#this fucking took me OUT though I’ve watched the show several times and just. didn’t notice ig

[its-malarkey]

In honor of my best friend finally watching LMK, I’m doing a full re-watch with her. She only has season 5 left and I got a little behind, so I’m playing catch-up. I just finished S4 E9 and.

Peng 100% calls Yellow Tusk “darling” here

(I know what you are)

[kelppsstuff]

So like what if Adam didn't die and lute managed to come out of the battle WITH an arm?

I want both of them to suffer a little so hear me out

What if our dear reader is an exorcist? So of course she's an angel!

What'll their reaction be if the two witnessed their dear close friend, the sweetest angel and friend they had the fortune to meet in their long lives, sacrifice herself so that the two of them would go back safely? (Forcing herself to go beyond her limits, healing all of their wounds and even opening a portal back to heaven just for the two of them.)

+ the fact that they're both horrible people and the only person who cared for both of them, tended their wounds, always there to back them both up, is now gone?

Angst is calling for me to make the two of them suffer a lil

Omg yes! This is such a good idea! I love making characters suffer! ALSO I do every request so don’t be afraid to send them! And it may take me some time to get to them, but I shall get to them. Sorry it took so long hope you enjoy! By far the favorite thing I’ve ever wrote. Like legit made me cry.

“I’m so fucking sorry!”

Part One| Part Two

Masterlist

Warning: death, angst, cursing

Summery: Adam and Lute watch you die, the only person they loved

—

“Are you guys sure about this? I mean what if her father shows up?” You spoke to the two exterminator angels.

They both looked to you simultaneously and there eyes softened on your worried form. Lute was the first to speak up to ease your worries. “It’s gonna be okay. Lucifer was the one who let us do this yearly anyways.” You nodded your head. She was right but you still worried.

“Don’t worry about it, hot stuff. If he shows up I can handle him.” Adam spoke ever so confidently. “Promise?” You were so afraid for them. Adam walked over and gave you a hug, kissing the top of your head. “Promise.” You reached out for Lute, wanting her to join the hug as well.

As she joined the hug you spoke from between their chest. “After the battle let’s all go and have a beach day.” The two angels laughed and agreed.

—

You hurried to Lute as you so saw her rip her arm off. You never flew so fast in your life. When you got to her you stopped her from flying after Vaggie. “We have to help Adam!” She spoke frantically.

“And I will. You need to sit down and let me help you first.” You sat her on the ground and placed your hands over where her arm should be.

A white glowing light came from your hands as you focused on rebuilding her arm. You started to feel dizzy as blood pooled in your moth. You could see black spots but when you were down Lutes arm had been good as new. You would t even know it’s been severed if not for her uniform sleeve. You two went to stand but the ground rumbled. You looked up and saw a golden light. Adams golden light came down in the middle of the hotel.

You quickly threw Lute away from the beam and got hit instead. A cut was in your shoulder. In went clean through. Your arm was fucking toasted from the severed nerves. You finally blacked out.

—

“Welcome to heaven.” Saint Peter spoke as you arrived at the golden gates. Though you weren’t interested in him, more so the man beside him talking to another female. “Then when the concert was over a BUNCH of girl came to the back to meet me. It was awesome.” The man spoke. You quickly intruded the conversation. “You play in a band?”

The man is what seemed like a mask turned to look at you, while sipping his drink loudly. “Sure am babe! Your looking at the first man!” Your eyes widened, but not because he was first man. “What part in the band do you play.”

You showed no interest in him being the first man. Normally that would piss him off but this time he didn’t care. “Guitarist.” Your smile widened.

You looked to the girl, clearly wanting her to joking the conversation as well. “Are you apart of the band?!” You were so excited and nice. It felt refreshing for Lute. “No.” Her voice sounded cold, though talking to you sparked a warmth inside her. “I’m Y/N.”

Lute smiled and extended her hand. “Lute.” You started to excitedly shake her hand. Happy to make a new friend.

Adam wrapped his arm around you both. “I’m Adam.” Well two new friends.

—

“You guys what?!” You asked, eyes wide at what just came out of Adams mouth. It was a slip up on Adams part. They had just gotten done with the extermination and Adam was use to telling you everything. So he may have slipped up and started talking about the extermination.

“Listen babe. It has to be done.” Adam was worried. Worried that you would get kicked out of heaven if Sera found out you knew.

Lute was the one who explained the whole situation. How the sinners were up-rising. How it needed to be done to protect heaven.

To both Adam and Lutes surprise you understood. It made them happy that you were accepting of it. For the first time they truly felt like someone wouldn’t leave. Sure they had each other before this but there friendly relationship really started from you being there glue.

“Okay babe but now that you know you have to become an exterminator like us.”

That made you nervous but Adam and Lute always stayed with you during it. They also didn’t expect you to kill anyone. All you needed to do was wear the uniform one day a year.

—

You stared at the papers that needed to be done. Since you didn’t kill the demons you demanded to do Adams paperwork.

You slowly blinked. You were tired but you had an hour to finish this and give it to Sera.

A coffee was placed right in front of you. You looked up and saw Lute. You smiled at her and grabbed the coffee. You also grabbed her hand and gave her a friendly kiss on the lips.

It was something you two had started doing recently. A way to give each-other the attention you craved.

Just as that had happened Adam walked through the door. His eyes widened. You were quick to explain it was platonic before he could assume anything. One he understood what happened he demanded you start doing that with him. He demanded the same thing from Lute as well.

As time went on many people believed you were in a poly relationship. But y’all were platonic friends who did romantic things sometimes.

Sure y’all all had sex together quite a bit, but no one ever felt any romantic feelings. It was all friendly and it felt natural.

—

You groaned awake at the sound of Adam shouting. “All of man-kind came from these nuts!” You opened your eyes to see Lute staring down at you, panic in her eyes. You smiled at her. Though your moment was cut short at the sound of Adam gasping. You looked over to him and saw a little maid stabbing him. You and Lute shouted Adams name as your hurried to fly to him. Fuck.

“Adam look at me your going to be fine.” You spoke your tone in confidence despite the tears running down your face. He smiled at his two girls looking over him.

He may have lost two wives, but he gained two best friends he would never replace for a damn thing.

You started to heal his wound with your hand like you did Lutes arm. You could feel pain all throughout your body as you pushed your limits. Your eyes started bleeding as did your nose.

Lute was conflicted as she watched you. She knew you needed rest but she didn’t want Adam to die. All you had to do was save Adam she would get you to a hospital.

But you weren’t making it back.

As Adam eyes opened he felt better than the first day he was made. He looked to Y/N and she smiled at him. Happy he was okay. He went to talk but she fell to his side. Her breath shallow. He hurriedly got up and looked her up and down. At that moment the portal closed and all the angels were gone beside him, you and Lute.

“Fuck babe look at me.” Your eyes were distant but you focused back in on him. Your Adam. Your apple.

“I love you, Apple. I love you too, wild girl.” You said to them both. Making them cry harder. “I love you too. More than anything.” They both said to her simultaneously. You closed your eyes and a portal opened.

“Fuck!” Lute shouted. She knew you weren’t going to make it.

“I’m so fucking sorry!” He spoke loudly as your eyes started to flutter closed. “It’s okay. Be happy. And go have that beach day.” Lute sobbed in her hand as she fell to the ground.

Adam gripped to you harder his tears falling to your chest as he cried silently. He couldn’t shout anymore. “Come back to us.” He whispered. You didn’t complete his wish. The one time you didn’t give him what he wished for.

Your breathing stopped and your halo fell. “I’m sorry baby.” Adam cooed in your ear, as he started to rock the two of you. Begging for god to give him back the one of the two woman he ever loved. You and Lute.

He looked to the sky. “You cruel manipulative bastard! Was a good person. I thought god was supposed to be merciful.” Lucifer watched as the first man shared the same rage he once had with god. “I have never asked for anything! I didn’t ask for Lilith. I didn’t ask for Eve! All I ask is to bring Y/N back to us.” But god did not respond. Leaving Adam to turn his rage to the group watch.

“I will kill you all!” He shouted, the tears coming from his eyes seeming endless. “I will have my vengeance.”

He picked you up as Lute grabbed your halo. The two walked through the portal.

They did have that beach day, but it was your funeral. Where your body was buried where no one could find. Only him and Lute. The two hugged each other as they both lost the person they loved most.

—

OMG I HAVE NEVER CRIED WHILE WRITING SOMETHING UNTIL THIS DAY! But I hoped you enjoyed! And I do take requests so please send away!

- kelp 💛 (someone help I’m dying from heartache)

Taglist

[mrprettywhenhecries]

don’t waste your time (on me) [g.t]

02. | Just a Coincidence, I Guess

Gator Tillman ✘ Win Lewis (OC)

⇾ w.c. 5.3k words ⇾ warning(s). canon x oc pairing, f!oc, masturbation, slight misogyny, attempted assault, pervy!gator, inexperienced virgin!gator, subby!gator to switch!gator pipeline, nipple play, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie ⇾ a/n: I know a lot of people write dark/dom!gator, but he's the subbiest sub to ever sub to me

Gator just keeps turning up, like a bad penny, but when he happens to be in the right place at the right time, saving Win from a would-be assailant, she can’t help but be grateful.

[ masterlist • win bio ]

“Oh fuck yeah, fuck, that feels so good, baby.”

Gator’s hand slipped down his length, fisting himself to the grainy video playing on his laptop screen.  Several days later, their run-in was still fresh in his mind.

“Fuck, Winnie, you’re such a dirty girl, ain’tcha?” he drawled under his breath, his hips jerking up into his hand.  “Suckin’ me off right out in the middle of the road.  Shit—“ he groaned, remembering all too well the sweet way her doll eyes had flicked up to him, moaning as he’d flooded her velvety mouth with his spunk.  She’d been feisty to begin with, but by the end she’d obeyed so nicely, showing him the mess he’d made before swallowing it down like a good girl.

Gator’s phone vibrated across the desk and he swore under his breath, speeding up desperately, not wanting to stop when he was so close, even though he knew Roy’d be pissed if he didn’t pick up promptly enough for his taste.  

Squeezing his eyes shut, he drew his bottom lip between his teeth, thinking hard of Win’s sweet mouth and seconds later he tensed, hips jerking as he spilled his load over his hand, shuddering as he milked the last of it and immediately grabbing his phone with his free hand and answering it, panting hard in the receiver.

“What took you so long?  You go for a run or something?”

His father’s voice filled his ears and Gator fought to catch his breath.  “Yeah, something like that,” he answered, wrinkling his nose as he reached for something to clean himself up with as Roy sighed through the phone, launching into the reason he’d called. 

Gator listened distractedly, his mind still swirling with thoughts of her and how he might go about seeing her again.

“You listenin’ to me, son?” 

Roy’s voice once more jerked him back to attention and he grimaced, sitting up in his chair.  “Yeah, yeah, I heard yeh.  I’ll be right there.”

It had been several days since Win’s little traffic stop, and ever since, it seemed every time she turned around, there was Deputy Tillman–in line at the bank when she stopped to deposit her paycheck, stalking the convenience store aisles while she payed for gas at the Revere, in the booth next to her at the shooting range, and finally, at the bar she worked at.  At first he just watched, as if working up the courage to talk to her.  It was kind of pathetic, though she supposed she couldn’t exactly blame him for not knowing what to say.

What did you say to the girl who sucked you off to avoid getting a speeding ticket?

Unable to take it any longer, Win set a beer in front of where he sat at the bar, fiddling with his vape pen.  “Y’know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were stalking me, Deputy.”

Gator jumped slightly, his brown eyes snapping up to her face before his brows pulled down and he grabbed the dark bottle in front of him.  “What do you mean?” he asked, hunching over slightly to lean his elbows against the polished wood of the bar top.

“Cut the shit, Gator.  You’ve been turning up everywhere I’ve been for the past few days,” Win scoffed, watching him expectantly, just waiting for him to deny it.

Gator shrugged, bringing the mouth of the bottle to his lips.  “Just a coincidence, I guess,” he drawled, taking a swig and Win nodded, expecting it.

“I know what you’re doing, okay?  And it ain’t gunna work,” she huffed, throwing him a level glare.

Gator’s brows rose and he spread his hands innocently, a hint of a grin gracing his features.  “And what’s that?”

“You’re just following me around, hoping to get lucky again,” she answered, and Gator’s grin grew.

“You offering, Lewis?” he asked, tilting his head coyly.

Win crossed her arms over her chest as she rolled her eyes skyward.  “Stop tryin’ to be cute.”

Gator blinked at her, his dark eyes flashing mischief.  

“You think I’m cute?” he taunted, cocking an eyebrow at her.

Win opened her mouth, a scathing comeback on the tip of her tongue despite the warmth that rushed to her face, but before she could loose it, another patron stumbled up to the bar, interrupting them.

“Hey sweet thing,” he exclaimed obnoxiously, grinning at her as he leaned heavily against the bar next to Gator, ignoring him completely.  “Think I could get a refill, doll?”

“Alright, this is your last one though,” Win sighed, grabbing the bottle of Jack from the shelf behind her and pouring a splash in the bottom of his tumbler before sliding it across the bar back to him.  He caught it with a grin, but didn’t move to leave the bar just yet.

“So, I was wondering when your shift ends, and if you’re doing anything later,” the man drawled, looking pointedly at Win, causing Gator’s brows to furrow deeper, a scowl marring his features.

“Hey fella, we’re kinda in the middle of something here, actually, “ he huffed, turning on his barstool to size up the other guy.

“Yeah well, I wasn’t talking to you Deputy,” the man sneered back, noting the badge hanging against his chest.

Gator’s jaw flexed, but he didn’t respond, bringing his vape to his lips and taking a hit.

“So what do you say, doll?” the guy asked again, flashing Win a grin that didn’t impress.  

“Sorry, I’ve got plans,” she replied and Gator couldn’t help but smirk at the look on the other guy’s face.  

“You heard the lady, she’s not interested.  Now if you’ll excuse us–” he drawled, blowing his cloud of scented water vapor at the man and lifting an eyebrow expectantly.

Grabbing his glass, the man sneered, looking between Win and Gator.  “Ain’t like she’s going home with a loser like you,” he scoffed.

“Enough!” Win snapped and the man shot her a confused look.  “I think you should leave,” she added, her voice level, though she was almost as surprised at herself for the flash of anger that had filled her when he’d called Gator a loser.

“You can’t make me!” the guy scoffed incredulously and Gator got to his feet.

“No, but I can,” he exclaimed.  “So why don’t you get scarce?  Unless you want me to drag you outta here in handcuffs?”

For a moment the man didn’t back down, puffing his chest out and holding Gator’s hard gaze before letting out a heavy snort and finally turning away, leaving his empty glass on the bar.  As soon as the door shut behind him, Win let out the breath she’d been holding and turned her gaze back to Gator. 

“Thanks,” she murmured, running her hand through her hair in relief.  “I thought you were gunna actually have to cuff him for a second there,” she laughed.

“Me too,” Gator chuckled, finishing off the rest of his drink.  “Y’know, if you really wanted to thank me, you could, uh, you know, take me home with you,” he said nonchalantly, leaning against the bar, a hopeful look on his face, and Win groaned, her amusement shifting to disgust.

“Really, Gator?” she exclaimed, throwing his empty bottle in the trash bin with more force than necessary.  “And here I was starting to think you might actually be a half decent guy, but apparently you can’t even do anything nice without expecting something in return.”

