesitantly, suddenly feeling intimidated in the presence of the two alphas. You know you have nothing to worry about, but this is the first time you'll be alone with both of them. 

Ghost steps up to you, a bottle in his hand. You barely have time to hold your breath before he sprays you down with scent blocker, the harsh chemicals burning your nose as they settle on your skin and cut off your scent. It's necessary, even with two alphas around you. 

“Ready?” John asks, letting his eyes scan over your form for a second. He could probably pick up on your tension and uneasy energy from a mile away. 

“Can...Can I ask why?” You ask as John opens the back door for you. 

“Well, we can't have you starving to death on us, can we?” John smiles. “And we need to get a few things for your heat.”

“Oh.” You say, blinking up at him. 

“Hop in. Hopefully we can get the shopping done before dinner.” John says. 

Before you get hungry again. 

You climb in the backseat, John closing the door before getting in the driver's side. Ghost is already in the passenger seat, buckled in and ready. 

You sit and watch the landscape pass by, the car quiet except for the radio. The contrast between the two betas and the two alphas is almost as distinct as night and day. Johnny and Gaz had talked almost nonstop the entire drive to and back from town. Ghost and Price seem content in their silence, Ghost watching the landscape pass just like you. 

It speaks volumes of their trust and ease with each other. 

The farmlands turn to city and you find yourself back at Asda again. You hold John's hand as you walk, Ghost taking your other side, sandwiching you between them. People stare as you pass, their eyes on Ghost, but he doesn't even seem to notice. 

You stick close to John as you walk through the store, picking up items you'll need for your heat, as well as some other things. Ghost follows like a shadow, people giving you a wide berth when they spot him. You're almost grateful for it. You swear some of them can tell you're about to start your heat, their eyes burning into you as they pass. 

You can feel the beginnings of hunger starting to creep in as you walk down the bed liner aisle. You know if you weren't starting to get hungry, you would have been close to combusting from the knowledge of why this aisle was necessary. 

You let out a sigh, leaning your head against John's arm as he crosses the bed liner off the list. 

“What?” He asks, amusement in his voice. 

“You know what I miss?” You say, wrapping your arms around one of his. “Good authentic Mexican food.” 

The corner of John's lips lift in a smile. “Yeah? You getting hungry again?” 

You nod, a subtle whine to your tone. “Yeah.”

John turns to look at Ghost, the two alphas having a seconds long silent conversation before Ghost heads off, disappearing from the aisle. 

“Where's he going?” You ask. 

“Getting a head start on the other supplies for your heat.” John says. “Just a couple more things, then your snacks and we'll be done and we'll get some dinner.” 

You stop as you turn the corner around the end of the aisle, your eyes spotting a giant teddy bear. It looks soft and squishy, your pre-heat addled brain already picturing the perfect spot for it in your nest. 

“You want it?” John asks, looking between you and the bear. 

You snap back into reality for a moment, glancing up at the price. You nearly die on the spot, shaking your head. “I-I don't...”

John turns you to face him, speaking firmly. “Do you want it?”

You stare up into his eyes, nodding slowly. 

His gaze softens just a bit, a smile tugging at his lips. “Then grab it.” 

You're moving before you can even have a second thought, wrapping your arms around it and lifting it off the shelf. It's just as soft as you thought it would be, nearly as big as you are too. You can imagine cuddling it in your nest, napping contently, surrounded in soft plushness. 

“C'mon pup.” John says, patting your back gently. You're purring, you realize suddenly, the sound leaving you entirely unconsciously. “Let's get you some snacks then we'll get dinner.”

You carry the bear, following John to the grocery section of the store. He takes you to the snack aisle and you pass the bear off to him, grabbing anything and everything that looks good, loading up the cart. You grab a few things from the American section as well, snacks you didn't think you'd miss, but right now they sound like manna straight from heaven. 

“Simon's done with his part.” John says, glancing at his phone. “We'll meet back at the car.” 

You take the bear back once you're done filling the cart with snacks, heading towards the checkout. You're hesitant to let the bear go long enough to be scanned before you're holding it again, purring quietly and contently. 

John keeps his arm around you as you walk through the parking lot towards the car. There's already bags in the trunk from Ghost, the alpha already in the passenger seat. They must have both been carrying keys to the car. Safety precautions. Things most people wouldn't even think about. 

“Thank you.” You say as John fills the trunk with the rest of the bags. “You didn't have to do this.”

“Yes we did.” John says, looking down at you. “Not going let you starve like that if we can help it.”

“It's still strange to me, getting taken care of.” You say, squeezing the bear. “Still makes me feel a bit like a sugar baby.”

John chuckles. “Don't worry, I won't make you call me daddy.” He leans in close to your ear. “Unless you want to.” 

Your face burns hot, your entire body igniting with heat at his words. He gives you a gentle pat on the ass, directing you to the door of the car before taking the cart back to the store. 

Your face is still burning as you attempt to climb into the car with your bear, giving up and stuffing it in first. 

“What the hell is that?” Ghosts asks, turning to look at you.

“My new bear.” You respond, arranging the bear so its sitting in the seat beside you. 

“Christ.” He breathes, and you can practically hear the eye roll as you buckle the bear in. 

You buckle yourself in as John climbs in the driver's seat.

“All set?” He asks, turning to look at you. 

You nod, smiling happily despite the hunger eating away at you. 

“Let's get some dinner, then we'll head back to base.” John says, turning on the car. “Can't have our omega starving on us, can we?” 

Ghost snorts. “Best feed her before she decides we look appetizing.” 

You wrinkle your nose. “You'd be too gamey, Ghost.” You say, eyeing him before turning your gaze to the seat in front of you. “John, though...” You lick your lips. “I already know you taste good.”

John lets out a deep chuckle that rumbles with the edge of a pleased growl. “Easy, kitten.”

Ghost lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand over his face. “Spare me. Now there's two of ‘em.” 

John chuckles again, squeezing Ghost's shoulder. “Little did you know, Simon.” 

Ghost turns to look at John. “Is it too late to get a refund?” 

You stifle a giggle as John smiles. “You'll have to ask Laswell.”  

Ghost sighs, turning to look out the window. “No hope for it, then.” 

“Hey, at least I'm cute!” You grin. “Don't tell Johnny I said that.” 

You practically beam with pride as you see Ghost's shoulders shake with his laughter. Maybe you can get through to him more than you think you can. 

Maybe, just maybe, you can get him to like you. 

The knock comes at your door unexpectedly. It's late, and you had just begun to feel the pangs of hunger once more. You hate it, but you know it's necessary considering you'll have to go roughly a week getting in nothing but what nutrient bars can offer while exerting insane amounts of energy. Your body needs to store the calories now so that you don't die during your heat. 

You're surprised to see Ghost on the other side of the door, back in his balaclava. His shoulders are squared, but you can't scent any anger or hostility on him. 

He almost seems...nervous. 

“Hungry?” He asks, staring down at you. 

“Always.” You answer almost instinctively, staring up into his deep brown eyes. 

He motions for you to follow with his head. “C'mon.” 

You frown a little, but you step out of your room, closing the door behind you. You follow him towards the rec room, staring at his broad back. His shoulders are still squared, hands in his pockets. 

The rec room is set up again not unlike it was for your date with John. The card table is out and there's foil covered dishes on it, along with a couple plates. Your brows raise in surprise as you take it all in. 

“I made you something.” Ghost says, moving over to the table, removing the foil from one of the dishes. 

You move closer, blinking in surprise. “You made...enchiladas?” 

He nods. “As close as I could get with what I could find on short notice. There's rice and beans, too. And salsa.” 

Tears blur your vision as you stare down at the food on the table. It smells delicious and that's not just your ravenous pre-heat hunger talking. “You...did this for me?”

“Well, I had help,” He says, looking past you. 

You turn, Soap and Gaz standing at the windows that frame the door to the rec room. They smile and wave at you as you turn to look at them. A quiet laugh leaves your mouth as you smile at them. 

“Help yourself.” Ghost says as you turn back to the table. “There's plenty.”

You serve yourself a plate, nearly melting off the chair as you take the first bite. It takes you all the way back home, the good years when your father was stationed in Texas. 

“Taste okay?” Ghost asks, watching you. “I know it's not authentic, but I did a lot of research.”

“It's amazing, Ghost. Really.” You say. “Tastes just like the ones my mom would make.” You wipe at the tears in your eyes. “Thank you for doing this.”

He shrugs, looking almost bashful. “It's the least I could do. I know how big of a deal heats are to omegas and how nervous you've been. Thought you could use a little comfort.” 

