#this fic is just lets see how many times bonnie can be with a man she isn’t supposed to be with

[dippindaz]

Ride or Die, Part 1, (Billy Hargrove x Reader)

Please enjoy this Bonnie and Clyde/Partners in crime fic for Billy <3 I don't know how many parts it will be yet, but know there's more to come!

The world felt quieter in the late hours of summer, the kind of silence that made you aware of every creak of a floorboard or whisper of the wind. The Hargrove-Mayfield house was unusually still, the tension that usually filled its walls replaced by an uneasy calm. Billy was perched on the edge of the couch, the glow of a cigarette illuminating his sharp features in the dim light.

“You can’t keep doing that,” you said, stepping into the living room. Your arms were crossed, but your tone lacked the sharpness you wanted.

“Doing what?” he muttered, exhaling a plume of smoke.

“Walking into fights like you’ve got nothing to lose.”

Billy’s laugh was low and humorless. “You think I don’t?”

You faltered, hating the way his words made your chest tighten. “That’s not what I meant,” you said softly, sitting beside him. “I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

He glanced at you, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ve been through worse, haven’t I?”

You didn’t reply, your silence enough of an answer. Billy might have a habit of brushing off danger like it didn’t matter, but you saw through it—the way his hands clenched when he thought no one was watching, the way his jaw tightened at the sound of raised voices.

“I’m serious, Billy,” you said, your voice firmer now. “You don’t have to keep proving yourself to people who don’t care about you.”

He dropped his cigarette into an empty soda can, the hiss of the embers snuffed out breaking the quiet. “What do you want me to do, then? Let people walk all over me? Let them—”

“Let them what?” you pressed when he cut himself off.

His jaw clenched, his gaze flicking away. “Forget it.”

Before you could push further, a sudden, sharp knock on the door shattered the fragile peace. Billy was on his feet in an instant, his shoulders tense as he crossed the room.

“Who the hell shows up this late?” he muttered, throwing the door open without bothering to check who it was.

The man on the other side was big, his frame filling the doorway. You didn’t recognize him, but there was something about the way he looked at you—his eyes cold and calculating—that made your stomach twist.

“You Rich’s daughter?” the man asked, his voice low and rough.

Billy crossed his arms, his stance rigid. “Who the hells askin’?”

The man glanced at Billy but didn’t answer, his gaze shifting back to you. Your blood ran cold. You didn’t recognize this man, but knowing your father you had a few good guesses. “What do you want?” You asked.

The man’s shoulders were rigid as he took another step closer, his boots scuffing against the worn carpet. Billy stood his ground, his jaw clenched, tension rippling through his frame like a coiled spring.

“What I want,” the man sneered, his voice low and venomous, “is for you to pay up. Your old man owes me, and if he’s not gonna settle, I’ll take what I’m owed from you.” His eyes flicked toward you, and your stomach dropped.

“Like hell you will,” Billy snapped, stepping in front of you. His voice was sharp enough to cut, vibrating with fury.

The man’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “That’s cute, kid. But you ain’t in a position to make threats.”

Time seemed to slow. The air was heavy, thick with unspoken violence. You could feel the tremor of fear threading through your chest, but you stayed rooted to the spot, too stunned to move.

Then the man lunged.

Billy reacted instantly, shoving you back so hard you stumbled against the wall. You barely registered the impact before they collided, their bodies slamming into each other like crashing waves.

“Billy!” you shouted, scrambling to your feet as they grappled.

The man was bigger, stronger, his fists swinging with brutal precision, but Billy fought like someone who had nothing to lose. His fury was a wildfire, consuming everything in its path, his movements raw and unrelenting.

Furniture toppled, the coffee table splintering under their combined weight. The lamp shattered, plunging the room into flickering darkness as shadows danced across the walls. You wanted to intervene, to stop this before it went too far, but you couldn’t move. Your voice was caught in your throat, swallowed by the chaos.

“Stay back!” Billy barked through gritted teeth; his eyes wild as he pinned the man against the couch. His knuckles were already bloodied, but he didn’t stop.

Then it happened.

The man twisted suddenly, grabbing something off the floor—a shard of glass from the broken lamp. It glinted in the dim light, and for a heart-stopping moment, it was aimed directly at Billy’s ribs.

“No!” you screamed, surging forward instinctively.

But Billy was faster. His hand closed around the man’s wrist, wrenching it away with a sickening crack. The man’s howl of pain was short-lived. In the next heartbeat, Billy’s fist connected with his jaw, and the man went down hard, his head hitting the edge of the broken coffee table with a dull, final thud.

Silence.

Billy stayed crouched over him, his chest heaving, his bloodied fists trembling. The man didn’t move.

“Billy…” your voice was barely a whisper, thick with disbelief.

Billy staggered back, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to,” he said, his voice barely audible. “He—he woulda hurt you, and I—”

He paused when your shaky form stepped towards the man. You crouched down and your trembling hand reached out to touch the man’s neck.

Nothing.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, your heart hammering in your chest. It didn’t feel real. It couldn’t be possible, could it?

“Oh, god, baby, I—”

“We have to go,” you said, cutting him off. You jumped up from your position. “Billy, we have to go right now.”

He didn’t move, his gaze locked on the lifeless body. “I didn’t mean to,” he repeated, his voice cracking.

“Billy!” you snapped, grabbing his arm and shaking him. “Listen to me. We have to leave. You hear me? If we stay here, you are going to get in big big trouble.”

That seemed to snap him out of it. He nodded, swallowing hard, though he didn’t respond.

You moved swiftly from the living room of the house to your room. You grabbed your bag, dumping whatever notebooks and papers from school were in it on the floor and swiftly packed up some essentials and all the money you had hidden. It wasn’t much, you hoped it would be enough for now.

You went back out to the living room, where Billy still stood, staring at the body on the floor. For a brief moment you hesitated. What if you two wouldn’t get in trouble? It was self-defense, but a man died. He wouldn’t come back, and you knew self-defense wasn’t taken seriously enough in a court of law. With the death of a person involved? No. You needed to leave and get Billy out of here as quickly as you could.

You grabbed Billy’s arm and dragged him out to the Camaro. As you walked your eyes scanned the Hawkins trailer park. Nothing and no one. Not even a breeze. It disturbed you.

Billy pulled the keys to the Camaro out of his pocket, but you snatched them out of his hands. He wasn’t in the position to be driving right now; he was barely moving without you prompting him. And surprisingly, he didn’t fight you. You both jumped into the car, him in the passenger and you in the driver’s side. You threw your bag into the backseat as you started the car. The tires slide against the dirt driveway for half a second before gaining enough friction for you to properly drive away, your heart pounding in time with the roar of the engine.

Neither of you spoke as the miles rolled by, the weight of what had just happened settling over you like a storm cloud.

It wasn’t until you were far from Hawkins, the town already long gone in the rearview mirror, that Billy finally broke the silence.

“I’ll take care of it,” he said, his voice low but resolute.

You glanced at him, your stomach still twisted in knots. You were quiet. There wasn’t anything to take care of. There wasn’t any fixing this. There was no going back. But still, you asked, “Of what?”

“All of it,” he said, his voice a bit softer this time. “Whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

You wanted to believe him, but as you looked at his bloodied knuckles and the hard set of his jaw, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all his fault. At the same time, this happened because he already was keeping you safe. It was an accident. He hadn’t meant to. You knew that. You weren’t sure what to say, so instead you reached over, gently grabbing his hand.

And that was enough for him.

——————————————————————————————————

It had to have been at least 3 AM, at least 2 hours of straight driving, by the time Billy told you to take an exit off the highway and pull into some large, rundown parking lot. You were both hungry and thirsty but nowhere was open near you guys and even more than that, you were exhausted.

The parking lot was eerily silent, illuminated only by the flickering glow of a few broken streetlights. The Camaro came to a stop near the edge of the lot, far from the dim halo of light. You turned the key, and the engine sputtered into silence, leaving only the distant hum of the highway in the background.

Billy slumped against the passenger seat, running a hand over his face, smearing dried blood across his cheek. His knuckles were raw, and the faint tremor in his hands hadn’t stopped since you’d left Hawkins.

“I’ll figure something out,” he muttered, breaking the quiet. His voice was hoarse, strained, as if he didn’t believe the words himself.

You didn’t respond at first, leaning forward to rest your forehead against the steering wheel. The tension of the last few hours clung to you like a second skin, and the exhaustion weighed heavy in your limbs. When you finally looked up, Billy was staring out the windshield, his jaw tight, lost in whatever storm was brewing inside him.

“Billy,” you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. “Let me clean you up.”

He shook his head, still not looking at you. “I don’t need help. I just—I need to think.”

“Stop,” you cut in firmly, your hand tightening on his arm. “You don’t have to do this alone. Not now, not ever. We’re in this together, okay?”

That made him turn to you, his blue eyes glassy with a mixture of anger and regret. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’m no good for you.”

You felt your heart twist at his words. Gently, you cupped his face with your hands, ignoring the sting of dried blood against your palms. “You’re wrong,” you said, your voice steady. “You’re all I’ve got, Billy. We get through this together, or we don’t get through it at all.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his walls faltering. Then he leaned into your touch, his forehead resting against yours. The proximity was grounding, the warmth of his breath against your skin a small comfort in the chaos.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Neither do I,” you replied honestly. “But we’ll figure it out.”

He nodded faintly, closing his eyes for a brief second. When he opened them again, there was a flicker of something more familiar—a spark of the fire that had always kept him moving forward, no matter how bad things got.

“We should sleep,” he said after a long silence, pulling back slightly.

You glanced around the empty lot, the worn leather of the Camaro seats creaking as you shifted. “Here?”

He gave a half-hearted shrug. “Just for a couple of hours. Then we’ll keep going.”

You hesitated, but the exhaustion was winning out over logic. “Okay. But you’re first,” you said, crossing your arms. “I’ll keep watch.”

Billy opened his mouth to argue, but the look you gave him silenced any protest. With a begrudging nod, he leaned the seat back and tried to settle in.

As the minutes passed, his breathing evened out, and you watched him in the faint glow of the distant streetlights. He looked younger, softer in sleep, though the blood and bruises on his skin were harsh reminders of the night’s events.

You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, holding on like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. And for now, it was enough.

You and Billy took your turns resting throughout what little was left of the night and Billy was swift to make you switch places with him. Once you did, the drive to nowhere began. The two of you still didn’t have a plan. You weren’t sure you ever would. What could you do? Right now, it didn’t matter. You couldn’t let yourself get panicked over something you could do nothing about.

The miles passed slowly, the highway stretching endlessly ahead of you. The soft hum of the engine and the rhythmic whir of the tires on asphalt were the only sounds. You pulled your knees up to your chest, trying to push back the ache of exhaustion and anxiety gnawing at your insides.

You and Billy hadn’t spoken a word since the car started. The silence felt heavier than the night itself, pressing down on you as the endless ribbon of highway unfurled in front of the Camaro. You risked a glance at Billy, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles were bone white. His gaze was fixed straight ahead, his jaw clenched in a way that made his bruised knuckles seem less noticeable.

“Billy,” you murmured, breaking the quiet, though you weren’t entirely sure what you wanted to say.

His eyes flicked toward you briefly, guarded, before returning to the road. “What?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

You hesitated. He wasn’t angry with you—at least, you didn’t think so. But he was angry. At the world, maybe. At himself.

“I’m... I’m just checking in,” you finally said, your voice softer. “You’ve been quiet.”

Billy let out a humorless laugh, a sharp exhale through his nose. “What’s there to say?”

You frowned, pulling your knees closer to your chest as you turned to face him. “I don’t know. Something. Anything. You’re acting like this is just another drive.”

He said nothing at first, his jaw working as if he were chewing on the words he didn’t want to say. “It’s not,” he muttered after a long pause. “But talking about it won’t change what happened.”

“No,” you admitted, “but it might make it feel... less like,” You paused and vaguely gestured around the car. “Less like this.”

Billy’s grip on the wheel loosened slightly, and he leaned back in his seat, exhaling sharply. “You don’t need to worry about me,” he said, glancing at you again. “I’ll handle it.”

You rolled your eyes, the words pulling an unexpected reaction from you. “You keep saying that like it’s all on you,” you snapped, your exhaustion and fear sharpening your tone. “It’s not, Billy. We’re in this together.”

His head turned, his blue eyes locking on yours for a moment before looking back at the road. “I know,” he said, his voice quieter now. “But I’m not dragging you down with me. I won’t.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” you said, leaning forward, your tone firm but not unkind. “I’m here, Billy. With you and I’m staying.”

The weight of your words hung between you, and for a moment, the only sound was the hum of the Camaro’s engine.

Billy’s hand slipped from the wheel, reaching across the console toward you. Without thinking, you took it, your fingers threading through his. His hand was warm but trembling slightly, the cracks in his tough exterior showing in the smallest of ways.

“Thanks,” he muttered, almost too softly for you to hear.

You squeezed his hand, your thumb brushing over his bruised knuckles. “Always.”

The tension between you eased just slightly, enough for you to rest your head against the window. The two of you might not have a plan yet, but you had each other. For now, that would have to be enough.

[sofasoap]

Pictures of you

Pairing : John “ Soap ” MacTavish x F!Reader Side of Simon "Ghost" Riley x Mini MacTavish

Summary : The hallway of MacTavish house is dotted with family photos. But there is one that is your favourite. Part 2 of Hello There

This is following the Ghost timeline of the Mini Verse.

Part of “ Mini MacTavish verse” , The character is really flatmate of Mini which I gave her the name “Emma” in other fic, but here you can place any name you want here in this fic.

Warning : M rated, passing hint of smut time, flirting. Swearing.

Character of Mini MacTavish is from @saltofmercury fic  “The Favorite MacTavish” ” which she graciously let me borrow and write bit more expanded universe. Please go read her wonderful story to get bit of background

 “masterlist” for more prequel to this Mini MacTavish expanded 

“What ye doing still up bonnie?” You jumped a bit when you heard the husky voice of Johnny from top of the staircase. His strong Scottish accent seeping through with his half asleep mind. 

“Johnny, you scared me.” Putting your hand over your chest, trying to calm your rapid beating heart. If you were half sleepy before from pacing up and down the corridor, now you are sure you are fully awake from his unexpected appearance. “Sorry. I heard noises so I thought I should check up on you. But you weren’t in your room.” he apologises as he slowly makes his way down the staircase. “I couldn’t sleep.” Stifling a yawn as you reply, Soap chuckled. “Doesn’t look like it.” Your body was tired, but mentally you were still running high from all the residue excitement from Simon and Mini’s wedding. 

While the rest of the Riley family stayed on bit longer at the MacTavish farm for extended holiday, you and Soap had returned to London for work. “Have fun with Johnny!!” Mini winked at you as they sent you off at the airport. That’s when it hit you, for the first time ever, you and Soap will be alone in the house. Without the Mini and Simon hovering around, or having to babysit the Twins. Just the two of you.

He had volunteered to travel back with you when you were helping Mini to organise the wedding and everyone’s flight.

“My duty as the best man is to make sure the maid of honour makes it back home safely.” He winks at you with one of his signature cheeky smiles.

You can see his figure a bit more clearly as he tries to walk around all the packing boxes scattered along the corridor. Mini and Simon had found a new house nearby to move into after the wedding. You decided it might be time for you to move out as well. You don’t want to overstay your welcome. Besides, the reason why you moved in was to help out looking after the twins when Mini and Simon were going through the period of rift before reconciliation. What you didn’t expect as Soap was almost half pleading and half jokingly asking you to stay.

“Who is going to clean and look after the house for me while I am away on duty?” He pouted

You shot him an unimpressive look. “Get a cleaner.” 

“Please bonnie. You know how I am with someone I don’t know snooping around the house.” grasping both of your shoulders with his callous hand, desperation sipping through his voice. All the while Mini looked on with a hint of amusement. You turned to face your friend, she just shrugged, letting you make the final decision. In the end you decided to stay on. You just couldn’t resist those damn baby blue eyes. Pleading you like a poor kicked puppy.You didn’t understand why he was so eager for you to stay on. Even promising you the free rent offer before Mini and you first move in still stands. 

After his admission during the wedding? Everything becomes clear. 

This man is absolutely besotted with you. 

Your face starts burning when you realise he is topless and only wearing his lounge pants. You swallowed hard. Get a grip!! You try to tell yourself. It’s not the first time you saw him half naked. You have seen him topless so many times. And each time you cannot stop yourself from ogling at his beautiful chisel chest and abdomen muscles. The corded arms that have circled your waist when you two were sharing the dance with the newly wedded couple. “So you just walk up and down the hallway when you can’t sleep?” Soap mused.

“Trying to tire myself out. Besides, I am looking at the photos.”

Photos you pass by everyday. The hallway is dotted with MacTavish family photos. From photos of Mini and a Pre-teen Soap holding his baby sister for the first time, to Mini’s university graduation photos, first photos of the Riley twins when they were still in ICU. and hiding in the corner, the newly printed photo of Riley family. Simon reluctantly ( as Mini said, he was too shy to admit he was embarrassed) agreed to take a family photo. Mini showing her brilliant smile (MacTavish trait? You wondered. Noticing the similarity between the two siblings when they smile.) The twins both had their hands reaching out towards the side, being distracted by their uncle Soap , trying to make them focus on the camera, and Simon, looking down at Mini, the softness he only shows when he is totally focused on his wife. You love looking at all these photos, the love of family. Give you that warm fuzzy feeling when you are feeling down or stressed and tired from work. Or missing your own family, who is living far away. 

and you always land your sight on the photos right at the end of the wall. Your favourite out of all. A photo of young John Campbell MacTavish.

In his SAS No.2 dress uniform, with the unusual serious expression. Piercing blue eyes as if he can see through you. 

Subconsciously, you have turned your head away from Soap, staring at the picture you had just thought of in your mind. Reaching out to touch the glass panel on the frame, pointing at the eyes.

“How did this happen?” 

“Badge of honour. Or you can say damn good luck from the first deployment.” He reaches out and guides your hand towards his left eyes. You can just feel the slight bump of the scar, but it has faded over time. 

Closing his eyes, you can feel him shiver slightly as you run your fingers delicately down the length of the scar.  “And this one?” you always notice the little tiny patch around his chin where the beard wouldn’t grow.

“Believe it or not. I have Mini to blame for that.” He chuckled. “Was teaching her how to use a combat knife, and I totally underestimated her swiftness, I dodge out of the way just in time.” Eyes drifting down towards his chest, towards the round bullet wound scar close to his heart.

“..... Was this …” hovering above it, not daring to touch it.  As if you are afraid it will provoke the wound. You remember the day you tried hard to comfort Mini, upon receiving the news Soap was critically injured and in coma.  From what she and Simon described later on, it was a damn miracle Soap managed to pull through. “Someone must have pulled his soul back into his ass that day.” Simon being Simon, showing the way he cares, with dry humour.

“Mini couldn’t stop crying that day.” You recalled. 

“Did you cry for me as well?” He leaned closer, with a slight smirk on his face. 

“You wish. I was more heart broken for Mini than for you.” You don’t want to stroke his ego. But in fact, other than feeling sad for your friend, you didn’t expect the news of his injury to hit you so hard. The moment you realise you have more feelings for him than just a crush. You care about him,a lot. Not just as your best friend’s brother. 

Sliding your hand lower towards his abdomen, there is a fresh looking scar, extending to the side of his waist. “Lass, if you go any lower than that. I am not sure if I can control myself.” He rested his head against your temple, voice dropped an octave, “ I promised you I will take you out for a date first before doing anything. And I intend to keep that promise.” 

You remembered what Mini first said about her brother. “My brother might be a man whore, but he is a very gentlemanly manwhore. He won’t make a move on you unless you say the word.” 

Oh the urge of having him right there and then was strong. And you gave into it.  Playing with the elastic waistband of his pants, you let out an airy reply into his ear, “What if I give you permission?” 

That opens a floodgate. He grabbed you by the waist, pulling you closer, you can already feel his hardened arousal as your body is flush against his. 

“You don’t know what you are getting yourself into.” “Oh I do know.”

You opened your eyes, looking at the unfamiliar bedsheet. That’s right, you are in Johnny’s bed. Naked, and sore. A very good,satisfying sore, you might add.

But his side of the bed is empty. Still residue of warmth to it, so he must have gotten up not long ago. Propping yourself up into a sitting position trying to recall details from last night after he hauled you over his shoulder like a sack of rice and carried you upstairs, full of purpose.

He made sure you are well satisfied before taking care of his own urge and need. You never had anyone else before that being so caring and thoughtful. They always focus on themselves first, not even concerned if you enjoyed it or not.  He treats you like a queen, pouring all his love into every touch and kisses he showered onto you. 

Creaking of the door pulls you back from the memory from the night before, you saw Soap pushing the door open with his butt, with a tray of food and coffee and tea in his hands. “Morning bonnie. Had a good sleep?” “Well if someone didn’t keep me up so much last night, I might have?” you stuck your tongue out with a cheeky reply. 

“I didn’t hear you complain about it.” Chuckling as he moves closer to the bed and sets the tray in your lap, before pulling out the little tray legs on the side and making sure it is steady before letting go.

“Breakfast in bed? What a great service!” your eyes went wide with choices of food in front of you. 

“Consider this as our first date? Even though we are doing it in the wrong order.” he smiled sheepishly.

“Hey. I don’t mind. I was the one that said yes.” patting the space beside you, he slides into bed with you and joins in.

“I don’t know what you feel like this morning.. So..” waving his hand gesturing towards the tray, “ Um, I got tea and coffee, some muffins, pancakes, fruits…oh, if you want cereal, I’ll go grab it from downstairs.” 

Is he flustering? Gone was that confident man from last night, now he’s a shy boy trying to impress his date with great effort. 

“Thank you Johnny.” You lean into his shoulder. You are quite touched with his thoughtfulness. You don’t want to admit it but you are falling for him even harder now.

“When are you leaving?” You asked while taking a sip of coffee. “Tonight.” putting his muffin on the tray, he smiled down at you sadly. The pang of sorrow hits you. 

Is this what Mini feels every time Simon leaves for work? How you hate that feeling. You don’t know how she endured it time and time again. You often see her sobbing silently, after putting the twins to bed, missing her love and not knowing when he will return. IF he will return.

Now you know how she feels.

“When will you be back?” you look down at the mug of coffee in your hand. Whispering. 

“Few months. Hey. hey, look at me."He lifts your head up gently by your chin, “ Don’t cry. I’ll keep in contact in between, ya?” you didn’t even realise you were crying until he started wiping your tears away with his thumb, caressing your cheek gently. Leaning down, giving you a soft kiss and leaning his head against yours, “Besides, I need to check up on you every now and then to see the house has been burnt down.” 

You let out a sobbing laugh. Trust him to lighten up the atmosphere. “I think you will hear from Simon before you hear from me if I destroy the house. “

“Mmm true. That gossiper.” pulling away slightly, “Come on, eat up before it gets cold. I’ll take you to work later.” He nudges you gently.

As promised, he returned to you months later, slightly scratched but alive and well. 