Gator quickly opened his mouth to defend himself, but Win didn’t give him an opening, barreling on.  

“Maybe your daddy shoulda named you after a different animal, you pig!”

“Win, wait!  Shit–” he hissed under his breath as she stalked away to the other side of the bar, ringing the bell for last call while defiantly avoiding his gaze.  

“Fuck,” he grunted, running his hand over his slicked back hair as he decided what to do, finally heading for the door.

Win watched him leave, chewing her lip.  God, but she needed a cigarette.

For a moment, she wished she hadn’t stood up for him.  He was a loser, but the hurt look in his eyes had felt like a kick in the stomach, and Win had acted on impulse.  As much as she wanted to hate Gator, she couldn’t.

For a moment, he’d seemed so earnest, and then he’d gone right back to his misogynistic asshole self, and Win began to wonder which was the real Gator, and which was an act he put on.

Sighing, she put it out of her head.  She needed to focus on closing up.

By the time Win stepped outside to lock the back door, all was quiet.  A few lone cars sat parked in the lot, their occupants sleeping off their buzz before driving home, and Win paused to dig for her pack of Marlboro’s out of her jacket pocket, tapping one into her hand as her boots clicked across the asphalt.

Lighting her cigarette, she took a deep draw, watching the cherry burn brighter before a dark shadow waiting by her car brought her up short.

“Who’s there?” she called, wishing she hadn’t left her pistol in the glove compartment.

“Just waitin’ for you to get done, doll,” a voice drawled, the man from earlier stepping out of the darkness, showing his face.

“I told you, I already have plans.  My friends are waiting,” she lied, discreetly positioning her keys between her knuckles as he took another step closer.

“I could show you a real good time,” he said, sucking his teeth, his voice slurring slightly.  “You wouldn’t regret it.”

“Wish I could, but I’m already late,” Win replied, glad at least her voice didn’t waver, giving away how scared she was, her heart beating against her ribs like a bird in a cage.

“Aw c’mon, don’t be like that, darlin’,” the man cooed, spreading his hands as he circled her.

“Stay back, I’m warning you!” Win exclaimed, getting ready to make a run for it.

The man’s smile only seemed to turn more predatory and fear shot through her like a bullet.  Suddenly, a pair of blinding headlights flooded the night, and the rev of an engine was the only warning before the vehicle it belonged to charged straight at Win’s assailant, the bumper grazing him as he frantically dove out of the way.

Win stared at the car that had saved her, ‘Stark County Sheriff’ emblazoned on the driver’s side door before it opened and Gator stepped out, tipping his hat to her before circling the cruiser to grab the guy by the collar, punching him square in the face and knocking him out before cuffing him.

“Jesus fuck Gator!” Win cried, finally finding her voice as she hurried over, Gator throwing his arm out to keep her behind him as he reached for his two way, calling the dispatcher.  

“10-26, I’ve got an assailant in custody outside Frankie’s Tavern, but I’m off duty.  Can you have someone come pick this asshole up?  The victim’s pretty shook up, I wanna make sure she gets home alright.”

Win opened her mouth to argue that she could drive home just fine, until she realized with chagrin that Gator was right, she was shaking like a leaf.  The adrenaline that had flooded her veins moments ago was leeching away, leaving her shivering.

“You okay?  He didn’t touch you, did he?” Gator asked, shrugging his leather jacket off to drape around her shoulders.

“No.  No, he didn’t get close enough,” Win murmured distractedly, jumping slightly when she felt his jacket wrap around her, warmth seeping back into her, the scent of Gator’s Axe body spray filling her nostrils.  “Thanks,” she mumbled distractedly, pulling the sides of the jacket tighter around her.

“C’mon, let’s get you home,” Gator murmured, leading her to the cruiser’s passenger door as another sheriff’s vehicle pulled into the parking lot.  “I gotta go talk to my officer for a sec, I’ll be right back,” he said, holding the door open for her before going to meet the other cop, helping him haul the unconscious cuffed assailant into the back of his SUV.

Win couldn’t make out what the two were saying, but Gator glanced over at her several times, so she figured it had something to do with her.  

It wasn’t long before the other officer nodded to Gator and the two parted ways, Gator climbing into his seat and shutting the door.  “You doin’ okay?” he asked, his eyes flicking to Win as he put the car in drive.

“Yeah, m’fine,” she murmured, keeping her gaze on the dark windshield.  “You know where you’re going?” she asked, wondering if he knew already exactly where she lived.  She wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

“It’s on Euclid, right?” he asked, turning off the main highway.

“Yeah.”

Gator nodded, drumming his fingers idly against the steering wheel.

“How often you drive past my place?” Win asked, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

Gator snorted, his lips twitching.  “Only a few times, had to make sure you weren’t getting into trouble,” he chuckled, sparing her a wry glance.

“Uh huh, sure,” Win countered doubtfully.  “You sure you aren’t stalking me, Deputy?”

“I don’t care for that insinuation, Miss Lewis,” Gator drawled, the yellow light of the street lamps overhead illuminating his face as they passed.  “I’m an officer of the law.  My concern is purely professional.”

Win barked a laugh.  “Professional, right,” she scoffed.  “That’s rich, coming from the guy who accepted a blow job in exchange for a speeding ticket.”

“Hey, you were the one who offered,” he pointed out, reaching in his pocket for his vape pen.  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were the one trying to seduce me.”

“As if,” Win muttered, glad it was dark in the car so he couldn’t see the flush that rose to her cheeks.  “Bet you just loved saving my ass tonight,” she huffed bitterly, shaking her head with a sigh.

Gator was silent for a moment, turning his face away to exhale his plume of sweet smelling vapor.  “Ain’t gunna lie and say it didn’t feel good,” he admitted, adjusting his grip on the wheel, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.  

“That don’t make you any less tough though,” he murmured, finally glancing at her, his words taking her by surprise.

“Hell, you’re probably one of the most capable girls I know.  I’ve seen you at the shooting range, your aim’s about as good as mine.”

Win snorted, a grin tugging at her lips.  “Almost?  It’s better than yours,” she teased and Gator rolled his eyes, though he shared her grin, not refuting the fact.

Falling silent, he pulled into her drive and threw the cruiser into park.  “You gunna be alright by yourself or…?” he asked after a moment, watching Win wring her hands silently in her lap.

“Uh…” she hesitated, waging an internal battle with herself for several seconds before cracking.

“Look, this isn’t because I owe you or anything, but… would you come inside with me for a bit?  I just don’t wanna be alone right now,” she admitted, certain if she looked up, that he’d be wearing a smug grin, no doubt already thinking he’d be getting lucky, but Gator merely nodded, a concerned expression on his face.

“Yeah, course,” he murmured, turning the car off and unbuckling his seat belt.

As silly as it seemed, Win couldn’t help but feel a little safer as Gator’s shoulder brushed hers as he escorted her to the door.  Fumbling with her key in the lock, she swore under her breath, hating the way her fingers trembled.  Finally, the deadbolt turned and she shouldered the door open, reaching along the wall to flip on the light switch.

Gator’s eyes traveled the small living room that opened to an equally small kitchen and dining area, taking in every little detail and filing it away.

“Nice place,” he murmured, shifting his weight as Win locked the door behind them and toed off her scuffed boots.

“Thanks,” she replied, handing him back his jacket.  Gator seemed to notice the way her hands shook and frowned.

“Why don’t you go change into something more comfortable and I’ll make us some coffee or something.”

Win hesitated, unsure if she should get too comfortable with Gator in her house, but she felt dirty after what had happened, and the idea of her pj’s did sound nice.  

“Alright.  Holler if you need anything,” she said, leaving him in her kitchen.  She could feel his eyes on her back as she walked away, but she fought the urge to glance back at him, and eventually she heard him turn on the tap and pop a coffee pod in her Keurig.  

Stopping in the bathroom, Win splashed some water on her face and scrubbed her hands before heading to her room to strip, keeping her back to the door as she dressed, figuring she’d be quick enough not to bother shutting the door completely.

“I didn’t know how you took your coffee, but I saw some creamer in the fridge so I used that—“ Gator said, his words cutting off as he stopped in the doorway, two steaming mugs in hand, unabashedly watching as Win reached for her tank top.

A low whistle left his lips and Win quickly pulled her shirt over her head before turning to look at him, fixing him with a level look.

“Perv,” she muttered, though there was no heat to it and she took one of the mugs from his hand before sitting down on the edge of her bed.  “Want some whiskey?” she offered, reaching for the half empty bottle on her night stand, unscrewing the lid and pouring a splash in her mug.

“You’re something else, you know that?” Gator chuckled, joining her at the edge of the bed and letting her spike his coffee as well.

Win shrugged, blowing on her drink before taking a sip.  “I guess.”

“Really.  I don’t think I’ve ever met a girl like you before,” Gator murmured, wetting his lips, brown eyes flicking to grey.

“Bet you say that to all the girls,” Win teased, a sigh of relief leaving her lips as she wrapped her hands around the mug, the warm liquid burning pleasantly down her throat, warming her inside and out.

Gator snorted into his mug.  “Why do you always doubt me, huh?  It’s hurtful,” he exclaimed, placing a hand over his chest, his eyes dancing with amusement.

“Maybe I like messin’ with you,” Win murmured, the whiskey dulling her inhibitions.  “You get cute when you’re all huffy,” she admitted.

“I’m not cute,” Gator scoffed, his expression twisting in offense, though a dusting of pink crept up his neck.  “Cute ain’t manly.”

“You seemed to be fine with me calling you that earlier,” Win pointed out, rolling her eyes and taking another drink.

Gator grimmaced.  “That was different.”

Silence fell and Gator looked down at his mug, searching for something else to say, not wanting the moment to end yet.

“Noticed your sweet gaming setup out there,” he said, nodding toward her living room.  “Didn’t know you were a gamer.”  He sounded kind of impressed.  

“I wouldn’t say that, but I do enjoy a good first person rpg,” Win replied, a small smile tugging at her lips.  “Lemme guess, your game of choice is COD?”

“Nothin’ more satisfying after a long day than kickin’ some ass and rackin’ up some headshots,” Gator boasted, making Win snort in amusement.

“Oh my God, you are such a dude bro.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Gator exclaimed, gaping at her.  “You’re the one who thinks I’m cute!” he pointed out and her mouth fell open.

Setting her mug down, she poked him in the side, grinning as he yelped, and soon she was trying to fight his hands away in his attempt to get her back, the two of them ending up falling back to the bed in laughter.

For a long moment, Win laid there, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath, heat washing through her as she watched Gator’s face.  He really was cute, especially when he laughed.  

He’d managed to take her mind off the events from the night, and now all she could think about was how close he was.  All she had to do was lean in and she’d be able to press her lips to his.  His eyes flicked up to hers expectantly, pupils dilating with want, but he didn’t move, waiting for her to decide.

“Oh fuck it,” Win whispered, her lips crashing into his before she could think better of it.

Gator groaned, reacting instinctually, his hands clutching at her hips to pull her closer as he kissed her fervently, swallowing her surprised moan as his tongue invaded her mouth, writhing and rolling against hers.

Overwhelmed by his eagerness, she bit down, just hard enough to elicit a hiss from him before sucking on his tongue, a strand of saliva connecting them when she finally pulled back to gasp a breath.  Gator chased her retreating lips, not ready to break the kiss yet.  

Hungry for more, he nipped at her bottom lip as his hand slipped under her tank top, his palm greedily sliding up her stomach til it found her warm breast, her nipple already a hard peak, nestled between two smooth ball bearings and he moaned deep in his throat.

“Didn’t know your tits were pierced,” he breathed, pushing her shirt up the rest of the way, wanting to see them.  Tweaking her piercing, his mouth fell open as Win let out a gasp that turned to a moan as his mouth descended hungrily on her nipple, his tongue swirling around it before flicking it playfully.

“Gator—“ she whined, grinding against his thigh that found its way between her legs, the lean muscle putting just enough pressure against her aching cunt to earn her a little relief, but not enough.

As soon as his mouth left her nipple to switch to the other breast, the cool air against his left over saliva sent Win’s skin pebbling and she arched against him, running her fingers through his slicked back hair, uncaring if she messed it up, her nails biting lightly into his scalp.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Gator mumbled as he sat up to get a look at her, her arms thrown back against her head and her bare chest heaving. “Want you so bad,” he groaned, his voice breaking.

“Strip,” Win ordered, pulling her own shirt off and tossing it away before slipping her pyjama pants and damp cotton panties down.

For a moment, Gator didn’t move, his gaze trained on her naked body until Win tugged at his tight black t-shirt, practically ripping it off him as he fumbled at his belt and cargo pants.

Knowing what to expect when his cock finally sprung free, Win swallowed, her mouth watering, remembering the weight and feel of it on her tongue and she couldn’t help but wonder how good his girth would feel inside her, stretching her.  Despite her reputation, it had been a while since she’d slept with anyone.

“Like what you see?” Gator boasted, noticing the look on her face and Win pulled him closer, her lips colliding with his to shut him up as she grabbed his hand and guided it between her thighs, needing to be touched.

“Oh fuckkk,” Gator groaned into her mouth as his fingers explored her dripping folds.  “You’re so wet,” he marveled, his cock twitching against her stomach and Win opened her legs wider for him, rolling her hips against the heel of his palm.

For a moment his thumb slipped up too high and Win let out a frustrated huff.  “Here,” she breathed, guiding his fingers to her clit.  “Right there, little circles,” she gasped, electricity coursing through her as he obeyed, careful to follow her movements over her sensitive nub, exploring and tucking the knowledge away.

When his digits delved deeper inside her, his own hips grinding desperately against her, slick pre cum leaking from his pink head, Win gasped.  “Curl them,” she instructed, moaning loudly when his fingertips grazed her spongy g-spot.  “That’s where you wanna hit with your fingers or cock,” she breathed, kissing him deeper, tasting the warmth of the whiskey from the coffee on his tongue.  

“Want you inside me, Gator,” she whined, wanting more than his fingers, her entire body aflame with need.

“Yeah?  Want my cock, Winnie?” he drawled, kissing down her neck as he continued to pump his fingers into her, her cunt squelching noisily around them.  “You’re such a little slut for me, aren’tcha?” he teased, latching onto her pulse point and sucking hard, his teeth sinking into her soft flesh before soothing the sting with his tongue.

Win let out a hiss.  “You leave a mark where anyone can see and I’m decking you, Tillman,” she grumbled, but her threat was undermined by the moan that bubbled up from her chest as she said it.

“What?  Don’t wantin’ anyone knowin’ I own this pussy?” Gator chuckled darkly before yelping in surprise as Win pushed him to his back and threw her leg over his hips, straddling him.

“You don’t own me, Gator,” she growled, slipping his length between her folds only to grind against him, not letting him into her yet.  “No one does,” she added, watching with pleasure at the way his brown eyes pleaded with her, a string of needy moans leaving his pretty mouth.

“What was that?” she cooed condescendingly and Gator’s fingers bit into her hips where he grasped her.

“Jesus Christ, just fuck me, Winnie, please!”

“Oooh if your daddy could hear you now,” she teased, but relented, reaching between them to grasp his length and position it at her entrance.

Whatever retort Gator had ready on his tongue was quickly swallowed as Win lowered herself slowly onto him, allowing her time to adjust while careful not to make him cum too soon.  That would be a waste, and though she’d deny it, she wanted to show him a good first time.  She’d never taken anyone’s virginity before.