You smile softly. “That means a lot.” You can't help but giggle softly. “I knew you liked me deep down.”

He gives you a look, making you giggle even more. “Don't push it.” 

NEXT ->

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit, @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash@lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami, @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle, @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons, @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff, @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10, @cassiecasluciluce @darling006@sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages@scythemood @daniblogs164, @mirzamsaiph

[kenjioharashotspot]

Pictures and videos Kenji Sato has/took of you on his phone (baby daddy edition) — PT. 2

tagging my lovelies: @mysterious-gworl / @slay-thou-pookie

The sixth video he took of you was when you gave birth to your baby girl and he surprised you at the maternity hospital with a huge pink tulip bouquet adorned with dainty white baby's breath flowers.

The seventh video was sent to Kenji from Professor Sato while he was taking a break during a conference meeting. It showed Emi, meeting the baby for the first time. You were holding your baby girl while Emi's cute excited sounds echoed through the luxurious containment area.

The sixth photo Kenji has of you is a picture Professor Sato took of you and his granddaughter wearing matching baseball jerseys with Kenji's last name (SATO) and number (7). His cheeks would turn a dusted shade of red every time he saw that picture!

The eighth video he took of you was when he admired you as you were breastfeeding the baby while singing a melody Kenji's mom used to sing for him when he was a baby. Kenji would always fall in love with you, over and over again.

The seventh photo he has of you on his phone is a selfie of yours back when you were super pregnant! Your chubby cheeks matched your round, soft pregnant belly. He called you his "cute little puffer fish".

The ninth video your husband Kenji has on his phone is a security camera footage of you, holding your baby girl in your arms as you dance in the living room to Swan Lake by Tchaikovsky, wearing your wedding dress. Kenji's eyes would flood with happy tears when watching the video.

The eighth photo he has of you, he took it while you were sleeping. He had to wake up early for practice and when he saw his two princesses sleeping so peacefully, so beautifully, Kenji couldn't resist but to take a picture. He's eternally smitten...

The tenth video he took of you was when you guys went to the mall to get some toys for the baby and he filmed you girls pouting your lips at him as you asked him if he could buy more teddy bears.

The ninth photo he has of you on his phone is back when you were experiencing morning sickness and he caught you making some silly faces as you ate some of the things you loved eating before you got pregnant. He still laughs gazing at those pictures, you looked so cute and confused.

The tenth photo he took of you was when you were getting ready to go out with him. Your smile while looking at the phone camera made Kenji a bit shy as if it was the first time he was meeting you.

[nightingale-prompts]

Finding Batboy

First| Previous | Next

Phantom

King

Fenton

Apprentice

Batboy

He just wanted to be Danny. Just Danny, nothing else.

But who was Danny anymore?

Danny was a 14-year-old boy who died in a tragic accident. Danny had a decent life with friends and a sister who he loved. Danny wanted to be an astronaut and loved the stars. Danny had an astrology phase that made him so annoying to everyone but Sam. Danny liked dogs and cats hated him for no reason no matter how much he loved them. Danny wanted to join the robotics club with Tucker. Danny still snuck into his sister's room when he was scared to sleep in her bed.

But Danny is dead. Danny has been dead for years now.

He missed being Danny.

Now he was Phantom.

No past.

No home.

No family.

But if that was true, what did that make Dick?

Just another person that he would have to leave behind. It wouldn't be long. History doesn't repeat but it rhymes. It can't last. It won't.

Danny flew to some abandoned factory located somewhere in Gotham. He hadn't really paid much attention. He just needed a desolate place to land. Somewhere even the ghosts have long abandoned.

Truthfully Danny didn't want to be alone. A part of him felt the urge to find that revenant that he had met. Something that felt familiar to him, someone that could understand.

But right now Danny wanted to rest and he wasn't picky about where. He wrapped his wings in a tight cocoon and plopped on the ground. His sleep was deep, more than he ever remembered having before, except once.

Danny walked through the halls of a spiraling tower that overlooked the Ghost Zone. The tower was decorated with stars and moons. Mist hovered just above the floor creating a icy blue carpet. Ghost sheep napped in corners. The scent of poppy and pine filled the air.

As Danny ascended to the top he met with a familiar face. Nocturne the ghost of dreams. The ghost's thick bridged nose reminded Danny of that of a sheep that matched his curled ramhorns. His red eyes with horizontal pupils reminded him of a demonic ram he had seen in a horror movie once. Danny could practically hear that line again: "Would thou like to live deliciously?"

It still gave Danny chills.

"Please refrain from making such comparisons." Nocturne said, his voice deep but soft at the same time.

Danny had gotten to know Nocturne some time ago. Apparently, he and Clockwork were close. They shared a high rank among ghosts as they were abstract manifestations rather then being that were once living like some. The hierarchy of ghosts was complex, and Nocturne was not someone to look down on.

"Nox, why am I here?" Danny said standing before the seven-foot frame of the amorphous ghost.

"You are spending too much time in the material realm. If you don't get time back in the realm to which you belong you'll go mad. It's already starting to happen. I stole your mind away for a bit to give you a mental break but your body is already starting to break down." Nocturne said waving a finger at him.

"My body and brain are fine Nox." Danny said crossing his arms.

Nocturne picked the boy up with one hand and held him at eye level.

"You are having trouble shifting are you not? Its not coming as easily as it should. The more attached you get to a form without the energy from our world to break it up the worse it will be. The Ghost of Time has already told me of the problem. You must stay here for the time being and recover. It is what's best. Mental weakness is the worst one can suffer and the remedy is sleep." Nocturne's breath smelled like warm milk and cinnamon. It calmed Danny's nerves and made his eyes heavy.

Clockwork had put him up to this. That old man...really was....annoying....Zzzz.

Back in the world of the living and awake mass panic has broken out.

Batboy is currently missing and Nightwing is not handling it well. The entirety of the Gotham Vigilantes team has been notified and is searching the cities of Gotham and Bludhaven.

"Have you searched the docks?" Nightwing asked frantically as he searched every rooftop in the city.

"I'm working on it. Do you really think he's here?" Red Robin said scanning every unit on the lot.

Red Hood didn't know what the BatBoy kid looked like other than the whole wings thing. If his little buddy Phantom could help it would help.

Although they had a slight resemblance Jason could see too many differences when looking at the pictures. Phantom had round ears, and silver hair that moved like fire and looked like a human. Batboy had long sharp ears, claws, pointy teeth, blueish-green skin, wings, and a white fluff around his neck. Clearly, they were different.

Batman searched the dark allies of Gotham as Signal and Orphan split up to cover as much ground as possible. Oracle searched every camera from the past few hours for the boy.

The good news was that Batboy was found. The bad news was who found him.

"Poor little Bluebird lost his fledgling and Batsy is looking for the lost pup. I should let them know that the little guy has been found! Ahahahaha!"

[rmelster]

Honestly, I wouldn’t do that and wouldn’t go that far, but by God I would be angry if one thing Aemond said overpowered the physical damage he and THE other children received, an Id would not like to be told to “know my place”.

Alicent is better than me bc if my son got ganged up on by 4 other kids (2 being his bullies), had his eye stabbed, had to have his eyeball removed with medieval medical tools and almost half of his face being stitched, had the mother of the kid who did that ask for my son to be questioned sharply(tortured) for stating facts that everyone knows but the only reason no one says it out loud is bc of her daddy, and my husband's solution is to hold hands and sing kumbaya? I'd take Lucerys' eye out with a spoon, cook it and feed it to his mother.

[frost-queen]

Witches road (Fem!reader x Agatha Harkness)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @alex–awesome–22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @erikasurfer @slythetic

Summary: Agatha seeks a coven to walk the witches path. Yet there is one name on the list, she had not thought about for a very long time. With no other faith, she follows a familiar to the darkest hour. [Witches road series]

Seekest thou the road to all that's foul and fair

A bell chimed.

Once, echoing hauntingly through her mind. Making her slowly turn back. Her gaze going up to the fence, seeing a black cat sit. It’s tail swishing from side to side. Agatha’s eyes widened, recognizing the cat so fondly. The cat meowed loud, making her jump out of her skin, hand pressed against her chest.

The cat’s green almond eyes piercing through her. It made her swallow deep as if being read by the cat. Agatha. She felt the world closing in on her as the cat kept staring back. Agatha. The cat’s head slightly bend forwards as it purred. Agatha.

Agatha. A hand grabbed for her shoulder, making her startle. Spinning round she came face to face with the teen. – “Are you alright Agatha?” – he asked furrowing his brows a bit. Agatha settled the fear in her expression, washing it away with a subtle change.