You were standing at the doorway, with an open arm to welcome him home . He was so overwhelmed and caught up by your excitement, for the first time ever, apart from his own family, he had someone to come home to. 

He dropped his duffle bag down, grabbing your hand with his, and kneel down and blurted out his declaration of love and proposed to you.

You froze. 

So did he. Gaped-mouth. Looks like he didn’t expect himself to do that either. 

“I .. I am sorry bonnie. Ah. um. Dont worry about it.” Soap quickly stood up, face and ears totally red after seeing your shock expression. Taking your silence as a rejection he grabbed his bag, shoulders slumped and quickly pushed past you, trying to cover up his embarrassment.

You touch his arm to stop him.

“Yes.”  You took a breath in, repeating it in a louder voice. “ YES.” 

He spun around, dropping his bag again.

“YES. I will marry you , John Campbell MacTavish.” you repeated again with a firm and convicted tone. You want this. You know deep down he is the one for you. Sweeping you up into his arm with a loud cheer, you screamed loudly as he started spinning you around. 

“Let me down Johnny!!” you laughed. 

He set you down on the firm ground, but not before peppering you with kisses on your lips and cheek. 

“Thank you.” After calming down, he looks at you with his beautiful baby blue eyes, full of love and happiness, voice wavering with emotion.

Oh wait until Mini hears about this……

“So I heard you proposed unexpectedly.”

“Haud ya sheesh. It was planned.”

“English MacTavish. You didn’t have a ring so it was not planned”

“I said shut up. I want her to choose her own ring.”

“ Whatever you say….”

And the shit stirrer gossiper Ghost was quick at work. Everyone knew about it a day after both of them returned to the barrack. Gaz couldn’t stop poking fun at Soap. Price just look at his three pseudo-sons with amusement. 

Inspiration? This absolutely brilliant art by @beyondgoodandevil146, The OG Captain Soap MacTavish and Delicious Soap

And the song by The Last Goodnight  keeps going around in my brain. So… combine them together? Bam. 

Taglist : @kaplerrr @floral-force @homicidal-slvt

[scheodingers-muppet]

reputation (stranger things version) let’s go

…Ready For It? - jancy. the whole “i’ve known i wanted you since we first met” kinda vibe really fits them i think. “some boys are trying too hard, he don’t try at all though. younger than my ex’s but he acts like such a man” sorry steve. “knew i was a robber first time that he saw me. stealing hearts and running off” nancy is really the only character we see *multiple* people crushing on. steve and jonathan, of course, but also dustin, fred, arguably robin.

End Game - steddie. “you and me, we got big reputations” king steve and the freak, two sides of some big reputations. “i got some big enemies” being hated by the school and town and the literal upside down. “in rumors, i’m knee deep” “i’ve made mistakes…but something was born on the forth of july” steve’s huge character arch we see in season 3, over the summer.

I Did Something Bad - nancy. shes realms the only one i can see for this one. the confidence and bad-ass of it really only fits her

Don’t Blame Me - steve. why? because i said so. i fully believe he loves VERY deeply. why? because. i said so.

Delicate - steddie, from eddie’s pov. “my reputations never been worse so, you must like me for me” literal manhunt for him and steve’s making googoo eyes at him. “dark jeans and your nikes” is so steve coded. “i know that it’s delicate” not only is eddie wanted for murder, but also, steve’s reputation would be very delicate; even been friends with eddie could make him a target

Look What You Made Me Do: el. “the role you made me play of the fool” and being used in vecna’s plan. “i got smarter, i got harder in the nick of time” “i don’t trust nobody and nobody trusts me” her trust has ben broken so many times and shes had to fight tooth and nail for the trust in her now “the old taylor can’t come to the phone right now. why? oh, because she’s dead” paralleled to el coming back at the end of season 2 completely changed

So It Goes… - jancy, from nancy’s pov. “we breakdown a little, but when you get me alone, it’s so simple” “you know i’m not a bad girl but, i’ll do bad things with you”

Gorgeous: ronance, from nancy’s pov. “i got a boyfriend, he’s older than us.” “you’re so cool, it makes me hate you so much.” and “i’m furious at you for making me feel this way” with how nancy didn’t like her at first. “ocean blue eyes, looking in mine” tldr; nancy’s gay awakening is robin

Getaway Car: jancy. “i wanted to leave him. i needed a reason” and “he poisoned the well, i was lying to myself” about steve. “we were flying but we never got far” and “think about the place where you first met me” with the relationship starting to crumble. “we were jet set bonnie and clyde until i switched to the other side” i like to imagine this as her going to robin but that’s just me.

King Of My Heart: steddieeeeee. okay listen. i love when fics make references to king steve and steve likes the name. i adore royal imagery with them. “we rule the kingdom inside my room” “king of my heart, body and soul” i LOVEEE eddie calling him king steve again, but as like, “you’re the king of my heart” “you’re love is a secret im hoping, dreaming to keep”

Dancing With Our Hands Tied: byler. “i loved you in secret…how were you to know?” “deep blue but you painted me golden” when blue meets yellow in the west. “i loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us” i think mike might be starting to realize his feelings for will while he’s gone, loving him even though he’s scared the distance will hurt them. “dancing like it was the first time”

Dress: ronance. why? idk it just fits. nancy and robin get close, become friends and nancy realizes her feelings for her. i can also see elmax if you remove the sexual elements of the song.

This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things: steve to tommy and carol. “it was so nice throwing big parties” “it was so nice being friends again…but you stabbed me in the back while shaking my hand” tommy leaving him for billy. i just need to see steve lose his shit, honestly.

Call It What You Want: steddie. idk what you want from me, its so steve talking about eddie before they’re official. “my castle crumbled over night…they took the crown but it’s alright” losing “king” title. “nobody’s heard from me in months” falling down the social rankings and living a more “quiet” life (ie no parties and such) “my baby’s fly like a jet stream high above the whole scene” both eddie looking down on social hierarchy and also eddie perched on his chair during campaigns, being literally above the whole scene. “all the jokers dressing up as kings” billy taking his role. “you don’t need to save me, but would you run away with me?” steve maybe talking to eddie about how he can “pay him back” for saving his life or something cute like that.

New Year’s Day: stobin. this song has always kinda been platonic to me. but it’s so them. the devotion of always being there, no matter what or why. “please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh i would recognize anywhere” I MEANNNNN

[unadulteratedkr]

Katherine’s OFMD Fic Masterlist

I decided to put this together because I’m avoiding writing the last chapter of my reverse big bang, and I’ve had this on my to-do list since... *mumbles*. Isn’t it amazing how productive you can be about stuff when you’re avoiding doing something else?

Below the cut, you’ll find all of my (Dialects_and_Costumes on Ao3) Gentlebeard OFMD fics with their ratings and their summaries. The fics are sorted from most to least recent! NOTE: Fics with M and E ratings contain sexually explicit content, so while the body of this post is SFW, those links will not be.

Chapter-Length Fics

you wrote me a lovely letter; now it’s my turn (Complete, Rated T)

Ed writes to Stede about their story

do you think I’d give up? (Complete, Rated E)

Ed has a new strand of pearls when Stede finds him again.

Between the Sand and the Stardust (Complete, Rated E) Written for the OFMD Reverse Big Bang, featuring art from @poorlyformed

Stede Bonnet has lived next to the Wall his whole life, and he's never crossed it before. No one has. It's the Wall.

But then a star falls.

On the opposite side of the Wall.

And it's time for Stede to have an adventure.

let it rain, ‘cause you and I remain the same (Complete, Rated E)

Fuckeries run rampant when a man puts out to sea.

Be it magic, an act of one god or of several, or a phenomenon purely created by those who venture forth on the unfathomable waves of the deep, the ocean keeps all those who traverse her narrow currents at her tempestuous mercy. Many a sailor has fallen victim to her deceptive pliancy; many a sailor has ignored the augurs in her violent seafoam.

For Stede Bonnet, the fuckery comes from a single-minded focus to find his way across the endless waters. He doesn't hear the warning cry, doesn't see the jibing boom swinging viciously towards the back of his skull, he just feels a black hole of pain before there’s no pain, just black.

For Edward Teach, it's a bottle to the head.

Stand to Face Me, Beloved (Complete, Rated E) Written for the OFMD Big Bang 2022, featuring art from @poorlyformed

Time has run out for Blackbeard and his crew when the Revenge is taken by the fearsome Captain Anne Bonny and Captain Mary Read. As Edward adjusts to life aboard Captain Read's ship, he learns Stede Bonnet has died. Ed navigates his grief as Anne and Mary continue to flee from the dogged pursuit of the English Navy, and right as the Navy swoops them up, Stede Bonnet sails back into Ed's life. Together, he and Stede build their way back to trusting one another as they plan a daring raid to rescue Mary and Anne.

I'll follow the echoes (Complete, Rated E)

When the Revenge is in need of some extreme maintenance that leaves the ship and its crew stuck in Nassau for a month, Ed finds himself returning to the piano at a small bar in town far away from anyone who knows him.

One-shots

waiting to see us once beautiful and brave (Rated E)-part 1 of “the princess Ed cinematic universe”, featuring art by @poorlyformed

"What did you want to be when you were young, my love?"

"I wanted to be a princess."

i loved my friend (Rated T)

He's gone.

something to hold in your hands (Rated E)

Ed offers to teach Stede something else that all the pirates are doing. No really. They're all doing this.

you know you wanna give 'em one more chance (Rated G)

Ed hasn't forgiven Stede yet, but that doesn't stop Stede from giving Ed pearls.

plunge me deep (Rated E)

After months living and breathing as the Kraken every night, Ed comes back to land.

in the winter wind, be my warm (Rated T)

When the Revenge sails north to escape a bounty on Jim's head, Stede learns to appreciate the snow through Ed's eyes.

And as I go along, I want you with me (Rated E)

Ed gives himself a tattoo to remember Stede by, and Stede likes it. A lot.

sin is sacred again (Rated E)

“Is this—is this new?” Stede reaches up, and touches the tip of a tentacle brushing hair away from his face. Yeah. Since—yeah. It’s new. It aches to hear the clipped way Ed’s voice echoes in his head. It aches even more to know he could have prevented it by finding this new strain of courage a few days sooner than he did. “Since I left.” The tentacles holding him steady in the water don’t tighten or relax in any way, but they begin to tremble. Since you left.

a mile of clean sand (Rated E)

It's an accident when Stede finds Ed again.

[fnaf-stories-and-posts]

Five Nights at Freddy: A Decade of Terror (10 year anniversary story) [Part Two]

Sequel fic to Christmas With A Freddy by ShadowBelle23 (Me) on AO3.

Had to fix the story since Evan is now being called Dave. I know that some people think that Cassidy is the crying child and Afton’s son while Dave is the fifth victim of Afton. No, it’s vice versa because of Princess Quest.

Also I had to run through this story through Grammarly for fixes as well in many sentences I wrote.

Part One HERE.

Word Count: 7,624

Character Count: 43,167

Reading Time: 27 minutes 43 seconds

Speaking Time: 42 minutes 22 seconds

————————————————————

*Timeskip*

Time passed. Spring Bonnie was now under surveillance during the closing hours. When the employees left for the day, except for Vanessa arriving for her shift, Spring Bonnie roamed to hang out with Sun. Eventually, the time came when Isabel let Spring Bonnie hang out with Glamrock Freddy, Bonnie, and Gregory. Isabel did inform them about Spring Bonnie before setting up the playdate.

The yellow rabbit did seem intrigued by the newer models of the animatronics without any hostility towards them. Feeling satisfaction with the familiarity of the characters. Then he was introduced to the others, and he had the same curiosity towards them.

Spring Bonnie found Roxy interesting, she wasn’t a fox just like the previous Foxys before her were, but he seemed to like her for her uniqueness as a wolf.

As for Monty, Spring Bonnie felt the opposite of liking him. Finding him weird and out of place with the franchise he’s used to knowing, but also having semi-passive-aggressive feelings towards the crocodile. Probably because Monty looks intimidating from how strong he appears.

Isabel thought it would be best to not let Spring Bonnie meet Music Man yet or Tangle until he feels more comfortable with the others. As for Moon, Sun decided it would be best if they didn’t meet either since Moon can be hostile to anyone when the lights are turned off.

Then came the true test: Gregory.

Charlie made a modified Fazwatch for Gregory that a certain button on the watch would signal Fetch to come to him, same for Glamrock Freddy with a different button, as well as track him to his location in the Pizzaplex. After a test run with the Fazwatch and a few games of hide and seek, Fetch found him every time.

Why exactly did the watch have this function? For the boy’s protection. For the true test, Glamrock Freddy and Bonnie would let Gregory and Spring Bonnie hang out with each other as they dismissed themselves to go “do something”. Leaving Gregory in the attendance of Spring Bonnie for five minutes before returning to him.

Five minutes was a decent amount of time for Spring Bonnie to do anything to Gregory; bite, strangle, scratch, but no. They would always return to see Gregory unscathed. Then it evolved into experimenting: longer periods of absence with the two of them alone, turning off the lights (thankfully Sun was temporarily put downstairs underground while the upstairs of the main building was dark), restraining him away from seeing Sun (although Spring Bonnie was pissed at that.)

But nothing triggered him to kill Gregory. That rabbit has gone a full two non-surveillance hours alone with the child but has never once tried to harm him.

Then Isabel found his stash of drawings in a sketchbook. There were many pages of a well-done drawing of himself with Sun and the other animatronics. There were smiles and hearts, except Monty was the frowning one. She even saw drawings of herself with Spring Bonnie, the words “thank you” with them hugging.

Isabel cried happy and sad tears. Spring Bonnie was happy being with them. It also made her sad, reminding her of the Funtime/Circus animatronics with the programming to kill and entertain children. Spring Bonnie was never given the latter, all he knew was to kill and create agony as well as terror.

Sun was his light and making friends was his muse for his joy.

Eventually, Isabel decided to report Spring Bonnie’s new behavior to Detective Larson and the manager of the Pizzaplex: Mr. Jameson Carter. Mr. Carter allowed Isabel to monitor progress on Spring Bonnie as long as no one got hurt. Carter even thought about recruiting Spring Bonnie to work the ice cream parlor at Bonnie Bowl or be a custodian cleaning around the Pizzaplex.

Sure enough, Spring Bonnie seems harmless now as he gets along with all animatronics. Except for Monty, somewhat. And Gregory has adapted to trust him. Still, Isabel, Charlie, and Lefty were wary about this. They wanted to give Spring Bonnie a chance but at the same time, Spring Bonnie could be faking being nice. Afraid that one day, Spring Bonnie would flip the switch and go on a gory rampage in the Pizzaplex.

So, the three concluded and decided to talk to the manager about Spring Bonnie in private; Vanny’s old lair, now known as the Fazerblast watch tower. Sure, the manager was surprised that the watch tower existed but the three covered for Vanessa claiming they accidentally found it.

“We have come to a decision,” Charlie spoke first. “If you want Spring Bonnie to work during the day, we’re gonna have him tagged. Depending on how well-advanced his body is technologically made, a simple tracking device can’t be used on him. Like an AirTag or Tile. He’ll know if he’s been chipped.”

“Then what’s your solution?” The manager asks curiously.

“Magic chip,” Charlie answered. “A magic chip that is compatible with technology so he can’t detect it.” They could see the puzzled look on his face.

“Yes, it is confusing. How magic and technology are compatible with each other seems impossible but we have that part handled,” Isabel stepped up.

“What do you want me to do?” The manager then asks.

“Make Spring Bonnie his own Fazband,” Isabel confesses. “Or something that he could wear to keep on his person so we can track his location at all times.”

The manager then pondered. “Well, because of FDA regulations, employees can’t wear accessories around their wrists to avoid contamination.”

Then Lefty thought of a solution; a pin. “Well, if we could get Spring Bonnie to wear clothes, the chip could be hidden in the name tag,” he says.

“Honestly I was thinking about him wearing a uniform anyway to make him look professional. But a name tag should work,” Mr. Carter admits.

*Timeskip again*

It was May now and summer was about to start. Spring Bonnie was doing excellent with his job and has been going through the coordinated areas he’s allowed to go to when his shift starts and ends. Mr. Carter does pay him and Isabel monitors over Spring Bonnie’s bank account while the company will take care of the taxes part.

Night has come and the building closed, Vanessa and Isabel were training the new guy; Stanley.

(Yes, the same Stanley from Room for One More.)

He recently put his two weeks' notice in from his old job. It was a security position but it was always boring and nothing happened. He would just sit at a desk watching a monitor for hours, sometimes he tended to fall asleep. So he decided to work in security where there is better pay and somewhere less boring.

Back to the training part, Vanessa gave him the tidbits before showing him around. When they entered Superstar Daycare, Sun was joyously doing cartwheels and flips as Isabel’s friend Rachel saw them.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you so much!” Sun says happily to Rachel with glee. “I feel so free! No longer having to fear when the lights go out!”

“Does she work here?” Stanley asks curiously about Rachel. “Cause I know that Izzy doesn’t.”

“No she doesn’t,” Isabel confirms and steps closer to her friend. “So, what’s going on?”

“I did a thing,” Rachel says as a smile crept across her face.

“What thing?” Isabel asks curiously.

“Hi, Isabel!” A new voice says. Isabel immediately turns her head to the voice and sees Moon pop up from behind the counter. Then she looks behind her in confusion and sees Sun standing behind her. Then realization came over her as to what Rachel did.

“You separated them?!” Isabel exclaimed as Moon came to them. Vanessa was in awe and Stanley was confused. “Separated as in how? Conjoined?” He asks puzzled.

“Not really,” Sun admits. “Think of it like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde sort of situation. We share the same body but our personalities are different. And the only way we took turns is when the lights were on or off, and whenever the lights went out, Moon would go on an aggressive rampage.”

“Thankfully that part was gone when I separated them,” Rachel continues explaining. “We believe the cause of behavior is from Sun mostly being in charge while Moon just exists in the mind most of the time. Making Moon’s programming agitated from not having his turn. And possibly the Glitchtrap/V.A.N.N.I virus. Either way, Moon is sane now and his programming no longer agitated.”

“Does the manager know about Moon?” Isabel then asks in concern since Sun and Moon belong to the company. They’re not their animatronics to meddle with and didn’t want her friend to get in trouble.

“Of course he does!” Rachel insisted. “I asked Mr. Carter about it months ago. I asked if it would be okay if I borrowed Sun’s animatronic blueprint to separate Moon from Sun. Mr. Carter said yes so I did. I’m also planning on them having facial expressions and functional eyeballs as well as a digestive system so they can consume things.”

Isabel sighed in relief before Rachel added another thing: “andImayhavestolensomeunusedscrappedblueprints.” She says very quickly.

“Rachel!” Isabel exclaims in shock. “You can’t take blueprints just because the manager allowed you to borrow one!”

“I know!” Rachel admits but the tone of her voice reminded Isabel of a teenager begging for something when their parents told them ���no’. “But I couldn’t let these scrapped blueprints be wasted. When I saw them, I wanted to bring life to these characters that the company idealized but vetoed.”

“And it’s illegal to make something that the company owns. It’s both plagiarism and theft,” Isabel adds to remind her.

“We could always mind erase them,” Rachel says simply. Isabel wheezes as she gently face-palms herself. Vanessa and Stanley both had a look of concern on their faces from the idea of having their memories erased.

“No! We can’t “Men in Black” our problems to allow ourselves to do illegal things. I know that I have broken into Warner Bro’s studios to check in on my friend there during the pandemic, yes it’s illegal too but I didn’t take anything while there,” Isabel tells her friend before coming to a resolution. “We’ll discuss this later, Vanessa and I are training the new hire.”

Then Isabel turned to the employees. “Sorry about that Stanley, I didn’t want to scare you on your first day.”

“It’s fine,” Stanley admits reassuring with a shrug. “As long as no one mind wipes me, I’m okay with a little drama since my last job was a snoozer.”

“Anyways, this is Superstar Daycare,” Vanessa continues. “No adults are allowed here during the day except parents picking up and dropping off kids.” Then she noticed Stanley observed the climbing towers.

“What are those?” He asks as he points to the black cords leading to the hidden generators. “Are those cables?”

“Yes,” Vanessa admits. “Each cable leads to a backup generator.”

“Generator!? What for!?” He exclaims in concern. “The lighting in the building functions.”

“It’s for the Daycare lights in case the power went out,” Vanessa explains.

“Right, because of Moon,” Stanley understands. “But still, these cords to the generators and the generators themselves are a violation of safety and health. I’m surprised no one has filed a lawsuit over this.”

“I don’t blame you, the Fazbear corporation could have done better but they prefer to be cheap,” Isabel admits. “Rather than fixing the problem by making Sun and Moon separate entities, they decided to install generators instead.”

(Authors note: like my job for example. I work at a movie theater with faux leather seats. We got them in 2017 when we renovated the theaters. Over time the leather started to break, and instead of replacing the seats that had been torn up, corporate decided to put coverings over the seats instead like putting a case on a smartphone. 😑)

“At least now the company can remove the generators since Sun and Moon are separated,” Vanessa confesses sincerely. “I do hope they decide to remove them since they’re unnecessary now.”

The rest of the tour went well. Stanley was put on ground surveillance for the night while Vanessa monitored through the cameras.

Isabel then went to see Rachel’s project she was doing with the blueprints she “borrowed”. Rachel has already made the animatronics from the blueprints and has summoned them to the basement of the Pizzaplex; Lunar, a child-like form of Moon that reminded her of The Collector from The Owl House.

Earth, a tall female animatronic, towering over all of them including Charlie, that looks like the Earth; has white puffy cloud-like hair with her body being green and blue.

Eclipse, (although in this case for TSAMS fans, it’s Ruin.) A combination of Sun and Moon.

Solar, a more redder and orange version of the Sun.

Blood Moon, a form of Moon but has red hypnotic swirls in his eyes.

And Jack-o’-Moon, or just Jack, a Halloween version of Moon that looks like a scarecrow

The animatronics themselves were offline charging while displayed in these life-size “Barbie doll” display cases with fans keeping their bodies cooled.

“I can see why the company has decided to scrap these designs. They’re either scary, a violation of safety, or can be easily stolen or mistaken as a child,” Isabel admits as she observes each one. “Rachel, I know Tech is your main element as a Portal Master, but you didn’t have to go this far and beyond to illegally make these animatronics that aren’t yours.”

“I know, but I at least want to give them a chance and talk to the company about it,” Rachel confesses as she admires the animatronics.

“And by that, you mean mind controlling the people to agree with you,” Isabel corrects. She isn’t mad at her friend, just concerned about the lengths she’ll take to achieve something.

“Maybe a little, I just wanted to make them,” she continues. “For Blood Moon, Eclipse, or Jack, they can be seasonal characters for Halloween or something.”

“If you do approach the corporate people, for Blood Moon, I recommend you call him Red Moon and change his appearance to fit his name. Like cherry red and bright maroon,” Isabel then suggests.

*Time skip. August 8th, 2024.*

Rachel’s plan worked. The Fazbear company was skeptical when she reached out but when they saw their creations brought to life, they paid her for her work and allowed the creations to stay. They also removed the cables and generators when they saw Moon was separated from Sun.