“Holy shit—“ Gator whined, trying to buck up into her impatiently, his eyes rolling up into his head as she sheathed him.  “Shit, oh shitttt you feel good,” he breathed, a flush creeping up his neck and chest.

“You’re so cute like this,” Win whispered, leaning in to steal a quick kiss before moving her hips, riding him in earnest.

Gator couldn’t seem to formulate words for a moment, a slew of needy whines and groans the only sounds leaving his kiss swollen lips.  His hands roamed her body, slipping up her hips and around her back, pulling her down against him as she ground down on his cock, relishing the friction where their bodies came together.

“Need to feel you,” he mumbled, kissing her sloppily as he held her against his chest, the warmth of her feverish skin against his exactly what he wanted.  “Oh Win,” he whimpered, moving in time with her, the way he moaned her name going straight to her head. 

Fuck, but she wanted to ruin him, wanted to be ruined by him.

With a gasp, Win fell to her back, Gator rolling atop her, taking the lead while she was distracted.  “Wanna fill this pretty pussy,” he growled, taking her by surprise by his sudden burst of dominance and Win’s breath hitched.

Desperate to finish, his hips snapped into hers, the room filling with their staccato breaths and the slap of skin on skin.  Afraid he was gunna cum and leave her hanging, Win quickly slipped her hand between them to desperately rub her clit, letting out a cry as the added stimulation drove her to the precipice.

“Holy shit—“ Gator hissed as Win’s cunt clamped tighter around him, her velvety walls fluttering and contracting deliciously.

“C-can I—?” he choked out, his thrusts turning jerky.

“Yes!  Cum inside me.  On the pill,” she managed to stutter, that familiar heat licking up her body as her muscles tensed, the spring inside her gut snapping and spilling over.

“Fuck, Gator—!” she cried, her back arching as she came and he pounded into her until his cock swelled, suddenly spilling his load inside her, a high pitched whine leaving his lips as he tensed, twitching and spasming before he collapsed atop her, completely spent.

Realizing he was probably crushing her, Gator rolled off her to his back, panting heavily as he caught his breath, his dark hair in complete disarray and a sheen of sweat coating his pale skin.  

“How was that, huh?” he asked, rolling to his side and propping himself up on his elbow as he watched Win pull the sheets up around her chest, a hint of insecurity hiding behind the bravado in his voice.

Win laughed, letting her head loll against her pillow as she turned toward him.  “It wasn’t bad,” she replied, a small grin playing at her lips as Gator’s brows furrowed.

“Not bad?” he huffed, gaping at her.  “You were practically screaming my name by the end!” he pointed out smugly and Win rolled her eyes, her fingers trailing mindlessly down his chest, counting the small moles that littered his body.

“Yeah yeah, don’t let it go to your head, Tillman,” she murmured.  “I was the one doing most of the work, remember?  Better not go fallin’ in love with me just cause I took your virginity,” she joked.

“I’m not!” he spluttered, hesitating, his brows scrunching up further.  “I just… wanna know if it might happen again, that’s all,” he mumbled, avoiding Win’s gaze, which turned distant at his words.

“I don’t know… It would probably be better if it didn’t,” she muttered, sitting up and reaching for his vape pen, needing a hit of nicotine to calm her sudden rush of nerves.

“Why?” Gator countered, pushing himself up as well.  “What’re you so afraid of, Winnie, that you might actually start to like me?” he scoffed, a bitter note to his low voice.

“Oh c’mon, you’re exactly the sort of guy that I should stay far away from,” Win huffed, letting her eyes flutter shut as she exhaled, the vapor curling lazily around her parted lips.

“Yeah?  And why’s that?” Gator demanded, not backing down, a hurt look contorting his face.

Win fought the urge to look at him, knowing if she did, she’d lose her nerve.  “Hell, Gator, look at us.  It ain’t like we got all that much in common!” she pointed out, chewing her lip.

Gator snorted, glancing around her room at the band posters covering her walls, many of them bands he himself listened to, thinking of all the other little things they shared in common.  “From where I’m lookin’, it kinda does,” he muttered, his eyes boring into her back and Win growled in frustration.

“I mean, like our fundamental principles,” she exclaimed, shaking her head.  “I shouldn’t like you,” she insisted quietly, more to herself than to him and Gator watched her, realization dawning on him.

“But you do,” he whispered.

Win grimaced, finally looking at him, not wanting to admit it, and a grin slowly spread across his face, tugging at his chapped lips.

“You like me,” he repeated, his voice turning insufferably smug once more.

Win felt an angry rush of heat fill her face and quickly looked away again, not wanting him to see.  “Will you shut up?” she huffed halfheartedly, but Gator only laughed, reaching over to turn her face toward him, his grin melting away.  

“Give me a chance, Win.  Maybe I’ll surprise you.”

Helpless, Win searched his face as she bit her lip, knowing he already had.

“Alright,” she finally breathed, heaving a heavy sigh.  “Don’t make me regret this.”

“I won’t.”  Gator leaned in to kiss her softly, grinning against her lips as his callused thumb brushed her cheek.

“Think you’re up for round two?” he murmured, arching an eyebrow at her when he finally pulled back.

“Jesus Gator, you’re insatiable,” Win huffed, but she didn’t protest when he rolled her to her back, reaching between her legs with a needy groan.

⇾ taglist. @super-unpredictable98 @b1tchy3lf @heartbreak-sandwich

[eemcintyre]

Both Sides Now (Terry Silver)

TW- references to SA, crying, slight noncon vibes (? like grabbing someone by the wrist ig). Nothing too crazy; stuff is winding down lol.

Summary- After the events of "Tainted Love", Y/N experiences an intense nightmare and Terry comforts her. The next morning, after a great deal of thought, she finally decides the future of their relationship.

At long last!! The grand finale!! I hope everyone enjoys it as much as they have the first two parts- the positive feedback and comments for more have been incredibly touching- sorry it took so long! <3 :)

Once Terry had succeeded in pulling Y/N over the threshold of their room, he let go of her wrist. Hearing the soft click of the door locking, she immediately staggered to the furthest corner of the room, rubbing her sore wrist and eying him like she was waiting for him to lunge at her and choke the life out of her or something.

Terry, who had begun removing his watch and rings one by one, had his back to her but sighted her trembling reflection in the mirror above the dresser. Jaw clenched, he shook his head, placing his signet ring in a gold trinket dish with a clatter.

“Are you going to sleep in that?” he inquired without turning around, unbuttoning his sleeves.

She was still wearing her day clothes, shoes and all, and showed no sign of changing. He turned around.

“Oh, stop looking at me like you’ve never seen me before. You knew I was a twisted son-of-a-bitch when you married me.” Terry said bitterly, shrugging free of his shirt.

Over the last several days, Y/N had indeed relived many of their past interactions in her head over and over, in detail, trying to figure out how she couldn’t have seen it. Or had she? Outbursts that had been disproportionately angry to whatever the issue was; telling her just enough about his past in such a way that she felt like she knew a lot, when in reality, there was a lot she still didn’t know.

Every time she had waved the ominous feelings away, rationalizing the incidents as one-off unflattering moments that any person is prone to. Had it been unconscious, or had she really so willfully avoided viewing all the pieces together as a whole picture?

“You and I may have both tried our best to bury that side of me, but I’ve never not been that guy; he’s been here all along.” Terry's eyes glassed over, and Y/N knew he was thinking of the war again. “It sounds like a stupid cliché, but you don’t survive what I have without becoming pretty fucked up. It’s been my nature for a long time- maybe always.”

Now clad in a pair of pajama pants, he approached the corner where Y/N stood rooted. She clutched at the wall behind her like she was trying to crawl into it, even though he wasn’t even close enough to touch her if he were to reach out.

“But there’s a difference now,” he murmured, glancing briefly down at his hands and back to her, and she noticed that he had left his wedding band on. “I used to just hurt people out of self-preservation, or because I enjoyed it for the sake of it,” he said matter-of-factly. “But now it’s because I have someone to protect… and I do it for her.”

Y/N caught herself rubbing the fingers of her left hand together, feeling the smaller matching band around her finger in addition to the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

“The man you met the other day… he is me.” Terry quirked his eyebrows grimly, nodding in acknowledgment of his own words. “But the man you know and love has become a part of me just as much.” Y/N choked out a gasp and a single tear escaped her eyes; she could have sworn that she saw a flicker of the old, familiar Terry. “They show it in different ways, but both of them love you more than anything.”

Transfixed by his words, Y/N hadn’t noticed Terry slowly drawing closer to her until his face was inches from hers. Recognizing that he was leaning in to kiss her, she slammed her hands into his chest and ducked under his arm.

He flew backward several steps and they stared at each other for a moment, frozen and silent apart from the sound of her panting. She was surprised she had been able to catch him off-guard and was prepared to bolt for the other side of the room.

“Still too soon,” he nodded, circling to his side of the bed with a look of disappointed acceptance and laying down. “Well, if you want to sleep on the floor in your shoes, that’s your prerogative,” he sighed.

Evaluating her options, Y/N eventually decided to slip into a pair of pajamas, climbing into their bed but curling up, with her back turned, as far away from Terry as possible without falling off.

He figured that it was progress and didn’t press the matter further, switching off the lamplight.

~

Terry had no idea what time it was; only that it was pitch-black and he’d been stirred from sleep by a noise. Propping himself up on his elbows, he scanned his surroundings, listening carefully for the noise to repeat itself.

“Mhn… n-no…” Y/N’s voice, muffled by sleep, pillows and blankets, sounded from her side of the bed.

Terry felt her move- at first, she merely seemed to be shifting positions, perhaps rolling over. But her movements didn’t still, and her voice sounded again, this time louder and with more urgency.

“No, don’t!”

Terry squinted through the darkness, leaning in closer to look at Y/N. Her limbs began to thrash under the covers as she cried out in unmistakable distress. He grabbed her by the shoulders, gently trying to shake her awake, shaking her harder as she refused to wake up.

“Stop it… stop! Terry!” Finally, she jolted awake screaming, frantically kicking her legs at the air and hammering at Terry with her fists until she recognized him and realized whatever she had been dreaming had been just that.

Relaxing her limbs, she took in Terry’s face with her eyes and her hands as if to confirm he was real. Once she had sufficiently convinced herself, she dissolved into sobs, desperately pulling him toward her and on top of her like a protective shield.

“You were dreaming, darling. You were just dreaming,” he reassured her, aching with concern. But God, it also felt good for her to hold him again; to feel her again. “I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”

Although Terry was confused by the sudden demand for affection, he was willing to give it to her without hesitation. Eventually she settled down enough to loosen her grip on him so that he could turn on the lamp and put his glasses on. When he turned back to look at her, she was huddled in the sheets, her face glistening and puffy from crying.

“What on earth is wrong?”

Y/N hesitated to respond, sniffling and wiping her cheeks. “It was a horrible nightmare a-about… about him… I couldn’t get away and he at-attacked me… and I was all alone, and no one could hear me, and it hurt, and I was so scared...”

She reached for Terry again and he scooped her into his arms, holding her on his lap as he leaned against the headboard. Every hot tear that dripped from her cheeks onto his chest and each of her ragged, choked-out breaths reaffirmed in his mind that he had done the right thing.

“Shh. Okay, okay. None of it was real, angel. He’s gone. And no one else is getting to you as long as I live.”

Terry held her, curled up in his lap, until she eventually fell asleep. He thought he heard her sob at one point “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry...”

~

When Terry and Y/N woke up the next morning, facing each other on the pillows, they wordlessly examined each other’s expression. Without a doubt, they were thinking of the previous night’s events, but they did not discuss them.

Terry disappeared into the bathroom to brush his teeth and Y/N took this moment to finally peel herself out of bed, kneeling at one of the bedroom windows to slide the glass open and feel the unfiltered sun on her face. Eyes closed, she took a few deep breaths before treading to the dresser for something to put her hair up.

When Terry returned, he started to walk past Y/N, who sat on the small chair in front of the dresser, toying with updos for her hair. A typical morning ritual of theirs was for him to stop and give her a kiss on his way past her to the closet. However, not wanting to destroy the small progress they’d made and have a repeat of the last time he attempted to kiss her, Terry prepared to walk by without stopping.

When he was just about to pass her by without the customary gesture, Y/N’s arm shot out from her side to tug him toward her.

She stared up at him meaningfully, loose locks of dark hair framing her face despite the updo, and he realized that she didn’t want him to break their routine. He bent to bestow a brief, soft kiss to her lips before they continued getting ready silently.

As Terry stood in their closet, appearing to be pondering over his choice of shirt, his thoughts were actually spinning rapidly and replaying what had just happened. Did this mean that she had forgiven him? Had her nightmare, so vividly painting the picture of what could have happened otherwise, convinced her that what he did, though startling and unpleasant, had also been good in some bizarre way?

Terry snatched a smoking jacket and a shirt that matched his pajama pants from the closet.

~

Once they had made themselves sufficiently presentable for the morning, Y/N and Terry relocated to the breakfast nook downstairs.

Tucked into a small offshoot of the main dining area, the nook consisted of a small table encircled by two chairs on the side facing the home interior and a corner bench built into the wall separating the room from the outdoors. Most of the walls around the nook, and even part of the ceiling, were in fact windows that drenched the intimate corner in sunlight.

They sat across from each other at the table, and Terry observed Y/N. She was curled up on the bench in her lacy, white pajama set and a cardigan with one leg crisscrossed under her and the other bent with her knee resting against her chest.

Even though Terry had asked Tsarina to make Y/N’s favorite breakfast, she merely picked at the food and moved it around the plate, lost in a reverie, apart from nibbling the corner from a slice of her French toast and taking a few sips of tea. It had been days now since she’d had more than a few bites to eat each day.

“Darling, please. At least try to eat a little more,” he gently insisted. “Tsarina will make you whatever you like.”

Y/N’s gaze snapped from the table up to him, pulled from her contemplative state.

“No, breakfast is perfect,” she just barely shook her head, smiling thinly.

Terry didn’t immediately reply, hoping that she would continue and reveal whatever was obviously weighing on her.

“I don’t want to stir up another long conversation and I'm tired of arguing,” she prefaced, shifting on the bench. “But I just feel awful. Last night, thinking about and essentially experiencing what could have happened… I knew you were right. I knew it all along. About what you did- even if it’s in some twisted way… and about me.” She paused, attempting to still her shaking hands. When she spoke again, her voice was little more than a whisper. “Is it wrong to be happy that someone’s dead?”

“No,” he leaned in closer to her, propping his elbows on the table. “Not if the person was bad.” His tone was incredibly tender as he rested a hand over one of hers.

The old him from several decades back would have relished in the glory of someone ruefully admitting he had been right all along, but in this moment, he felt little triumph. After last night, his anger and frustration had dissipated, leaving only emptiness.

“I wish that parts of it could have happened differently,” he continued, “But maybe, ultimately, it’s all for the best. I don’t have to hide any part of who I am anymore.” His voice, like hers, fell low. “And maybe you’ll never be able to love that other guy… I'm not terribly fond of him, either... but it would be enough for me if you could still love this one. Would that be enough for you?”

Y/N said nothing as she slid her hand out from under Terry’s. He was almost always able to tell what she was thinking, but for once, he was uncertain. And uncertainty made him uncomfortable like nothing else.