“Get a move on.” – she said giving the teen a shove. He stumbled forwards, looking confused back at her. Agatha gave him another shove when he wasn’t hurrying enough to her liking. The teen followed her to the divination shop. – “Let me do the talking.” – Agatha proposed slapping her hand against his chest.

The teen rubbed his chest mindlessly when Agatha adjusted the shawl around her shoulders. Entering the shop with a smile too grand. Putting on a thick accent, she proposed for a reading. Coming only with one purpose.

To find a coven to walk the witches road. To be rewarded at the end with her powers. Her powers that were taken from her when the darkhold was destroyed. Powers she desperately wanted back. Being vulnerable at the moment as the seven were coming.

The wind stilled as Agatha quirked an eyebrow up to Lilia. Confused looked Lilia down at the paper in her hand she had written vigorously on. – “This should be enough.” – she said giving the paper to Agatha to be rid of it. – “Now leave before I start charging you again.” – Lilia finished with a sway of her hand. Agatha curled up a smile. – “Well your name is on the list.” – she said turning the paper to her.

Lilia sighed loud as the teen approached her, handing her the address of Agatha. Agatha looked back down at the list, her gaze stopping at a certain name. A cat meowing chimed around her, startling her once more. Now there was no ignoring it. Something she had hoped to avoid for a very long time. Yet the chiming of a bell alerted her this was the path she needed to follow. A path that would lead her to someone she had long forgotten in the past. You.

“Who is next on the list?” – the teen asked once stepped outside. Agatha folded the paper in her hand. – “Shut it Toto.” – snapping her finger, she pointed at the car. The teen obeyed and got back in the car. Agatha tried to avoid the name on the list for as long as possible. Focusing on persuading the others to form a coven. A coven she needed for the witches road.

The teen and Agatha returned from the last one as she heard another cat meow. Making her turn her head to distinguish where the sound came from. To her surprise no black cat in sight. With furrowed brows, she walked to the car. Perhaps she had imagined it. Perhaps she had been fooling her head too much with it. Agatha and the teen got in the car. The car got in motion as the teen had to press the brakes hard. Making Agatha nearly fling forwards.

In the way stood a black cat. Staring hauntingly at Agatha. – “Agatha?” – the teen questioned when Agatha heard another chime of a bell. Numbly, she opened the door, getting up. The black cat meowed soft for her attention. – “Agatha?” – the teen repeated not sure what was happening. The cat meowed louder. Agatha didn’t move as the cat came running over to her.

Frightened Agatha stumbled back. – “Agatha? What’s going on?” – The teen could clearly see the fear on her face. Agatha was breathing loudly as the cat came jumping on the hood of the car. Meowing loud before turning his head in a direction. The cat jumped back down, strutting further up the road. Waiting in the middle for them.

“It want’s us to follow him.” – the teen said with a curious smile. Agatha shook her head inn protest. – “This familiar can’t lead us anywhere. Only to death and ruin.” – Agatha responded. Agatha got spooked hearing another hauntingly chime. The cat waiting patiently.

“I’m going to follow it.” – the teen said getting in motion. – “Toto!” – Agatha shout-whispered to keep him on his leash. The teen wasn’t listening making Agatha go after him. Down, down, down the road. Down the wide and wicked road. Leaves rustled with the wind around her. Blindly she followed the black cat, down, down, down the road.

The cat strayed from the path, leading to a woodsy part. Ground covered by brown crumbled leaves. Crunching beneath their feet. The teen looked happily back to Agatha. Agatha wary of what would await her at the end of the road. Another bell chimed as she could see appear between the trees a chapel. Agatha’s heart began thumping loudly as she entered the darkest hour. Following thy familiar down, down, down the road.

The black cat came to a halt underneath an archway. Agatha looked with wide eyes up to the archway. Cemetery. It read. – “Agatha?” – the teen said out loud, waiting for her guidance. The cat meowed once more, drawing her attention down. – “It can’t be…” – Agatha whispered. Knowing only blood, tears and bones awaited her. Down, down, down the road.

The cat got in motion once more as Agatha moved past the teen to enter the cemetery. Nothing but death and ruin breathing. With each step she felt her heart heavy down. Following thy familiar down the road. Her gaze fully fixated on the cat. Not straying from the path. The cat went down the path, disappearing as it made Agatha stop.

Gasping loud at the headstone. Reading thy name on it. The black cat appeared once more, having jumped on top of the headstone. Laying down, his tail swaying down over your name. The teen came joining Agatha, pantingly.

Agatha pulled out the crumbled piece of paper, unfolding it. There she read it once more. Your name. Salem was the last time she had seen you. Haven no idea you were dead. The bell chimed as it made Agatha look shockingly up. Seeing the bell move slowly, waiting for the next chime. Two more chimes rang, deafening the century. Earthly and divine. The cat looked down at the ground.

A second later, broke a hand free. Grabbing for Agatha’s ankle. The sudden grip made her look down with a scream. Lifting her foot up, the hand got pulled out more, revealing more of an arm. The grip faltered around her ankle as she stumbled back. The teen preventing her from tripping. Her eyes widened when another hand shot out from the ground. 

Feeling the wind around her set off. Swirling around her. The pair of hands were crawling for a way out. Down, down, down the road. Down the witches road. Carried along the wind. The earth tangling as an opening was made. A head popped out with a loud gasp. Hair caught with sand and leaves.

Agatha sunk to her knees watching you crawl out of the grave. A hand against her heart, with a heaviness in her eyes. The cat jumped down from the headstone coming to sit before you as you pulled out your legs. Reaching your mudded hand out, you petted your familiar. Then you slowly rose. Naked to the flesh. Risen from the grave. – “Y/n.” – Agatha whispered out. Tilting your head up, you greeted her with a trickery expression.

The bell chimed once more as it made Agatha grasp for her heart. – “I heard you seek the witches road.” – you said. Agatha slowly rose, holding her hand out to touch your cheek. Wanting to be certain you were here. You let your cheek brush against her palm with your eyes closed. Enjoying her touch.

“I’m sorry Agatha, but who is she?” – the teen questioned with a confused look. Agatha gazed upon you fully, smirking a bit. – “Y/n.” – Agatha responded holding her palms against your cheeks once more. In her eyes, you saw a question waiting to be answered. – “I hold death's hand in mine. Primal night, giveth sight. Familiar by thy side” – you told her. Agatha smiled.

She quickly undid herself off her jacket, giving it to you. You pulled her jacket closer to you, to give yourself warmth. Your eyes fell upon the locket dangling around her neck. It made you reach out to touch it. Letting your finger brush over the roughness of it. – “You’ve kept it.” – you spoke with a soft smile. She took your hand, placing a kiss on your knuckles.

“It is dangerous to seek out the witches road.” – you told her, lowering your hand. – “That is why I need you.” – she replied. It made you quirk your eyebrow up, looking briefly down at your familiar. – “My familiar says you have been avoiding him. Were you afraid to see me Agatha?” – you questioned.

Agatha chuckled nervously. – “Well…” – she started, gasping loud as you had grabbed her by the throat. Squeezing your fingers in her skin. – “Bound by earth and buried by thy coven from your mistakes.” – you reminded her, squeezing her airpipe shut. Agatha was grasping for air.

“Y/n let her go!” – the teen begged. With one last squeeze, you let go. She dropped to the ground, grasping for air. Agatha looked up to you, holding her neck. You walked past her, humming loudly. Down, down, down the road. Down the witches road. You sang hauntingly with a smile, leaving the cemetery behind you.

-------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Clownfall: Endgame

I am calling it that in the full knowledge that batshit things may yet happen, but listen. Listen. We have a year left before the general election. I am hedging my bets and assuming all that comes in that year will be Tory manoeuvring ahead of that. Let's all hope for a nice quiet year in which everything can fall neatly under that banner, that won't ruin this naming convention.

Previous Reading

Important Terminology - Required Reading

What is a Whip?

How do Whips work?

Shadow Cabinet

Front Benchers, Back Benchers and the Cabinet

What do we need to call an early General Election?

The Adventures of Big Dog the Clown - Suggested Reading

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Elanor’s Guide to Liz Truss - Suggested Reading

Character-based prequel

The Premiership of Liz Truss

The Next Steps - Suggested Reading

The post-Truss contenders

Bye Matt

BoJo Resigns as MP

Alright, that's probably everything. Just nice to have it all in one place, innit? If you would like a nice soothing soundtrack to your reading, here's my recommendation. On with the show!