Currently Lunar and Earth helped Sun and Moon during the working hours with the kids. And at night, they cleaned the Daycare together with Spring Bonnie.

Downstairs, Solar was quite the mechanic keeping things up to code and functioning underground as Eclipse aided him. Blood Moon, AKA, Red and Jack were now overwatchers of Afton and Eleanor. And yes, they were also given the crash course history of the messed up past that is Fazbear’s.

“No sign of any of Afton’s animatronics,” Charlie says as she stands before Goldie, Isabel, and Lefty as they had a meeting in the basement.“I’m going to theorize that Eleanor has been leading Afton’s creations. And since we have captured her, the creations have no orders to be led. So they must be wandering or awaiting orders from her.”

“So we took out the leader,” Lefty says, sounding pleased. “But there’s a possibility here since it’s almost been a year since we caught Eleanor, there’s a possibility that leadership has been changed. They could have found a new Alpha which could be disastrous.”

“I-I-indeed,” Goldie agrees with a nod.

“Don’t worry,” Charlie says reassuringly. “We will find them no matter how long it takes. And we’ll finally put Afton’s legacy to rest.”

“And the world will be free from his animatronics when we’re done,” Isabel adds. “His spread of agony will cease to exist. Until then, we wait until they get sloppy and we strike.”

*Later*

Night had settled in the Pizzaplex and the employees were gone. Isabel and her human friends finished decorating the tables and stage area for a birthday party. Freddy’s Birthday Party of him being ten years old.

(IRL chronological. Not game lore chronological.)

Isabel had changed her outfit and painted her skin, even temporarily dying her hair white. When her friends saw her, they began laughing.

“Isabel,” Jamie laughs. “You look as if a bag of flour exploded on your body.”

“This is so uncomfortable,” Isabel winces in discomfort. “I see why actors and actresses hate having their skin painted for movies.”

For Freddy’s birthday, Isabel and her friends have decided to dress up as the many Freddys from the game. And Isabel chose to be Funtime Freddy since he is her favorite Freddy.

Once her skin dried, she applied pink makeup over the paint to make herself look like the bear as well as wearing a fuzzy headband with bear ears that look like Funtime Freddy’s. Short Cut even made her clothes and shoes that resemble the bear’s body and feet color scheme and she even has a black bow tie around her neck.

She now dreads the idea that she did this to herself. Her skin painted over had the same feeling of letting Elmore’s liquid glue dry on her skin.

Jamie, on the other hand, didn’t paint his skin like Isabel did. He was dressed to look like Freddy, with a brown corduroy suit and black dress shoes. His hair had temporary brown hair dye and headband bear ears. On his face even has a black handprint that Crystal painted stamped on his face.

Rachel was dressed to look like Glamrock Freddy with her face painted to match his. Her blonde hair was temporarily dyed brown the same shade as his with headband bear ears. She even painted her nails the same blue color as her clothes matched the era of the Glamrock’s theme as well as having the Glamrock Freddy appearance.

(I’m pretty sure we get the gist that they’re all wearing black bow ties with headband ears.)

Amelia was dressed like Fredbear/Golden Freddy with her suit outfit the same color. As well as making her clothes look worn out with small holes and some stains and discoloration.

Blaze was pissed though. He was Toy Freddy, originally he wanted to be Phantom Freddy from the third game but Elliott, now being called Ei, called dibs first. Instead of corduroy, Blaze felt as if he became Uma Thurman because his body suit was the same material she wore in Kill Bill but instead, the suit was a lighter brown than the original Freddy. The suit felt like he was chafing everywhere and it was unbearable. (No pun intended.)

“I hate this as much as you do,” Blaze says to Isabel while his tone sounding pained and uncomfortable. “It feels as if I’m wearing a vacuum-sealed bag for a suit.”

“Yeah, that one piece needs to be a two-piece,” Isabel admits before using her chaos magic on it to change it. Blaze sighed in relief as he tilted his head back, it didn’t feel as tight as it was before and the chafing feeling was gone.

“You think that’s bad?” Ei asks, also sounding irritated. He wears a two-piece suit too but he also painted parts of his body to look black and yellowish-green color. And his suit was the same as well. “My skin burns, not from the paint but how itchy I feel being caked in it.” Then he turns to Isabel. “As much as I love your ideas sometimes, the next time a game turns a decade old, can we not body paint ourselves please?”

“Yes,” Isabel says with a nod. “I’m dreading this idea already.”

Bree was Nightmare Freddy. Her dark brown corduroy two-piece suit was heavily worn out and damaged with her nails painted a dark silver to represent Nightmare Freddy’s claws. She even carried a mini Nightmare Freddy plush to represent the Freddles that live in Nightmare Freddy’s body.

Katie was dressed to look like Rockstar Freddy from Pizzeria Simulator. If it wasn’t for Isabel, she almost mistaken Rockstar Freddy for Glamrock Freddy. Honestly, she soon disliked Rockstar Freddy when she learned more about him because he seemed to be a Faztoken hoarder and was quite greedy for tokens.

And finally, Crystal was dressed like Helpi. A version of Freddy that isn’t Freddy but looks like a miniature Funtime Freddy.

“Hey Superstars, you look great!” Glamrock Freddy compliments them as he approaches the group. “Also, I have Freddy in my dressing room and the others are coming to the stage. You ready to make this a birthday he won’t forget?”

“Absolutely,” Rachel confirms sweetly with a nod. “Go get the birthday bear.” Glamrock Freddy nods and takes his leave. The other Glamrocks showed up including the Foxy, Bonnie, Chica, and Goldie. The Toys, the Circus animatronic, and the other variations of Sun and Moon as well as Sun and Moon themselves.

“Guys! You look amazing!” Glamrock Chica says sweetly. “Roxy did a good job with your makeup guys.” Roxy aids them with Isabel, Blaze, Ei, Rachel, and Katie’s makeup and face paint.

“I want to hop into a shower with a scrub daddy and a bottle of Dawn to get rid of this body paint,” Ei says uncomfortably.

“Decisions have been made, regrets have occurred,” Isabel agrees with a nod. “Next time we’re leaving out the body paint.”

“And any skin-tight clothes,” Blaze adds as he tries to stretch out the pants.

“But you still look amazing,” Bree compliments him with a smile.

“You all do look fabulous,” Roxy adds. “And I have truly outdone myself with the makeup.” Yes, anyone who didn’t paint their bodies got makeup done instead.

“Thanks, Roxy,” Katie says with appreciation. “Now we have to wait for Glamrock Freddy.”

*Meanwhile*

The animatronic bear approached his dressing room, one that he now shares with Glamrock Bonnie since Monty took the rabbit’s. When he opened the door, Freddy looked anxious and fidgety. It was ten years of his existence, ten years of games, ten years of being a recognizable figure. It’s as if his birthday was a wedding and he was nervous about “walking down the aisle” of a ten-year milestone.

“Hey superstar, you ready for your party?” Glamrock Freddy asks him politely. Freddy shook his head as he huddled himself into a ball. “It’s okay to be nervous, superstar. Everyone gets nervous when they reach a milestone in their life but it’s normal and okay to feel that way. But if it will help you feel any better-“ then he approached Freddy closer and held his hand out to him. “-we can see your friends together.”

Freddy lifted his hand, looking at Glamrock’s hand, then his face, then his counterpart’s hand. Gently accepting it as he stood up. “You’ll be okay, superstar,” Glamrock Freddy assured him. “Now let’s go meet the others.”

So the two walked to the stage hand in hand. The Pizzaplex was dark with thousands of glow sticks lighting up paths with a lot of battery-operated lanterns. And when they reached the stage, everyone was there.

All of the animatronics huddled around the stage but left enough space for the two Freddys to see the people on the stage. From left to right their perspective was Jamie, Amelia, Blaze, Ei, Bree, Isabel, Katie, Crystal, and Rachel. Representing the Freddys in-game order.

The music then started to play: Freddy by CG5 with Black Gryph0n and MatPat.

“Hello? Hello? Hello?” They heard Scott Cawthon’s voice as the Phone Guy as Jamie came closer to the front of the stage. The TV screen above displays the gameplay of each game in order with their release date above it.

“🎵Hey Freddy, you're the talk of the town. Ready to turn our world upside down. Each time you come around, ah,” Jamie sings as the others harmonize from behind him. Then Blaze came forth as he joined Jamie.

“🎵Hey Freddy, you're the reason why I never wanna ever turn off my light. I just don't want to die-ie,” Blaze sings as the gameplay then shifts to Five Nights at Freddy’s 2 as Ei joins them.

“🎵Hello, hello, well I came to say hello. I want you to enjoy the show. Be aware that they could lose control,” Ei then takes his turn, and for the next verse, he sings in sync with Jamie and Blaze.

“🎵So, get out right away, as the lights go down. Got no theory and I got no doubt. That when they're up, good luck. There's no way out,” the boys sang before joining the others at their spot as the gameplay shifted to the third game.

“🎵No doubt— doubt— doubt. There's no way out,” this part was from the music playing with CG5 and Black singing this part.

“Everyone! Please give a hand to Michael and Vanessa!” Amelia says through her microphone as the two approach the front of the stage from behind the group. The animatronics did applaud in response.

“🎵Hey Freddy, well I gotta say. Turning in the badge was my happiest day. But still, I hope and pray-ay,” Michael sings, then Vanessa has her turn:

“🎵Hey Freddy, if I could do it again. Starting before the Bite of '87. I bet I could save them.” Then Mike and Vanessa stepped aside as gameplay from the fourth game played. Amelia and Bree then took to the front of the stage.

“🎵Hello, hello, well I came to say hello. I want you to enjoy the show. Be aware that they could lose control,” Amelia sang before Bree joined her in sync.

“🎵So, get out right away, as the lights go down. Got no theory and I got no doubt. That when they're up, good luck. There's no way out.”

As the girls returned to their spots, GC5 and Black’s voice was then heard: “🎵Doubt— doubt— doubt. There's no way out!”

Then Dave Steele’s voice was heard: “Three, two, one,” doing the countdown from FNAF 6. Followed by mechanical screeching and CG5’s voice with Black returns:

“🎵No doubt— doubt— doubt.” Followed by Balloon Boy’s laughter for a short period then heard Markiplier speak: “12 a.m., the first night.”

Then CG5 and Black again: “🎵There's no way out!”

Isabel then approached the front now as Sister Location gameplay was showing on the screen.

“🎵I-I-I, I can hear you moving in the ni-i-ight, someone please turn on the li-i-ight, tell me that it's gonna be alright, alright, alright. I-I-I, I can hear you moving in the ni-i-ight, hoping for just another bi-i-ite, tell me that it's gonna be alright, alright, alright,” Isabel had her turn. The gameplay switched to Pizzeria Simulator and Katie joined her as she sang her part with Isabel and Crystal being backup vocals.

“🎵Hey Freddy, you're the talk of the town. Ready to turn our world upside down each time you come around (ah). Hey Freddy, you're the reason why (Hello, hello) I never wanna ever turn off my light (Hello, hello) I just don't want to die! I just don't want to die!”

Then finally, Security Breach shows up on the screen as Rachel joins the girls at the front Jamie is her backup vocals.

“🎵Hello, hello, beware that they could lose control (I just don't want to die). Hello, hello, well I came to say hello (Hello, hello, be aware that they could lose control). I just don't want to die.”

As the music ended and the screen blackened, everyone then cheered:

“Happy Birthday, Freddy!”

Then Glamrock Chica had a cake rolled in on a cart: it was a funfetti cake with sprinkles on a white frosting border top with two number candles that made out the letter ten. After singing Happy Birthday, Freddy blew out the candles and everyone cheered.

As Glamrock Chica and Toy Chica rolled in more cakes. Freddy turns to his friends: Chica, Foxy, Bonnie, and Goldie. They huddled together and group hugged each other. A moment of their celebration of the milestone that they achieved.

Not as a mark of ten years, but as bringing fun, joy, horror, and inspiration to those who have admired them and have played their game since the beginning or later down the line. They were happy to be someone’s favorite out there and were happy that there were people who loved them as equally as they loved them back.

Their franchise will be a legacy that lives on and people’s hearts, hoping that someday, no one will forget the name: Five Nights at Freddy’s.

*Meanwhile. ⚠️WARNING: CONTAINS EXPLICIT LANGUAGE!!!⚠️*

A man leaves a liquor store with a paper sack over a tall bottle. The green glass neck with a faux gold cap surpasses the length of the bag. He holds it in one hand. As for the other, triangle boxes containing pizza nestled in a plastic bag.

“Thanks for the liquor and pizza, Jeff!” The man says appreciatively with a slurred pace to the guy at the register. As if the man had already downed a couple of drinks.

“No problem, Henry!” The guy at the register says back sounding somewhat monotonous and stoner-like.

Henry wore a tattered and burnt yellow and orange long-sleeve shirt with burnt navy blue jeans. And his light brown boots burned and worn out. His once brown hair was now orange and red while his green irises were purple. But what was mostly strange was that his tan skin was red and black with a pair of black and purple rabbit ears resting on top of his head.

Henry walked out of the liquor store and onto the sidewalk of Hell itself.

Yes, Hell.

The sky is an ominous red with a giant pentagram in the sky. How he got into Hell, he guessed was committing suicide to himself when he burned down a Fazbear’s pizzeria that had his ex-best friend locked away including several animatronics.

Henry Emily has spent a long time in Hell and it’s a lot different than what the Bible describes it. Instead of expecting his soul in a field of blazing fire for him to burn for eternity, Hell was a utopian city in every ring, for both Hellborn and Sinners.

He soon learned that sinners only cannot leave the Pride Ring, they are bound there for eternity unless they have a Right Of Passage by a Lord of Sin; Lucifer, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, etc.

Back to the point, he has been surviving in the ring for who knows how long. When he first got there, he immediately started looking for Afton everywhere. He had searched every part of the pentagram for who knows how long until the conclusion came over him. Afton survived the fire because there’s no way that bastard is in heaven. Meaning his plan had failed.

Fuck, he even said in his recorded message that Hell would be waiting for his ex-friend. Instead, Henry was there when he shouldn’t be.

He then wondered if Michael and the children made it to heaven. But if Afton had survived, then the children may not have moved on. Thankfully he wasn’t alone, he found Ralph who had been there longer. Ralph once worked for him but sadly he died one night to the animatronics. Ralph was this rotary phone animatronic human hybrid.

As Henry walked in a certain direction. Henry remembered a lot of things that Ralph revealed about Hell. Like the fact that every January 1st, angels from heaven would come down to kill sinners and hellborns, but mostly sinners. The two stuck together thick and through, working jobs and getting food. But most of the hellborn aren’t kind to sinners, they will steal anything and everything that sinners have unless they are an Overlord. Sadly he and Ralph are not.

So any consumable they bought, they ate. Leaving no room for luxuries or any scraps. Since they’re both stuck there, Henry tells Ralph about what happened before he died. Ralph couldn’t believe it but called Afton a snake. The two then hoped that Charlie would follow Afton until the end of time, never giving him a moment of rest.

Eventually, he met up with Ralph at a street corner. The two walked and talked together about the latest thing in Hell until both sinners and Hellborn started running past them screaming in fear.

The two ignored it as they ate their pizza and took turns sipping from the bottle. At this point, they couldn’t care less until a very tall figure was walking casually in their direction compared to other’s panicked screams.

It was a lanky, tall, spider-like demon figure dressed in black and green. The men kept their composure, from the longest time that they have been there, rarely anything scares them. Then the demon approached them seeing how unfazed they were.

“Thou art some brave men if my appearance doesn’t terrify you,” the demon tells them calmly. “Wherefore do I not intimidate you?”

“Hell grew on us,” Ralph says casually. “We have become numb to the terror here.”

“May I accompany thee? 'Tis not every day I encounter bold sinners such as you twain?” The spider man asks politely. Henry and Ralph looked at each other before shrugging. This guy isn’t looking for a fight so who are they to argue?

“Sure, it’s not every day we come across an overlord wanting to speak to us,” Ralph confessed. “But who are you, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“My name is Zestial; I am among the eldest overlords in Hell and the longest-surviving sinner through Heaven’s yearly exterminations. I have struck bargains with lowly sinners, gaining power and renown o'er time. Many sinners do tremble before me as though I were a devil and not a single soul hath failed to flee from my presence,” Zestial explains and follows the men.

“So, you’re calling us special?” Ralph asks curiously as Henry downed another pizza.

"In sooth, thou art special to me in some wise,” Zestial says in amusement as he continues his polite behavior. “Yet I am curious—whither art thou both bound?"

“We don’t exactly have a place to go to. We just wander until we decide to stop,” Henry confesses and takes a swig of the bottle. “You’re not evil are you?”

"Some may deem my deeds as evil, yet even as an overlord, I am of sound mind and do care for the well-being of those dear to me. Those who stand with me are my friends, those who oppose me are my foes and those who are neither are but innocent,” Zestial explains before stopping in his tracks, the other two men do the same. "I have a dear friend whom I hold close; I am certain I can persuade her to grant you both the comfort of her home, so long as ye heed her counsel. She is a kind woman who aids those who prove themselves worthy. If ye comport yourselves well, I am sure she will assist you in achieving your desires."

“This isn’t a trick, right?” Ralph asks in concern. “No handshaking? No contracts?”

"Nay, none of those things. Merely a word of promise, with no strings attached. This is a rare opportunity I offer, seldom given to those less fortunate."

The men looked at each other again. What other choice did they have? They have been scraping by for so long, never giving anyone an ounce of trust because they don’t want to be unfortunate boot lickers for the rest of their afterlives.

If this guy is offering help with no strings attached, then how could they refuse? “Will she let us go if we are unsatisfied?” Ralph then asks to clarify.

“So long as ye steal not nor deceive her, thou art more than welcome to depart from her abode whenever thou wishest, provided that thou informest her of thy departure,” Zestial insists.

Ralph looks upon Henry. He trusts the man with his life since he was once his boss. Even though they are both dead, Ralph admires and appreciates Henry for everything he did during the time that they were alive.

“Take us to her,” Henry insists kindly.

"Very well, I shall escort you both to her. Your safety now rests under my charge,” Zestial says kindly.

It was a long trek that gave the two plenty of time to finish their meal and alcohol. The three entered a large building and they went up an elevator, entering a large meeting room with three other sinners, Henry believed.

“Carmilla, we have guests,” Zestial says politely to her.

(This information is for those who aren’t aware of the Hazbin Hotel franchise. I apologize.)

Carmilla is a tall demoness with an hourglass build, light grey-magenta skin, and long, thick white hair with black streaks. Her hair is usually kept into a pair of large beehive-like horns by thin, ballerina-like black ribbons.

Her mouth features black lips and noticeable fangs inside, and she has a marking colored in a darker shade of her skin tone resembling a mask that envelopes her eyes, which themselves have white irises, red sclera, and slit-like pupils.

Her arms and hands are colored white from her deltoids down, with her hands being rather large in proportion to her body with black nails. She also has bridged wrists, instead of the alignment of her arms narrowing at the wrists like most people or demons.

Carmilla wears attire similar to a ballerina, which consists of an off-the-shoulder black dress with white buttons and white stripes located down the front and at the rim of the spiked skirt, which includes magenta lining. She also wears black, waist-length stockings covered by white ballerina shoelaces.

Carmilla walks on the tips of her toes in her ballet slippers. She also accessorizes with a set of hooped black earrings, despite appearing to lack ears.

One of the other two people, besides Carmilla, is a female demon with puce skin, curly cream hair tied up in a ponytail, black lips, eyes with red sclera and white irises, and small black horns atop her head. She wears a sleeveless black crop-top turtleneck, gray jean shorts with a black belt, black fingerless gloves, white over-the-knee stockings, and ballet shoes like Carmilla.

And the other is also a female demon of tall and thin stature. She has white skin, light blonde hair tied up in a short ponytail, eyes with red sclera and white irises, and small black horns atop her head. She wears a pair of circular-rimmed glasses with red tinted lenses, a long white buttoned lab coat over a black turtleneck, long black gloves, black tights, and a pair of silver pointé shoes resembling Carmilla’s.

Henry had to assume

(Back to the story.)

Carmilla looks at Henry and Ralph with suspicion or concern. Then back to Zestial who gives her a nod. Henry assumes from Zestial’s earlier statement that this wasn’t the first that they had recruited sinners.

“Please, sit,” Carmilla says calmly, her voice giving off a tone of politeness with an undertone that she’s a busy woman and has limited patience, also she’s one person that no one should meddle with.

Henry, Ralph, and Zestial did sit. Carmilla did the same behind a desk with a daughter at each of her sides. “So, what are your names and what are your strengths to be working here?”

Henry nudged Ralph gently, a sign that he was letting him go first.

“My name is Ralph. I’m skilled with my voice and explaining to people how to do their jobs for training. I’m excellent at taking business phone calls and working night shifts as a night guard,” Ralph then explains before asking. “If don’t mind telling us, ma’am. What exactly do you do in Hell?”

“I’m a weapon arms dealer,” Carmilla explains politely. “I sell my products in Hell, especially with angelic steel.”

Angelic steel?!?! That’s almost as baffling as Remnant in Henry’s case.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Ralph says politely to her, then lets Henry take his turn. Carmilla now looks at him.

“I’m Henry Emily, a professional at engineering and building robotic structures,” Henry says politely. “But I hope you understand that I won’t be making animatronics or killer ones for this company.”

“Just because I’m a weapons dealer doesn’t mean I thrill to kill sinners. All I do is manufacture quality weapons and my consumers decide on what they want to do with it. But why exactly did you think I would ask you to build such things?” Carmilla asks curiously.

“My ex-business partner and friend took advantage of me,” Henry explains, his tone sounding hurt as he looks into his lap in shame. “He took advantage of my craft to fuel his desires while lying to my face.”

“Which is?!” Carmilla asks, her tone sounding slightly impatient.

Henry tried so hard not to cry but how could he not?! Even after so many decades, the wound always felt fresh. “He used my craft to experiment on and kill innocent children,” Henry then explains, his voice trembling as his emotions welled up. “He even killed my daughter, my only daughter.”

He looks up and Carmilla’s expression shows remorse, and compassion, but mostly horror as to what she heard. Even her daughters had the same expression.

“And what’s worse, he’s still alive. I tried to kill him but I only killed myself,” Henry continued as his eyes burned with tears building up, and when he blinked, they streamed down his face. Sure what he said was only a small percentage of a book load of a truth. “I wanted to kill him to end the suffering and agony that he put so many through. But I sadly failed.”

Then he felt Ralph put his hand in Henry’s to comfort him.

“You both are hired,” Carmilla says, her tone softening up to compassion as she continues to act professionally. “But you both must prove yourself here until I trust you with my weapons.”

Then she pulled out a notepad and wrote down on it before tearing the paper from the notepad and handing it to Henry. Giving him an address, a phone number as well as a name: I.M.P.