Was this it? Had the darkness in him, the one thing he couldn’t seem to control, destroyed everything with her, just like it had with everyone else before? He knew that letting her in was always going to have disastrous consequences, but he’d done it anyway, like some besotted sap from a bad movie...

She appeared to withdraw back into her thoughts, although she did make a stronger attempt to eat. After she’d managed to polish off one whole slice of French toast, she straightened and drew in a controlled breath.

“Promise me that we’ll never speak of this again,” she said, her tone relatively flat, but her eye contact imploring.

“I promise."

He reached solemnly for her hand again, and they spent the remainder of breakfast that way, holding onto each other as she finished her first legitimate meal in days.  

[sharkbaiited]

As a jaws fanatic do you have any fun facts about the franchise?? Also do you have any cool marine biology facts??

INDEED I DO!!!!!! i’ve got lists on lists of fun facts about jaws! i don’t have many about marine biology as i have just begun personally studying a few marine species ;;; but i will totally remake this once i learn a bit more! also please excuse me if this post is messy, currently very sick and foggy lol. ANYWAYS!!

- the indianapolis speech that Quint gives was re-written three times because in Robert Shaws opinion (don’t bash me for this i don’t remember the whole thing) “didn’t fit quints character well enough”. shaw himself ended up writing the script and preforming it

- on the topic of Robert, he was severally drunk on set most of the time. at one point he had to be carried out onto the orca and set in his chair because he couldn’t walk 😭 he also gave the whole indianapolis speech while wasted

- susan backline actually had four sets of cables connected to her for her scene! two in the water, two on land. to preform the scene were she’s attacked, two men would run up and down the beach in different directions while the two cables under water pulled her down. in an interview she states “i didn’t have to do anything! the boys would just run up and down the beach while i was bein’ pulled around”

- The un-named boater in the pond with Michael and his friends was actually supposed to get swooped up in Bruce’s mouth as Bruce dragged him around the pond; while mike was trying to get back up onto the boat with his friends the boater is dragged by him and ends up grabbing him and dragging him with around with him until Bruce decides to take the boater underwater.

- In the original shootings, Roy Schiender says “come down and laddle some of this shit!” instead of “come down here and chum some of this shit!” … idk why i think that’s relevant to me but i think it’s funny lol

- the orca ended up sinking not once but TWICE. everyone was concerned about getting the actors off the boat and onto the mainland, while one of the crew members (forgot his name. woops.) screamed “FUCK THE ACTORS! SAVE THE SOUND DEPARTMENT!” holding mass amounts of equipment over his head while being waist deep in water

- Brody was originally going to show up in 3-4, and his cause of death was going to be because of Vengeance 👍 Roy Schiender didn’t go to film the last two because he was too tired and owed universal a few other movies

- for the cage scene, they ended up hiring a stunt double to play richard. the stunt double would constantly spit out the regulator and choke 😭

- Hooper crushing the styrofoam cup was improvised! it’s said that most of the things they did while on board the orca was improvised .

- even though dreyfuss and shaw bickered constantly, they grew to complimenting each others performances on older films! dreyfuss complimented shaws role in ‘hamlet’ and they ended up bonding and drinking together on set

- on the topic of shaw and dreyfuss’s little rivalry .. “shaw was walking down the gang plank holding a drink in his hand and said, ‘Richard, help me out here.’ i said ‘do you really want my help?’ he said he did, and i took his drink and i threw it in the water. every drinker in that crew went ‘oooooh.’ and then he got his revenge by taking the fire hose and pointing it at my face.”

i’ll add some more later on :) i know i have a full notebook/some thing saved with facts all on it. i need to watch the anniversary disc interviews again.

[mara-tevith-solo]

Sing a Little Song For Me

Part 14 of the drabble set

Warning: Teens being teens, fighting, scolding, ear pulling, sibling bonding, cursing, heart to heart, Jake being a hard parent

Author’s Note: This might be the last chapter until the movie comes out on dvd/disney+ (whichever comes first) I’ve seen the movie 3 times now and it’s getting spendy lol. Hopefully I can get at least one more chapter out but we’ll see

Pairing: Eventual Colonel Miles Quaritch x Na’vi/Avatar named f!reader/oc

Words: 1.5k+

Rated 18+

Taglist:  @seashelldom @perseny @tinyfairies​ @kimqueenofhell​ @blueberry-thrawn   @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed​

A ruckus attracted my attention as the Tsurak brought us close to the shore, sensing the vibrations and turmoil from the shallow water. I was quick to slip off the massive fish as I clocked Neteyam and Lo'ak fighting with several of the Metkayina boys, Tonowari's eldest included. I ground my teeth in frustration as I stomped through the water, none of the fighting teens disturbed by the noise as they continued squabbling and throwing punches. Kiri managed to catch my eye before I pounced, rolling her eyes at their antics right before I grabbed Lo'ak and Ao'nung by the ears and hoisted them up to their feet "Ow! Ow! Ow! What are you doing?!" Ao'nung cried as he grabbed at my wrist, trying to pry me off.

"What the fuck, Auntie!" Lo'ak hissed, flashing his teeth at me like he knew, and didn't care, that he was digging his hole deeper. I hissed back, my tail crossing each of my peripherals as it flicked back and forth, the tuft of hair at the end fluffed out with my emotions.  

I growled at the two boys as I resisted jerking their ears, instead holding them taught so that they didn't even think of disobeying "That's enough!" I barked loudly as the hair on my tail tickled my shoulder. All of the kids immediately stopped fighting and ducked their head, though Kiri sighed and crossed her arms at their behavior.

"Auntie, it's--"

"You finish that sentence and I'll make you cook for a month, Neteyam, so help me!" I growled at him over his brother's head, fixing him with the mightiest glare I could muster. He immediately shut his mouth with an audible click, rocking back on his heels as most of the Metkayina kids watched in wonder and fear. The one who's ear I had just whined at the discomfort. "Now, if one of you would be so kind as to explain what the fuck just happened? Because all I currently know is that six teenaged boys just acted like babies." My tail flicked behind me as I scowled at the re-lowered heads.

"I threw the first punch." Lo'ak admitted, looking at me from the corner of his eyes, not daring to turn in my grip.

"Ok," I sighed frustratedly, frowning down at him "why?"

"They called Kiri a freak."

My glare turned on the Metkayina boy in my grip, and then to his friends, all those that were able to took a step back, their tails low and swinging with uncertainty. "Why?" I growled, tightening my grip when Ao'nung tried to take his ear out of my fingers.  

"She is a freak!" He growled at me, his tail held up in anger and pride as he glared at me as best as he could "She was staring at the sand with her head under water! And she's so strange all the time!"

I growled openly down at him, showing off my teeth "Did you think to ask what she was staring at? Maybe she noticed something." I looked to Kiri who didn't say anything, just huffed and rolled her eyes.

"She has demon blood! Five fingers, hair over her eyes, and no sharp teeth!" Ao'nung's friend with the fuzzy looking hair piped up as though those were proper reasons to bully someone.

"Look at me, I'm nearly the same as her!" I snapped, stepping on Lo'ak's foot so that I could show off my hand, spreading all four fingers and my thumb to showcase them to the kids. "Would you harass me for this?" I asked as I took control of Lo'ak's ear again, holding him mostly to keep things fair.

"You are Toruk Makto!" One of the other boys answered, the group mumbling and nodding their agreements.

"So? I was once a Dreamwalker, a demon. Being Toruk Makto does not change that. Someone being different does not make them unworthy of care and respect." The boys hung their heads with their shame. "Neteyam, Lo'ak, Kiri, we're leaving." I let the two boys go finally before herding the Sullys up the beach ahead of me "Oh, and don't think for a moment that your fathers won't hear of this either!" I called back to the others, not even glancing back at them.

Further up the beach, nearly back to their home, Lo'ak broke the silence "Just say it, Auntie."

"And what was I going to say, nephew?" I asked, tilting my head in feign confusion at the back of his head.

"That I need to stop causing trouble, and that I shouldn't hit the son of the Chief." He grumbled back at me, only glancing back briefly.

"Well, you should stop causing so much trouble, but you are your father's son. I hear that he was as bad as you are. But Ao'nung and his cretins deserved it." I sighed. "I remember what being a teen was like, how addled my brain was in retrospect. The decisions that felt right in the moment. And I remember that kids had politics of their own that they needed to smooth between each other. Na'vi kids aren't so different." I shrugged as all three kids stopped and looked back, not expecting to be leveled with. "However, that doesn't constitute punching each other until your ruckus attracts attention. Next time it might be your dad, or worse, Ronal. Trust me when I say that diplomacy can get you pretty far in life."

"How do you know that?" Lo'ak asked boldly, causing Neteyam to whack him in the arm with a warning growl.

I rested a hand on both boys' shoulders frowning at both of them "I once put a kid in the hospital for two months because he cut my friend's hair without her consent. It felt like shit, knowing that I'd done that to someone. That I was capable without warning. I'd like for you kids to avoid experiencing that if possible."  

Jake suddenly appeared from the dwelling, his ears forward and brow crooked at the state of most of his children "What the hell happened?" He asked firmly, no doubt noticing the black eyes and bloody noses.

Before Neteyam could interject or Lo'ak could shove his other foot in his mouth, I was speaking "Just teens being teens, Jake. It's being handled." He scowled at my answer, displeased by the blatant withholding of facts and details.

He fixed his sons with a mighty glare, knowing that either one of them would crack under pressure "It was my fault--" Neteyam began again, stepping forward as Kiri skirted around all of them to continue into the house.

"I don't think so. You gotta stop taking the heat for this knucklehead." He cut his eldest off before motioning them inside, he and I close on their tails.

"I hit Ao'nung." Lo'ak admitted softly.

"What was the one thing I asked?!" Jake asked angrily, his tail flicking like crazy behind him, forcing me to sidestep so I didn't get him by it.

"To make friends." The boys grumbled in unison.

"Right! I don't need you two causing tensions!"

"He called Kiri a freak!" He defended firmly, desperate for his father's understanding.

Jake deflated very suddenly, looking around our small gathering "Go apologize." He ordered without much force behind his words. "Go apologize to Ao'nung and make peace." Lo'ak left in a huff, not getting what he needed from Jake and not fighting for it. As Neteyam made to leave, Jake stopped him "So, what'd the other guys look like?"

"Worse," The boy smiled slowly, testing the waters "much worse." Jake nodded as a final dismissal, a small measure of pride on his features.

"You are too hard on Lo'ak, Jake." I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.

He was instantly defensive, scowling down at me like my words were unwelcomed and unwarranted "It's my job as his father."

"You cast him aside, you favor all your other children above him!" I argued in a low hiss, stepping closer to make our conversation more private. "He is your carbon copy and yet you treat him like an affair child."

Jake deflated again, much more than the previous time "I know," he nodded, not looking me in the eye as he turned and leaned against the doorframe "that's why I'm so hard on him. I don't want him to end up like me."

I tilted my head to the side as I regarded him, looking deeply into him before coming to stand against the other side of the doorframe, crossing my arms over my chest in thought "Why would it be so bad if he did? You turned out pretty spiffy from where I'm standing. You were Toruk Makto, Olo'eytukan of the Omaticaya, your mate is one of the fiercest beautiful women either of us has known. And you have four amazing kids. If anything, you've given him enormous shoes to fill."

He chuckled almost bitterly, eyes staring out into the horizon "All that happened because of Pandora. On Earth I was nothing but a disabled vet turned bar fly who constantly picked fights. Nothin' respectable about that."

"You were also twenty-two, Jake. Just give him time to mature, and try to be more understanding. He adores you, only ever wants to make you proud." I sighed before straightening up and stretching a little "Ronal asked me to help her in the Healer's House this afternoon, so I'll catch up later. Just, please remember my words Jake."

He nodded and said nothing, instead retreating back inside without a glance back.

[tabbycatplushy]

Big Questions: Prologue

Featuring: Joule, Mocha, Paprika, Natalia, Lizzie

2.9k words. Full story: 18k words

Joule has just moved to the city, and now she finds herself living with two friendly, pretty, gay, attractive... roommates. When she suddenly shrinks down to five inches tall, will she be able to deal with the consequences while navigating her budding poly relationship?

This prologue chapter is mostly a rewrite of my old story, First Meeting, with some extras leading up to this larger story. The actual shrinking doesn't happen until chapter one, sorry!

[disability, shrinking, lesbian romance, anxiety, polyamory, furries]

>> PROLOGUE (YOU ARE HERE) >> CHAPTER ONE >> CHAPTER TWO >> CHAPTER THREE

MARCH

Joule twisted the four screws that secured the side panel and lifted the dark glass pane, revealing the mismanaged guts of the customer’s computer.

“You said it just won’t turn on?”

“Yeah,” said the customer, a bearded human. “So what’s wrong with it?”

“Let’s find out.”

With deft paws she began excavating the actual components from the tangled mess of unused wires and connectors inside. She started pulling out these pieces, laying the useless things off to the side. As Joule worked she tried hard not to focus on her boss, who was observing the interaction from the sidelines.

Don’t fuck this up, please don’t fuck this up…

She tried to distract herself with small talk. “So… you built this yourself, huh?”

“Yep. Watched a few YouCube videos and followed those. I did everything right, so I think one of the components is busted.”

“Ah.”

She finished digging out the last of the superfluous stuff. “Well the first thing I’m seeing is… all this. Do you know what it is?”

“Those are just the extras, they don’t matter.”

“Extras?”

He made an exaggerated nodding motion. “The extra wires and stuff that came with everything else.”

“So… why are they in here?”

“Because I didn’t want to lose them?”

“Ah, of course.” Joule took a deep breath to regather her patience. Her tail snapped angrily behind her. “Well, now that I’ve cleaned it out a bit, let’s see what we can see.”

She began to pick through the wires and boards, feeling each with the tip of her claw before moving on to the next. She felt electricity thrumming within each one. And then…

“Here we go.”

She plucked up a group of small cables and moved them to another port on the motherboard. “The case’s power button wasn’t connected right. Should work now.”

“Really? I could’ve done that.”

“Well, you didn’t. Thank you for choosing TekRite. By the way,” she handed him the bundle of extra junk. “Keeping this stuff inside the case will cause problems over time.”

“Yeah, whatever. So like, how much are you going to charge me?”

“We don’t charge for quick fixes like this. Just remember us when it actually breaks.”

“Oh, nice.”

The bearded human collected his things and left without another word. Joule sighed as she pulled off the grounding wire attached to her arm, and turned to her boss. “How’d I do?”

Kurt, a balding human in his fifties, was the owner of TekRite: a local computer store tucked in the corner of a strip mall, and the place where Joule had worked for the past week.

“You were a bit snappy with him. But your advice was sound, and you diagnosed the problem quickly. That power of yours is real’ nifty.”

Kurt had already put her through several tests to make sure she could actually detect electrical current as she claimed. Then, for the past week, she had been shadowing him as he showed her the ropes of working at TekRite. This customer was the first real test of what she had learned.

“Sorry sir, I’ll try to be more patient with the customers.”

“See that you do. You’re doing great so far, though. Customer service is the one area you could stand to improve in.”

The rest of the shift was a mix of training and hands-on work with some other broken PCs. She spent most of it hunched over the counters, working on this or that. By the end, her feet and back ached from all the standing. She was glad to finally clock out at the end of her four hours. She enjoyed her job; if only she wasn't so tired at the end of it.