Clownfall: Endgame

Wednesday

So, let's start with charismatic and charming Home Secretary Suella Braverman! You may remember her from such hits as "Quitting before she could be fired after breaking the law only to be rehired by Sunak almost immediately and without consequence to appease the right wing nutjobs in the party", and "Claiming Pakistani men have a culture that makes them work in abuse rings to target vulnerable white English girls" (I should add that, if you are unfamiliar with Suella Braverman, regardless of what that quote implies, she is not, in fact, white); recently she made the news because she announced that being homeless is a "lifestyle choice". So true, Suella! They could give it up any time they wanted. They could, for example, get together and break in and steal your fucking house.

But in particular, here we're focussing on her recent stance towards the multiple huge pro-Palestine marches that have been taking place in London. So far she has indicated that she wants people who wave Palestinian flags to be arrested, so that's very measured and rational of her; but, last Wednesday (Nov 8th), she decided to write a lil opinion piece in the Times all about how mean and biased and liberal the police are. This is an absolutely fascinating assertion to I suspect literally anyone who has ever been involved with the police. But no! Quoth Suella, aggressive right-wing protesters are "rightly met with a stern response", while "pro-Palestinian mobs" are "largely ignored".

And, she claims, the march on Saturday isn’t simply a cry for help for Gaza, but an "assertion of primacy by certain groups - particularly Islamists - of the kind we are more used to seeing in Northern Ireland".

Imagine how well all that went down.

Thursday

You are underestimating how that went down, because it emerges that Suella deVille did not, in fact, get any form of validated sign-off or permission from Number 10 before squirting her ill-informed liquid horseshit all over the front desk of the Times news room, and that, Tumblrs, you'll be surprised to learn, is actually quite an important and compulsory part of criticising the police when you are the Home Secretary. Like, there is a Ministerial Code about this. It is very clear. It is in Article 8.2, Tumblrs. Thou Shalt Have Permission From Number 10 Before Making Media Interventions.

“The content was not agreed with Number 10,” a spokesperson for Prime Minister Rishi Sunak told reporters, referring to the prime minister’s Downing Street office. The ministerial code is clear that any ministerial media interventions need approval from No 10.

-AlJazeera

And the Tories are furious! The bloodbath forms quickly and loudly and the hounds start baying! Clown noses are flying everywhere! The factions are drawn! Because even now, there are Tories too stupid to understand that whether you agree with someone or not they still have to follow the rules! Also the other parties realise they can offer some actual opposition here, given that Suella has essentially dragged a barrel into the middle of the House of Commons dressed in a fish costume, handed around a set of loaded rifles, and then crawled inside to wait. The result is that the calls for her resignation are both deafening and pleasingly cross-party.

"(This is a) dangerous attempt to undermine respect for police", says Labour's shadow home secretary Yvette Cooper. "(It's) irresponsible," says London mayor Sadiq Khan. "The PM's weakness when it comes to standing up to Suella is the most shocking thing in all this," claims a senior Labour source.

They're wrong, of course. The most shocking thing is Liberal Democrat leader Sir Ed Davey realising he can actually appear in the paper if he plays this right and so surfaces to attempt some politics. "(Sunak) must finally act with integrity by sacking his out-of-control home secretary!" he declares, frightening many MPs who had forgotten he was even in the room with them.

Meanwhile, several Tories approach the BBC anonymously.

"The home secretary's awfulness is now a reflection on the prime minister. Keeping her in post is damaging him," says one. Another straight-up describes her as "unhinged". Another claims the comparison with Northern Ireland is "wholly offensive and ignorant", and really, all of this is permanently triggering that "Heartbreaking: the worst person you know just made a great point" reaction image.

Saturday

Hey, speaking of reaction images, look, Labour has a go:

Well. They tried.

BUT! Do you want to know the INTERESTING bit??!

Enter: Nadine Dorries! Mad shrieking pink harpy who spends her days maintaining a BoJo shrine in her bedroom! Always the most hinged of politicians, let's see what she has to say.

Former cabinet minister Nadine Dorries claimed Ms Braverman was trying to get sacked to give her a platform of martyrdom in service of the right-wing. "The competition is on now for who is going to be the leader of the opposition," Ms Dorries told the BBC.

???!??!?

PERTINENT POLITICAL OBSERVATION FROM DORRIES?!?!?? The most shocking part of this whole affair. Remember that time she yelled at a journalist during an interview about Boris Johnson's latest scandal when he asked her how Johnson was feeling about the whole thing and inadvertently implied they were having an affair when No One Asked? God, wonders never cease. She's even acknowledging the Tories can't win the next GE, look. I'd say this is growth, except I am 100% positive she's just being catty about BlowJo being fired again.

Anyway, the real Saturday issue: it's Armistice Day, and there's a pro-Palestine march planned.

Now, to give context, Armistice Day has a creepy level of patriotic state-worship attached to it in the UK. Some time in October everyone on telly suddenly starts wearing a poppy, and if you don't you get hanged, drawn and quartered by (a) the British press, and then (b) a baying mob outside your living room. You most be performatively sad. You must perform reverence and hero worship and say things like "Never again" all while whole-heartedly supporting current wars. You must talk about "our brave boys", and share the works of dead poets from the trenches, and then completely fail to absorb any of their lessons. If anyone tries to wear the white poppy to distance themselves from the current political appropriation while still commemorating the millions of conscripted casualties, you accuse them of being "woke" and pissing on the worthy dead of WW1. It's a whole thing, and politicians love using it as an excuse to point fingers and mock each other for being insufficiently patriotic if they wear the wrong tie to the ceremonies, or choose to walk with actual veterans rather than a head of the current army, or any number of other things. And then on November the 12th they'll order a drone strike or something.

So, off the bat, you can see how a pro-Palestine rally on the same day was likely to be seen as provocative to some.

"Some" included Sunak! He didn’t (publicly at least) ask the police to ban the protest, but did call on organisers to call it off, claiming the choice of date was “provocative and disrespectful”, because as I say, a march calling for the ceasefire of a genocide is super disrespectful to every sad dead poet in a trench who dreamed of a ceasefire so they could live, or something.

But the inevitable therefore happens, which is that far-right activists agree that it's disrespectful, and so decide to violently target the march to show their respect for the idea of peace on Armistice Day, or something.

Here's the planned route by the organisers:

Note, though, that the Armistice ceremony happens at the Cenotaph - visibly nowhere near the march. These two events actually wouldn't have overlapped, if it weren't for far-right protestors deliberately linking them to stop them being disrespectfully linked, or something.

And that's exactly what happened. From the Guardian:

Perhaps the most striking incident, though, was when far-right protesters charged past police who sought to hold them back from the Cenotaph. In this video, a man shouts “this is fucking our country” in celebration. Whereas the pro-Palestine march had been excluded from the area as a precaution, the far right was not; by overwhelming the police, they supposedly sought to defend the site from an enemy that simply wasn’t there.

(that's quite a good article of the whole thing, actually, I recommend giving it a read.)

Crucially to the clown show, though, several politicians and others accused Suella deVille of emboldening the far-right, which... well, several of the far-right protestors straight up said was the case on the day, so hard to disagree, really.

Rumours of a reshuffle in Whitehall circumnavigate the land so fast the truth gets sucked into a tornado and is declared MIA.  Here's the thing! I've covered a few Cabinet reshuffles by now, Tumblrs, you know the drill. Reshuffles are always deniable until they actually happen – so if, say, a reshuffle was going to happen on Monday 13 November 2023, there’d be no need to publicise it in advance. That way, if things change and politics happen, you don't need to retract anything :)

Because, remember: reshuffles are always controversial.  Yes, some people get demoted, and those people will often kick off, and some people who don't deserve it get promoted, and lots of people kick off.  But the big thing is that a lot more people get overlooked for promotion.

His most ardent supporters would say that Rishi Sunak is a cautious man (if you'll allow me a moment to express my own view on the matter, Tumblrs, if you'll forgive this crumb of personal opinion amongst my otherwise impeccable journalling of greatest integrity, I once did a teambuilding task with my students where they had to build the best possible bridge out of uncooked spaghetti and pieces of marshmallow, and I personally would liken the structural integrity of his spine to the losing team's entry), and reshuffles will spread a lot of disappointment to Tory MPs who lose – or fail to gain – a cabinet position.

So, all in all... regardless of Suella's idiocy...

There's no guarantee of a reshuffle. Rumours are just that - whether they prove to be true or not remains to be seen.

Week Commencing Monday 13th November, 2023

New week, new challenges! And it's going to be a big week this week. On Wednesday (tomorrow, at time of writing), three big things are going to be announced, and these announcements will colour everything else this week:

One.  The Supreme Court decide whether the government will be allowed to enact their plan to send some migrants claiming asylum in the UK to Rwanda, a signature Braverman plan that human rights campaigners (including many in Rwanda) have been trying to block for ages.