“This is the business location for a group of assassin imps. They can legally travel to the surface where you two once lived and they kill anyone that sinner hires them to murder. I don’t know the exact pricing of what they offer but mostly I hear that they take anything that people can afford. You can hire them to kill your friend for you,” Carmilla explains to Henry.

“Thank you, but I’d rather go up there to kill the bastard myself,” Henry says gratefully with menace.

“I see,” Carmilla says calmly with understanding. “Then I will have to speak to Lucifer about this. Sinners usually aren’t allowed to leave Hell. Maybe we can help you come to an agreement about you leaving Hell to kill your friend, as well as bring the Imps along for discussion.”

Henry was in awe, she had connections to the king of Hell?!

“Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate your assistance,” Henry says, now sounding grateful and soft instead of with malice.

Then they got down to paperwork with long hours ending of reading. Afterward, they moved into the apartment that Carmilla gave to them. The employees who once lived there died in the recent extermination, and she had the apartment tidied for new hires.

As Ralph took a shower, Henry turned on a record player and found a vinyl record to play. He puts the record down and gently lets the needle rest on it, music starts to play.

While he hums to the song, he puts a cut-up photograph on a corkboard. The photograph originally had him, William Afton, and Ralph, together but William was cut out of the photo and separated from its half.

“I have spent too long down here in this forsaken hell hole,” Henry monologues to himself as he looks at William’s photograph. “And one day we’ll meet again, old friend. But this time, Hell’s coming with me, and you be down there stuck with me for eternity.” Then Henry brandished his knife and stabbed the photo as the song came to an end.

“🎵So run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run.”

————————————————————-

Thank you guys so much for reading this story. I appreciate you guys reblogging, liking, and following me. I apologize for Part One being an info dump and not being important to the plot. I could have saved that info to write another time but sadly it is what it is.

But I’m glad to give Henry more context. It’s just sad we only got to know him in FNAF 6 and he’s never brought up again in any other game. While Springtrap/William Afton has gone through three fucking fires (in my story lore, he’s gone through two) and he’s still not down.

More stories will be coming though. Happy reading! 😄

[blood-mocha-latte]

1, 16, 3, & 11 I’m going crazy at this fic writer ask 🫡🫡

truly aleks our strongest soldier. what would i do without you xx

1 - how old were you when you started writing fic?

around 19 i think? i was going through some SHIT and was like. writing seems healthier than smoking. i'll do that. and then everything just fuckin SPIRALED

16 - what are you favorite characters to write?

i love writing luz with everything i am but also i hate writing luz because i feel like i do him no justice. like. sir. i'm sorry but idk how to do your characterization loyally whilst still giving you depth

3 - what was your first fandom?

btvs my beloved. it had everything. gays and monsters most specifically

11 - what's an idea for a fic you've had that you'll probably never write?

the nice part of this question is that i can answer it many times bc ohohoho. oh man. let's see here. there was a winnix sequel to the speirton bonnie and clyde au to focus on the dillinger of it all but i was like Nah. still you can see the remnants of that idea throughout that fic because for a minute there i was RED HOT

from this <3

[abigettie]

Chapter 5: Three Strikes And Your Out

warnings!swearing, death! grief, kissing? Funeral, small spicy bit, plane crash, hospitals. That’s it please tell me if I’m missing something!

AN: does anybody know how to link stuff so it doesn’t take you to the website and stays on the app? I’ve been having trouble with that I’m just wondering if there’s anything I can do to change it, I’m so sorry this is so short I’ve just been so busy lately and it’s currently 1:45 am no joke that’s the actual time the next chapter will be out next week maybe the week after but I do have a Rhett Abbott fic in my drafts if anyone wants to read that anyway I should probably go to bed, another thing I do take requests!! Just let me know what you want to read it might take me a while to write it but I’ll eventually do it! Oh and I’m totally rushing things between the two of them but it’s fine bc you only have so much time when your a naval aviator!

BxB 4eva

——————————————————————————Bonnie sat on the side of her bed staring at the long sleeved black dress she had chosen months ago for this occasion, the day didn’t feel real to her even though she had been preparing herself for two years but she never thought it would happen so fast she stood up and made her way to the bathroom she through some water in her face to wake up she felt hands on her hips she looked in the mirror to see Bradley “G’mornin honey” he said against her neck as placed a kiss against it making it shiver “I’m going to take a shower okay?” Bonnie nodded as she watched him turn on the water testing the temperature with his fingers she turned back to look in the mirror as Bradley undressed not caring if Bonnie saw, Bonnie pulled back the shower curtain revealing a very shocked Bradley she stepped in and closed the curtain behind her “what are you doing!?” He asked as he brought his hands to his eyes so he wouldn’t seem rude “showering” Bonnie grabbed Bradley’s wrists and brought them to her hips his eyes still squeezed shut “open your eyes Bradley” she said pressing her body against his felling his semi hard cock pressed to her stomach “you don’t know what your getting yourself into”. The pair sat quietly in the bronco Bonnie fiddled with the hem of her dress looking over at Bradley who tapped his fingers on the steering wheel “Brad?”

“Yes honey?”

“After this mission I think I’m going to turn in my wings” Bradley showed down and pulled the truck over “are you sure you want that honey?” He asked grabbing Bonnie’s hand looking into her eyes she nodded silently “I saw what the navy did to my father, I don’t want to be like him, I want to get married and have a family and actually be able to be there for them” she said pressing her lips into a thin line “Bonnie I support your decision, I saw what the navy did to my mother and I don’t want it to do that to you” said Bradley as he pulled back onto the road “how about we get married after this mission then we can have some little Bradshaws running around” Bradley said making Bonnie laugh “Bradley we aren’t ever dating!” She said “we can fix that”

“Bonnie, Isode, Ross I have loved you since we were 14 your the most beautiful, amazing person I’ve ever met, would you make me the happiest man ever and be my girlfriend”

“Let me think, you know Bradley, David, Bradshaw I think I would like that”

“Are you sure we’re not going to quickly?” Bradley asked “we’re in the navy we’re a loud to move quickly”. There was a few cars in the parking lot when they arrived a few meaning Iceman’s Jeep and Mavericks speed bike Bonnie could tell Bradley was uncomfortable “we can stay in the truck until somebody else shows up” she offered looking over at his frown “it’s okay honey” he said talking off his aviators and slipping on his cap “well don’t you look handsome” Bonnie said fixing the collar of his shirt “do you know how many times I’ve done this?”

“A lot”

“A whole fucking lot, this is the same as all the other times so we’re going to go out there stand where we need to stand, shake the hands of the people we need to shake, salute the admiral and try to keep our tears a bay” said Bonnie as she fixed her makeup and looked over at Bradley “you would make an excellent admiral” he said with a stupid smile “what can I say, its in my blood”. Bonnie stood talking to one of her dads old friends Derek? Or was it dan? She couldn’t remember he hadn’t given her his call sign so she had no clue who he was “if it isn’t Bonnie Ross herself” Bonnie turned around “Slider?”

“Hi Bonnie” the words came out of his mouth softly as he hugged her “what are you doing here! I thought you were in Boston?” She asked giving him a hug “ if I missed your dads funeral he would haunt me forever, he actually said that he would he was always a man of his word so I’m not taking any chances” he said laughing Bonnie smiled it was nice to see people she loved no people he loved in one place smiling, laughing, crying, it made her feel warm full even just as he made her feel. Bradley felt out of place, half of the people that would talk to him would always say “you look so much like your father” or “your father was a good man” all he could do was smile and nod he knew his father was a good man his mother told stories about him as if he was her world, he understands why Carol never dated after Nick passed he only sees himself with Bonnie just as his mother had only seen herself with Nick, Bradley makes his way over towards Bonnie who ever she’s talking to has his back towards him as he walks to her “Bradshaw?” He heard someone breathe out Bradley looked at the man who said it as he stood beside Bonnie wrapping his arm around her and letting his hand rest on her hip “slider” Bradley said giving the man a curt nod “Jesus Christ you look like your father” slider said his facial expression looked almost like he was talking to a gost “thank you sir”

“I uh should probably go talk to Iceman and Maverick it’s nice seeing you two” Slider said giving Bonnie a hug and Bradley a firm handshake the pair watched as he walked over to Tom and Pete whispering something to the two making Maverick tense up, the sound of Taps rang through Bonnie’s ears everything was a blur as she watched Iceman and Cyclone fold her fathers flag her eyes full of tears as Iceman handed her the folded flag tears in his eyes as he gave her a salute she watched him closely as he placed her fathers wings on the coffin jumping at the loud thunk it made as he punched it into the hard polished wood the sound of gunfire made her blood run cold making her remember all the times she went hunting in Canada with her dad thinking about the first and only buck she ever shot he was so proud he showed everyone the photo of her and that stupid buck. The funeral ended at 9:30 everyone filed out quickly due to the fact there was still work today Bonnie made her way through the rows of white headstones finding the one she was looking for quickly giving Bradley a small smile as she stood beside him “he’d be proud of you”

“I know, he’d be proud of you too”

“I know”, the change room was silent Phoenix seemed to sense that Bonnie didn’t want to talk about the morning she got changed out of her dress and braided her hair quickly even beating Natasha leaving the room she was the first one in the classroom that day she sat in her normal spot leaving the chair beside her open for Bradley when ever he got there, “first ones up this morning will be swan, Phoenix and Bob get your gear and head out to the tarmac” maverick said as the three made there way out of the room “thank god we didn’t get paired with hangman” bob said making Bonnie smile “who says I can’t be worse then hangman you know swans aren’t as angelic as you think” she joked shoving bobs shoulder before she walked over to her plane. Missing the target pissed Bonnie off she shook her head as she popped up climb up to 8 Gs was fine at first until it wasn’t Bonnie felt herself slipping in and out of consciousness “swan do you copy?” She heard mavericks voice through the coms “I copy, I don’t think I’m going to get any more Gs then this today Mav I felt myself slipping” she said as she maneuvered her plane to meet back up with Phoenix and Bob “blue team that’s a fail,alright let’s get back to the tarmac Rooster Fanboy Payback your next get suited up and be ready when they land- Bird strike” Maverick yelled over the coms “Shit!” Bonnie said as the red light flashed signifying her left engine was on fire “ Left engines on fire and climbing!” She yelled pulling up “throttling back! Shutting of file to left engine, extinguishing fire!”

“Shit! Right engine is out but still spinning I’ll try to restart it”

“Swan it’s on fire don’t-“

“Throttling up!”

Maverick watched as Bonnie’s plane started to go down “extinguishing right engine! Shit Shit Shit!” She yelled and the plane went out of control “punch out punch out swan!” She heard maverick call

“You can’t save it! Eject Eject!”

“Ejecting!” That was the last thing out of her mouth as she pulled the ejection ring the last thing she saw was the canopy not opening correctly a horrifying crunch was heard over the radio “Shit! Swan do you copy! Swan do you copy!”

“We need search and rescue, she hit the canopy but I see a parachute!” Maverick said panicked “everyone back on deck”. Bradley sat in the dark waiting room of the hospital it was empty which didn’t surprise him due to the time he heard footsteps approaching

“She’s stable at least that’s what I overheard” maverick said walking up behind Bradley “that’s good” was all brad said still taken off gard by the whole situation “I’ve never lost a wingman”

“Your lucky,Fly long enough and it will happen there will be others” Pete said as he walked towards the door “easy for you to say, no wife no kids no one to mourn you when you burn in” maverick tensed

“Go home get some sleep” was all he said “why’d you pull our papers at the academy, WHY DID YOU STAND IN OUR WAY!” Bradley shouted

“You weren’t ready”

“Ready for what huh? Ready to fly like you?”

“No, ready to forget the book trust your instincts don’t think just do, you think up there your dead believe me!” Mav snapped

“My dad believed in you, Bonnie believed in you! I’m not going to make the same mistake”.

[blkkizzat]

Happy Thursday 😊

Omggg i love that idea of reader being engaged maybe to Naoya (ik he nasty but him and his bleached hair and tight black shirt does things to me)

STOPPP THE PTSD I GOT FROM PLUG!CHOSO WAS SO DELICIOUSSSS like fr i need to send you a whole ass book report on how that fic made me see colors i didnt know existed because 😵‍💫 its my weakness when the angst only affects the male character and not the reader HDJSKSKA i been suffer too much in my life to want to read about a fictional me suffered so why not ruin a fictional man's life 🤷‍♀️ that fic came to me at a good time because honestly i was spiraling a bit over some fic i shldnt have read where reader was this pushover who got cheated on (and then threw her virginity to the man who cheated on her 💀)and i had to nope outta there so fast bc that personally aint for me, thats why im saying i looove your bimbo reader and like, she aint takin shit- she causing it 😂

Otaku!Gojo wasn't incel coded to me at all btw, in case i said smth that made you think otherwise 😭 he gen seemed like just his goofy ass self i love him so much. Also semi rare opinion but I like the virgin gojo fics because I really do think as much as gojo is such an extroverted little bug, he really does have his walls up on who he lets in emotionally 🥲 I feel like he might even have some internalized "well im not gonna date or fuck around because i dont want to drag anyone into my ugly world" hsjsjks idk i just feel like he might force himself to be lonely because he takes his responsibility seriously. Aughhhh, especially if he's in love with reader? I feel like man would be in the friendzone for years, be the best man at her wedding, and live and die loving herrrr 😭 im delulu but its just so loverboy gojo to me hehe. Also omg I have so many requests I wanna make before they close but honestly I'm secondhand exhausted from reading all the fics you already got going on LMAO

p.s your about the editor- ummmm excuse me???? YOU'RE SO GODDAMN PRETTY!!!! Like you gen have doe eyes and flawless skin I'm so jelly. Also i love the gloves w the dress 😍. You didn't ask but visually i would ship you with toji 😤 yall would have that bonnie and clyde hitman x bad bitch aesthetic going on !!

🍒 nonnie

🍒 nonny!!!! hi babes you doing good today???

LOL i totally feel you though, i wanna hate naoya so bad and then i be finding myself hate reading naoya x reader fics with a hand in my panties he's such a lil worm tho 😭

LMFAO listen i have that nicki quote in my m.list for a reason. tryna give these men trauma fr 😩. i want them absolutely SICK over us LOL! i totally get that, i hate when its a really well written fic too cause im like damn i wanna read more but i dont wanna be in my bed depressed tomorrow dkhsfliahsd.

but i feel like authors always come out a bit in our work, im definitely bimbo/brat reader. i do not take shit from these dudes irl so im not about to write reader getting cheated on or played unless reader is about to go scorched earth gone girl on their asses lmfao. like entire lives ruined lol.

also omg, yes, yes, yes. i totally agree about gojo. i actually think hes very emotionally stunted in canon, as its suggested by him, geto and sukuna in later chapters that being the strongest comes with isolation so growing up with so much expectations i feel as gojo sees himself as disconnected from others. in AUs i feel like this can manifest in him becoming more isolated. i almost feel like he's an extroverted introvert. that he probably feels more used to being isolated but still feels that need for connection. so yes friendzone for years. omg (not you making me feel bad for this man now lmfao).

You can make more if you want! like idk when im gonna get to everything cause im at the mercy of my adhd but honestly with all the fics i do have and these requests i think im pretty solid until the end of the year lmfaooo.

ALSO OMFGFGFGFGF you gonna make me cry whaaaat. tysm!! i went to a charity auction for my mba program. i work from home and im legit in a bonnet and an anime shirt 80% of the time so when i have the chance to glam up i really like to do that! ALSO WHAT!? GET OUT OF MY BRAIIIIN LOL!! So i thought of this one selfship, that i was going to make into toji x reader that was pretty much bonnie and clyde kinda relationship. but i didnt really know where the fic was going besides us causing general chaos and being super downbad for each other haha.

but omfg tsym for the long beautiful ask you're so sweet omfgbsjdbasdkj id die for you 🍒 anon you da best pookies!

[megs-mostly-past-random-fandoms]

Nursing the Blinders

Based on this request: How about a Peaky Blinders fic with a chubby!reader who is basically the boys nurse and she meets the Golds one day and she and Aberama hit it off, much to Tommy’s annoyance, please?

Here you are! *Familiar Characters are NEVER mine!*

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Warnings: A little insecurity. Some fluff??-ish

Pairings/Characters: Aberama Gold x chubby!fem reader

Small Heath wasn't exactly where you envisioned living, but that's where you ended up. You didn't love it. You didn't hate it. At least at first. Really, you sort of traveled anywhere your employers told you to. The Peaky Blinders were more than just your employers though. They were your friends and family. Not to mention, they paid you well for your silence whenever they came to you after a brawl or some other such thing.

         Without even meaning to, you'd become something of a nurse for those young men and you'd be lying if you said you didn't love it. The excitement, the danger, the feeling of belonging. The only time you didn't enjoy it was when Finn or Isaiah, the two youngest boys, got hurt. Other than that, you didn't mind patching the boys up every now and again. It was only when they brought in the Golds that things started to change.

         Bonnie was a good kid. Stubborn as hell with a bit of a temper, but otherwise a good kid. And he made the Blinders a good bit of money. He wasn't the cause of the change. It was his father. Aberama. You knew the man's reputation and honestly, you were petrified that you were going to do or say something wrong with him around and the Shelby boys would not be able to protect you. You wouldn't have been at all surprised.

         It started with him demanding to know who you were to the Shelbys. He seemed placated enough when Tommy explained. But then, you could feel his eyes on you whenever you were in the room. He didn't even try to hide it. Every time you looked at him, his eyes were already on yours, like a cat waiting to pounce. It always sent a shiver of both fear and excitement through you.

         There was no denying the man was attractive. A little violent for your taste, if rumors were to be believed, but attractive nevertheless. He was also a doting father to his boy. It could sometimes be a problem when he hovered over your shoulder when you attended Bonnie's wounds, but he never said a word. Nor did you expect him to. A guy like Aberama Gold wouldn't go for a gal like you. Not to your thinking, anyway.

         You weren't exactly a lady. At least not one like Ada or Polly. You spent all your time near the fighting ring instead of other feminine pursuits. You were a little thicker in the…well, everywhere, than they were. Not that you minded most of the time, but many of the men and women you met seemed to. You thought, surely, if Aberama Gold were to fall for a woman involved with the Shelby's, it'd be one of them.

         You were proven wrong one evening when you were once again nursing Bonnie's bloody lip. "You really let him get you, huh?" you asked with a smile. Bonnie laughed before wincing. "Don't laugh, you'll split your lip again." Bonnie shrugged a bit. "I'll be fine." He was quiet for a moment before he spoke up again, "I can see why my father likes you." Your head snapped up to meet his gaze. "I beg your pardon?" Bonnie simply smirked and shook his head.

         You and Bonnie talked about other things for a couple minutes more before you felt a familiar presence behind you. "Good evening, Mr. Gold," you greeted, standing up. You flashed him a quick a smile before moving to leave the two alone. At least, you thought you were leaving them alone. You didn't pay attention to the sound of footsteps following you.

         "Join me for a drink?" You jumped at the sound of his voice behind you. Turning to face Aberama, you looked at him with wide eyes. "Sorry, what?" Aberama chuckled quietly and repeated his request. You bit your lip, contemplating how much of a bad idea it was, but you found yourself nodding anyway. It turned out to be a good thing.

*time skip*

         After that one night, you and Aberama hit it off. He was every bit the man the rumors said he was and so much more. Yes he was violent and sometimes frightening, but underneath all that, beat the heart of romantic. You found yourself falling and falling hard. Still, there was no indication he felt the same so you had to be content with being friends. That didn't stop your mind from fantasizing, even if it did bother Thomas Shelby to no end.

         "I don't understand it," he said, "Three weeks ago, you were too frightened of the man to go near him. What the hell happened?" You simply laughed a bit and shrugged. "What can I say? I like a bit of danger." Tommy rolled his eyes and shook his head. It was obvious that it bothered him how quickly you and Aberama had gotten close. He probably thought it would affect the business.

         "Good evening, Thomas. Y/N," Aberama greeted as he came into the gymnasium. Tommy's eyes swung over to him, giving him that oh-so-famous unimpressed look. You snorted out a laugh and turned your gaze to Aberama. "Interrupting, am I?" You shook your head and assured him it was fine.

         Tommy shot you a look that said you were nowhere near done with the conversation before sauntering over to join his brothers. You laughed and shook your head fondly. Honestly, it felt as if you were part of this dangerous and crazy family. You turned back to Aberama. "Is Bonnie ready?" Aberama smirked and nodded. "Course. My boy is always ready to get in the ring. Stay tonight?" You shifted a little on your feet. You never stayed to watch the real fights. Practice ones, sure, but the real ones got to you. Especially since you’d grow so close to the Golds.

         "For Bonnie? For me?" You glanced up into those eyes you'd come to adore and couldn't say no. "Just this once," you said, causing Aberama to laugh a bit. You practically glued yourself to his side during the fight. When Bonnie was hit across the cheek, you winced. Aberama didn't seem to think twice about wrapping his arm around you and pulling you even closer to him.

         You felt heat hit your face and you wished he would stop. He was going to give people the wrong idea. As soon as the fight was over(with Bonnie victorious, of course), you pushed away from Aberama. You hoped to get away for a bit of privacy as you felt tears welling up in your eyes. You knew he didn't know. He was just an affectionate guy to those he called friends and family. But every little touch just reminded you that he wasn't a romantic option for you.

         You didn't make it far before you heard Aberama calling out to you. Bonnie needed looking over. "I'll be right there," you called out, willing the tears to stay down. After a moment, you cleaned yourself up, straightened your spine, and headed over to Bonnie. You gave Aberama a small smile as you passed. You focused on your work, missing the way Aberama's eyes followed your every move.

Aberama's POV

         His gaze locked onto every curve of your body like a predator sizing up prey. There were three thoughts that crossed his mind in that moment. The first was absolutely inappropriate for the setting you were in. The second was how much faster his heart beat when you looked at him. And third was how was he ever going to tell you that you had completely consumed his every waking thought. How would he ever convince you that he was falling head-over-heels in love with you?

(a/n: I hope you like it! I never thought about writing Aberama before so I hope I did well and get more practice in the future.)

[scapegrace74-blog]

Ginger Snap, Chapter 5

A/N  Know what this fic needs?  More Geillis.  No really, I think you guys are going to like where I’m going with this.   Just bear with me.   Only one more chapter to go after this one, plus an epilogue.   Thanks for coming on the journey with me!  With due credit to Sia, this chapter’s title is Fire, Meet Gasoline.

Previous chapters are best enjoyed on my AO3 page, because I have a bad habit of going back and editing them after they’ve been posted.

Geillis Duncan drove much the way she approached life, which was to say without much regard for rules and at white-knuckle speed.  I gripped her Range Rover’s leather cushion and swallowed any exclamations of dismay as we ricocheted through Edinburgh’s late afternoon traffic.  When we finally slid into an underground parking spot and emerged into the bustling festivity of the Princes Street Christmas Market, I felt the tension of imminent disaster abandon my shoulders.

“Where to first, then?” Geillis asked, looking far too animated by the prospect of accompanying someone while they did their Christmas shopping.