When she had landed this job, Joule had thought for a moment that things were finally going to get easier, at least for a little while. But while she had now secured a job, she hadn’t exactly figured out her housing situation yet.

For the last three weeks since she moved to San Orchidia, she had been sleeping on her cousin Alex’s couch. And while Alex kept saying she could stay as long as she needed, Joule could tell it was wearing on them more and more every day.

Despite all of that, Joule let herself relax just a bit; the next part of her day was bound to me far more pleasant. She checked her watch; eleven o’clock. Plenty of time to walk to the coffee shop.

Several months ago, Joule met Mocha and Paprika in an online gaming community. The three of them had hit it off instantly, and started messaging daily soon after. They had made plans to meet up in person as soon as Joule got into town; plans which had been continuously pushed back as Joule struggled to get her life started in the city.

Now they were finally, finally going to meet.

Joule’s tail flicked back and forth in anticipation; even the pain in her feet wasn’t enough to dampen her spirits. She crossed her fingers, hoping at least this one thing could go well. If it did, she would have at least two friends in the city. She didn’t want to think about the alternative.

Joule followed the directions on her phone as it led her further into downtown, skyscrapers rising higher and higher around her. She spotted the sign for the coffee shop they were to meet at. As she got closer, she checked her messages.

mocha: we are in a booth near the window. im wearing pink, and paprika has red hair <3

With that description in mind, Joule instantly spotted them through the glass, her eyes drawn by a flash of pink and orange: the brunette cowgirl with cream-colored fur was definitely Mocha, wearing a pink cropped blazer and a blouse which had clearly been modified to show a tasteful amount of cleavage. Leaning affectionately against her in the booth was a much shorter orange tabby catgirl who must have been Paprika, wearing a loose white tank emblazoned with the phrase 'THIS MACHINE KILLS FASCISTS.' Her tied-back hair was fiery, long and red and fading to blonde at the tips.

Mocha immediately spotted Joule as she entered through the double doors, and raised her hand in a friendly wave accompanied by a warm greeting smile.

Wow, she’s gorgeous, was Joule’s first thought. She waved back and pointed to the front counter, indicating she was getting a drink before she sat down.

***

“Pap, she’s here,” said Mocha, nudging her girlfriend out of the purring reverie she had sunk into. She gestured with her snout towards the catgirl that had just walked inside, and was now ordering a drink at the counter. Mocha watched her as Paprika stirred awake. As usual, the fashion side of her brain took over as she began critiquing Joule’s appearance.

She’s lanky, the cowgirl thought. That uniform isn’t doing her any favors. And her hair could use some work. Still, I suppose she’s cute in an awkward sort of way…

“Oh fuck, she is hot!” Paprika whispered through her teeth as she smiled. Joule was now approaching, steaming drink in hand. “I told you she would be! Look at that coat!”

Mocha had to agree; if the girl had a defining characteristic, it was her lustrous coat. Light gray, with darker stripes running down the back and patterning the face, and a near-white front-coat. Between the stripes, an undercoat of dark orange shone through in places, most prominently on her pink nose and the tips of her dark, wavy hair.

Mocha began to think her initial assessment of the girl had been a tad unfair. Pap’s right, with a little work she could actually be quite—

Mocha’s train of thought was cut short when the cat stubbed her foot on the wet floor sign and, as she was righting herself, slipped with her other foot in a puddle of coffee. Her feet flew upwards, and her head took their place on the floor.

***

Half a dozen people rushed towards Joule as she fell. It was all she could do to yell “Don’t touch me!”

It came out far more harshly than she had intended, but it worked. Her friends, as well as the barista and several other patrons, stopped in their tracks. Paprika knelt down a few feet away, giving her plenty of space. Joule’s hackles were already standing up from the stress, and her short hair was beginning to tingle and stand straight out.

Okay, now just calm down. You can do that. No need to zap anyone. Joule closed her eyes and began the breathing exercises to ground herself, but it was a paltry effort. Oh god, they think I’m stupid. And an asshole. That’s their first image of me in real life, shouting at everyone when they’re just trying to help me… fuck. She could feel the static buzzing around her now, building in a bubble that would shock anyone who entered.

She heard a voice, saying, “Hey, Joule, are you okay? Can we help at all?”

She opened her eyes. It was Paprika who was speaking. “No!” she replied. “I mean, thank you… I just need to calm down. Then it’ll go away.”

“Alright. I’m Paprika, by the way. It’s so cool to finally meet you!” The tabby gestured upward towards the cow, who was now standing at full height nearby. And—the poor, gay little catgirl couldn’t help but notice—her height was full indeed. She must be over six feet tall, and it’s curves all the way down!

“Anyway,” Paprika continued, “we just wanted to mention that we think your coat is gorgeous! Do you groom it yourself?”

In between her rhythmic in- and exhalations, Joule answered, “Ahh… yeah, I guess. I just… do whatever…” She wasn’t sure how to answer that, even if she wasn’t in the midst of a panic attack—it was taboo to ask a cat how she groomed, even from another cat.

“Interesting,” Paprika said, as if Joule had given an actual answer. “I mostly self-groom, but every once in a while Mocha and I like to go to this salon down the street. They specialize in felines, so they really know how to treat a girl. Which reminds me, today’s feeling like a she/her-kind-of-day for me. Remind me what your pronouns are again?”

“Uhm… yeah, thanks for telling me. She/her.”

“Right, I thought so. Hey, you just got off work, right? Is that your uniform?” The tabby gestured at the unflattering gray shirt and slacks.

“Mm hmm. I wouldn’t be wearing this by choice.”

“Ugh, tell me about it. I used to work at that burger chain, Meat Monarch? Their uniforms were the worst against my fur, so uncomfortable. And the colors did not match at all. Know what I’m talking about?”

“Yeah, for sure… I think your coat is very pretty too, by the way.”

“Aww, thanks! I try.”

Mocha brought down one elegant hand to touch Paprika’s shoulder. “Crisis averted, love. Joule, would you like to join us at the booth?”

Joule opened her mouth to say no, I can’t, I might hurt someone, but she stopped. The bubble of static around her, she felt, was dissipating into harmless background noise. She steadied her breathing and began to stand up once more. Paprika offered a paw, which Joule gladly took, and yanked her up into a tight hug.

“It’s so good to see you, friend!” she said. “Welcome to San Orchidia!”

Joule, confused and then relieved, hugged her back. When Paprika finally let her go, Mocha immediately pulled her into another, somehow even tighter, hug. The cow was every bit as strong as she looked, and even lifted Joule off the ground for a moment.

Joule couldn’t keep a smile from her face. My friends! I’ve finally met my friends!

Leaning over, she examined the dark coffee stain on her work pants with a sigh.

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” said Mocha. “Coffee stains usually aren’t permanent. If you want, I could send you some tips on how to clean it.”

“Would you? I think I’m going to need it.”

“Sure thing. But first, take a seat.” She turned to the barista. “Can you please make her another drink? Of course, just add it to my tab.”

Soon after, they were all seated in the booth.

“Sorry about… all that,” Joule said. She tentatively sipped her new coffee, then grimaced at the heat.

Paprika clearly had no such problems; her own drink was steaming hot as she downed a swig like one might a stein of beer. “It’s all good. There isn’t a single demihuman out there who hasn’t let their aura get out of hand before.”

“I know… doesn’t make it any less embarrassing, especially in a room full of humans.”

Both Mocha and Paprika nodded their understanding to that.

“So your aura is electric?” Paprika asked.

Joule sighed. “Yeah. When I get anxious it builds up around me. Other emotions, too, but that’s the big one. Most of the time it’s not much more than a static shock, but it can be dangerous if I don’t keep a handle on it.”

“Mine is similar—things around me start to heat up. I’ve started a few fires in my day. Burn through a lot of clothes, too.” Paprika rubbed the back of her neck.

Joule offered a commiserate expression, eyes locked on Paprika. After staring for just a moment too long, she collected herself and turned to Mocha. “And you?”

Mocha’s calm, collected demeanor up to now cracked just a little, as she tensed at the question. “Mine is empathetic.”

When Mocha didn’t continue, Joule considered for a moment. “So that’s how you knew when it was safe to approach me?”

“Mm hmm. I can generally read emotions pretty well.” Mocha seemed almost sheepish. “Sometimes my own emotions project onto others. I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable.”

“Not at all. Should it?”

With a small smile Mocha said, “absolutely not. I try not to use it, to respect others’ privacy. I’ve had some bad experiences with it, though. Times when I lost control, and accidentally hurt people.”

“Oh… that sounds kind of scary. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Usually I don’t like to talk about it, but since we were all sharing our auras…”

“Want to change the subject?”

“Very much, yes.”

“Okay. Well, I’ve got to say I’m pretty excited to actually have some demi friends! I’ve only ever met two others before you, and they were just my parents.”

“You came from a pretty small town then?”

“Yeah, a little place about two hours east of here. Something like twelve thousand people. All humans.”

“I know what that’s like,” Paprika said. “I used to live a couple states over, waaay out in bum-fuck nowhere. Luckily I had Bruma, though.”

“Bruma's another demi?”

“Yeah! He’s a wolf, my best friend since forever. He lives here in the city too, you’ll probably meet him at some point if you hang out with me long enough.”

“I hope I do!”

Their conversation spun on from there, shifting towards interests, hobbies, and eventually work. Joule launched into a tirade about her own job, shitty customers, her search for housing, and her undying hatred of all landlords. Both Mocha and Paprika jumped in with their own experiences, complaining about their own past jobs and apartments.

At one point during the conversation, Paprika tried to drink her tea only to find that her cup was empty. “Joule, could you do me a huge favor?”

“Want me to get you another?”

“You read my mind! It’s just that I don’t want to make Mocha get up, and your side of the booth is open…”

“Say no more. What was your order?”

“Hot chai latte with extra spice. Thank you so much! Hate to see you leave, love to watch you go!”

Joule stopped at that last line, utter confusion on her face.

“Just ignore her, Joule, she’s a habitual flirt,” said Mocha.

The tabby raised her hands. “Guilty as charged.”

“Oh… uh, okay.” Joule hoped they couldn’t see her blush through her fur as she returned once again to the counter.

She smiled at the barista, and relayed Paprika’s order. As the barista ran her card she made a silent prayer, hoping it would accept the charge.

The card reader beeped its acceptance, and Joule sighed in relief. She left a sizable tip, and moved to the pick-up counter.

As she waited, she glanced across the room to her friends in the booth. They seem to be talking quite a bit, she thought. About me? I hope not…

She caught Paprika’s eye. The tabby made an exaggerated smile and waved at her. Oh no, they’re definitely talking about me!

Anxiety crept over her. She began replaying every second of their conversation in her mind, searching for anything she might have done to make them dislike her. By the time she was carrying Paprika’s drink back to the table, she was certain they hated her guts over half-a-hundred imagined slights.

They stopped talking as she approached. Joule was unable to make eye contact with either of them as she sat down and slid Paprika her chai.

“H-here you go.”

“Thanks! You’re a real one.” She took a sip. No one spoke for several excruciating seconds.

“So, Joule…” said Mocha. “We had an idea while you were up.”

“An idea?”

Mocha and Paprika each grabbed one of her hands. What the…

“How would you like to move in with us?”

>> NEXT CHAPTER

[indigosunsetao3]

Keeping Lines Blurry

Chapter 9 - Under the Overpass

Masterlist of Chapters

Warnings: 18+ - No minors Please read the tags on A03 for any of your triggers

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick X Original FMC 7.1k words - AO3 Link.

When they pulled into the main drive the rain had not relented in the least but that didn’t stop Price from storming to the carriage house as Gaz backed in. Olivia had woken up when they had stopped at a light and was sitting in the backseat blinking a bit confusedly, the alcohol still strong in her veins as she gripped Kyle’s jacket in her lap. Gaz watched her for a second in the rearview mirror before Price came around to the driver’s side door and pulled it open hard and fast enough that it bounced off a support pillar.

“Head inside,” Gaz said quietly to Olivia who was staring at the situation with a look of shock. She didn’t need to be told twice though, she quickly scooted to the door and climbed out, not stopping for her dress or shoes and just opting to run barefoot in the rain to the house. Gaz and Price watched her go in silence, his Captain at least giving him the dignity to not dress him down in front of someone else. But Gaz had a feeling that’s where the niceties were going to end.

“You better have a really good fucking explanation, Sergeant,” Price snapped as he stepped back for Gaz to get out. “Because I’ve spent the better half of my evening trying to keep the peace and I’m tired of not knowing the reason why.” He crossed his arms over his chest and gave Kyle a quick once over, noting that he was shirtless and soaking wet. “If you took this as a chance to get her alone, we have several problems.”

“She called me,” Gaz snapped back as he matched Price’s stance, knowing he was really pushing his limits. “It was my night off. I didn’t miss a check-in, nor desert my post,” he continued and raised an eyebrow. “So, I don’t see why this is a problem.” He knew exactly why it was a problem and Price looked like he was going to explode.

“Don’t be fucking cute,” Price answered. “She’s a job, we don’t get friendly with the jobs,” he snarled before spotting the bright red dress on the seat which was also soaking wet. “Or fuck them,” Price said the last words were laced with heavy accusation and Gaz shifted once on his feet.

“You knew my history with her. Yet you still stuck me on this job. I asked for anything else but you said no. That we had to do stupid fucking rotations. You put me here, I didn’t choose it,” Gaz answered and he knew that the blowup from Price was coming. He was poking for a fight, for a punishment, for something to concentrate his anger on that he had been stewing with after everything Olivia had, and hadn’t, told him. “And I didn’t fuck her,” he tacked on after a second to clarify that. “She snuck away from her friends and security. She called me and I went on my off time to find her, she was in the pouring rain drunk and alone. Then she asked to talk.”

“Watch your tone,” Price answered, his voice leveling into an eerie calm. That was always when people went running or cowed down to him. “Your history should have no impact on the job, you’re a better soldier than that. Or so I thought,” he continued and saw the tick of irritation in Gaz’s jaw at that. “Do you know what this looks like? Her ex sweeping her away into the night with little more than a text saying you found her. Showing up a few hours later with her in your clothes? And you half-naked yourself?”

“I thought you trusted me,” Gaz answered simply. “I know what I am doing,” he continued though really, he was so mixed up in his own thoughts at the moment he had no idea if he truly did. “She wanted to talk about what happened with us, to clear the air and maybe make this easier for everyone,” he looked at the house as a light upstairs flicked on and caught his attention. Olivia’s bathroom judging by the location. “And in her half-drunk state, she told me things that I’m sure she didn’t mean to. She’s terrified of Henry; says he knows people and would make her family disappear. She admitted he hits her and,” he clenched his teeth together for a second, “and then some.” He let the words hang in the air for Price to fill in the blanks.

“It’s not a matter if I trust you,” Price answered. “It matters that we are on a high-profile, high risk, job and you’re letting your feelings get in the way. When you know Alex is working his ass off for information for you, that I’m giving you the freedom to dig,” he paused giving Gaz a chance to interrupt him, and effectively hang himself by a rope even more. Gaz knew better and stayed silent but the look on his face was full of rebuttals that he was biting back.

“You want off this job? Fine,” he gestured to the house, “get packed up. You’ll be on rotation elsewhere. Take some time to get your head back on straight and out of her ass,” he smirked, though it didn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t want to hear any shit from you. You want to be babied; I’ll baby you.” Gaz opened his mouth to fight back and Price held his hand up. “That’s an order Sergeant. You’re taking my spot at the Prime Minister's tonight since you’re the reason I was dragged here. I’ll let Ghost know about the changes. You have ten minutes and don’t fucking wander.”