It’s a massive deal anyway – a flagship government idea that’s been bogged down in the court, and we’ll finally have an answer one way or another.  For what it’s worth, the Tories aren’t confident about winning it, either.  The optimists among them reckon it’s a 50/50 chance, the pessimists reckon it’s 70/30 against, so it's iffy at best.

But here's the thing!

Plenty of Tories have always disliked Suella.  Others could handle the odd outburst she has, but can’t stomach the sheer number of them lately - the Lib Dem non-entity man was absolutely right that she is rapidly growing out of control and just does not know when to shut the entire fuck up.

Which means! If the Supreme Court allows the Rwanda plan, Braverman could become emboldened, like a far-right protest injuring police officers to defend the cenotaph from people who are nowhere near it and have no interest in it.  Do we want an emboldened Braverman?? Well; no, obviously. I also don't want dysentery, or rotten meat, or a serial killer in my neighbourhood. But it's a question even Tories are asking themselves, which is notable.

Plus, even if the court allows it, there will still be months of planning, and lawyers might still prevent the plans in the long run...  But psychologically, the issue is this: the government wants this win, but probably doesn’t benefit from Braverman feeling victorious.

Two.  We’ll get inflation figures.  The government promised to halve inflation, and it seems likely they’ve managed this.  Expect them to massively celebrate this, to distract from the promises they haven’t kept e.g. waiting lists in England, competent governance, etc.

Three.  Voting on a ceasefire in Israel seems likely for Wednesday.  It’s the SNP’s idea, and it won’t affect government policy (they won’t support a ceasefire – they claim it’ll empower Hamas).

But it’s a big deal for Labour, even more so than the Tories.  A Shadow minister has already resigned over the war.  A bunch of frontbenchers want a ceasefire, but that isn’t Keir Starmer’s policy, a man who is calling for the colours of the Israel flag to be shown at sports matches to show that "we stand in solidarity with Israel", because you can really count on Starmer to fuck up everything he touches.  So what do they do?  Abstain?  Claim they had a prior commitment??  We might see more resignations, basically.  Big day for Starmer.

So! With all that in mind...

Monday

8.43am

Oh look. Timestamps are back. I wonder if that suggests anything?

Suella Braverman is sacked as Home Secretary.

But! Sunak is accused of waiting too long! Which he demonstrably did!

He should have made the decision after the illegal article that she shouldn't have written and triggered a far-right rally on fucking Armistice Day.  Instead, remember that 'cautious' descriptor I talked about?? He waited until the tide had turned against her completely, and now looks like he (a) was too much of a useless wimp to fire her until he was sure people would still like him and pat his dick and tell him he's a Good PM, and (b) only fired her because he caved in to that appalling lefty liberal cabal that somehow these days includes the Metropolitan Police of all fucking people, and she'd have been able to stay otherwise.

Shout out to the best comment from Reddit:

u/nowonmai666: Doesn't she normally get sacked on a Friday so she can have the weekend off before being reappointed?

Anyway, that's the big risk now: Braverman’s supporters can claim she was only fired because Sunak caved in to the left.

8.56am

Tory MP Andrea Jenkyns claims Sunak only sacked Braverman because he caved in to the left.

9.00am

Neil O'Brian, Pharmacy Minister, quits to live out his stated dream of being a back-bencher with less power.

*sus*

9.09am

Nick Gibb, Schools Minister, quits to live out his stated dream of being more diplomatic, or something.

*sus*

9.42am

The Lib Dems decide to build on the success of their leader getting to be on telly for his one comment on Thursday and call for a general election.  Says Ed Davey: “It was the Prime Minister’s sheer cowardice that kept her in the job even for this long. We are witnessing a broken party and a broken government, both of which are breaking this country.”

Good job! They're having such a good few days.

Anyway remember the Tories don’t have to have a general election until December 2024, though, thanks to the Fixed-term Parliaments Act (2011), which was passed by the coalition government of Tories and, um, Lib Dems.  In which Ed Davey served for three years.

Hmm.

9.43am 

James Cleverly (remember him?) returns to the Cabinet and is appointed Home Secretary. The party attempts to appear trendy by experimenting with emojis:

This appointment is probably because Tory strategists wanted him in a domestic role to help the party’s chances in the next election; as Surprising Political Pundit Nadine Dorries told us, of all fucking people, the race is now on to lead the opposition.

But hey, this is not likely to lead to any more changes -

10.03am

FORMER PRIME MINISTER, BREXIT-TRIGGERER AND PIG-FUCKER DAVID CAMERON BECOMES FOREIGN SECRETARY

!!!!!!!!!!!!

And look! Another emoji! They're so hip!

(Side note... the balls on this one are astounding, actually. The UK political system has been in chaos ever since Cameron, and he was the first domino. This is not a well-loved former hero that will be greeted warmly by the unwashed masses.)

Awkward though, since just last month Sunak claimed that we’d lived through “30 years of a political system that incentivizes the easy decision, not the right one.”  It would be a terrible shame if a journalist was to ask David Cameron whether he agreed with the Prime Minister on that, given that Cameron’s job is to support the Prime Minister now.

Especially since Cameron took to Twitter last month to explicitly criticise Sunak for breaking the Tory promise to deliver High Speed 2.

(Cameron tweeted this criticism last month.  Labour MP Angela Rayner however promptly retweets it now lol suck a dick Dave, but try a human one this time)

Also, fun fact, Cameron has just come out of a large-scale lobbying and corruption scandal. Given the state of Sunak, though, that's actually probably what got him the job.

BUT!!! Here's an even funner fact: the man is not an MP. He left politics after he accidentally triggered Brexit and then it came out he'd once face fucked a dead pig's head while it was held on the lap of another Tory; he's been living it up in the lucrative world of after-dinner speaking, as these people do.

So can you do that?? Can you hold a Cabinet position if no one at all has voted for you??

Yes, turns out.

Don't be alarmed by that, though:

But, convention holds that anyone who becomes a Cabinet member while not being an MP needs to be a Peer - that way, if they do bad and naughty things, they can't be held accountable by the House of Commons but they can be held accountable by the House of Lords. Only problem is, Hameron is not a lord...

10.13am

The reshuffle, bafflingly, continues. Jeremy Hunt will remain as chancellor.

For the first time since 2010, the top four positions in government – Prime Minister (Sunak), Chancellor of the Exchequer (Hunt), Home Secretary (Cleverly) and Foreign Secretary (Cameron) – are all held by men.

10.18am

Lots of people tweeting about the historic context of Cameron’s appointment.  Here’s my favourite:

10.48am

David Cameron is given a life peerage, so his proper name now is Lord Piggledick.

10.52am

Health secretary Will Quince quits.  He wasn’t planning to stand for re-election anyway though, so this one is probably not a shock. But it's important that no one else resi-

11.04am

Decarbonisation minister Jesse Norman resigns.

...

...

...

Time for a

✨Conspiracy Theory✨

Between Quince and Norman – as well as Neil O’Brien and Nick Gibb – we’re seeing several mid-ranking ministers resign, despite being generally regarded as fairly competent.

It’s possible they were fired in private, and they’re publicly resigning to save face.  But here’s another theory.

MPs aren’t allowed to seek commercial employment for six months after resigning from the government.

So hypothetically, if you were going to lose your seat in a general election, you’d want to have resigned six months earlier so you can still get a job.

If that’s what these guys are doing, it suggests we’re on track for a May 2024 election...?

11.05am

11.12am

Remember Cameron's financial scandal? Quick background here: David Cameron was specifically vice-chair of a £1bn China-UK investment fund.

So let’s see what throwback former leader Iain Duncan Smith thinks of Cameron’s return:

“I am astonished at this appointment. It seems to send a signal to China that we are pursuing business with them at all costs and any costs. Those who have been sanctioned now feel more abandoned than at any time. Those facing genocide and persecution will feel more abandoned than at any time.”

I cannot believe I am about to say this.

But.

I agree with Iain Duncan Smith *spits on floor*

11.50am

Former Tory deputy prime minister Lord Heseltine is asked to sum up the return of Cameron, and says it’s the “clearest signal that the sort of right wing lurch that we’ve seen and the anti-European movement that we’ve seen has been put to bed, and that will get a message across to people”.

12.13pm

A Tory MP is worried that Cameron’s return will turn back the clock on Brexit and Johnson’s election.

“It is very alarming. I am predicting a softening on small boats, a softening on legal migration. I would not be surprised if the ban on conversion therapy returns.”