Geillis and I had kept in touch and met for coffee a few times over the past months.  When I explained that I wouldn’t be taking any more cooking classes at Ginger Snap because Jamie was giving me at-home lessons, her reaction was a moonbeam grin.

“Look at ye, wee vixen!  I ne’er wouldha thought ye had it in ya, Claire.  Tho I canna say as I blame ye.”

No matter how much I protested that I was together with Frank and that my relationship with Jamie was purely professional, she refused to believe me.  The ongoing absence of a ring from my left hand didn’t help.

“Now,” Geillis exclaimed once we’d taken in the sights and sounds of the market, “let’s have a keek at yer list.  Where should we start?”

I pulled out my phone and opened the Notes app.  As she read, my friend’s nose wrinkled in confusion.

“Trouser socks, shoe stays, Moleskine notebook, Rive Gauche...  who are ye shopping for, yer grandparents?”

“No,” I protested.  “The first three are for Frank.  The perfume is for me.”

When I explained that Frank had made a list of the items he would like to give me for Christmas, Geillis grew incensed.

“Ye mean he has ye doin’ his gift buying fer him?  Tha’s the least romantic thing I’ve e’er heard.  Do ye even like Rive Gauche, Claire?  And dinna lie tae me, fer I can read yer feelings all o’er yer face.”

Truthfully, I didn’t much care for the flowery scent.  My personal taste ran more towards woodsy or herbaceous aromas.  But it was Frank’s favourite, and it pleased me to please him.  Or it had.  I was beginning to wonder when it would be my turn to please myself.

“Right,” Geillis interrupted my thoughts.  “Marks and Sparks will do jes fine for yer wee granny list.   And then you and I are going shopping fer yer real gift.”

Geillis was a force to be reckoned with in a retail environment.  She navigated like a guided missile from one department to the next.   Twenty minutes later, we were back on the pavement, which glistened with the colourful reflections of decorations strung above.

“Your car is the other way,” I explained as Geillis turned left.

“Aye, tis, but our destination is right o’er here.  House of Fraser.  See?  Tis practically calling yer name, Claire.”

Inside the venerable old building was an astonishing multi-tiered arcade reaching over five stories to a massive skylit ceiling.  The central space was dominated by a fifteen metre-high Christmas tree (a Fraser fir, of course) and every archway of every arcade was dripping with lights.  The impression was like stepping into a Fabergé egg.

Geillis dragged me, slack-jawed, towards the ladies’ wear section.  Circling the racks like a hawk on the wind, she eyed my body, sizing me up quite literally, then thrust several pieces into my hands.

“Geillis,” I hissed, wary of the sales staff hovering nearby, no doubt smelling an excessive commission in the offing.  “I don’t need a new outfit.  And I certainly don’t need,” I shook the garments in question, “something like this.  Wherever would I wear it?”

“Well, fer starters, ye’d wear it tae dinner t’night.  I dinna wish tae offend ye, Claire, but I canna in good conscience allow ye tae set foot in the Timberyard dressed fer a job interview as a primary school teacher.”

With that she shoved me in the direction of the changing rooms.  Deciding to humour her, I was unbuttoning my top when two lacy bits of nothing came flying over the door.

“Start wi’ these.  And dinna think I willna notice if ye’re no’ wearing them!”

I stripped down to my panties, bemusedly wondering how she knew my exact bra size. 

Upon seeing me exit the dressing room in her choice of clothing, Geillis let out a squeal of delight.   She insisted I rip out the tags and leave the store wearing my new outfit, declaring it was her Christmas gift to me.  

I felt tremendously self-conscious as we walked towards the restaurant.  The aubergine velvet jeans clung to my legs in an unfamiliar way and the black turtleneck, while technically not revealing, hinted at kink with its many heavy zippers and fastenings.  Together with my unruly hair, unstraightened for once, I felt like another woman entirely.  I didn’t recognize her, but I felt like she might be someone I’d like to get to know.

The Timberyard was a modern restaurant in a rugged old warehouse, not far from the farmer’s market I’d visited with Jamie.  We were joined there by several of Geillis’ friends, and we ate, drank and laughed until my sides were sore. 

As I wobbled to the loo, I noticed the bartender following me with an appreciative gaze.  It had been a long time since a man had looked at me that way, and it gave me a guilty thrill.

We left the restaurant just before midnight. I pulled Geillis into an impulsive hug.

“Wha’ was that for, hen?” she asked.

“Nothing.  Everything.  Just, thank you for being you, Geil.”

“Och, tis my pleasure, lass.  I only want tae see ye happy.  Now, what do ye say to a digestif?”

After only a slight protest on my part, the two of us piled into an Uber.  Our destination was another restaurant, this time in a converted whisky warehouse by the harbour in Leith.  It was well past last sitting, but when I mentioned this to Geillis she explained away my concern. 

“I ken the owner, who’s also the chef.  Tis a popular spot fer locals in the restaurant scene tae meet after they close up fer a few drinks afore heading home tae their beds.”

Inside, the walls were rough stone, supported in places by industrial metal beams.  The kitchen was open to the main dining area, and I grinned as I thought of Frank’s strong opinion on the matter.  Near the back of the room, lit by dim naked bulbs and the glow from several open fireplaces, was a huge square table surrounded by nearly twenty chairs upholstered in bright yellow plaid.  Around the table was gathered a motley assortment of men and women, all talking and laughing and sipping on a variety of drinks.  And in their midst, his copper hair shining in the firelight, sat Jamie.

A shout went up from the table as Geillis approached.  I hung back, tugging at the hem of my new turtleneck as though I could stretch it to cover my arse.  Besides Jamie, I recognized Jenny, Angus and Murtagh, but I only had eyes for the big ginger chef.  He sat at one corner, probably in deference to his long legs which were stretched out before him, wrapped in black denim.  A black leather jacket hung over the chair behind him.  He looked dangerous.  It was a very good look for him.

Dragging me by the elbow, Geillis nudged and bumped Angus to one side despite his vulgar protests, then practically pushed me down into the chair directly next to the chef.  With a smug smile of satisfaction, she then retired to the opposite side of the table.

I looked anywhere but directly at Jamie, but I could feel his butane eyes on me.  I was certain he would scorch right through my outer layers and down to where Geillis’ choice in lingerie burned against my tender skin.  The noise from the rest of the table faded away.

“Ye look bonnie t’night, Arsonist.”  His voice was low and gruff and it sent a quickening through my veins.

“Thank you, Jamie. It was Geillis’ Christmas gift to me, and I feel, well... let’s just say it isn’t my usual look.”

“It suits ye, I think.”  He reached out and lightly touched the silver tab of a zipper that ended near my wrist, setting it swinging.  I swallowed and looked frantically around.  Several open bottles of liquor stood nearby. Grabbing the nearest one, I poured myself a generous serving and knocked it back, all in one go.  I tried to steady my breathing.

“Look, Jamie...”

Just then a blond man in chef’s whites called to Jamie from across the table.  An exchange involving a lot of Scottish cursing and an off-colour reference to someone’s lobster pot ensued.  I tried to convince myself I needed to leave.  It was late, I was half-drunk, and whatever I intended to say to Jamie should definitely wait for another moment.  Maybe never.

A hand on my thigh broke my preoccupation.

“Sorry, Arsonist, ye were sayin’ something?”

I wet my lips, frantically trying to recall anything but the feeling of Jamie’s strong fingers, stroking me through the velvet of my jeans.

“I...”

At that moment, the woman on Jamie’s far side broke into song.  The rest of the table cheered and clapped along, and it was impossible to hear anything except the concussive pounding of my heart against my eardrums.

Jamie grabbed my clammy hand.

“Come wi’ me,” he instructed, grabbing our outerwear and pulling me towards the door.  Geillis watched our departure with all the excitement of a child on Christmas morning.

Outside the air was dense and cold, a briny slap after the stuffy warmth of the restaurant.  Jamie obviously had a destination in mind, and we walked hand-in-hand along the cobbled streets for several minutes before finally emerging at the port.  A jetty struck out into the inky sea, and it was there that we ended up.  Besides a few gulls and the winking of a nearby lighthouse, we were all alone.  The sodium street lights caught Jamie’s curls and made them burn.

“Forgive me, Arsonist.  I couldna hear myself think in there.  Tho, come tae think of it, tis no’ much better now.”  Rather than release me, as he spoke Jamie stroked my hand, running calloused fingers over each vein and every knuckle.  I don’t think he even realized he was doing it, but it stole every thought from my head.

“No ring,” he remarked, stroking the finger in question.

“No,” I whispered in response.  

And then it burst out of me, like a tidal wave of feeling that I never saw coming.  I told him everything.  My childhood roaming the globe with my uncle, pre-occupied and rootless, dreaming of stability.  Meeting Frank at Harvard, and realizing that he represented all the things that my life to date had lacked: structure, security, a solid foundation, a home.  And how it took moving to Scotland and coming into contact with a group of near-strangers to make me realize that the price I had paid for that stability was higher than I’d ever imagined.  I’d given up my dream of becoming a doctor. I’d become so lost in Frank’s vision of who I should be that I’d almost lost sight of who I actually was.

By the time the flood of words left me, I was in Jamie’s arms, crying into his leather jacket.  He hushed me with quiet murmurs and languorous stroking of my hair, as one would a child who has woken from a nightmare.

I stepped out of his embrace and rubbed my sleeve across my face.  I must have looked an absolute mess, but he still watched me with those earnest, patient eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I began, “I don’t know what...”

“Claire,” he interrupted.  I’d never before realized just how many consonants were in my given name.  “Ye dinna need tae apologize tae me.  But ye may want tae consider an apology tae yerself.”  At my raised eyebrow, he continued.

“I’m no’ the kind of man tae tell another what they should and shouldna do.  But ye strike me as someone who’s made decisions fer the right reasons, yet ended up in the wrong place.”  Here he paused, as though carefully weighing his words.  “There’s no sin in changin’ yer mind, Arsonist.  Tis very well tae be hungry, so long as ye ken what ye hunger for.”

“And what do you hunger for, James Fraser?”  The provocative words had left my lips before I had the chance to censor them.  His answer came in the form of a blistering look that left no doubt as to its meaning.  Then he gathered himself, banking the fire I’d unconsciously ignited.

“Many things.  Regular, ordinary things, mostly.  My family’s health and happiness.  A faster bike.  My own restaurant.”

“Like Tom’s there?” I asked, gesturing towards the harbour.

“Och, Tom is a braw chef, and worthy o’ every accolade tha’s been showered upon him.  But the hospitality scene in Edinburgh is cut-throat, an’ suitable locations cost a fortune.  Nah, Jenny and I want tae buy back our childhood home in the Highlands.  Tis called Lallybroch, and when our Da passed, our Mam sold it tae her brother.  We’d turn it inta a country inn, wi’ Jenny running the lodging side o’ things and I the dining.  Tha’s the dream anyway,” he ended with a shrug.

I rested my hand on his forearm.  “That sounds like a wonderful plan, Jamie.”

Before he could reply, an enormous yawn burst from my lungs.

“Time tae get ye home tae yer bed, Arsonist,” Jamie grinned.   “Come, I’ll give ye a ride.”

“Wait, haven’t you been drinking?” I inquired as we walked back down the jetty.

“Three years sober,” he explained with no hint of embarrassment.  “I went somewhere pretty dark after my Mam died, an’ it took a near-fatal crash tae scare me straight.”  His eyes squinted in a poor approximation of a wink as he added, “Besides, there are better ways tae chase a rush than in the bottom of a bottle.”

“Such as?” I asked brazenly.

Which was how I found myself on the back on a black motorcycle, my arms twined around Jamie’s waist.  Rather than take me directly home, he steered us north, following the coast.  It was very late, with hardly another vehicle about.  We merged onto the motorway, and Jamie picked up speed.  My thighs tightened around his lean hips, the vibration of the motor beneath us shivering up my spine.  As we emerged beneath the hastate lights of the Queensferry Bridge, I stretched my arms wide, icy air ripping against the sleeves of my jacket.  I laughed, although no-one could hear me.  I yelled, and only the wind yelled back.  I was flying.

***

It was nearly dawn when Jamie pulled up in front of my flat.  My legs thrummed, my eyes were dry with fatigue, and my heart ached, but I felt better than I could ever remember.  I handed Jamie back his spare helmet and shook out my curls.  He watched me in that half-sleepy, half-vigilant way of his that I now recognized as desire.

“I don’t know what I could ever say to thank you, Jamie.”

“Ye needn’t say anything at all, Arsonist.  Nae matter what ye decide, it has been my very great honour tae get tae know you.”

Without another word, he kick-started the engine and drove off into the early morning mist.

“Goodbye,” I whispered to his vanishing shadow.

***

The lamp above the couch was lit, and Frank lay still beneath its glow.  I realized he had fallen asleep waiting for me to come home.  Instead of regret, what I felt in that moment was pity.

The sound of my jacket being unzipped woke him.  He blinked in confusion and then in shock.

“I’m very sorry if you were worried,” I began.

“Worried?  Do you have any idea what time it is?  My God, Claire, I don’t know what to make of you these days.  You’ve never behaved irresponsibly before, and now you’re out at all hours and you’re wearing,” he gestured wildly with his hand at my new outfit which I had, quite honestly, forgotten I was wearing.  “And your hair, Claire!” he finished, as though the manic state of my curls was definitive evidence of my fall from grace.  Despite my exhaustion, I stood tall.

“Frank, we need to talk.”

[misslilli]

Felix Felicis

MSR. AU. PG-13. | tagging @today-in-fic | read on AO3

Chapter 21 - The Halloween Fair

[ DS ]

On the afternoon of the Halloween fair, I take out the costume that Miss Hannigan picked out for me from the closet. Ever since I’ve got it, I’m beyond excited to wear it. It’s a black low-cut shirt, a white, checkered suit with a blazer that ties at the waist and a flaring skirt. As I put on the blonde wig and the black beret, I turn to the mirror channeling my best inner Faye Dunaway and say to myself in a breathy, southern lilt: “My, my, don’t you just look dandy, Miss Bonnie Parker!”

My friends have been roped into manning the booths of the fair and somehow, I’ve slipped under the town people’s radars, which leaves me able to roam around the fair, albeit alone. Since I’ve known most people in this town ever since I was little, I’m never actually alone at these happenings, people tend to just pull me into their conversation as I walk by. But as luck will have it, as I’m rounding one of the booths of the fair, I find myself face to face with the one person I had secretly hoped to see.

He’s wearing a brown tweed suit with a matching waistcoat and over the white collared shirt he’s tied an emerald green tie. Perched on his head is a white fedora. ‘Shit. He’s Clyde. What the fuck?’

We stop in our tracks and stare at each other for a moment, taking in our respective costumes. He’s the first one to regain his ability to speak.

“Hey Bonnie, the laws are outside, they’re blockin’ the driveway!” His Warren Beatty impression is perfect right down to the Texan drawl. ‘God help me…’

“Gosh, I hope you’ve parked the getaway car around the corner, Clyde!” I’m putting on my best Faye Dunaway impression again as I add a wink to my statement and just continue to walk past him. My heart thumping hard against my chest betrays my cool exterior, but that’s my secret and my secret alone.

----------

[ FM ]

When we finally get to the Halloween fair that Felix has roped me into, dressed up in a costume I didn’t even pick myself. We trail the grounds together and we’re drawn to the candy apple booth. Well actually, Felix draws us to this exact booth, the little sneak, but I can’t resist his pout and pleading eyes, so we end up getting an apple each. Munching away happily, his mouth full, he asks the question I’ve been too scared to ask myself: “Hey dad, do you think Miss Scully is here too with her friends?” I hope she is, if only to see what kind of costume she has picked out for herself, but I can’t tell Felix that. Instead, I just shrug and we continue our stroll across the town square.

When we round another booth, we both stop in our tracks as we see a blonde woman appear before us , dressed in a checkered suit and a beret on her head. ‘Bonnie. She’s the freakin’ Bonnie to your Clyde. Your sidekick. No, your partner in crime. The woman you love. In the movie of course. Insert awkward cough.’.

Felix is oblivious of course, he hasn’t seen the movies and I doubt he even knows what my costume is, let alone Miss Scully’s. I scrape together the last braincells that are left in my head and a stupid movie quote is the only thing I can think of at this moment.

“Hey Bonnie, the laws are outside, they’re blockin’ the driveway!” The retort she gives me combined with her wink render me speechless until she’s well past me and Felix, mingling with the small crowd that welcomes her into their midst just a few feet away from us.

Felix does the thing I wish I could bring myself to do, staring at her retreating form in wonder and he also speaks the words that have sprung to my own mind.

“Wow!”

----------

[ DS ]

Countless conversations later and a little tipsy on the delicious apple cider they always serve at the Halloween fair, I wander along the booths when I hear a voice I haven’t heard in over a year. And could’ve gone forever not hearing again. It’s my ex-whatever Steve, talking to one of his friends.

I’m hidden pretty well in the crowd of people due to my shortness but I can still catch flashes of their conversation. When I hear my name, I stop, straining my ears.

“Dana? Oh God, no. She’s not even close to being a serious contender for a relationship.” I wince at his statement as well as the tone of his voice. “She’s just always there, you know? Like a well trained Golden Retriever, I say the word and she comes running. Such an easy lay!” When they share a laugh I can feel the flush of shame and anger crawl up my neck.

The situation he describes is exactly what I’ve spent countless hours in therapy getting over. But what he says next really drives a stake through my heart. “It’s so pathetic, but if it’s what I have to do to get laid, whatever. She’s even dirtier in bed than any hot teacher fantasy you could ever imagine and what they say about good Catholic girls is very, very accurate, if you know what I mean!”

If he weren’t the demon I have to face every time I try to get over my past, I would’ve revealed myself and give his ass a good kicking for talking about me the way he has. But not knowing how I’ll react to being face-to-face with him, I stay hidden behind a group of mummies and zombies like a fucking coward.

I’m so furious with him and myself for not being able to stand up to him. Where the hell are my friends when I need them? I haven’t seen them all evening and I could really use their company to talk some sense into me. Since they’re nowhere to be found, I head towards the bar set up in the back and slide onto a stool, ordering a shot of Tequila. ‘Fuck it! That low-life is not even worth your time of day!’

On the surface, I’m so angry I want to set this whole damn place on fire, but deep down, the past hurt resurfaces to join the hurt from his words I just heard.

By the time I’ve downed my second shot, I’ve repeated the mantra that I’m a strong woman who’s better off without men in my head about a thousand times. I see someone slide onto the stool next to me out of the corner of my eye as I order another shot of Tequila to keep the two empty glasses in front of me company.

“A third shot of Tequila is just asking for trouble, if you ask me.” I turn my head slowly towards my bar-mate to tell him exactly where to shove his smart-ass remark when I’m faced with my supposed partner in crime, the charming one with the disarmingly innocent smile on his stupid face. I’m staring him down defiantly, my eyes never leaving his while the bartender places my glass in front of me and I grab it, downing it in a swift motion, daring him in my mind to say anything else. He doesn’t comment, good for him, and orders a shot for himself, just raising his glass silently and I clink it with my empty one – I’m tipsy, not insane, chasing one shot with another.

We’re staring straight ahead during our conversation, turning our glasses over and over between our fingers.

“Which guy seems to be the problem and how many rounds of ammo do I need to take him out?,” he asks after minutes of silence. I want to lean into him for just assuming that it’s a man that has me sitting here seething, but unfortunately, he’s right. This one time.

“How many rounds you got?” He scoffs at that.

“Plenty. And I know of exactly eleven ways to get rid of a body without raising suspicion.”

“And here I was thinking the FBI frowned upon their employees giving out top-level secrets on how to hide away evidence of a crime committed.”

“I’m not going to tell you, I wouldn’t want you to be held in contempt of Congress when questioned.”

“How do you know I wouldn’t rat you out when questioned by Congress?”

“Just a hunch… Talk to me, Red. What happened tonight?” He turns towards me and I can feel his gaze dancing over the skin of my face.

“You really want to know? Well, turns out the asshole of an ex of mine decided that today might be the perfect time to make an encore appearance in my life and reminded me again why I should’ve kicked him to the curb a long time ago instead of hoping I could change him.” Looking down at the bar, I trace my finger through the condensation drops, my anger slowly dissipating and my voice growing more and more quiet. “I heard him say some pretty awful things about me tonight.”

I relax into his hand when he places it comfortingly on my back, right between my shoulder blades, and huff out a sigh. “I’m sorry.,” is the only thing he says, but doesn’t add anything else, giving me the choice if I wanted to elaborate or not.

“What I witnessed today was the way he’s always been but I just couldn’t see through the masquerade of the sweet guy, he was so kind and said all the right things and he quite literally wooed the pants off me from the get-go.”

“Love bombing.” ‘Oh yeah, I forgot, you’re a profiler. You probably already got one worked out for me, trust-issues, anxious attachment style, possibly daddy issues, in short, a hot mess. Avoid at all costs.’

“Pretty much, yeah. And I was stupid enough to believe it.” I raise my hand to call over the bartender for another round.

“You’re not stupid. It’s hard to tell the difference between genuine interest and love bombing in the beginning.” ‘Yeah, no shit Sherlock. It’s exactly why I’m sitting here torn between wanting you to make a pass at me and being absolutely terrified that you actually will.’

“How about we pass on the shots and get some water instead before calling it a night?”

“I think that’s probably a good idea, Mr. Mulder!”

“You know, after tonight, what do you say we just drop the Mister?” I nods slowly, pursing my lips.

“So just Fox?” He makes a pained face.

“No, please don’t. Just Mulder is fine.”

“Mh-hm. I guess since we’re dropping the titles, that that makes me Scully? Little odd, but alright!”

We get the check and argue back and forth about who gets to pay, him putting an end to it with a firm “Will you give it a rest, you’ll get to pick up the next check!”.

In my attempt to slide off the barstool gracefully despite three tequila shots, my heel catches onto the rail at the bottom and I stumble over the stool, knocking it over in the process. I have only his quick reflexes to thank that I don’t follow suit, his arms catching me around my waist and pulling me upright again.

He has the audacity to laugh, the bastard, and I’m beyond mortified. “Easy there, partner! Do you need a ride home? Felix is at a pajama party at his friend Suzie’s house, so I’m free to be your pumpkin carriage for tonight.” ‘NO! Yes? No. Get your hands off me. Don’t let go just yet.’

I’m so confused at the tug of war in my fuzzy head but I hate getting a cab alone and I’m in heels on top of being tipsy, I don’t want to walk home alone at night.

As we walk out, his hand finds his way to the small of my back guiding me through the crowds while making sure I don’t stumble again.

On the drive to the beach house, I manage not to fall asleep despite how tired I feel, too afraid of snoring or, God forbid, drooling onto myself. His hands find my back again guiding me up the stairs to the front door and I turn to face him at the top, even more nervous.

“Thanks for the ride, Mulder. And for listening.”

“Anytime, Scully. Good night!”

When he leans in, I start to panic that this is it and I think it shows on my face, because he only kisses my cheek, just like I did after the birthday party before getting back in the car and heading home. I can’t decide if I’m relieved or disappointed.