Gaz shut his mouth at the order but let his displeasure be known as he slammed the SUV door shut and stormed to the house. He all but kicked in the backdoor to find Soap standing there attempting to look like he wasn’t trying to snoop but failing miserably. He gave up the pretense and raised an eyebrow as Gaz snatched up a pile of laundry off the washing machine a few feet away and started wiping down his arms.

“You going to tell me what happened?” Soap asked simply as he walked over and looked out the window to see Price was still in the carriage house on the phone. “I tried to warn you, he’s in a fucking state. All but ran me over on my rounds when he pulled in and demanded to know if I knew where you were.” He saw Gaz give him a questioning look as he moved to kick off his shoes that were squishing with each step. “Heavy rain is messing with the cameras and I couldn’t see shit so I did a walk around,” Soap answered, “would be the time for someone to try something.” He shrugged, “it’s what I would do anyway.”

“Nothing happened,” Gaz lied by omission.

“No?” Soap laughed a bit, “that why she ran in here in nothing but your shirt after you were gone for a few hours?” He raised his hands up a bit in surrender as Gaz turned on him. “I’m just saying what everyone is going to see and know by morning. Henry’s been all in a twist about it, calling Price, calling the security team, demanding we track your phone,” he shook his head. “I’m not going to tell you what to do but every time this woman is involved you get screwed over, are you sure this is what you want to do?”

“I didn’t want to do any of this to fucking start with. I was put here against my choice if everyone remembers,” Gaz answered as he let out a frustrated sigh. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Price is pulling me off, says I’m getting too close. I’ll be working with the Prime Minister and whatever else he decides I need to do for penance,” Gaz explained with a small grumble. “Keep an eye on things here,” he stated, the words heavily implying something else aside from the obvious job. Soap merely nodded and watched Gaz disappear upstairs to change and pack.

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

Henry was returning home from his trip early, which was never a good omen. Olivia had sat in the small library and watched him return with his group of staffers in the late morning two days after her drive with Kyle. The night was still a bit of a blur, some things coming in and out of focus in her memory as she tried to remember it all. One thing she knew for sure was that he had held her in the backseat while she cried, and soothed her to sleep as they just sat in silence listening to the radio and rain. She had laundered Gaz’s shirt herself and deposited it in the bedroom where he had been staying when no one was around. The Captain had returned her dress the day before without a word and Olivia hung it to dry before putting it back in her closet along with her freshly cleaned shoes. She was being careful to try and rid all evidence of the crimes Henry would accuse her of, knowing there was no way around the cameras but she needed to at least try.

She was gripping her teacup tight between her fingers as she watched Henry walk toward the house. His eyes were downcast looking at his phone until the last moment before he stepped inside, his gaze found her with pinpoint precision. There was anger and violent promises behind the gaze and Olivia felt her hands shake, splashing the cold tea on her front before she set the cup down and attempted to take a deep breath. When the maid stepped in to dust a few minutes later Olivia nearly jumped out of her skin thinking it was Henry, her body was wound tight waiting for the inevitable.

He didn’t come to the library though; he didn’t even attempt to seek her out the rest of the day for that matter. He was holed up in his office working and Olivia finally left her sanctuary of the library when the sun started to set, giving the man in the Ghost mask a small polite smile as she passed him in the hall. Kyle hadn’t returned since he left two nights ago and she found she was seeing the man they called Ghost when it should have been his shift. Did he ask to get moved? She thought after their talk they were going to turn a corner and maybe begin repairing the past but maybe Kyle decided against it. He got the confession from her and was just going to close the chapter of his life and move on. That would be better, safer for everyone, but the ache deep in her chest disagreed.

“Liv,” came Henry’s voice as she passed by his office. Shit. She had been avoiding going anywhere near his office or the bedroom. That’s where he liked to dole out his worst, where he could cut the cameras and have no witnesses. “Come in here a moment,” he stated politely but she knew it was a command. She debated just running, just head back down the hall and pretend like she hadn’t heard him but Olivia knew better.

“Coming,” Olivia answered putting a small little smile on her face before turning to face him to see he was leaning in the doorway. He was still in his suit but his tie was undone hanging from his neck and the top few buttons of his shirt were undone. If he had been a normal husband, the one she thought she was marrying, it would have been a sight to see him looking at her like this. But Olivia knew the predatory possessive gaze he was giving her was anything but loving. “How was your trip? You’re home early,” she mused as she walked up to the door and did her best not to flinch away as he grabbed her by the arm and led her inside.

The office was empty, all the staffers gone for the day, and Olivia’s eyes darted up to the camera in the room to find the red light was off. He was already setting the scene and she swallowed once as he shut the door behind them with a snap and she heard the telltale click of the lock being turned. If she had been braver she would have asked him to unlock it again and walked out, but instead, she walked out of his grasp and further into the office. She stopped when she made it to his desk and gazed at the papers scattered all over, her fingers tracing the intricate carvings on the oak. She opened her mouth to ask him something, anything to keep him talking, but he was already behind her with a vice grip on the back of her neck.

“Drop the act,” Henry snapped as he slammed her forward over the desk, barely giving her a chance to catch herself with her hands before she fell face-first on the paperwork. “You know why I am home early,” he continued as he pressed her harder until her hands gave out and slid over the desk knocking things over. He ignored the pained whimpers she gave as he pressed her cheek hard into the wood. “Did you think it was cute Olivia? Did you think yourself amusing to behave that way while I was gone? I was nice, I let you go out with your trashy little friends,” he chuckled a bit, “let you have a girl’s night. But that wasn’t enough, no, you needed more,” he chuckled darkly.

“No, Henry,” Olivia tried, preparing to tell the story she had concocted and recited to herself hundreds of times over the past few days. She had come up with a story of fighting with her friends, that they had dumped her and she had no idea where she was. She didn’t have her security team’s number in her phone but she had Kyle’s because she had all of the task forces numbers in her phone, just like him. “I was lost and I didn’t want to worry you. I called Kyle because I knew he was with his girlfriend, she lives in downtown London and I thought,” she whined as she felt Henry make a grab for her pants. She was hoping using the term girlfriend Henry would realize that Kyle had no interest in her, that he wasn’t a threat.

“You thought what?” Henry asked as his fingers found the button of her pants and flicked them open. “That he’d come to your rescue? He can’t like his girlfriend too much if he ditched her and came looking for you,” he answered as he shoved her down hard again when she attempted to stand up. “If that was true why didn’t you come right home? Surely, he wanted to get back to his,” he paused to wrench her pants down to her knees, “girlfriend.”

“I asked him to take me for a drive,” Olivia said her voice taking a pleading tone as she twisted, “I was feeling sick. I wanted fresh air. That’s it, Henry, I promise. Please let’s talk,” she twisted hard and managed to get out of his grasp for a brief second, which was enough for her to fold down to her knees on the ground and try to scramble out of his grasp. He didn’t let her get far though, his hand shooting out to grab her by the throat this time and raise her up to her feet and then some, so she was on her tiptoes. “Henry, please. I promise, nothing happened,” her words were a bit strained at the grip and she scratched at his still sleeved arm. Bastard knew this would be a fight and was already preemptively covering his bases.

“You have one more chance to tell me the truth Olivia,” Henry answered as he freed the tie from around his neck and wound it around his free hand in a threatening gesture. “So, I would choose your words very carefully,” he let go of her throat with a shove and smirked as Olivia stumbled over the pants at her knees and grabbed onto one of the high-backed chairs.

“I don’t know what you’re asking,” Olivia tried before Henry took a step toward her. “I told you what happened, that’s everything. I swear, please,” she tried begging though that never worked.

“Oh darling,” he said with a small laugh, “you should make sure you have your whole story covered before you make things up.” He twisted the tie between both of his hands now, holding it like he was going to choke her with it. “You went to the dance club he used to take you to and asked him to pick you up. You knew exactly where you were, you weren’t lost,” he was backing her up against the wall. “I followed your phone GPS, I watched the drive. Saw where you stopped and sat for a very long time. Then suddenly you left when I texted you? When you ignored my phone call? And you show up in his shirt?” He tsked, “and him naked from the waist up? It’s not hard to figure it out.”

“No, I swear Henry,” Olivia pleaded, “nothing happened. He didn’t touch me. I was standing in the rain and he gave me his shirt because I was frozen,” she felt the wall hit her back and she darted her eyes around the room for an escape. She didn’t remember sending those messages, that part of her memory a blur when she begged Kyle to come get her. She had been scared to look back at them afraid Henry would see her poking about in her phone and know she was up to something. “It won’t happen again. I won’t go out again. And he’s gone anyway, they moved him to another assignment. He isn’t around anymore and we can go back to how it was before,” she tried as Henry silently grabbed her hands and wrapped the tie around one wrist before the other pulling it so tight she instantly felt her fingers go numb.

“He’s not gone yet,” Henry answered as he grabbed her tied hands and roughly pulled her forward and down, using her imbalance against her so she fell forward into the carpet right on her face. “I’m still working on that part,” he smirked as he shrugged off his jacket tossed it onto a chair, and started work on his button-down. She had twisted to look up at him and moved to try to get up on her elbows but he merely pressed her back down with his still-shoed feet, knowing the heel would dig into her lower back. “It’ll be a shame when the Sergeant’s body is found in the Thames,” he laughed a bit, “all the work you did to keep him safe and you still fucked it up. Maybe I’ll let you go to the funeral,” he started work on his pants, “get a few pictures of you grieving over a soldier killed. It’ll do wonders in the press.”

Olivia felt her blood run cold and she stopped squirming, feeling the fight leave her body as Henry’s words fell heavily on her. Everything she had done to keep him safe, keep her family safe, and she had thrown it all away after a drunk mistake. A stupid drunk mistake because she was so broken and alone, she had sought out an ounce of comfort. Like she tried telling Kyle that night Henry always, won. Always. She had to warn Kyle, warn his team, somehow if it wasn’t already too late. She felt the silent tears fall as Henry finished undressing and she slammed her eyes shut as his hands found her again doing her best to disassociate from the situation and instead come up with a plan.

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Despite the fact that Gaz was actively working it still felt like he had been shunted to the sidelines by Price. He had been given his weekly rotation schedule the night he had left Henry and Olivia’s house and as Price had promised, he was not going back there. He was to rotate between the Prime Minister the Deputy Prime Minister, and some other officials with MI6 and given a few hours of downtime. Gaz knew better than to try and reach out to Olivia but he still dared to ask Soap how things were going, and Soap stated it was all quiet. He wasn’t sure if he liked that answer, quiet was unnerving especially if Henry was as bad as Olivia made him out to be. Then of course the summit was in a week, one week and they still weren’t any closer to finding out who did it.

When Gaz’s phone rang and he saw it was Price he sat up quickly from where he had been lounging on the back patio of the minister’s house. It was a sunny, albeit cold, day and he had taken the opportunity between events to try and soak up the sun. He had some downtime coming to him that night and had arranged to meet Abby for a proper date. Gaz was hoping the distraction would help him not linger and wonder what was going on with Olivia, it was keeping him up every night and he was going mad with questions.

“Sir,” Gaz said into the phone. It was the first time they had spoken in over a week and while Gaz was still not happy, he knew he deserved what Price gave him, worse really.

“We have credible intel,” Price said in way of a hello. “Alex has been tracking it down and the source is legit,” he paused, the sound of footsteps on gravel telling Gaz he was walking to somewhere more private to talk.

“Intel on what, Sir?” Gaz asked as he patted down his jacket to try and find his little notebook and pen he kept in it. When he pulled it out, he stared at the wavy paper where it had obviously been soaked and dried, pushing away the thought that it was Olivia who had caused it when she slept on his jacket in the backseat.

“The Russians who orchestrated the attack in Belarus,” Price answered. “We think they’ve got a safe house here in London. Alex found a log of shipments buried in legal drabble showing items going in and out from one of Henry’s warehouses in unmarked black vans, few of them went there,” he continued.

“Henry? Are you moving on him? What do you need from me?” Gaz asked instantly as he wrote it all down feeling that excitement build in him that he was going to be able to do something. “Olivia was trying to tell me something but she was too afraid, maybe this was it,” he muttered.

“You are going to be pulling doubles,” Price replied, his voice flat as he cut across Gaz’s musings. “Ghost and Soap are going to work the lead,” he explained. “I’ll need you with the ministers taking Ghost’s rotations and I’ll be taking Soap’s. Alex is going to set up shop in MI6 to continue work.”

“Let me work the leads,” Gaz tried as he slumped a bit defeated in his chair. “I’m doing nothing but sitting around all day, going from meeting to meeting all day,” he groused. “I am good at recon, I can blend in a bit better with civilians than Ghost,” he tried to reason.

“You wanted off the Henry patrol, you got what you wanted,” Price answered knowing that it would grind on Gaz’s nerves. He still wasn’t letting him back into the swing of things yet, he needed to learn what happened when he did what he wanted and didn’t listen to his Captain. Gaz had gotten a little too comfortable pushing his boundaries as of late. “Enjoy your time off tonight because you’ll be working around the clock.”

Gaz snarled and shut his phone shut with a click before looking at the time on his watch. It was time to move again and he rose from the chair and headed inside. He would have to let Abby know tonight would be the last time they saw one another for a while. Shooting her a quick text to confirm their dinner he headed to the waiting town car to go to another meeting about who knew what.

He watched the clock slowly creep for the rest of the day, standing at attention at a door or escorting a large group of stuffy suits to and from the car. The unknown number had been silent for days, not answering any questions Gaz threw at them. Still, he checked the phone, opened the messages, and glared at the lack of response for a bit before putting it away. He even found himself looking at the string of messages from Olivia that night and found his fingers hovering over sending her a message before knowing better and closing it out as well. The only people that were actively talking to him were Abby and Soap when he could get away, it seemed Ghost was joining in on the silent treatment from Price. Though that could just be Ghost in general, he wasn’t one for many words. Alex was head down in intel work and since Gaz had nothing new for him, he had nothing new for Gaz.

“See you in the morning,” Gaz called to the team he had been with all day before heading out into the bitter cold. The restaurant was within walking distance to where he was so he opted to just leg it instead of taking the SUV and trying to find parking. He’d just catch a ride with Abby back to her place and taxi back in the morning if needed. Flipping his coat collar up Gaz shoved his hands into his pockets and headed west toward the river, wondering if the twenty-minute walk was worth not dealing with traffic.

As he exited out of the Whitehall Gardens and neared the overpass of the Hungerford Bridge Gaz knew something was off. He had sensed someone had been watching him the second he made it to Horse Guards Ave but he shook the idea off. He didn’t see anyone in his peripherals or in shop windows as he walked and he had even made a fake pitstop at one of the sculptures in the park but no one appeared. It still felt odd though and the minute he got to the underpass he knew for sure someone was watching and following.

He watched as two men appeared from behind a large utility box as if they just melted out of the shadows. They were burly, dressed in all black with baseball caps pulled low over their faces to try and obscure their identity as much as possible. Gaz glanced over his shoulder in time to see three other people appear on the sidewalk the way he had come effectively blocking his retreat. Knowing he only had moments Gaz quickly assessed the area he was in to see what he could use to his advantage, if anything. The one and only light pole had one light out and the other the bulb was barely alive giving off hardly any light. There were no bikes tied to the racks, not that he would expect a bike to last five minutes here with or without a lock. And there was no one around, on foot or in a car to witness what was about to happen.