... Don’t threaten me with a good time.

Anyway, let’s see how the public actually sees Cameron compared with other PMs!

Yeah, not sure people will mind if Cameron’s not Boris Johnson.

12.43pm

ITV political editor Robert Peston walks past a minister of state.  The minister’s on the phone, but takes a moment to heatedly shout at Peston, “The PM just sacked me!”

I guess some days are easier than others as a journalist

12.47pm

Therese Coffey resigns as environment secretary!!!!

*choirs of heavenly angels sing*

You'll remember her of course, Tumblrs - she was one of the thugs manhandling people into the 'right' voting lobbies to force their vote on the day of Liz Truss' fracking law. Rumour has it she still has the Whip handle in her ass.

A lot of people seem to be resigning today! But don't be fooled. In almost every case, it’ll be because they were told to resign.  They’ve been sacked, but they resign to save face. A last mercy from their benevolent leader.

My guess: Tessie here is terrible at media skills, so – get rid of her before she hurts general election chances. This, too, is a pattern.

12.52pm

Rachel Maclean sacked as Housing Minister! Fun fact, numbers fans: it took Doctor Who 33 years to make it to eight Doctors, but since the 2019 election, the Tories managed eight Housing Ministers in just under 4 years

trololol

1.15pm

Jeremy Quin quits as Minister for the Cabinet Office.

1.37pm

Times Political Editor Steven Swinford reports that No 10 is struggling to find a new housing minister (owing to rumours the job is cursed). Several people have turned it down, including Jeremy Quin. It is incredible to me that they didn't line someone up before sacking the last guy.

Kemi Badenoch and Michael Gove are apparently unhappy that Rachel Maclean was removed from the role. I for one do not care about the opinions of Kemi Badenoch or Michael Gove.

2.04pm

Health Secretary Steve Barclay becomes Environment Secretary.  This is effectively a demotion for him. It is our 5th Environment Secretary in four years. Chasing that Housing Minister record! It took 19 years for Doctor Who to have five Doctors

2.15pm

Richard Holden appointed new Conservative Party chairman.

A 2019-intake Tory MP, he led the charge against Sir Keir Starmer over Beergate, which did damage Starmer a bit (albeit not much, given that it turned out Starmer had complied with lockdown regs, and the accusation was nakedly to try and distract from Partygate).  So this appointment looks like more strategy to win the next election - someone not known enough to be hated, with what passes in the modern Tory party for a proven track record.

This could be a sign that the Tories intend to at least try to shore up the Red Wall votes? As unlikely as the Tories are to keep those seats.

That said, Holden’s seat disappears in a boundary change next election, sooooo … we'll see what they do there.

2.24pm

Victoria Atkins appointed Health Secretary, replacing Steve Barclay who’s moved to Environment Secretary. She's a relative unknown but also considered actually competent. Massive middle finger to Steve Barclay

2.37pm

Laura Trott (formerly in pensions) promoted to Chief Secretary to the Treasury.

2.42pm

Science minister George Freeman resigns.

3.18pm

YouGov conducts a snap poll: is the appointment of David Cameron as Foreign Secretary a good decision or a bad decision?

Good decision: 24%

Bad decision: 38%

Don't know: 38%

So that's going well

3.24pm

Greg Hands is made a business minister after losing the Tory chairman role.

John Glen moves from chief secretary to the Treasury to become the Minister for the Cabinet Office and Paymaster General.

3.39pm

With Cameron being a Lord now, he’ll be based in the House of Lords rather than the Commons.  The most recent Cabinet Minister to be based in the Lords was former Brexit minister Lord Frost, who did weigh in on the matter:

“[T]hough I was not running a whole Department too. I don’t think it works well to have a lead Cabinet Minister answering questions and defending their Department solely in the Lords. The Lords is not a fully party political environment - nor should it be - and voters are owed proper political scrutiny. In our system, that can only happen in the Commons.”

I cannot believe I am about to say this.

But.

I agree with Lord Frost *spits on floor*

The SNP had already called this out, with MP Stephen Flynn claiming, “The UK is not a serious country.”

4.21pm

Conservative MP Lee Rowley appointed the 16th housing minister in the past 13 years. Even counting David Tennant twice, that's more than all the Doctors Who we've ever had, and that took almost 60 years.

5.16pm

Sky News’s Tamara Cohen reports that Sunak sacked Braverman by phone this morning!  Downing Street says there won’t be any exchange of letters between them - this is almost unheard of. Politics runs on paper trails! Everything happens through formal letters! By phone!

It means we’re denied insight into their differences.  But Cohen reckons we’re likely to hear from Braverman on Wednesday, as the Supreme Court rules on the Rwanda scheme.

6.03pm

Tory MP Andrea Jenkyns, former Education Minister, submits no-confidence letter in Rishi Sunak.

It's almost like, in the absence of Dorries, she's decided that someone needs to step up and have a tantrum and that someone might as well be her. It is, actually, an extremely funny letter, as these letters go. Normally they're written with a sort of furious earnestness wrapped in formal language. I presume that Andrea Jenkyns MP, former Education Minister, was aiming for something similar, and the first paragraph manages it. But by the end you sort of start to wonder if this was supposed to be a letter she wrote with her therapist to get her feelings out:

My favourite line, when pulled in isolation, is "Yes Boris Johnson, the man who won the Conservative Party a massive majority, was unforgivable enough."

Yeah, Andrea babes. You're bang on there.

6.05pm

Esther McVey is appointed as Cabinet Office minister.  Not a full cabinet member, but she will attend cabinet meetings.

This is notable: unlike a lot of today’s appointments, she’s on the right of the party.  Her role will be to represent the government on TV and radio as much as possible, talking about gender/culture/British colonial history issues (i.e. she’s anti-woke and a screaming bigot).

In other words, with Braverman gone, McVey is an offering for the populist right of the party to try to appease them.

6.15pm

Sunak tweets about the new cabinet, claiming they’ll make “the right decisions for our great country, not the easy ones.”  So it looks like that’s the new slogan, and we're pressing on with austerity

6.27pm

Tim Loughton, a Tory MP on the “One Nation” wing (i.e the David Cameron side) responds to Andrea Jenkyns’s letter of no-confidence by tweeting:

“Where can we submit a letter of no confidence in the Pantomime Dame?”

(It’s Andrea he’s publicly referring to as a pantomime dame there. A lil joke from the Tories for you)

6.31pm

Paul Scully sacked as minister for London. Didn't know that one was a position.

9.43pm

Sunak says that only a two-state solution will allow a new future for Israel/Palestine.  This is, um, not what the Prime Minister of Israel wants.  Who knows whether the Prime Minister of Israel will survive this crisis anyway – but these are big words from Sunak.  Cameron’s influence? Maybe? Interesting either way

10.03pm

And then - PLOT TWIST!!!

According to ITV political editor Robert Peston, a senior government source reveals that Cameron was approached on TUESDAY. 

Which means plans were underway to get rid of Braverman not only before the far-right violence on Saturday, but before her anti-police article on Wednesday.  It seems she lost her job not because of what she said about police after all; but because she claimed homelessness was a lifestyle choice.

Well well.

11.05pm

And the day finishes with Andrea Leadsom back in government (as Under Secretary of State for Health and Social Care) which nobody saw coming!  Pretty demeaning to the other 300 Tory MPs who could have been given this.

The final response from numerous Tories: they are feeling jilted and insulted because David Cameron being brought back when he's NOT EVEN AN MP, RISHI suggests that they themselves are not good enough to be in government.

No one tell them

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

It Feels Like Home (Logan Howlett x F! Reader) Part 1/?

A/N: This is dedicated to anyone that requested a soft/hurt comfort Wolverine story. This is only the first part, I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: "The Worst One" Logan 'Wolverine' Howlett x F! Reader

Warnings: 18 + for language, mentions of abuse/assault, nightmares, showering together (non-sexual), being sick (cold), Logan being protective, deadpool and wolverine spoilers.

Word Count: 3.8K

It was just another boring Monday evening at the bar when you first met him. The floors were sticky, the jukebox in the corner crooning, drowning out the conversations only mildly interrupted by the cue balls smacking together. 

But when he entered, the room seemed to shift. His shoulders were slunched down, making him seem small but it did little to deter the others in the room from outright staring. And who could blame them? As he slid into the stool across from you, lifting his eyes to stare at you, you could feel the liquid pool inside you. The dark brown hair, tussled from running his fingers through it, lips swollen from constantly biting, and those eyes. It takes a moment before you realize he’s asked for a drink while you’ve been ogling him at your bar. 