I can’t ignore the flutter of excitement every time his hands land anywhere on my body but what I will absolutely deny, even to myself, is the way my heart constricts in my chest when he gazes at me that way and the sense of comfort that settles over me when we’re together.

Bodily reactions I can deal with, it’s when it comes to emotions is where it gets scary.

I just don’t think my heart can survive another Steve.

[silverstarsheep]

Oh man, it’s a fic for the “Coffee Shop AU,” which is lead by @doodledrawsthings​.

I started this really early on and wrestled with it a lot, so things changed and shifted a bit since I started writing it. Looking at the new stuff vs. old, I’m surprised what details I got accurate, and not at all surprised at what I got wrong. Quite a lot of it is super super SUPER inaccurate, sorry.

This is more or less my take on Luka’s transformation, so... Take it for what you will, haha.

I also finished it a while back, but never had the guts to actually post it for one reason or another--I may as well post it anyway, since it’s gotten this far.

Word count: 6,749

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

Luka nearly flew out of the restaurant and into the cooler-than-normal evening air, stumbling down a few of the steps leading to the door. The sound of rain could be heard all around him--it hadn’t let up since he arrived. Standing underneath the awning with his umbrella cradled in the crook of his right arm, he stuffed both hands into his pockets, puffing out a frustrated sigh. His face was burning hot, and his chest was tight with indignation.

He should have known that a call to “make amends” from Vanessa was going to be a big, fat lie. Luka’s brow creased, and he stared at the damp pavement beneath the bottom step, silently wondering why he had ever thought that such would have been the case. During the legal battles of divorce and custody, that vile woman more than demonstrated her ice-cold and vitriolic feelings towards him.

Maybe, deep down, he still felt something for her... And he did truly want to make amends. Too bad the same wasn’t true for Vanessa.

Popping his umbrella open, he finally trotted down the rest of the stairs and to the sidewalk. It was about time that he went home, but along the way he needed to pick up little Harriet from her friend’s house. Hopefully she wouldn’t mind walking in the rain, but somehow he doubted she would.

As he turned the corner, he couldn’t help but shiver. Frown creasing his features further, he thought to himself, “Wasn’t it supposed to be in the 70′s tonight?” If only he had worn a thicker sweater... If it got any colder, he would have been able to see his breath!

To make matters worse, in the corner of his eye Luka could make out little white dots bouncing around on the ground. Pace slowing a bit, it wasn’t long before he was hearing heavier objects hitting his umbrella. Hail?! For pity’s sake, can’t he catch a break for just a second? Holding the umbrella tight, he started to run down the sidewalk, having to skid to a halt when he realized that he had nearly overshot his friend’s house.

Bounding up the porch, he knocked on the door, drumming his fingers against the umbrella’s handle. The door opened, however instead of being met with her caregiver, he was instead met with the very small, curly-haired Bonnie. She stared up at him with her big, purple eyes for a moment, then gave him a toothy grin.

“Hi!” she chirped. She looked over her shoulder, “Ms. Tina! Mr. Luka is here!”

“Tell him to come in, please!” he could hear a woman’s voice call from inside. Tina must have been making dinner.

The smell of steamed vegetables hit his senses in just the right way, causing his stomach to growl a little. However as he took in a deep breath, Luka’s throat felt rather sore. Not wanting to assume the worst, he simply brushed it off as him having raised his voice a bit too much when he spoke with Vanessa. The conversation did get quite heated, after all--but with Vanessa, one could say that she was always chilling.

Bonnie motioned for him to come inside as she skipped into the living room herself. The home was comfortably warm, a welcome change from the cold, wet outside. She flopped back onto the floor right next to Harriet, who was lying on her stomach and holding a purple crayon in a crab-like vice grip. She looked up and smiled.

“Oh, hi, dad!” she kicked her legs up into the air and drew both arms to her chest, “Did it go okay with mom...?”

“Hey, kiddo.” Luka replied with a sigh. He didn’t reply at first, trying to think over his response. Standing in the door frame he shook his folded umbrella off over the porch, then placed it inside beside the door. He could feel Harriet’s eyes piercing into him.

“Sorry to say, it didn’t go so well,” he finally stated, his shoulders slumping significantly. His daughter was young, but he knew she was smart. There was no sense hiding it, but the look of disappointment on her face made him feel regret tweak at his heart.

Bonnie spoke up, “She didn’t use any of her,” the girl wiggled her fingers in a “mysterious” fashion, “Eeevil magic on you, did she?”

Blinking, Luka couldn’t help but smirk, “Oh, no... She didn’t!” he grinned, “But if she did,” he grabbed his umbrella and brandished it like a sword, droplets of water scattering about, “I would’ve fought her off!”

When the two girls giggled at his display, Luka relaxed a bit. For Harriet, laughter was a powerful tool in these harsh times. First and foremost, making her happy and keeping her healthy was his biggest goal.

Just as he set the umbrella back down, Bonnie’s caregiver, Tina, stepped into the living room. She gave Luka a warm smile, “Hey! It sure sounds like it’s coming down out there, did you manage to stay dry?”

“I’m mostly dry, but it started hailing on the way here!”

Tina blinked, her dark brown eyes wide, “Hail?” she asked in a doubtful tone, “This time of year?” she made way towards the still open door and peered through it. Her eyebrows rose in surprise, “Wow! Isn’t that something...” she squared her shoulders and placed her hands on her hips, “Well, I can’t let you walk home in that...”

“It surprised me, too,” Luka huffed, rubbing the back of his neck, “Would it be too much to wait it out here?”

“Not a problem at all!” she flashed Luka a bright smile, “I can add some more to the dinner if you’d like to stay! Once Honey gets here, we can have a nice, big meal!”

Closing the door, Luka shot a glance to his daughter, “What do you think?” he asked, having to clear his throat, “Wanna eat dinner here?” his throat was starting to feel worse. Was he suddenly coming down with a cold, or something?

The girl threw both arms into the air, nearly tossing her crayon in the process, “Yeah!! Ms. Tina’s food is the best!”

Tina laughed in a merry way, then started for the kitchen once more. She muttered quietly to herself as she thought about how many more vegetables to steam, how many patties to fry... However she stopped in her tracks when Luka gently flagged her down.

“Need any help?” he asked. There was a sudden weight on his shoulders, as if someone had put a thick blanket over him. Despite this, he didn’t want to impose on such a good friend, especially after she had so kindly watched his daughter!

The woman smiled brightly and gave a wave of her hand, “Oh no! It’s a real simple meal tonight, but it’ll be delicious all the same,” she motioned to the couch, “Why don’t you watch the girls? That’d be a mighty help.”

“S-sure,” he replied, clearing his throat again, “But can I,” he cleared his throat again, this time ending with a small coughing fit, “Mmh, can I get a glass of water?”

Concern creasing her brow, Tina replied, “Well sure... Are you alright?”

With slow and careful movements, Luka took a seat, “Hm... All of the sudden, I’m not...” he rubbed at his face, it was burning hot, “I’m not feeling so great...”

“Dad, your face is all red!” Harriet remarked in shock.

“Goodness, she’s right!” Tina leaned over him, gently placing her hands on his arm and back, “Maybe you should go home and rest up!”

Brow creasing, Luka rubbed his forehead with the base of his palm. He took a moment to answer, but eventually nodded. Going home would be best... If he was getting sick, he didn’t want to risk making anyone else ill.

“Okay, Bonnie,” Tina said with a clap of her hands, “Get your shoes on.” when Bonnie rushed to her room to grab a pair of socks, Tina turned back to Luka, “Don’t you worry, I’ll drive you over. It’s not far, but I don’t think you’re in any condition to walk there, especially in hail.”

Luka merely nodded in agreement, however he looked to Harriet, “Hey, kiddo... You wanna spend the night here...?”

She shook her head briskly, her ponytail slapping the side of her face, “No! I need to make sure you’re okay, dad!” she said firmly. She went to the door to grab her shoes. Well, looks like that was settled...

Once Bonnie and Harriet had gotten their shoes on, the four of them piled into Tina’s mini van, and were off.

Trying to keep himself awake, Luka attempted to make small talk, “So... How’s it been fostering Bonnie?” he asked.

Tina smiled, “It’s been going wonderfully, but...” she sighed as they reached a stop sign, “We’re nearing the end of the 13 month care...”

Luka gripped his seat belt with both hands, “Have you and Honey... Considered adopting her?” he asked in a hopeful tone

Smile faltering, Tina seemed to hesitate before easing on the brakes, “Yes, but... Getting the paperwork cleared has been a struggle. Honey and I haven’t had any luck...”

“Ah, sorry... Maybe I can help you clear things up a bit?” Luka offered. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open.

“I’d appreciate that, and I’m sure Bonnie would, too!” Tina chimed with a toothy grin, “You need to put all that law studying to good use, huh?”

With the vehicle thoroughly pelted with hail, and a couple blocks later, they pulled into Luka’s drive. The father-daughter pair said their goodbyes and quickly retreated inside, however the hail was finally starting to subside. Now that they were home, it was time to get Harriet some supper.

Frankly, he wasn’t feeling very hungry himself, but one way or another he had to make sure that his daughter ate. He shambled into the kitchen and pried open the fridge--the seal was oddly tighter than usual--where he produced a frozen kid’s meal. Harriet stood in the door frame, watching him with worry in her eyes. She wrung her little hands nervously.

“Dad, I can make it myself!” she urged. She knew how to use the microwave...! It was just a little hard to know how many zeros to put on it when cooking something, and she often forgot to stir it halfway through... But she didn’t mind eating it a little cold! Honest!

Luka pulled a knife from the drawer and started poking holes into the film. He glanced over his shoulder with a weak smile, “Don’t worry about it, kiddo.” he said with a low voice. Using his head, he motioned for her to go to the bathroom, “Why don’t you kick off your shoes and wash your hands?”

Hesitating, Harriet bit her lower lip. She didn’t want to leave her dad alone... But if she was quick about it, then it wouldn’t be a problem! Maybe she could even grab her stool from the bathroom so she could reach the microwave buttons, and kitchen sink. Then she could make her dad a meal, too! The girl rushed deeper into the house without another word.

In the bathroom, Harriet made quick work of washing her hands, knocking over the soap bottle in the process of dispensing some of the foam onto her hands. She’d pick it up later! As she rushed to rinse her hands, she noticed her dear owl plush, Professor Popcorn, sitting by the sink. She had to rinse off his dear little beak this morning, and she must have left him there when she heard she was going to visit Bonnie.

Wringing her hands dry on a towel, she picked him up carefully, “Professor!” she cried, “Dad’s feeling sick, what do we do?”

She tried to imitate the voice her father would use when speaking for the owl by making her voice sound deeper, “Hm, I say that a hot bowl of soup will fix him right up!” she waved the plush around gently to make it look like he was talking.

“You’re right, Professor Popcorn!” Harriet confirmed with a nod, “Dad loves chicken soup, and we got a can of it! I can heat it up in the microwave!”

“I’ll help you read the instructions!” she had the professor conclude, manipulating his wing to adjust his glasses.

Meanwhile, Luka’s time was starting to get harder. His vision was getting hazy, his head was spinning, and his entire body felt sore. Dark splotches obscured his vision, and it almost looked as though his own arms were starting to turn dark.

Rubbing at his forehead with his knuckles, there was a loud clatter as the knife tumbled out of his hands and fell to the floor. Thankfully it didn’t land anywhere near his foot, however it was curious; he had a tight grip on that between his finger and thumb.

Pain snaked its way through his body as he leaned over to pick it up, causing him to grit his teeth and close his eyes tightly. He froze in place, one hand pressed against the counter top as one reached for the ground. Sweat began to pour from his brow in droves, drip, drip dripping onto his arm and the floor. At that point he had dared to open his eyes, and his stomach did a back-flip when he saw the state of his hand.

It... Wasn’t his hand anymore, or at least, it didn’t look like his hand. It had been replaced with a paw-like two-fingered hand that was a deep shade of purple. Said purple was slithering up his arm with snake-like tendrils. Losing his grip on the counter, Luka only managed to gasp as he fell roughly onto his knees. He looked to his right hand, which was much the same--thumbless and purple. No wonder he had dropped the knife! The purple substance had reached well past his elbow there.

The lights above flickered as fear struck his heart. With clumsy movements he tried to manipulate his new “hands” to try and scrape and push the purple stuff off of him, but all that succeeded in was sending droplets of purple onto the tiled floor. His arms remained unchanged, and the color only seemed to pick up the pace as it soon reached his shoulder and crept up his neck.

Bowling over as pain overtook him, Luka wrapped both arms around his stomach and pressed his forehead against the now-damp floor. His jaw was locked open, his eyes were as wide as saucers, and his vision was filled with a golden light as tears streamed from them.

Fabric ripped and shredded as his form shifted and grew. The lights buzzed as they flickered wildly. A mane sprouted from his neck, ripping and tearing his shirt further. It didn’t take long for his entire body to be shrouded in the purple tone. Finally, when his legs began to twist together, Luka let out a scream.

The kitchen lights burst. The house was shrouded in darkness.

When the lights began to flicker, Harriet clutched Professor Popcorn close to her chest, gasping in fear. She hated it when the power went out! She closed her eyes as the lights buzzed.

“D-dad?!” she cried. That was when she heard his scream, and her heart fluttered. She yelped when the lights went out, and without thinking about it she jumped from her stool and rushed into the hallway. However her pace slowed, her hand gently guiding her along the hall when she heard an inhuman panting from in the kitchen.

It sounded like there was some kind of monster in there... But monsters weren’t real, right? Dad always told her that she had nothing to be afraid of under her bed or in her closet... So the only thing that should be in the kitchen was her dad....

Right?

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Her heart was pounding in her ears, and every fiber in her body was telling her to run away, to hide under her bed until the power came on, or her dad coaxed her out... But despite her wanting to scream at her legs to stop, they carried her all the way to the kitchen door.

The house was dark, but there was just enough light for Harriet to see. In the kitchen, however, it was as if something had absorbed all of the light. It was pitch black, and she couldn’t make anything out--even the window had turned black.

Harriet fought back her tears. She was so frightened that she could barely speak, but she just had to make sure her father was ok. She finally managed to speak up again with a squeak, “Dad...?”

Something in the darkness moved. She could hear it shuffling about. Slithering around like a giant snake. Her grip around her plush tightened, and her heart nearly sprung into her mouth. A set of bright, golden eyes appeared in the darkness, illuminating a bit of the kitchen with yellow light. She could just make out the shape of the eye’s owner--big and purple, with a scruffy-looking mane. It had a long, long body, and two arms that propped it up.

Around it were scraps of clothes and little puddles of a dark liquid. In the dim light she couldn’t tell what color those were, but her imagination quickly filled in the blanks--blood.

It was blood. It was her father’s blood. Whatever monster this was had ripped her dad to ribbons and ate him, leaving nothing but his shredded clothing behind.

Harriet’s mouth dropped open, but nothing escaped her throat but air. Tears were streaming from her eyes. The monster opened its own mouth, revealing its wicked, sharp fangs. More golden light spilled out into the kitchen from the beast’s maw. Its breathing was raspy. It shuffled about and moved its mouth as if trying to speak.

“Ha... Harri....” it croaked. It almost sounded like her father. Chills washed through the girl’s tiny body, and her hairs stood on end, “Ha.. rriet...” oh peck, it knew her name!

It reached out to her with inhuman fingers. Frozen in place, Harriet hadn’t a single clue what to do. Her legs continued to refuse to listen to her--now that she wanted to move, they were suddenly cemented to the carpet. She whimpered pathetically.

Hot fingers brushed against her cheek, the tips of claws gently caressing her face. Harriet inhaled. Then she shrieked. As loud as she could she screamed bloody murder, and the monster shrank back in shock. Her legs finally listened to her, and she bolted for the door, which she flung open and didn’t think to close behind her.

“W... Wai... Wait!!” the monster called. But it fell on deaf ears.

Not only did Luka’s body ache, but his heart did, too. He never wanted to frighten his daughter, he never wanted to make her feel unsafe or in danger. But now, it almost seemed as though he had no choice. Whatever form he had taken on mortified the poor child, and now she was running into the late evening streets, completely unprotected.

He had to go after her. He had to make sure she was safe, and he had to let her know that her dad was still here, despite not looking the same anymore. He attempted to push himself upright, however he quickly realized that he no longer had legs. When they had twisted together in such a painful manner, they had fused together to make one long tail. There was no way he could chase after her like this!

He’d just have to drag himself, then. With his arms he began to haul himself past the tile, over the carpet, and through the door. As he lowered himself off of the porch, he realized that his body was remarkably light. He had no issue dragging himself across the ground, and now that he was on the stairs, he felt as though he were...

Floating?! He could float? There wasn’t any time to question it... He’d just have to take it as a blessing in disguise and hope that he could use it to his advantage. He pushed himself off of the ground, and much to his surprise, he remained in the air. Twisting his body this way and that like a snake, he quickly found that this mode of transportation was much faster than crawling around like a newborn. As he got the hang of it, he could pick up the pace.

Man, he hoped no one would see him like this...

Rounding the corner, Luka looked this way and that until he caught a glimpse of Harriet, who was bolting down the sidewalk towards the park. He gasped, “Harriet!” his voice boomed. It echoed and carried throughout the subdivision, causing a few dogs to start barking in shock. Even Harriet was surprised, and she tripped over her own feet and smacked into the pavement.

Luka clapped a hand over his mouth. Goodness, did his voice carry! He was sure to be seen now. Before he could catch up to her, his daughter had picked herself up and was running with new strength across the road to the park. Her beloved owl doll lay limp on the cracked pavement.

“W-wait, please, wait!” Luka called, pathetically trying to moderate his voice, “Hatty, please!” he hoped that the fond nickname would cause her to pause, but she kept on running. If he could have seen her face, he would have noted that her eyes were screwed shut. Thank goodness no cars were coming...

Making haste to pick up the doll, Luka was hot on Harriet’s tail. He could hear a few people poking out of their houses nearby, which only made him speed up. He quickly hopped over the brick wall and started his search for Harriet, looking in, around and under anything that she could have been inside of.

Finally, he found her huddled in the corner of one wall, concealed by a bush coated in flowers. She was shaking like a leaf and trying her hardest to hold back terrified sobs. Coiling himself inside the bush, he hoped that it would be enough to hide himself as he tried to console his daughter.

“Harriet?” he cooed. His voice was still too loud, even as he tried to whisper. It didn’t sound right, “Harriet, it’s me--it’s...”

She pushed herself further into the corner, turning her head towards the wall. She sobbed quietly, and Luka’s lower lip trembled.

“Sweetheart, please--please don’t be...”

This time Harriet sobbed louder, hiccuping into her knees. Luka shrank back a little looking at his empty hand. Could he really console her like this? When he looked and sounded like a monster? He then looked to the plush he held in his right hand. Professor Popcorn... Maybe this could help.

Holding the owl out, Luka tried to hide his face behind the plush as he put on the special voice he always used for the dear old professor, “H-hey there, kiddo! It’s me, Professor Popcorn!” the owl waved his little wing, and Harriet lifted her head. Luka dared to crack a weak smile, “I know things are really scary right now... But I just want ya to know that everything’s gonna be O-KAY!”

Harriet turned, staring intently at the doll. The way he moved, the way he spoke... It was exactly like how her dad would talk when they played together. Sure, his voice sounded a little... Scary, but the tone, the inflections... They were all the same.

“And that I love you...” Luka’s voice started to seep into Professor Popcorn’s, “Very, very much...”

Harriet dared to look up. Through the branches and leaves she could make out the monster’s face, his eyes glowing faintly. As he took on a gentle expression and leaned forward, she could almost see her father’s face in its features...

“... Y-you... Dropped him while you were running...” Luka continued, “I know how much you hate it when his beak gets dirty.”

Tears were spilling from her eyes again, and she shuffled about anxiously. Was it? Could it be?! Her eyes darted up and down his body, doubts still sprouting in her mind. But all the same, she wanted to believe it. She wanted it to be true, because it was an awful lot better than her dad being gone.

“Da... aad??” she hiccuped. Luka smiled weakly and nodded. With a loud sob she jumped into his arms, pressing her face into his scruffy-looking purple mane, which was surprisingly soft. She buried her nose into it, drinking in his smell. He looked different, he sounded different, but now she knew, this was her dad.

Wrapping his hands around her tiny frame, he gently rubbed the back of her head, whispering into her ear, “Shhh... It’s okay, it’s okay...” he took in a shaky breath, “I’m still here, dad’s still here...”

Harriet continued to sob. She must have been so frightened. Guilt stung at his chest, knowing that he was the cause of her terror... However he nearly jumped when she started to spurt out apologies. He backed away, his brow creased.

“What are you apologizing for?”

Wiping her eyes on her sleeve, Harriet hiccuped again and sniffled, “I... I thought you were a m-monster,” she replied, “An... And you ate my dad... I ha-hated you for a little bit...”

Carefully cradling her shoulders in his hands, Luka shook his head, “No no, you have nothing to be sorry for, Hatty. I... I’d be scared, too.” with one finger he wiped away a tear, “But you know, you’re very brave,” he added, “You looked me in the face now, and realized I wasn’t a monster.”

A little smile appeared on Harriet’s lips as she continued to sniffle, “E-even if you look like a monster,” she whispered, “I... I still love you, dad.”

Scooping up into his arms, Luka gave his daughter a tight squeeze. There was some relief that washed over him, knowing that his daughter still loved him despite all of this, however worry had started to snake its way into his mind. How was he going to care for her when he looked like this? He hadn’t even seen his own reflection yet, but considering how Harriet reacted, he wouldn’t be able to even face his best of friends...

Suddenly, there was a jab at his lower end, as if someone had prodded him with a stick. Crap, he had been seen! Tensing up, the length of his body coiled tighter as he held Harriet closer to his chest, protecting her from sight and harm with his torso. He must not have concealed himself enough. Curse this snake-like body!

“A-alright!” a man’s voice demanded, “Come out, y-you... Beast!”

Luka’s body went cold. What was he to do now?! Fear had pooled in Harriet’s eyes once again, and she clung to his mane as tightly as she could. He could feel her little body trembling.

“Come out or I’ll shoot!”

He realized he didn’t have a choice. He popped out from the bush, scattering leaves and flower petals everywhere. A group of ten or eleven adults had gathered, a few of them with children who were cowering behind their legs and clinging to their pant legs. The group gasped audibly, backing away as they erupted into distress.

“Oh gosh, it’s got a kid!” one shrieked. This caused a few screams within the group, and Harriet to try and hide.

“SOMEBODY CALL THE POLICE!”

“No, get animal control!”

“Roger, just SHOOT the thing, already!!”

The man in front, who was holding a hunter’s gun, was quite literally shaking in his boots. He aimed his weapon, but his moment of hesitation gave Luka enough time to react. He wanted a distraction, a diversion of some kind, and when he screwed his eyes shut he somehow willed it to be. The area was suddenly plunged into darkness as if the sun had been blotted out. Both his daughter and the group screamed, but it was more than enough of a distraction as he leaped over the brick wall and flew off in search of a proper hiding spot.