Gaz could either go for his pistol or his phone, and ever the person not wanting to risk putting civilians in danger Gaz went for the phone. He looked down for just a second and selected who to call before slipping the phone back into his breast pocket as he continued to size up his odds. He hoped they would pick up, that they weren’t busy, and would figure out what was happening just by the sounds coming from Gaz’s side. One of the men didn’t seem to care about possible innocent casualties as he raised a gun while the man beside him let a metal bar of some sort slide down their arm so they could grip it better. Next choice Gaz had to make was who to go for; the gun or the lethal looking pipe. He still didn’t know what the men behind him had yet but he needed to work this down one at a time.

Darting down quickly Gaz pushed hard with his legs to rugby tackle the man with the gun, barely flinching as the guy fired a shot that echoed loudly and ricocheted off the brick. Gaz’s ears were ringing slightly at the closeness of the sound but he still managed to get the guy down on his back. His knees stung as the slacks he wore tore against the concrete but he kept moving, making a grab for the gun. He grabbed the guy’s wrist and slammed it hard against the curb to get him to drop the pistol, once, twice, three times. Gaz felt the pop of the guy’s thick wrist before the pistol fell away into the road and somehow toward the drain but Gaz only had a second to enjoy his small victory as something hard nailed in him the back.

The air was forced out of Gaz’s lungs as he rolled to avoid another hit, he coughed and spluttered as he pushed up onto his hands and knees to get back on his feet. The man with the metal bar took another swing and Gaz quickly stepped back, twisting to avoid the hit but it still caught his arm. It hurt like hell, the shock of the hit vibrating up his arm and making his teeth rattle. The rest of the men had joined them now, having hung back for a moment as gunfire had gone off. Gaz gazed between all of them, looking for his best option to get out of the situation; if there was a way out. Something he learned long ago was to know when you were outnumbered and it was time to fall back.

“Any more coming or is five it?” Gaz asked in a taunt but also as a way to convey information to the person that was hopefully on the other end of the call he made. One of the people laughed for a second as they all just stared at one another waiting for someone to make the first move. Gaz curled his hands into fists and let his eyes dart back and forth, he wasn’t going to attack first because that would make him vulnerable. He would lure them in and then do his best to disarm, disable, and run though he knew the odds of getting out of this one without help were low.

Three seconds of silent watching then all hell broke loose. Gaz felt each hit as they landed on him but he didn’t stop to truly let the pain settle in. He landed hits of his own, kicking out hard enough that he felt someone’s knee snap backward followed by a bellow of pain and a man went down. Bolstered by the fact it was three on one for the time being Gaz continued to scuffle, dodging hits when he could and only grunting for any sign of pain so as to not show these men weakness. He took a cheap shot elbow to the face that sent him sideways, stunning him for a brief second as blood flooded his mouth but that was enough for them to get the upper hand. The man he had knocked to the ground with the gun wrapped his arm around Gaz’s neck and squeezed. When Gaz quickly headbutted backward toward him he hit only hit his chin as they hefted him up.

Gaz tried to shift his legs back to sweep the guys out but the bastard with the metal pipe took a swing that landed right across his knees. The pain exploded in Gaz’s legs and he briefly saw black in his vision as he cried out and scrambled to get his feet back under him. His legs still worked but they fucking hurt. Something was busted in his right knee so even if he got out of this there would be no running. But there was no time to focus on that as the hits just started coming, one right after the other without letting up. They were aiming to incapacitate him now; the fight had been more than they bargained for and they weren’t looking to draw it out any longer. The arm around his neck was getting tighter and Gaz pulled on it with his hands, giving up trying to protect himself because if he couldn’t breathe it didn’t matter.

“Smile for the camera fuckwad,” came a heavy voice in Gaz’s ear as he was wrenched standing again, his legs no longer supporting him properly after seconds, minutes, of being hit and kicked. Someone grabbed his jaw and forcefully turned him somewhere, the left they turned him left he realized. Gaz couldn’t see what he was supposed to be looking at though, his vision was a haze after all the hits and he was sure he had blood in his eyes. “He wants to make sure the Missus gets a good shot,” he laughed before Gaz shook his head to the side to get out of the grip.

“Go to hell,” Gaz muttered, spitting out drool and blood. He knew exactly what the man was saying, who the missus was, and what she was about to be forced to see. Gaz didn’t want that, didn’t need Olivia to live with that thought, which was enough to give him a bit of steam back.

Lifting his arm up he drove his elbow back hard into the man’s diaphragm and the grip loosened around him just slightly. It was just enough for Gaz to grab the man’s thumb and bend it back hard and fast enough it snapped loudly. Gaz stumbled one step before righting himself and turning back to the fight, despite the fact he could barely see or think straight. He wasn’t running out of there, he just needed to keep buying time. Someone was bound to come around, a car, a pedestrian, fuck a little old lady walking her dog. He knew any sort of witness would scare them off and London was always full of people, it was just a matter of time before someone happened upon them.

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“Please not tonight,” Olivia begged as Henry grabbed her by the elbow and bodily dragged her from the library toward his office. She had been on pins and needles since Henry had last had her in the office, trying to figure out what to do. She knew Henry always lived up to his threats and promises but he had been quiet since that night. Not giving her a hint of what he was thinking or going to do, had even been sweet and bought her flowers which had unnerved her even more. “Henry I’m exhausted and frankly still sore,” she tried as she winced as he sat her down in his office chair.

“You’ll want to see this darling,” Henry nearly purred as he walked back to the office door and flicked the lock. “I did it for you,” he smirked as he saw the confusion on her face. He leaned around her in the chair and quickly typed in the password on the laptop there before moving back to stand with his hands on her shoulders. He had pulled up a live video feed and waited for Olivia to figure out what she was looking at.

“What?” She asked leaning forward a bit to try and figure out what this was all about. It was a dimly lit area; a street or tunnel of some sort and she squinted to try and make out where this was. “What is this Henry?” Olivia asked, feeling unease settle over her but she wasn’t sure exactly what for because it was just an empty street.

Henry looked at his phone for a second before smirking and looking up at the laptop again, “just wait a moment. Patience my love,” he was practically oozing smugness and delight and he looked down at Olivia who turned her head to watch him. None too gently he grabbed the back of her head and turned it back to the screen. “You’re going to miss it; I doubt it’ll last very long. Though I’ll keep the recording just for you. For when you need to remember.”

Goosebumps erupted on Olivia’s skin as she looked back at the screen and spotted someone walk into the frame. He was moving quickly with his coat collar turned up but then the man stopped and turned to look behind him and Olivia saw his face. It was grainy footage but she knew Kyle’s face anywhere. She gasped and attempted to turn to look at Henry but he held her head fast. “Henry, what are you doing?” Olivia asked, her hands moving to grip the desk as men closed in around Kyle and he stuffed his cell phone back into his jacket pocket. “Henry stop this,” Olivia said after a moment before the gunshot went off as Gaz tackled one of them. There was no sound on the video but Olivia saw the flash, watched all the men flinch and she screamed.

“Quiet,” Henry instructed as his eyes darted to the office door to make sure no one was nearby and came knocking. “Don’t ruin this for me,” he grinned as he moved around the chair to hover near Olivia’s shoulder, his face pressed close to hers to take in the scene on the laptop but also her face. “I warned you. I told you to leave it alone, but you didn’t listen and now he gets to pay the price. I honestly thought you would have tried to tell him, tried to help him,” he chuckled as Gaz took the hit to the knees and lost his footing. “But self-preservation has always been your downfall. Keep yourself alive and well and fuck everyone else, isn’t that right love? Isn’t that why you chose me? Keep that cushy little life, keep your family from going under, or be exposed for all their illegal dealings? Can’t ruin that family name or let daddy go to jail.”

Olivia was crying, her hands pressed against her mouth as she watched Kyle take hit after hit, unable to outdo the five men who had trapped him. She attempted to close her eyes and look away but Henry shook her and forced her to keep watching, keep seeing Kyle attempt to hold it together as he was beaten mercilessly with fists and weapons. He couldn’t take much more and she whimpered as one of the men yanked his head around to fully face the camera and Henry pressed a few buttons on the keyboard and zoomed in a bit. He looked awful, he was badly battered and there was blood all over his face and mouth. He was dazed but then she saw Kyle say something and he broke free of the hold, deftly getting the man off his back and stumbling to the side before straightening preparing to fight again.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Henry mused as he saw Olivia widen her eyes and sit up straighter watching. Gaz was barely able to stand up straight but Henry would give him the fact that he wasn’t going to go down on his knees, he was a good little soldier. “Ah, there, see?” Henry added with a laugh after a small fight ensued and Gaz took a final hit across the chest with the metal pipe and he fell down winded before taking a kick to the face and falling to the ground limp. “Makes the job easier to look like a mugging. More bruises and all that,” he mused as he quickly sent a message on his phone.

Olivia was leaning over the laptop, her knuckles white as she gripped the wood and silently willed Kyle to get up. He wasn’t moving and she flinched herself as one of the men kicked him over onto his back and started rooting around in his pockets and pulled out what looked to be his phone and wallet, along with a pistol that was tucked into his back waistband. “Get up,” Olivia whispered silently, “please.”

“He had a gun this whole time and never used it?” Henry laughed, actually sounding genuinely amused, “good people are always so noble. He probably would have lived if he took the risk,” he grinned as Olivia quickly jerked in the chair to face him. “Oh. You thought this was just a beatdown? A warning shot of sort?” He smirked as Olivia turned a delicate shade of green and he saw her chest rapidly rise and fall. “I already told you how this was going to end, remember? Come now you remember,” he prodded before gesturing for her to look at the screen again.

Olivia watched as the men smashed Kyle’s phone on the ground and pulled items out of his wallet before throwing it down next to the phone. One of them took the pistol and tucked it into their own pants before two of them bent down and lifted Kyle’s still unconscious form up and started to walk him out of what Olivia figured out was an overpass and down the sidewalk a bit.

“Stop this,” Olivia shrieked as Henry switched cameras to follow where they were moving. London was covered in cameras and Olivia was certain while she could see this now this footage would miraculously disappear overnight or be corrupted. “Stop this,” she tried again, her voice getting even higher as she watched another man come to assist in hefting Kyle’s body up onto the railing. “Please Henry, I’ll do anything. Please!”

“See, you say that but then you just do as you want. I think it’s time you learned from your mistakes. Really understand that there are consequences to your actions. That while you are my wife you will do as I say. If you don’t, then you’ll see what happens when you disobey or disappoint me. Be grateful it was only him this time and not your mother or father,” he grinned as Olivia glanced at him for a moment, taking in the look of fear on her face, before he pushed her cheek to force her to watch what was happening.

It was over in a second. If Olivia had blinked she would have missed it, but she didn’t. She stared horrified as the men pushed Kyle’s limp body over the railing and into the rushing Thames river below.

[jellimac-sims-stories]

The Reluctant Painter

Jellimac

Summary | You find a bag of money and a little black book with a scythe on it. What would you do?

I don’t particularly like my job but at least I have one. My brother is super protective and made me move to the desert across the street from him. I can’t blame him. It’s not like I was doing much with my life bumming around with my friends getting high. His only condition was that I get a job so I took the first job that came my way. The Artist Agency calls my position a “Hungry Artist” which is a fancy way of saying this is a shit job.

Even with this job and the freeish housing things aren’t exactly going my way. Yeah, I'm grateful to have a steady income, to live in the trailer my brother owns, and for the money that he and his wife send me to help keep up with bills. Things keep seeming to go downhill day after day lately. My smoking hot girlfriend broke up with me. Then my dog Shep got sick. And then when my best friend Eden took me out to try to cheer me up I ended up trying to makeout with her. I got a black eye for it. She hasn’t spoken to me since. Things really couldn’t be worse for me right now.

Thankfully the Artist Agency called the other day to hire me to finish up the new mural at the gym in Uptown. I can’t say that I am the best artist but work is work and it will help take my mind off of things for a little while. It's just painting anyway. I took the day job begrudgingly and made my way to head to Uptown. It takes two buses and one train to get to Uptown from Bedrock Strait where I live. That costs me $23 just to get to the job site and back. The agency only has me scheduled for four hours to finalize the mural. I only make $23 an hour. I’m about to make less than $100 for four hours of work. This job fucking sucks.

Unfortunately, the job site was downstairs in the men's locker room. This part of Uptown is elevated over the rest of the city. Think of the sort of place where you’d say ‘I can see my house from here’. That's the type of view I'm talking about. Which I almost can say but my house is just too far off to make out. From up here, you can see from the mountains and out to sea. I’m landlocked in a desert so I like coming here when I can. A creek runs behind my trailer but this is so much nicer. I had been hoping that maybe at least I’d have a good view all day even if it was just some housewives doing yoga badly. Realizing that I had gotten the shit end of the stick I plugged in my earbuds and got to work. 

After a few hours, one guy with bad diarrhea (probably one too many protein shakes) and several smelly dudes later the job was done. It was pretty nice; an optical illusion of the wall broken down showing the earth and the moon from above. Even though I can’t afford the membership at this gym you can see that this mural pulls the space together nicely (no pun intended). I hadn’t taken a break so I decided to spend the last 30 minutes of my time having lunch. I grabbed what I thought was all of my bags of paint supplies (that I would now have to lug back with me since the job was done) and headed outside. 

Finding a bench outside, I chowed down on leftover pizza that my SIL sent to my place last night. I noticed a bag with the painting supplies that didn’t look familiar. It was plain black with a thick gray zipper and felt kind of expensive in my hand. I opened it up expecting that maybe I had picked up someone's gym bag by mistake. To my surprise, it was full of cash! Thick bundled stacks of cash with $1000 markers on the bands. Holy shit! It looked like there was a couple of grand in this bag alone. I’ve never seen this much money ever in my life! I don't even have this much money.

Quickly but trying not to look suspicious, I zipped the bag back up, grabbed all the other bags, and threw what was left of the pizza slice to the pigeons that were hungrily watching me eat. I hurried down to the subway level to catch a train back to Oasis Springs. This time the cost of the tickets and bus fare didn't matter to me that much considering I had a few thousand bucks in one of my bags I was lugging back home. 

I don't usually pay any mind to how long it takes to get around on public transportation. It's almost a full half-hour to reach the outskirts of Oasis Springs to even get anywhere else. That and the fact that I am a habitually late person (something my ex used to complain about) but this time I was buzzing in my seat with anticipation. When the bus finally got to the corner of my street I practically ran all the way home. I headed straight for my shed where I usually keep all of my painting supplies. My dog followed me in as he's keen to do when I arrive home. He's expecting that we will go for a run or a swim in the river like we tend to do every evening but not today. 

After I stowed the supplies away I unzipped the mysterious bag and dumped everything on the ground. Inspecting everything that tumbled out of the bag, I can make out a mix of both new and used stacks of bills all with $1000 marked bands on them. Stacks of $20’s, $100's, and $10's all mixed together. I quickly counted everything out and totaled it up. There was $20,000 in that bag! I've only got like $2,700 to my name and that's only because my brother gave me $1,500 last Christmas. Shit, this is a lot of money.