You turn grabbing the whiskey and a glass, turning back and shouting when the owner, Jim, grabs your wrist tightly. “We don’t want you here,” he sneers at the man, no not a man a mutant, the last mutant. 

“Just give me one drink and I’ll go,” he sighs, tapping the bar with two fingers. 

“You’re not wanted here,” Jim lets go and pushes you further down the bar, ignoring how your feet stumble and you hit the counter hard, wincing. 

But the man at the bar doesn’t. “Take it easy,” he warns, eyes narrowing, “she didn’t do anything.” 

“Jim,” you clear your throat, putting down the glass and rubbing at your side, “we can give him one drink, right?” 

Jim glares and you lower your eyes, before he sighs loudly, “One drink, then he gets the fuck out of my bar.” He sticks out a finger towards you and you slowly raise your head, “and don’t fucking talk to him.” 

Jim walks back towards the office and slams the door, and you step forward, pulling out a fresh glass, putting it on the bar, and filling it. “I’m sorry about him,” you grab a rag and start cleaning glasses, “he can be a real asshole sometimes.” 

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be talking to me,” you stop and glance up, catching him staring at you as he quickly drinks the shot. 

“I can talk to whoever I want,” you go back to the glasses, “and for the moment, I choose you.” 

You grab the bottle and pour him another drink, ignoring those around you staring daggers into the side of your head. “You’re making some enemies,” he grabs the drink and downs it, eyes widening slightly when you fill it for a third time. “But I get the sense you don’t give a shit.” 

“I don’t,” you raise your head, leaning on the bar, tossing a finger back and forth, and raising your voice, “these fuckers try to make it seem like they are holier than thou by judging you. But we’ve all made mistakes in our life.” 

He swallows, tapping his fingers and watching as you fill the glass, “I made more than a mistake,” he raises the glass to his lips. 

“So it was on purpose?” the glass pauses and he lifts his eyes to meet yours, “because if that’s the case it changes things.” He narrows his eyes, lowering the glass with a clink as he sets it down hard on the bar, the liquid sloshing over the rim. His silence is telling and you break contact and go back to cleaning glasses, “maybe we started on the wrong foot,” you put the glass down with a sigh, telling him your name. 

He doesn’t respond and you roll your eyes, “This is usually the point where you tell me your name.” 

“Seems like you already know all about me, bub,” he grabs the glass and tosses it back with a wince. ���I’m the Wolverine, the fuck up, the murderer,” his glare could melt iron but you don’t bend easily keeping his gaze, “but they call me Logan.” 

“It’s nice to meet you,” you pour him another drink, “so what brings you to town?” 

Logan furrows his brow, “what the fuck?” 

“Business or pleasure?” you continue, ignoring him. You giggle when you glance at him, seeing the utter confusion on his face, “I’m trying to change the subject. I think you’ve had enough doom and gloom for a lifetime.” 

His eyes soften for a second, so quickly you could have blinked and missed it before he scoffs, “I’m just passing through.” 

“Where are you headed?” 

“I-” he hesitates, “I’m not sure.” 

“Stop fucking talking to him,” Ron one of the regulars stands behind him, and he slowly turns to look at him. “The boss told you to serve him one drink and get him the fuck out, are you hard of hearing? Stupid bitch.” 

“What did you say?” Logan turns all the way around and stands. The tension is electric as other patrons stand and take a menacing step closer. 

“Enough!” you shout, coming around the bar to stand in front of Logan, ignoring how he’s so tall he can see over your head. “Everyone stand down,” you lift your arms out like wrangling a bunch of raptors. “Ron, don’t be a fucking asshole!” 

Suddenly a gun shoots off to the right and you flinch curling in to cover your head, and a warm body wraps around you, tugging you into their chest. “What the fuck is going on here?!” Jim holds the shotgun and you straighten up, hands pressed to Logan’s chest, his hands still wrapped protectively around your waist. “Get your hands off my fucking bartender,” he swings the gun towards Logan who pushes you behind him. 

“Why don’t you lower the gun, bub?” Logan lifts a hand toward Jim. 

“You don’t tell me what do,” Jim aims the gun at him, “now pay your tab and get the fuck out of my bar.” 

Logan keeps an eye on the weapon, covering you with his body and pulling his wallet from his pocket, grabbing a hundred dollar bill, and putting it on the bar. He turns to look at you over his shoulder, his voice quiet when he whispers, “see you around, sweetheart,” before taking off through the side door. 

The silence stretches, and Jim lowers the gun before turning to you with a glare, “My office, now!” 

The ass-chewing you received that night should have been enough to deter you from ever speaking the name Logan again but the next night when he showed up sitting in the same stool at the bar, you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips. “Hi,” you whispered, glancing around the mostly empty bar, Jim was off for the evening, and the other patrons already lost in their cups. Tuesdays were always the slowest. 

“Hey bub,” his voice is gravely and sends shivers down your spine. He waits for you to pour him a drink before catching your wrist softly when you pull back with the bottle, “you okay?” 

You pull from his touch and put down the bottle, his hand quickly retreating thinking you don’t want his touch. You put out your hand, palm up and he watches you for a moment before slowly putting his hand in your waiting palm. You squeeze, smiling at him, “I got my ass chewed out, and threatened to lose my job but besides that nothing. Jim knows he needs me.” 

“I’m sorry I got you into trouble,” he looks around, “he around tonight?” 

“No, he’s never in on Tuesdays. And he usually leaves by 11:30 each night.” The edge of his lips curves for a second before he tosses back the drink, understanding what you’re trying to tell him, and he nods. 

“That’s good.” 

The rest of the week passes much the same, Logan showing up well after midnight when the majority of the crowd and Jim have retired for the evening. The two of you sharing stories over whiskey, and 80’s power ballads. There was something safe about having Logan there, an understanding between the two of you, you’d never experienced with another. 

Each night he’d wait as you locked up the bar, walking you to your car before taking off down the street, an uneasy friendship forming. But everything changed on Saturday. You woke with a splitting headache and a fever, tossing and turning in bed, sweating through the sheets you reached for the cell on the bedstand, and texted Jim you wouldn’t be in. 

The whole day was miserable, laying there sick as a dog and trying to keep down water and some soup from the cabinet. It was around 11:00 pm when you felt the fever finally break and you lifted your phone to see the time. It only took a second through the haze to feel the utter terror take over. “Logan,” you gasped pushing back the blanket and getting dressed as quickly as possible, the whole process taking you longer than normal. 

Logan stumbled out into the alley, the crowd cheering behind him as his inebriated body slammed into the trash cans. “Taking out the trash!” Jim shouts with a grin before spitting on him and slamming the door shut. 

He didn’t bother getting up, it wasn’t worth the effort. He lowered his head back and looked at the stars sprinkled across the sky seeing a swell of clouds looming in the distance, his heart starting to beat faster at the sting in his eyes. He closes his eyes as the first drop of rain falls from the sky, and he lets it quickly drown him, his clothes plastered to his skin. 

“Storm,” he whispers her name, his chest tightening as he struggles to breathe through the pain. His friends are dead and gone, and it’s all his fault. He’s so lost in his thoughts he doesn’t hear the footsteps getting closer. 

“Fuck,” you blink, glancing down at him and he slowly opens his eyes squinting as the water drips down his forehead. You purse your lips for a moment before sighing and leaning down, balancing the umbrella in one hand and reaching for him with the other, “Come on, help me.” 

“Leave me,” he slurs, cursing when you don’t quit, “fuckin’ leave me!” 

“Nope, not happening,” you drop the umbrella and quickly get soaked in the downpour, “come on, time to get up.” He growls, and you see the beginning of his claws break through his knuckles, “going to stab me?” You raise a brow at him, “then do it.” 

His claws retract and he sighs loudly before standing on unsteady legs, his body leaning forward to faceplant when you grab him around the waist. “Fuck,” he’s heavy, and you struggle before getting him upright and leading him toward the parking lot. 

A couple of men stand outside the door to the bar by some bikes and you try to hide his face as you shuffle him toward your car. “You finally taking one of the boys up on their offer?” they jeer at you and you smile tightly walking faster, and cursing when you hear the boots sound behind you. 

“Come on,” you urge the man beside you, “they can’t see you.” You reach the car, open the passenger door, and shove him inside, quickly shoving in his leg and turning around to lean against the door, blocking him, your breathing fast and hard from the effort. 

“Wait,” one of the men stops, squinting through the glass, “is that, that fuckin’ mutant?” They all freeze looking between the man slumped in your car and you, and you back up as they move closer. “You like mutants, slut?” they close in and you reach for the key in your pocket, hand quickly finding the pepper spray and sliding the safety off. 