The two emerged from the darkness as if it were a bubble. Blinking rapidly, Harriet peered over her father’s shoulder, finding it curious that the darkness was in such a concentrated area.

“D-did you do that?” she squeaked.

Glancing over his shoulder, Luka was equally surprised at what he had done. Frankly, he didn’t want to even think about it, “I-I guess so...” he replied. He dreaded the idea that powers came with this monstrous form, but as he lifted them above the treetops in hopes that they’d look like a bird or lost kite, he realized that his say didn’t matter.

Harriet continued to grip his mane for security, her eyes drifting to the land below, “Uh... We’re getting kinda high...”

“Sorry, I don’t want them to catch us,” he glanced at his daughter, “Is it too high?” he tightened his arms around her.

“N-no... I kinda like it.” she admitted. She fell silent for a few moments more, watching the city go by beneath them. She eventually asked, “Where are we going?”

Luka bit his lower lip, “Not sure... Somewhere to hide until the neighborhood calms down.”

“Um... Why not that old movie theater they closed down?” she suggested, “That should be big enough.”

“That sounds good.” Luka whispered in reply. It’d have to do for now, seeing he could sneak in through one of the doors. Or at the very least, they alleyway would suffice as a hiding place.

Locating the old movie theater, Luka had to squeeeeeze his way into the alleyway, between the brick walls. Was it just him, or had he gotten larger? He felt so big and obvious already! There was no way he’d be able to fit inside the theater like this, so he just hoped no one would be coming into the alleyway, especially this late.

He lowered Harriet to the ground, “We’ll stay here for a while...” he whispered.

“Dad, we’ve gotta get some help!” Harriet cried, however she tried keeping her voice down, “We need to find someone who can turn you back to normal!”

Luka’s tail twisted itself into knots, and his expression turned dour, “I don’t know anyone that can fix this,” he sighed, looking at his hands, “And going out now, with everyone in a tizzy about a monster... That’d be asking for trouble.”

“What about Ms. Tina and Honey?” Harriet persisted, “They might be able to help! They’ve got a real big basement you can hide in!” she threw her arms in the air to demonstrate.

“Harriet...” he placed a paw on the top of her head, “... No, I’m sorry. I need to lay low for a while. At least let things calm down. It’s hard telling if anyone would believe me.”

“Bonnie would...” she pouted in reply.

Heaving a sigh Luka paused to think, placing his free hand to where his chin would have normally been. If he was going to be laying low for a time, he couldn’t keep Harriet with him, now could he?

If anyone found out that he was a monster, there would be no chance of him being able to keep Harriet’s custody. After such a long and difficult battle, that made his stomach churn. The idea of Harriet falling into foster care, or even worse, falling into the custody of Vanessa, made his stomach do back flips. What was the best option here? His expression grew grim, a frown etching itself deeper and deeper into his dark features.

“You okay, dad?”

“Hey,” he spoke up, “Why don’t I drop you off at Tina’s house? She and Honey can take care of you for a while.” he paused, “Until I can get this all sorted.”

“What?!” the girl exclaimed, her eyes widening, “No! No way!” she pushed her father’s paw off her head and pressed her hands against his chest, “I’m staying with you!”

“Harriet--”

“I don’t want to leave you!” her fingers wrapped around his fur, “And, and--you’d be lonely without me!” tears welled in her big blue eyes again, “You need someone to scout for you, to see if there are people around! What if something happened, and I never saw you again?!” the tears spilled over her cheeks and down her chin.

“Hey, hey...” Luka cooed, placing his all-too-massive paws on her shoulders, “Okay... Okay, you can stay with me...” he hoped that he wouldn’t regret that decision.

Smiling, Harriet wiped her tears away, “Mean it?”

“Yeah.” Luka nodded, “I mean it.”

Lying on the ground, Luka allowed Harriet to climb into his crossed arms. They remained silent for a time as he waited for enough time to pass. He wondered if anyone would be checking out their house. He certainly hoped not, but he could imagine that most of his neighbors would recognize Harriet as the “hat kid from down the street” without much problem. He sighed.

Harriet’s stomach growled, “Dad,” she gently tugged at a tuft of fur, “I’m hungry.”

Lifting his head, Luka frowned. Shoot, he didn’t finish making her that frozen meal, did he? And he didn’t have his wallet, either, “Ah, sorry kiddo... You’ll have to wait a couple more minutes before we can try to go home.”

“Hm...” her little face scrunched up in thought, “Oh, I know! There’s a restaurant nearby, I think! I can dig out some food from the trash!” before her father could object, she jumped out of his arms and ran off.

With a quick motion, Luka grabbed her by the back of her shirt and lifted her in the air, “Oooh, no you don’t, kiddo!” she squirmed a little but quickly gave up, “I’m not letting you get a stomach bug, or eat a rat or something.” he couldn’t help but chuckle.

Folding her arms over her chest, Harriet pouted, “Aw... What if I wanted to eat a rat?”

Lifting himself into the air, he plopped her back into his arms, “Well, you’re not gonna.” he glanced to the sky, which had gone completely dark, “It ought to be late enough for everyone to go back home...” . At least he’d be able to hide fairly well in the dark of the night.

There were a number of police cars around the neighborhood. Luka’s body had gone cold again, not wanting to think about what would happen if one of them spotted him. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath, and then slid across the subdivision, keeping low to the ground and hiding in any shadows he could find. He crawled over fences, through backyards, and around houses until they finally reached their destination.

Their house was still pitch dark. A few police cars had just pulled away from the front--had they investigated the home? Luka chewed on his cheek, hoping that they had gotten everything they needed by now and were all gone.

“Dad,” Harriet whispered, “There are people in the front, how will we get in?”

Eyes drifting along the back wall, he decided that they’d just have to break in. How odd was that? Breaking into your own house... Well, it had to be done. Hovering to the windows, he attempted to peer inside of one, however his glowing eyes were all that reflected back at him. He scoffed in disgust.

“You ok?” Harriet asked.

“Hey, can you do me a favor?” he asked. When she nodded, he held her up to the window, “Take a look inside, and let me know if you see anyone.”

Cupping her hands around her eyes, Harriet looked through the window with a scrutinizing stare, “All clear!” she said. The pair repeated this process a few more times until they eventually concluded that the house was empty. What a relief!

“Okay, hold onto me,” Luka said. Once Harriet’s arms were wrapped around him, he located her room’s window, and pried his fingers underneath the frame. It took a bit of work, but he eventually managed to pry it open with a loud grunt, “Okay, go inside, and get your clothes.”

Harriet frowned, “We can’t say here anymore...?”

Drooping a bit, Luka shook his head, “Sorry... We can’t. Not with everyone suspicious of it, now.”

Despite her feelings, she complied and crawled through the window. As she went to find her suitcase, she turned to the window, “Can you help me...?” she asked.

Narrowing his eyes, Luka wasn’t sure he’d fit in her room, let alone through the window. But, he’d give it a shot. Pressing his head through the window, he found it to be quite the tight squeeze, but after a few attempts, he managed to get inside, knocking over a lamp in the process. The bulb shattered upon impact with the ground.

“Oh!” Harriet cried. Realizing she rose her voice a bit too much, she shrank back a little and lowered her voice, “Did you get smaller?” she asked. It wasn’t a significant change by any means--he was still massive--but he fit in her little room better than he did the alleyway.

“I don’t know,” Luka shrugged with a furrowed brow. Picking the lamp off the ground, he didn’t really know what to make of this. But there was no time to dwell on it! They had clothes and food to pack!

Harriet passed her favorite outfits over to her father, who carefully folded them into a purple-colored suitcase. A tight fit, but Harriet managed to find space for a few toys by cramming them in the pockets. They grabbed her back pack, dumping Harriet’s kindergarten books unceremoniously onto the floor. With a larger duffel bag in tow, the pair went into the kitchen to pack more supplies.

Harriet’s bag was filled with the lighter supplies--money, bandages, Luka’s phone, a lighter, and a number of other necessities. As he took a few items, such as bandages, from the bathroom, that was when he finally got a good look at himself in the mirror. He stared at his reflection blankly at first, then his expression twisted into one of disgust. He turned away, not wanting to look at it any longer.

Back in the kitchen, the duffel bag was filled with whatever non-perishable foods Luka could find, as well as a pot or two. He double-checked everything in the bags, then slung the duffel over what shoulders he had. He had to tighten the strap to make sure it stayed in place.

Luka couldn’t think of anything else to pack, especially anything that wouldn’t weigh them down too much. He was certain that he’d think of more on their way out of the city, but at this point it was best to just get the both of them to someplace safe.

With everything in tow, Luka scooped Harriet into his arms, and slipped into the night, his sleek purple body blending perfectly in the dark. As he rose into the air, he ran a few options in his head; where they could hide, where they could find shelter, where they could get food... It was going to be terribly difficult for his little daughter, and he so desperately wished that he could have simply left her with a trusted friend instead.

Harriet spoke up when they were high enough to soar over buildings, pulling him from his thoughts, “Hey... Dad?”

“What’s up, kiddo?”

“... Do you think mom was the one that did this to you?”

Luka fell silent, his tail jerking a bit. It was odd; until now, that hadn’t even crossed his mind. But as his stomach churned, he could only conclude that it was true. The drink Vanessa offered him, the sick feeling he got after leaving the restaurant, the horrific transformation. It all added up. Narrowing his eyes, he frowned deeply.

Five years later, Vanessa was just as petty as when Harriet was born.

“You know, I think you’re right.” he finally sighed, “Somehow I don’t think she’d be very willing to reverse it. For now, let’s just... Get somewhere safe.”

A pang of guilt flashed in Harriet’s eyes as she gently placed her hand against her father’s chest. She slowly nodded in reply, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly.

Solemnly and in silence, the pair flew to the horizon, uncertainty following them like a storm cloud.

[earliebirb]

I'm feeling very exhausted and sleepy and I thought what if someone wrote a small something about Steve being very exhausted after a mission and he basically face plants himself onto Tony who is at movie night with the team with full gear on and filthy from the fights, thank you already ❤

Hi there! I know you sent me this prompt forever ago and you must’ve thought that I forgot about it. I’m so sorry for only finishing the fic now, a century later. I hope you enjoy the fic anyway!

bring back my bonnie to me

steve/tony, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 1611 words 

It is halfway through Alien—Clint’s choice—when a heavy weight falls onto Tony’s back and the bowl of popcorn in his lap nearly goes flying. He freezes for a few seconds before registering the soft tufts of blond hair tickling his cheek. Tony didn’t even hear him approach. Perhaps he had been more immersed in the movie than he previously thought. 

“Hey there, sweetheart. I thought you weren’t going to be home until next week.”

Steve gives a noncommittal hum that does absolutely nothing to explain his unexpected arrival, pressing his face into the side of Tony’s neck. His arms loop around Tony’s shoulders from where he is standing behind the couch, body hunched forward with his chest resting against Tony’s back as if he couldn’t be bothered to stand upright. 

Fresh off his latest mission, Steve is still clad in his uniform, sans cowl. The two-week-turned-one-week-mission is the reason they have pushed back Toy Story to the following week—the man has made it clear that he has been dying to watch the animated movie ever since Tony first showed him a snippet of it on his phone. Technically, this week is Steve’s turn to pick a movie, but he isn’t supposed to be home for a few more days. 

Not that Tony is complaining, of course. Tony is definitely not complaining. The shorter Steve’s missions are, the sooner he comes back home to Tony, allowing him to ascertain with his own two eyes that his boyfriend is safe and sound. 

The team lets out soft murmurs of greetings upon seeing Steve, but for the most part their eyes remain glued to the movie playing on the TV screen. 

Tony has seen this particular movie more times than what is probably healthy, so he focuses on Steve instead, reaching up to ruffle Steve’s hair and smiling at the pleased groan he lets out. Besides, if he is being completely honest, no movie is going to be interesting enough to fully pull his attention off of his boyfriend.

A flake of popcorn hits Tony’s cheek.

“Keep it PG-13 or get a room, lovebirds,” Clint says. Tony turns towards him to express his indignation, but Clint’s eyes are still focused on the screen. Tony doesn’t think he will ever stop being creeped out by the eerie accuracy of his aim.

“You want to join us?” Tony asks, fingers still scratching Steve’s scalp lightly.

Steve shakes his head.

“You want to go to bed?”

“I’ll just sleep here,” Steve mumbles tiredly.

“You can’t sleep here, sweetheart.” Tony chuckles, patting one of the arms Steve has around his shoulders. The material of the uniform feels rough against the skin of his palm. With his current position, the edge of the couch must be digging into Steve’s stomach in an unpleasant way. “Let’s get you cleaned up and head straight to bed.”

“Here’s fine. Don’t need a bed.” Steve’s words are muffled against Tony’s shirt, speech becoming increasingly incoherent. “Just need you.”

Tony huffs, a fond smile on his lips. Another flake of popcorn hits him, bouncing off his stomach and landing on his thigh. This time, Tony doesn’t even bother gracing Clint with a glance.

“No can do, Sir.” Tony squeezes Steve’s wrist decisively. “Come on, up you go. Up, soldier.”

Steve lets out a displeased sigh, but eventually he straightens up groggily. Tony stands up and rounds the couch to actually get a good look at him. 

Steve’s face is grimed with dirt. There is a cut on his right cheek that Tony knows is going to heal completely come morning. 

He reaches up anyway, cupping Steve’s cheek and tracing the line of the wound with the side of his thumb. Steve blinks down at him, slow and languid. He is already struggling to keep his eyes open, eyelids heavy with exhaustion.

“Just a cut,” Steve whispers, leaning into Tony’s touch. When Tony’s worried frown stays in place, Steve turns and plants a soft kiss in the center of his palm.

Taking Steve’s hand, Tony turns to address the rest of the room. “Sorry folks, looks like you’re going to have to finish the movie without us.”

After exchanging their good night’s with the team, Tony leads Steve up to the penthouse. 

Steve tries to make for the bed the second they enter the bedroom, but Tony redirects his path swiftly to the en-suite bathroom, much to his disappointment. Steve proceeds to make his disapproval clear in the form of a frown and a pair of grumpy eyebrows creasing together.

“You’re filthy, baby.” Chuckling in amusement, Tony squishes Steve’s cheeks together with one hand. Steve whines petulantly. “You have germs, mister. Germs. Do you want me to die of germs?”

Steve glowers at Tony. Tony grins up at him. With the hand still squishing Steve’s cheeks, he moves Steve’s head from side to side. 

“No, Tony. I don’t want you to die of germs, because I love you,” Tony says, his voice an octave lower than usual. It’s a hilariously poor attempt at mimicking Steve’s voice, but it’s worth it for the way Steve’s eyes wane into happy crescents, for the way his lips twitch with the effort of holding back a smile.

“Come on, darling. All you need to do is just stand there. I’ll do all the work, okay?”

Eventually, Steve succumbs to his wiles. Tony strips Steve out of his many layers of combat uniform before undressing himself. Together, they step into the wide space of Tony’s glass shower stall, which houses a multi-jet shower system with a total of eight body sprays in addition to the rainfall showerhead that is mounted on the ceiling. Tony makes sure the water is at a sufficiently warm temperature—warm enough to become hot after a while, because Steve likes it that way—and sets the body sprays’ water pressure to a pulsating massage.

When the water hits his skin, Steve groans audibly. Tony runs his hands soothingly up and down Steve’s sides.

Doing exactly what he promised, he lets Steve stand still while he lathers soap all over Steve’s body, mentally cataloguing all the bruises and cuts he manages to find. He also works shampoo into Steve’s hair, massaging his scalp with the gentle press of his fingers. 

He turns the water back on afterwards, letting the soap suds disintegrate. Even after their bodies are rinsed clean of soap and grime, they continue to stand there in the middle of the shower stall, indulging in the pleasant pressure of warm water against sore muscles. Tony rests his forehead on Steve’s sternum, arms holding him close. 

After a while, when their fingers have become wrinkled prunes, Tony reaches over and shuts the water off. The bathroom is thrown into abrupt silence. It is broken only by the sound of water circling down the drain and the sound of their breathing, which echoes in the enclosed space.

He plants his chin on Steve’s chest and looks up at him. Steve’s eyes are still closed. He looks unfairly breathtaking even when soaking wet, water droplets hanging precariously from the tips of his eyelashes. 

Tony lets the hands he has on Steve’s waist slide up to his shoulders, thumbs caressing the jut of Steve’s collarbones. 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Slowly, Steve’s eyelids flutter open. His eyes hold Tony’s gaze for a long moment before dropping down to his lips. Tony’s eyes track the bob of Steve’s Adam’s apple as he swallows.

“What?” Tony whispers, meeting his eyes again. Steve’s arms are warm around him, pulling him closer as if they weren’t already pressed skin to skin.

One of the corners of Steve’s mouth hitches up in a lopsided smile that Tony has grown incredibly fond of. Amazement swims in his baby blues.

“Just wondering where I’d be without you.”

Tony hums with his eyes turned to the ceiling, pretending to ponder the answer. 

“Slumped over the back of a couch, probably. Asleep. Sweaty, bloody, and filthy.”

Steve laughs softly, not bothering to disagree. He leans down to capture Tony’s mouth in a kiss, ardent and saccharine sweet, his lips caressing Tony’s in a way that makes it abundantly clear just how much Steve has missed him. 

Eventually, Tony pulls back for air. He cradles Steve’s face in his hands, staring straight into his eyes. 

“Thank you for coming home safely,” he whispers, solemn with sincere gratitude.

At that, Steve’s eyes soften. “I missed you. So much.” 

Steve reaches for the ball chain hanging from Tony’s neck, twisting it around his fingers. He has an endearing habit of touching the chain of the dog tags Tony never takes off—the feel of it against his fingers a reassuring reminder of where Tony’s affections lie. He has always taken pleasure in the sight of Tony wearing something that belongs to him, whether it’s his dog tags or one of his shirts.

Tony seems to have also cultivated the same habit. On nights where he misses Steve like a lost limb and the man is somewhere out of reach, touching the dog tags brings him a ridiculous amount of comfort. 

It makes him wonder if that is what it would feel like to wear a ring from Steve—if Tony would be able to fool him enough to actually make him do something as insane as marrying Tony. 

“Right back at you, mister.” If Steve notices the way Tony’s voice has gone thick with emotion, he doesn’t comment on it. Tony pats his cheeks lightly. “Come on, let’s dry up and go to bed.”

When Steve releases the chain, the dog tags clang against the edge of the arc reactor.

“After you, sweetheart.”

[sarcasticfina]

Fic Writer Tag Game

How many works do you have on AO3? 263

What’s your total AO3 word count? 4,901,188

How many fandoms have you written for, and what are they? including the fandoms on FFnet, that haven't yet been moved over to ao3, that'd be a total of 37. separating the larger fandoms (marvel, dcu) into their individual parts: Thor; Arrow; Smallville; The Vampire Diaries; Glee; Captain America; Supernatural; Teen Wolf; Iron Man; Life with Derek; Firefly; Friday Night Lights; X-Men; Fantastic Four; Harry Potter; Sons of Anarchy; Girl Meets World; Batman; Daredevil; From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series; Transformers; Lost Girl; Game of Thrones; Banshee; High School Musical; The OC; One Tree Hill; CSI: New York; Degrassi; Gossip Girl; NCIS; The Unusuals; Criminal Minds; iCarly; Secret Life of the American Teenager; Twilight; and The Listener

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. and I wonder (if everything could ever feel this real forever) - darcy/bucky - Steve tells him that Darcy's harmless. Bucky imagines, on paper, Darcy is harmless. HYDRA wouldn't give her a second glance. But he does. He can barely keep his eyes off her. He's not sure he wants to. | Kudos: 5576

2. I Climbed The Tree To See The World (When The Gusts Came Around To Blow Me Down, I Held On As Tightly As You Held On To Me) - darcy centric | darcy/steve - The path to self-discovery, including becoming Coulson's assistant-slash-liaison-slash-bff, Captain America's lady love, and rating fourth on the SHIELD BAMF scale, was like the yellow brick road; it was chaos and confusion around every bend. | Kudos: 3973

3. Take a little piece of my heart (and keep it for yourself) - oliver/felicity - A collection of Olicity prompts on Tumblr posted here for easier access/reading. | Kudos: 3498

4. You put your arms around me (and I'm home) - darcy/bucky - A collection of Darcy/Bucky oneshots, drabbles, and prompt fills. | Kudos: 3293

5. you (anchor me back down) - darcy/bucky - "I'll be right back." Famous last words. | Kudos: 2747

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? not all of them. i do try to keep up on them, especially on longer stories when there's been significant wait times in between chapters, or when a reader is asking a question or is unclear on something. and especially when someone writes a really indepth comment/review, i like to respond to those and talk about motivations and character growth.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? I've written a number of fics that either had suicide or major character death, so i'm not sure if one outranks the other in terms of most angsty... hmm... i remember "be still and know that I'm with you (be still and know that I am here)" and "light a match, burn the world to ash (I will watch it die, and hold your hand as I fly)" both got some pretty intense reactions when they were posted. And "It's Your Song That Sets Me Free (I Sing It While I Feel I Can't Go On)" was basically just angst from beginning to end. buuuuut, i think i'll say "so you think you can tell (heaven from hell" was, only because there's a build up of everything going so right, only to pivot at the end, so it feels very bittersweet.

Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written? i loooooove crossovers. i find writing in the marvel fandom makes things quite easy, but also smallville. as long as i can find a common thread, i enjoy finding a way to overlap two shows. i'll say the hardest one to write was "ruby red slippers (unavailable in her size)." I'm not sure why, but i found writing each personality together just felt strange. i liked the idea behind the story, but i definitely remember feeling like i was really forcing myself to keep going, like something just didn't fit right.

Have you ever received hate on a fic? oh, definitely. you cannot please everyone, it's impossible. for the most part, hate comes and i either argue back, take the criticism for what it's worth, or just ignore it when it's baseless. i think the hate that bothered me the most was a homophobic PM someone sent me re: "you know I will adore you ('til eternity)," on FFnet. i actually went and searched it up. they've since blocked me so i can't read our whole thread back and forth. but i did put part of it on tumblr so i could rant on it a bit, so you can see that here.

Do you write smut? If so what kind? ha. yes. depending on the story, it can be really detailed or really flowery. it depends on the ship, the plot, and how graphic i feel like being. i've definitely become more comfortable over the years with my writing. that said, i think everybody likes something different. i once had a reviewer tell me a sex scene was too much, just too intense. it was a stefan/caroline story and to be fair, that entire oneshot was just them fucking, lol, but it is what it is. to each their own.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Multiple times.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! for the record, i am always happy to have my stories translated and shared. i just like having a link sent to me and to be credited.

What’s your all time favorite ship? i have a list of OTPs, because interests change and as shows come and go, my love for a ship can be shelved for a while before it pops back up at random. currently, i can't get enough of buck/eddie from 9-1-1. and, historically, chloe/oliver (smallville) and felicity/oliver (arrow) have been two of my top OTPs. but i think i'd have to go with bonnie/damon. they had all the potential and the show dropped the ball by not exploring it. at the same time, that's kind of a blessing, because i don't trust those writers to properly explore what they had without eventually destroying it for the likes of de/ena. it means a treasure trove for writing where it could have gone and all the what if's.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will? the intention is always to finish. but given how i feel about allison mack and how that impacts my feelings re: chloe sullivan, pretty much anything with her as a main character is not something i see myself returning to.

What are your writing strengths? What are your writing weaknesses? i'm putting these together because my strength is my weakness. i love to write. when i get an idea, i go all in and i will skip eating and sleeping to just write write write. but i also eventually hit a wall and i get so many ideas that i hyperfocus on one until the steam is gone and then i hyperfocus on the next one to maintain that need to keep writing, accidentally leaving the last story in the dust for entirely too long. i also have clinical depression that comes and goes, which hasn't been super great mixed with covid and isolation, so more often recently, i find myself overly exhausted and despite wanting to write, can rarely get motivated to do so. so, pre-covid, wrote so much i left entirely too many stories dangling. during covid, i've just been reading and struggling to get myself focused enough to do what i love.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? i appreciate the authenticity when possible, but i've recently been reading more about how native speakers of other languages feel when a) their language is butchered by google translate, or b) it's just not genuine in terms of how bilingual speakers act or speak.

What was the first fandom you’ve written for? it was smallville, but i remember adopting it out to someone else because i wasn't going to finish it. so if you look at my ffnet, the first fandom i wrote for appears to be x-men: the movie, but i remember writing a chloe/oliver story prior to that.

What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written? i have a lot. i mean, on ffnet, i have 576 stories, many of which were transferred over to ao3, with a lot of oneshots and drabbles getting joined together into collections. so there's a ton to pick from that span a 14-ish year timeline.

"you know I will adore you ('til eternity)" and "let me break (the walls that surround me)" hold a special place in my heart.

honestly, each story is important in its own way. there are bits and pieces of each that i love. every time i write something new it feels like my favorite. my best. and then a new idea comes along. there are scenes i've written that i loved more than the whole of what they became. lines that stand out that are almost too good to be a part of the larger picture.

one of my all time favorite passages i've written was bonnie's thoughts on damon and herself in 'if you love me (let me go)":

He is far from perfect. He is a novel of red, corrective ink. He is frayed pages and torn binding. His life, his choices, his mistakes leave lasting effects on everyone he meets.

She is a lifeboat with a hole in it. An anchor that drowns in the sea while everyone else remains steady above. She is both the calm and the storm, and while she screams that she will not be tamed, she cries. Bittersweet tears that go unnoticed and uncared about.

there are other stories, other pieces of dialogue, that i've been proud of. that make me laugh when i re-read them. that make me cry. and i love them. there are others that make me wilt and cringe and regret. it's a process. love and pride and growth, all bound together.

Tagging: @absentlyabbie, @anonymous033, and anyone else who'd like to fill this all out, haha

[zalrb]

Awake {Bonkai Fanfic}

Alright! I finished the BK Preview, it’s below the cut. NSFW obviously, I don’t think I have a single BK fic that isn’t NSFW. I could make this a two-parter or leave it honestly.

not my gif

Awake

The rest of this fic was inspired by this Olake moment in Scandal

Bonnie Bennett sat on the sofa with her feet up, nursing her second glass of wine, as Mark cleared the coffee table of their plates.

           “You really should let me help,” she said.

           “No, no, no,” he insisted. “This was my anniversary gift to you, that means I do the clean-up.”

           Bonnie smiled and beckoned him toward her, kissing him gently on the lips with the promise of something more.

           “Mm,” he moaned. “I better get these done quickly.”

           “Yes,” said Bonnie. “Or I might start with you.”

           The knowing quirk of her eyebrow almost made Mark trip as he walked toward the kitchen, a bit of a hurry in his step. Bonnie chuckled lightly to herself and took another sip of wine, looking around at the living room. It was a mix-and-match of her belongings and Mark’s. They had only been living together for a couple of months and they still hadn’t struck a balance between their two aesthetics to make their house look more cohesive.

Bonnie sighed deeply. For the first time in a long time, she felt settled. Maybe even content. Whatever she felt, she didn’t think she’d be able to feel it again after Enzo. It had taken a few years and a lot of distance between herself and Mystic Falls to get to this place. Limited communication with Damon and Elena, with Alaric and Caroline; they only served to remind her all that she lost and keeping in regular contact with them would only eventually lead to more sacrifice on her part. She’d learned that lesson many times.

She’d met Mark during her travels around the world – in Istanbul, specifically. They were both lost in the city and it turned out they were trying to get to the same place. They spent all their time in the city together after that. Both of them were traveling though they were going to different places --- he backpacked while she enjoyed the best hotels each city could offer. They kept each other up to date on the various adventures they went on in various countries. Once they both made it back to the States, they decided to meet up, then they decided to date, then, three years later, they decided to move in together.

Bonnie laughed at hearing him whistle in the kitchen. He was a good man. Simple. He liked simple things. She opened her mouth to ask him how long he planned on taking, to tease him since history proved she didn’t need to be in the same room as him to seduce him, but a draught blew through the window and stilled her tongue. The breeze was a caress on her shoulders --- her legs erupted into goosebumps, a chill seeped through to her bones and left her breathless.

She had to go outside.

“Babe,” she called, putting down the glass. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

“Everything OK?” Mark called back from the kitchen.

           Bonnie stood up. “Yeah, I just have to go outside.”

           “Why?”

           Fucking hell, because! Bonnie’s swift and violent onset of impatience and irritation made her pause. There was no reason for such an aggressive reaction, even if silent, and its randomness both scared her and compelled her to see why she felt the need to go outside.

“Hun?” said Mark.

“Sorry, I just um – I think I forgot my shawl in the yard,” she said, walking to the front door.

Why was she lying to him?  

           “I can get---”

           “No, no! I want some fresh air anyway.”

           Bonnie opened the door and walked out of the bungalow, onto the lawn. Her eyes quickly swept the street dozens of times, looking for anything out of the ordinary; but nothing about her sleepy residential neighbourhood looked out of place.

           She shook her head and laughed. She must’ve imagined it or had more wine than she originally thought, a breeze was only ever a breeze, there was nothing ---

And then she felt it.

She looked to her right and a bearded man appeared, almost as if he materialized from shadows.

“Bonnie Bennett, as I live and breathe.”

Bonnie’s lips parted, she felt something inside of herself, a fire on her skin, a fire in her belly, a hatred and a - a - ferocity, a danger --- maybe even a longing? --- that felt awfully, terribly familiar and yet she didn’t recognize the man in front of her, didn’t recognize his knowing gaze or smug smirk, nothing about him registered in her mind but she felt compelled to hate him, even though she could feel that hatred met something different to them.

Finally, she spoke. She was going to say, “Do I know you?” but what came out was, “I don’t know who you are but I know you have ten seconds to get off my property.”

The man smiled at that. “Ah, I shouldn’t take it personally,” he said. “Malivore and all.”

That caught Bonnie’s attention. Malivore, whatever it was, was supernatural. Nope. Not today. She’d been done with the supernatural for years.

“I don’t know what witch business—”

“Oh no, no, no,” said the man, walking up to her, his eyebrows furrowed. The closer he came to her, the harder Bonnie’s heart started to pound. She had the irrational fear that he could hear it and she willed herself to not be so agitated, so bothered, so … hot. It was like her internal temperature rose.

“You think I came here for witch business?” His voice got soft. Dangerous. “I gave up something I’ve wanted to do for a long time to come here. To you.”

Bonnie didn’t know how she knew but she felt it in her bones that what he’d given up was some kind of evil. It infuriated her, which only served to inflame her more. What was this? Something she shouldn’t indulge, shouldn’t unleash. She should walk away. She should go back in the house, back to Mark, she’d been so content inside. Better yet, she should eviscerate him, this man she didn’t know, this man she wanted to kill and consume all at once.

“So, you know me?” she asked.

“You know, I know you.” He got closer to her. Only a few feet away now. “All these years and you can’t escape it.” He grinned, smug. Triumphant. “You don’t even know who I am and you can’t escape it.”

Oh, she hated him.

“You get any closer to me and I will hurt you,” said Bonnie through gritted teeth.

“Is that a promise?” He took another step. Bonnie swallowed hard.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been aching for you to hurt me, Bonnie Bennett.”

Cursed words. They thrilled her. They disgusted her.

“Who are you then?” she asked. “What’s your name?”

He shook his head. “No.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

He walked even closer to her. “There’s no way in hell I’m telling you that and I’ve been to hell, many hells.”  He brushed his lips against her ear. “When you figure out my name, I promise you, you won’t be able to stop screaming it.”

Bonnie’s eyes fluttered. She pushed him away.

He was a stranger, she knew this, she had no recollection of him whatsoever in her mind, but her mind wasn’t the issue. She was so furious with herself that she could, she could ---

Bonnie seized Kai’s throat, her grip hard, her jaw clenched.

           He laughed. “Look at you,” he said. “You’ve been lusting for this for years.”

“Fuck you,” she spat.

“You’re awake now, Bonnie,” he said. “He’ll never be enough. Not now.”

Bonnie tightened her grip, moving forward so that she slammed him against the tree.

“You don’t know anything about him.”

“Only that he isn’t me,” he said. “And now that you’ve met me, that’s always going to be unsatisfying.”

“Shut up,” she warned through clenched teeth. “You know nothing about me.”

He bore his eyes into Bonnie’s and her breathing got shallow. She felt electrified with yearning and rage, desire and contempt. His body called to hers and she responded to him in a way that felt almost cosmic. She felt him before she even saw him. Everything within her screamed for him.

“I know the part of you you thought you’d never feel again even if you don’t remember it.”

He reached forward and started to undo the first button of Bonnie’s jeans, sprouting an ache between her legs. She let go of his throat and slapped his hand away, but as soon as she did, the ache pulsed, making her convulse, and she started unbuckling his belt with a nimbleness that surprised her. He went back to undoing the rest of her buttons and she hurriedly unzipped his fly.

Quickly, he put his hand into her waistband, slipping it beneath her underwear and made contact with her ache.

           They both gasped.

           “You don’t remember me but you remember this, don’t you?” he said, rubbing her.

           Bonnie’s legs trembled. She bit the inside of her lip to keep from mewling, her tooth piercing it so intensely, she thought she was going to bleed.

           “Don’t you?” he whispered in her ear, nipping her ear, circling his finger faster.

           Shit. She did. But she couldn’t make any sound of pleasure, she couldn’t give him that satisfaction. He must’ve read her mind.

           “Tell me you like this.”

           His rhythm became agonizingly slow.

           No! Please no! She pressed her lips together to keep from begging aloud but she could feel the neediness radiate from her. He knew how to torture her.

           “You like it,” he said. “Tell me.”

Nothing she’d felt had been anything like this --- she craved him with a hunger that she did her best to contain, but she wanted him inside of her but oh God, she wanted him inside of her. And she hated herself for it.

Even though Bonnie didn’t say anything, he leaned down to kiss her like a gut reaction, like he couldn’t hold out waiting for her to give in, but Bonnie stopped him by returning her hand to his throat, pinning him to the tree. He didn’t get to do that. He hadn’t earned that. She slipped her free hand beneath his waistband now, holding him, her lips parting at the intensity of his hardness.

He groaned, rich and deep. Her breath hitched. She stroked him, compelling him to massage her quicker. He made no effort to contain his sighs and pants and moans --- wet noises that agitated Bonnie’s own pleasure. As if it was all too much to witness and bear at the same time, he closed his eyes.  

“Look at me,” Bonnie demanded.

He moaned.

“You piece of shit, look at me.”

His eyes snapped open, hooded and cloudy. “I – fuck.”

This was wrong. So wrong. Dirty. Awful. She could feel it too --- her shame. But it felt too good for her to stop, to tell him to stop, for any of it to stop. She knew, even now, that she wanted more. She wanted it all. She ---

“Hmm.” Bonnie whimpered. She couldn’t help it. She was close. “Shit,” she moaned.

“Yes.” He smirked, his eyes alight with lust and vicious triumph. He didn’t take them off her. “Tell me you like it,” he said, his voice was breathy and greedy. He intensified his motions --- her legs were going to buckle.  

“Tell me you like it,” he insisted.

“I like – I ---” Bonnie was too overcome to finish her thought. Thank God. He would’ve won otherwise.

She climaxed, her muscles spasming around his finger, and she bit him hard on the shoulder as she released, feeling the satisfaction of him convulsing against her body as she pushed him over the edge.

There were a few moments of them slumped against each other, panting and jelly-legged, where there was nothing but oblivion and then --- Mark’s voice.

“This sure as fucking hell isn’t the backyard.”

[banditthewriter]

Trust Is Earned - Charles Vane - 10

This is it! The end of it! I wrote this fic so quickly fully expecting maybe one or two people to read it so I am just... moved and in awe of how many people have interacted with this fic. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy the conclusion! 

Warning: Violence. 

Also, check out under the tag list on this post for a surprise!

*gif not mine*

Enjoy!

------

Noise from the deck didn’t filter down to the hold, but the sound of a cannon blast did. You shrank down as if the blast would blow right through where you were, but nothing came. No crash, no explosion of wood. The blast had struck the water. Nearby, perhaps, but not close enough to do damage.

A warning shot. From who though?

You’d thought that noise didn’t filter down from the deck but it turns out that they just hadn’t been very loud. Now you could hear yells and the sound of feet thundering back and forth. The voices grew to the point that you could make out very clearly someone yelling that there were two ships.

Hope rushed through you. You sat up and tried to strain your hearing for more. It was fairly quiet for a while to the point that the hope started to be dashed.

Gun shots. You swore and ducked down again even though you knew you were fairly safe where you were. At least you didn’t hear anymore—

The blast of a cannon broke that chain of thought, but it sounded like it came from the ship you were in. The other ships would have to return fire if only to protect themselves. A glancing shot here could tear a hole into the side of the ship where it would start taking on water. You started to make as many mental contingencies as you could.

You needed to be prepared for anything.

The ship seemed to shudder under you in a flash, causing you to crash into the bars of the cell. Was it a cannon blast that you missed? Then, as if to answer your question, the noise went higher. In it all, screams became more clear. It sounded like even more gunfire and even swords clashing.

The vanguard. The ship you were on had been boarded. Whether it was friendlies or not, you still didn’t know, but at least there was a possibility.

Stomping came in your direction and you looked at the door in anticipation. When it was flung open, the captain of The Tempest stormed in. He shut the door behind him but he didn’t have time to lock it before it was kicked open.

Behind the door was the best thing you’d ever seen. Covered in blood and holding an even bloodier sword stood Charles Vane. Behind him you could make out Lucky and Flint.

You nearly sagged in relief. Right then you knew that you were safe. The two ships mentioned had to be The Ranger and The Walrus. There was no way The Tempest could survive that.

No way this captain could survive it.

As Charles stormed forward, you quickly darted a hand out of the cell to get his attention.

“Charles, wait, don’t,” you called until he turned to look at you. “Get me out of here and then I’ll explain.”

He didn’t seem happy with that but he didn’t argue with you. While he kept his sword pointed at the unarmed captain, Flint and Lucky came over to get you out by busting the lock on the cell. Once you were out, you stepped past the two men and went over to Charles.

“Now?”

You reached out and wrapped your hand around where his hand was, pulling the sword from him. There was barely any change on his face, but you could see by the way his eyebrows furrowed that he was confused.

You were about to clear that up for him.

When you turned to the captain, you could see that his shoulders weren’t as tense. He looked at you, his mouth open and gratitude spilling from his lips.

With as much strength as you could muster, you thrust the sword into the man’s throat. Blood sprayed out and onto your nightgown but you didn’t even notice. All you did was kneel down so that you could look him in the eye as he choked on the blood that spilled from his mouth and throat.

“That was for Pope,” you said with such force that he flinched back, causing further damage to his wound.

There was no surviving that. Satisfied that your own debt had been paid, you stood up and turned around to face the men in the room. Flint looked impressed. Lucky had a look of gratefulness and respect. And Charles…

Looked a lot like he wanted to kick everyone else out of the room and have his way with you.

“Can we leave? I really want to go back home.”

As one the three men spread out so that you could walk through them, Charles at your back. His hand went to the small of your back to lead you and you took comfort in the touch.

On deck you saw that most of The Tempest crew had been killed. You wished you could feel bad for it but you were unable to. You looked around for the familiar faces of the two crews and even found the rest of your crew waiting for you.

“Thought you’d never get on a ship again,” you teased Emmett as you approached them.

“For you ma’am? We’d sail the seven seas.”

You greeted them each with a smile and your hand. Each one shook it before they pressed their lips to it, a show of respect and loyalty that made tears gather in your eyes.

“As nice as this all is, what do we do with The Tempest? Sink her?”

You looked over at Jack and smiled at him, earning a grin back. Anne rolled her eyes but even she had a small smile for you.

“Not while we’re on her,” Flint said as he looked to either side where the two ships were. “Let’s clear off. Take anything of worth. We’ll commit the rest to the sea.”

You didn’t even bother pretending to think about which ship you’d go to as you turned towards The Ranger. Not that you’d have much choice since Charles was there to escort you that way. He walked you over the bodies of the fallen Tempest men, across the board, and then through his ship to the captain’s quarters.

“How’d you find me?”

He led you over to the desk and sat you down, checking over you to make sure that you weren’t injured. The only injury that you had was where you were cracked in the head by a pistol but it was just tender to the touch with some dried blood in your hair.

“One of your crew recognized one of your abductors as a crew member of The Tempest. Once we knew that, we got Eleanor Guthrie to give us their course. Not sure why they decided to drop anchor here, but it was easy to find them.”

“He said they were meeting a man who he was going to sell me to as a slave. I was going to be brought to the colonies.”

You didn’t bother telling him that the captain had threatened you with how horrible it would be for you. It could be seen on your face. 

Charles reached out and grabbed your chin gently to make you look at him.

“That’ll never happen. I’m going to keep you safe.”

You thought about the captain in the hold of his ship, soon to be fired upon until it sank. There was a hole in his throat where you had thrusted Charles’s sword, hope dashed from his face as he died. 

“I’m going to become able to protect myself,” you declared right then and there, a promise between the two of you. “I’m tired of being scared of what might happen. I want to learn.”

You could see pride on his face as he stared at you.

“You will.”

------

“Drink?”

You looked over at Charles as he rolled over to grab a bottle of rum from beside his pallet on the floor of his tent. You shook your head as you tugged a thin sheet over your naked form.

“No, I don’t really drink,” you admitted as you shifted on your side to watch him. “I’m a lightweight but I don’t particularly like not being able to remember what I’ve said or done.”

He laughed as he rolled over, taking a swig from the bottle as he did. 

“That makes sense,” he said as he put the bottle on the floor above his head.

You narrowed your eyes as you looked him over, trying not to get distracted by all the naked skin before you.

“What do you mean? I haven’t had a drink since I met you.”

It was his turn to turn on his side. As he did, his hair fell off his chest and revealed the brand on his chest. You’d noticed it earlier when the two of you started to remove each other’s clothes, but you hadn’t thought anything of it. He’d told you on the short journey back to Nassau about his past with slavery so you’d known it was there. But now you were looking at it, you were sure you’d seen it before.

Not just any version of it though. You remembered this exact brand. Braids tickling your chest as someone moved above you. A deep raspy voice asking you what you wanted him to do.

“You!” You gasped it out as you covered your mouth. “It was you that night at the inn, wasn’t it? And you’ve known this entire time?”

He laughed as he grabbed the hand over your mouth, pressing a kiss to the palm.

“I didn’t know you didn’t remember. I thought you just wanted to ignore it.” 

You remembered how you felt when you learned he hadn’t realized that the kiss hadn’t been a dream. Now you knew what it felt like to be on that end of things. 

That night you’d slept with someone, some of the best sex you couldn’t remember, it had been Charles. Like fate was pulling strings and laughing at her own jokes, she had thrown the two of you together before you’d even realized what it was you wanted.

“I’m so embarrassed. I can’t believe I didn’t remember you,” you said with a bit of a self deprecating laugh as you tucked your face into his chest. 

“Will you remember it this time?”

You pinched his arm before you leaned up to kiss him, not caring that the sheet fell from your body. How could you possibly care about that when you had him with you?

------

Wind whipped through your hair as you sat on a barrel on the deck of The Ranger. Anne and Jack were sword fighting, your attention on how Anne moved as you tried to commit it to memory. She had been training you how to fight and to be trained by Anne Bonny was an honor.

Even Jack was reluctant to pick on you now.

When the pair started to argue about particulars of the fight, you shook your head and walked off towards the railing. The two of them were known for fighting for hours before they ran off to fuck and make up. Instead of watching their strange form of foreplay, you decided to watch the ocean rush by.

Your hands on the rail, you tried to think of all the changes you’d gone through in the past few months. Your shop was being watched by your crew except Lucky who stayed with you while you sailed with The Ranger.  And here you were on a pirate ship, sailing into the unknown on a hunt.

The wind rustled the skirt of the dress you had worked tirelessly on. It was beautiful and simple, not the dress of a pirate but not the dress of a lady. You felt like it showed the truth of who you were, who you had become in the past months. 

Hands fell to your waist but you didn’t even jump. Charles liked having you at hand so you were used to being touched. His mouth brushed your cheek and then your neck before he looked out over the ocean with you.

“Imagining you’re a bird in flight?”

You smiled at the reminder as you placed your hands over his, tugging his arms more securely around you.

“No. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere but right here.”

X

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@stormfire6​

X

And, as a surprise... a little snippet of the next Charles Vane fic that I’m working on! It’s nowhere near done, but hopefully this will be enough to catch your interest for now!

***

The sand felt coarse under your feet. The top layer was warm but underneath was cool and felt nice against your skin. You walked along the edge of the water, your shoes in one hand and a handful of your dress in the other. If your parents caught you, you’d be forced to listen to a lecture for an hour or two, but you had no intention of being caught.

In the morning you would be on a ship headed out into what was to you the great unknown. It would leave from a port in Virginia and, after a few other stops on the way, would take you to England. To a future you never asked for.

To a man you never asked for. Your parents thought it was a good match but you didn’t agree. Mostly because you’d never met the man, couldn’t even recall his name. 

A marriage for love was never in your cards, but this? To be auctioned off to the highest bidder and shipped across the world to a country you hadn’t stepped foot in since you were an infant?

It was unimaginable. 

You would be given into the care of your aunt and uncle in England and they would see you married off to the man your parents had picked for you. They didn’t even care enough to see their only daughter married in person. All they cared about was that it was done in a timely manner and that you did what you were told.

You’d spent your whole life doing what you were told. You were tired of it. You never expected to have a life of adventure and freedom, but you felt like you were being shackled.

From the distance you heard your name called by someone from the household. You sighed as you sat down in the sand to put your shoes back on. 

In the morning you would be thrust into a world not of your choosing. You had just wanted to enjoy the last bit of your independence while you still had time.

It seemed that the time had passed.

X

Keep a look out for... Eye of the Hurricane