The words spewing out of their mouths are vile, the rain soaking through their clothes as they corner you into the streetlight. The smell of their breaths reeks of alcohol and you go to pull out the pepper spray when one grabs your wrist and twists, smiling when you let out a painful gasp. “Oh, come on slut, we know you like it rough,” he grins.

“Let her go,” they all freeze, turning and staring at the man leaning against your car. 

One of the men, grabs your arm and pulls you into his chest, his hand running over your breasts, “and what are you going to do about it?” You squirm trying to get away from his touch, and the claws extend, his hand quickly leaving your breast to push you behind him. 

“You don’t want to do this,” Logan warns, pushing off the car and standing straight. 

“Oh, I think we do,” the man in front of you smiles, pulling brass knuckles from his pocket. You watch with wide eyes as they pull out a variety of weapons; guns, knives, and even nunchucks. The air is electric, the streetlight flickering as if it senses the tension before one of the men shouts, “Come on, let’s go!” 

Logan grins, “Let’s fucking go.” 

You drop to your knees and crawl through their legs, scrambling up before the axe drops and reach for Logan, coughing up a storm and trying to catch your breath, his claws retract as he grabs you pulling you into his chest and looking down at you with a furrowed brow. “What’s wrong-”

“Don’t kill them,” you hold the lapels of his coat, nails digging in as he growls at them over the top of your head as if they made you sick, “it will only make things worse.” 

“I won’t kill them,” he pushes you behind him with a grin, “just a little light maiming.” You nod and turn towards the car, sitting in the driver's seat escaping the rain and turning on the heater. The screams are quickly drowned out when you turn up the music, reach for a towel from your swim bag in the backseat, and dry your body the best you can. 

A few minutes later the passenger door opens and Logan plops beside you. He’s covered in blood but you don’t comment, tossing him the towel and heading towards home. The ride home is silent and when you pull into your house, he gets out before the key is out of the ignition. You scramble out, watching as he walks back towards the road, “where are you going?” 

“Listen,” he stops looking back towards you, water dripping down his face, “I appreciate what you did back there. But that is where this partnership ends, I don’t need your charity. Just follow the rest of the world and hate me, it will save you a lot of trouble.” 

He turns away and you follow, “Listen, it’s freezing outside, and I know for a fact you have nowhere to go. It won’t kill you to accept help for a night.” 

“No,” he turns angrily, “but it could very well get you killed. Those guys back there were ready to assault you for helping me. Imagine what people will do to you if they find out you let me stay here. I have enough blood on my hands.” 

“So you’re going back to the park to sleep?” you put your hands on your hips, his brow furrowing. “You’ve been at the bar every night for the past week. You leave when I do and I see you go into the park.” 

“You stalking me, princess?” he sneers. 

“No,” you shake your head, shivering, “but I see someone that could use some help. And I am offering it. Take it.” 

He watches you for several moments, and you feel your fingers start to lose feeling from the cold, shoulders trembling as you tuck your hands into your jacket. “Fine,” he bites, following behind you as you lead the way to the door, hiding your smile. Your fingers shake, the key struggling to find the lock and he holds onto your hand, his hands solid and warm helping you unlock the door before quickly pulling away. 

“You need to get warm,” he mumbles quietly, locking the door behind him and pushing you further into the house. The water pools beneath you and he frowns before sweeping his hands under your legs and lifting you into his arms. “Where’s the bathroom?” your eyes are wide as you wrap your arms around his neck, nodding towards the stairs. 

He doesn’t break a sweat as he carries you up and into the bathroom. He sits you down gently, quickly going to turn the shower on, the steam filling the room. You struggle with the zippers and buttons on your clothes, the shaking worse now that you’re out of the rain and he watches for a moment before sighing loudly. 

“Trust me,” you snap your head up, raising one brow and gasping when his claws descend on his right hand, “I won’t look.” 

“What are you-” the words evaporate when he runs the claw down your front, you close your eyes waiting for the pain but nothing happens except your clothes falling to your feet in ribbons. When you open your eyes you see his back, stiff as he faces the door, “thanks.” 

He doesn’t reply except to nod, and you pull back the curtain and pause, hesitating for a moment. “Do you want to join me?” His head snaps to look at you, his eyes on your own, never straying lower. “I don’t mean anything sexual, I just….I just thought we could both be warm.” 

His eyes change, less of the harsh lines, something complex, and his eyes keep yours as he starts to strip. You give him a moment when he hesitates at the suit hidden behind his clothes and you get under the hot water, letting it warm you up. A moment later the curtain moves back and he fills the space behind you. 

You turn towards the wall, letting out a harsh cough, and he leans around you reaching for the soap, “you’re sick,” he doesn’t bother phrasing it as a question, “why the hell were you out in this weather?” 

You turn, looking at him, water dripping down into your lashes, “I knew you would come. I thought if I could stop you before you went inside and I wasn’t there. I was trying to protect you.” 

His eyes soften, and he nods, “let me take care of you, sweetheart.” He rubs his hands together, holding them hesitantly before you step into his touch, allowing him to wash you. You relax under his touch and he turns you, stepping behind you to press his chest flush to your back, your head leaning back over his shoulder as he rinses you under the hot water. He repeats the process with your hair, allowing you to close your eyes and rest your head on his chest while he cleans you both. 

It’s the most intimate you’ve ever been with a man, and you’d had sex several times before. But something about this was different, his hands tracing over your body was not sexual both of you getting comfort from the touch. 

You lift your head, and he freezes almost as though you’re going to tell him to fuck off, but instead you pump some shampoo into your head and gesture for him to bend down. He does without complaint and his eyes drift closed as you wash his hair, his hands resting gently on your hips, you take your time, washing off the dirt and grime. You can’t help but wonder when the last time he had a shower was before you’re directing him under the water to rise. His lips release a soft moan, and you smile softly seeing him so relaxed. 

He slowly opens his eyes, seeing your lips turned up and he tugs you back into his chest. The water begins to turn cold, and he quickly leans down to turn it off, before pulling you back into his arms and resting his head against your own. You feel the ghost of his lips press to your forehead before he reaches for the towels and wraps them around your body. 

He gets out first, reaching a hand out to help you out before drying you completely. “I think I have some clothes that might fit you.” He pauses, looking at you questioningly, “my ex left some of his clothes when he skipped town, they might fit you.” 

He nods, watching as you go into the bedroom, coming back out in fresh pajamas and handing him the shirt and boxers. You leave him to get dressed, waiting in the hallway and leaning against the wall with your eyes closed, your head throbbing. 

The door quietly opens and you stand up straight opening your eyes to see him in the black t-shirt and plaid boxers. “Goodnight,” he mumbles, walking past you back towards the living room. 

“Wait,” you reach out without thinking, hand landing on his shoulder, solid and so warm. He glances down at your hand and you go to pull away when he reaches for it, holding it lightly in his own. “You can sleep with me,” you swallow down the nerves, “if you want. No pressure, just..I don’t want to be alone tonight.” 

He watches you, contemplation clear on his face weighing the pros and cons. He gives a shallow nod, squeezing your hand before letting go. You don’t question it, turning back towards your bedroom, Logan’s footsteps following close behind. You tug the curtains closed, flicking on the fan overhead and pulling down the covers, Logan’s hand hovers over the t-shirt before pulling it off and climbing into the bed. 

You can’t help the way your eyes trail down over his muscles and a smile tugs just barely at the corner of his lips when he opens his arms and you collapse into them. He reaches across, flicking off the lamp and you both relax into one another, sleep quickly claiming you as his breathes even out. 

Sometime around 3 am Logan begins to stir, his arms around you tightening and his breath quickening.You grogilly rub your eyes and lean back, watching his head thrash back and forth as he starts to mumble. “Jean, Scott, Charles, Storm, Beast-” he repeats the names tormented and you put a hand to his chest feeling his pulse race. 

“Logan,” you whisper, rubbing gently the crease between his forehead, “it’s just a nightmare. Come back to me,” he stills, his heart still racing beneath your palm but he slowly blinks open his eyes. “You’re safe,” you whisper, his hand clutching the one on his chest tightly, his eyes wide, frightened from his dreams. “You’re safe, come back to me,” you tighten your grip on his hand, “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Everyone leaves me,” he whispers, brokenly, pressing his forehead to your own, your heart shattering for this man. 

“I won’t,” you shake your head, wrapping your arms around him and pulling his head into your chest, “you’re safe here, you’re home.”

I hope you enjoyed and let me know what you think!