While I gaped over my luck at finding this bag o’cash I noticed a notebook where I had originally dumped everything out. It's a regular hardcover black notebook except for the scythe debossed on the cover. Opening it, I flipped through the pages. Most are oddly blank until I get to almost the end. In very neat handwriting there are what looks like the details of a contract. It was a few pages long and not written in English. It could possibly be Latin or some other dead language but I could only make out the few words in English; Jack-of-all-Trades, billionaire, beach house, global superstar, and the name Charles Andrei signed at the end. That name sounded familiar, something to do with my ex but I couldn’t put my finger on it. (He's probably some guy she was sleeping with for money so I stopped thinking about it.) There is another signature next to it that I couldn't decipher. The letters kept playing tricks on my eyes. The first time I looked at it I thought it said Hel. The next time I read Ankou, then Thanatos, and finally Magere Hein.  That's not possible , I thought and closed the book. 

Suddenly it was very cold in the shed. The window panes started to frost up and I could see my breath before me. The sun had been setting when I got home but it doesn't get this cold in the desert ever. Shep started barking and growling at something behind me. I hadn't heard the door to the shed open but I had a feeling that I wasn't alone....

Are you scared yet? Read the set on my AO3

[jodilin65]

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 27, 2002 I’m pretty tired today. Two more days of this shit, though this time, I can’t blame it all on the freeloaders, believe it or not. I’d still have to hold my schedule for the appointment I’ve got to get my ear canal cleaned out after I see Scot. Come Saturday, I’m gonna sleep all day!

I really hope Scot gets his ass in and out of here this week, so he doesn’t go waking me up next week.

The knee pain I had for several months has gone away, fortunately. At first I wondered if it was early arthritis, but now I wonder if maybe there were ligaments or tendons I injured (though it seems hard to believe I injured both knees) that got strengthened up by jogging.

Tom’s getting ready to go to work soon and though I haven’t the energy to run, perhaps I’ll at least work out. Maybe do a little singing and get started on my book’s conclusion.

I have stuck to having under 1000 calories for 5 days now and have lost 5 pounds. However, I don’t know why I lost 3 pounds the first day and am the same as I was yesterday at 119 pounds.

Our satellite TV’s back so I was watching some forensics shows last night. I was also watching a documentary discussing home safety. A couple of stories were about poor, poor black welfare bums and all the shit they have to take, but once again, what about us? I’m still waiting for whites who are victimized and discriminated against by minorities to be brought into the spotlight. It’s definitely an issue that needs to be addressed more. You hear about the poor, poor blacks and the sob stories from the Mexicans, but what about us?

One case dealt with this guy living in rural Colorado. For 20 years his neighbors did things like calling him racial slurs and trying to run him over, then they broke into his house. The county sheriff’s department did nothing. The only thing that made me wonder about the black guy’s credibility is why it took him 20 years of supposedly being tormented for him to leave. And why would he put a sign up to have a tag sale if the whole town hated him?

Another one was a single mother who moved into a house in Philly. They were like, hey, we don’t want you here. We don’t want our neighborhood run down, we don’t want the gangs, the drugs, etc. Robins and blue jays don’t mix and neither do we. Just 5 days later, the woman moved.

Why oh why couldn’t this have happened when we got freeloadered?! Why couldn’t the neighborhood terrorize them into moving out in just 5 days?! They only have the upper hand in the courts. Other than that, Arizona’s supposed to be one of the highest states as far as prejudice goes, which is probably why it took so long for this state to acknowledge Martin Luther King Day. If those people who badgered the blacks in Colorado and Philly had done that out here, there’s no way they’d have gotten away with it like they did. As far as I know, though, they didn’t send anything in the mail, making it a felony. See, you can call someone a slur to their face, but God help you if you say so in the mail!

At the same time I’ve met more good people out here, I think the people here are worse in general. They’re a little more selfish and vindictive if you ask me. They’re self-absorbed, in their own little worlds, oblivious to others or whether or not their actions may be affecting others. And when they do take others into consideration, it seems it’s usually to fuck them over. Yet everybody out here believes in God. I’ve never met anyone here who didn’t. Why is it that it’s usually the assholes that believe? Do they think that if they’re faithful and religious it’ll make their evil deeds acceptable?

Yeah, I’d say the younger woman does live in back and so do at least 3 kids. They were out running around earlier. In front, of course. I think we’re the only ones who do things in back of our house and who aren’t outside several times a day. I’d be outside more if we had porches or an Arizona room. I’d definitely be outside more if we had a pool and it was hot. If I still smoked, I’d probably be outside when I wanted a cigarette and that’d be a few times an hour!

I couldn’t hear the kids, though if I’d been outside, I’m sure I’d have heard a squeal here and a squeal there.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 26, 2002 And now I’m 119 pounds. Doing good so far.

The AC people are coming out Thursday so we can lose even more money to things that shouldn’t be breaking so soon till something else breaks, costing us hundreds, or even thousands, in another 3-6 months. And of course, the competency of these people will be hit or miss.

If Scot doesn’t show up this week, then he’ll come next week and wake me up while I’m trying to flip my schedule, all cuz God’s mad at me for tuning them out with my fan. Well, I assure you, I hate him just as much as he hates me. Maybe even more. I’m tired of the way he’s allowed people to fuck me over and run my life. I’ve been tired of it. For the millionth time, what did I ever do to these freeloaders to deserve this? Was I their slave master in a previous life or something?

Oh, how I wish we were fenced in with a gate that locks! I need to lock those cheeks out next week if they don’t come this week. Unless he backs off and gives me a break for a few months, but I don’t know. Coming three times in less than a month and a half makes me think he won’t be backing off anytime soon unless he gets a touch of consideration for Tom, at least, even though Tom’s hours haven’t stabled out yet.

Tom explained to me that old pieces of shit trailers like what’s in back, aren’t equipped with the number of amps newer houses like ours is, so they use propane, rather than all-electric. That’s what that gas truck was that I saw.

Tom was digging trenches earlier to run the pipes into the plants we hope to plant some century, and I could faintly hear music. Just barely. Couldn’t tell where it was coming from, though. I think it was coming from a house and that it was probably either the renters or Dan’s. I just don’t get how so many people can afford to be home all the time.

I’m not sure anymore if the older woman lives back there or not. Maybe the younger one with the kids is the wife of the older guy. Maybe she’s not as young as she looks. About every other time I pass by the kitchen window, I see one, two or even a few people hanging out front. I really don’t like to have to see them, but at least they haven’t been noisy yet. It’ll be interesting to see as it gets hotter if the heat keeps them indoors. It may not. A lot of people don’t seem to mind the heat.

It’s not even March yet and already it’s warming up for the year.

Got a letter from Mary yesterday, who finally ran into Pérez. She said she saw her at Visitation and told her I said hello and that she had a letter from me to give to her and that Pérez thought that was way cool. However, she doesn’t know when they’ll stick her back in M Dorm. Remember, Pérez wasn’t common to M Dorm. I kind of have a feeling she’ll be back in M Dorm soon, though. I hope so! And I hope I get a reply from her, if only just once, but I won’t get my hopes up. What a nice keepsake that’d be, though! Ironically, I recently had a dream where I ran into her somewhere and was glad to finally be able to say the things I wanted to say that I was too excited to think of saying when I left the jail. Then she wrote me a quick note to take with me, telling me I was special to her.

In reality, I know I really was special to her. I really liked her a lot myself, even though we only saw each other 6-8 times.

Mary sent me 4 pictures of her son which I sent back in case she didn’t have copies.

She also sent 8 pages of stuff for me to type up for her.

She asked about my visiting her and I told her it couldn’t be till at least May. Tom’s not sure whether or not there’s some kind of a monthly report that’d get back to Scot, but I’m not worried about it for two reasons. When he asks if I’ve had any police contact, I take that to mean street pigs. Also, when he tells me not to associate with anyone with a record, I assume that means people on the outs who’ve been tried and convicted. Not unsentenced witnesses in jail.

But you know what? He can tell me anything he wants cuz I don’t care. I’ve served this world enough and have catered to other people’s demands way longer than I should have. No one’s going to pick and choose who I associate with. This state doesn’t own me. The bulk of my 36 years has been spent doing what others told me to do, going where others told me to go, saying what others told me to say, and being what others told me to be. Well, no more! The next 36 years belong to me! I decide what to do. I decide where to go. I decide what to be. I decide what to say. I’m nobody’s puppet anymore.

I doubt Scot will find out, but hey - I’m an adult and I have to live my life. There needs to be more in my life than having to do for the freeloaders who tormented and provoked me and my husband for years.

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 24, 2002 What a gorgeous day it is out there. Not too cool, not too warm. I have a lot of windows open now, even when I blasted music, and you know what? I don’t care if the renters heard or not, though I doubt they did.

Yesterday, they had their usual slew of workers and last night at about 12:30, I could hear base. The kind that comes from car stereos. I couldn’t tell where it was coming from, though. Could’ve been the renters. Could’ve been Dan’s. Could’ve been next door for all I know.

Tom got another raise at work and is going to push for even more money. I just wish his hours would settle into something more stable and that the stock would get up high enough so we could finally cash in some stock money and get going with shit around here. It’s already coming up on March, for Christ’s sake!

Two days ago I awoke at 124 pounds. After a certain image of a giant neck came to mind, I decided to really step up the action towards losing weight. I just don’t want to be greeting Teddy Bear with such a fat face (or body), though I’m sure she’d have liked me just the same. So yesterday, the day before, and so far today, I’ve had under 800 calories. I decided to do this rather than starve completely. I lost 3 pounds the first day and awoke yesterday at 121, but today I’m only to 120. And now I’m stuck too, of course. I may drop my calories a little lower till I shit off some of the previous day’s food.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 22, 2002 For a society that bashes homemakers, there certainly seems to be an awful lot of people home during the daytime. People that I doubt work at night. There’s always someone home next door, at Dan’s, in back, etc. There was always someone in the houses we could see from our old house, too.

Every time I look out back, I see something new in front. I can’t tell what it is, though. Kid’s toys? Maybe kids do live there. The only time I saw 2 or 3 kids was on the weekend and I thought they were visiting. There’s a white woman there with hair just past the shoulders, and one with hair nearly as long as mine which is now just above the crack of my ass. I don’t know if they both live there or not. There can’t be more than 2 or 3 adults living there from what I can tell, and as usual, there’s been activity over there. A worker came with a gas truck following it. I was surprised to see a gas truck. I didn’t think anyone out here had gas. They weren’t there long, then a white pickup came to work on whatever. I guess an old beat-up piece of shit like that’s gonna need work a few times a week. I’m just glad I don’t live in one of the rentals. I wouldn’t sleep much better there than I did at the Vista or Crystal Creek. Although I’d prefer to do neither, I’m just glad that I can see them and not hear them, if I’ve got to do one or the other. And I’m so glad they’re white, too!

Later…

Damn! Now there’s a red car and a brown car there, too. I saw some guy, a shorter-haired woman, and 2 little kids. That’s a lot of activity for a white household on a weekday, but I know there’s a connection to the fact that they rent. Renters always tend to have a lot of company, though I don’t know why. If we suddenly started renting, I wouldn’t want lots of company.

Later…

Now all that’s left in back is the worker’s pickup and the van that lives there. The car that lives there has been out all day. I still don’t know if the kids live there or not. Probably not. I don’t see enough of them. It’s so cool not to have to hear a thing. I’d never know any of this activity was going on if I hadn’t seen it, and I know those kids had to be screaming up a storm at some point. Especially when Daddy tried to fly a kite.

The kids are probably about 3 and 1 year old. The parents aren’t much older. Late teens to early twenties. In fact, as young as they are, I’m surprised I didn’t hear any music coming from the car, but once again, we do seem to be color-coded by how noisy we are.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 19, 2002 I’m going to try to maintain a day schedule for the rest of the month. Not just cuz of Scot, but so I can get in the habit of being on days if I’m going to be getting together with Teddy Bear. I’m not expecting Scot this week, but I can never know for sure. He pulls surprises on me at times. I didn’t think I’d see him once a month, then not at all for a few months, then every other week. He could start showing up daily for all I know, but if he did, I’d have to do something about it. I couldn’t and wouldn’t let that go on.

At 8:30, both George and a worker were in back. The water trailer was there for quite a while yesterday too, which was hauled in by one of the workers. That’s another reason I don’t miss living in places you rent. Regardless of how your neighbors are, there’s always something going on. Always some sort of activity or project be it paint jobs, roof repairs, landscaping, etc. In the apartments back east I almost never saw landlords/management, but out here, the landlords/management are at the apartments/houses, nearly as much as the tenants! Even with 3 houses, instead of clusters of buildings, the landlord and workers are there nearly every day.

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 18, 2002 We’ve been totally compensated, so far, for the shit we had to live with in Phoenix. They’re white, quiet and there are only two of them!!! I’m pretty sure it’s just that woman and the partially bald guy that live there. I also think the guy could work third shift. This is the second morning in a row I’ve seen him pull in at just after 7:00, wearing some kind of uniform.

Yesterday Tom and I decorated several light switch faceplates with pictures I printed out. I chose flowers since people or animals would’ve been hard to line up. We simply cut the picture to fit the plate, centered it down on clear contact paper which we wrapped around in back, then we cut an x from corner to corner where the switch goes through and folded the flaps in back. They look awesome.

I’m not looking forward to the pest waking me up next week on account of the freeloaders. Maybe, since he doesn’t seem to be considerate of Tom, he’ll back off if he sees he’s not being let in as much and is wasting his time coming around every other week.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 16, 2002 Boy, aren’t we early birds in back? It’s awfully early to be having company on a Saturday morning. So far, they haven’t been a problem, but between now and Sunday evening, we’ll see. If they’re like most people, they’ll be home during the weekend. I’m surprised I don’t see them sitting out front more often, but there are 3 of them right now. The couple that lives there, and a guy visiting with a navy pickup. They strike me as the druggie type. They’re awfully thin and scruffy looking for their ages, and they look to be in their 40s. Maybe even 50s.

Tom said that while I was asleep when he was out toying with the AC, he heard music, but because it was coming in on a breeze, he couldn’t tell if it was the renters or Dan’s.

Speaking of our current breakage crisis - I was right. Someone will have to be called out for the fucking thing, and that alone will cost hundreds. Anything to keep us from getting ahead financially and with home improvements! We can’t even go 3-6 fucking months without something breaking. All that’s left that hasn’t broken down yet is the dishwasher, washer and dryer.

Also, my shit doll luck lives on. There’s always, always some kind of problem or delay. Well, sure enough, I just happen to be ordering very popular dolls that everyone has to have, so now we’ve got two dolls on backorder. The Sugar Plum Fairy, a musical ballerina, won’t be in till March 15th, but on the 25th of this month, they’ll get another batch of Mei Lin dolls. I love this company, but they really ought to do a better job at keeping their dolls stocked up.

Scot piss-tested me yesterday. Alone, that is. Now all I have to do hope is that he doesn’t ask me to go humiliate and degrade myself for a piss test in Casa Grande and that he quits making such a pest of himself. While Tom was using the bathroom, he asked if he was still working nights, no doubt in regard to coming here. But what does it matter? The selfish, inconsiderate geek’s gonna do what he wants and what’s convenient to him only, and to hell with us. Once again, I don’t understand why I need weekly attention and why my coming to him twice a month isn’t sufficient enough. There’s been absolutely no indication as far as I can tell that he’s attracted to me or sporting any kind of a crush on me, so we’ll see if Tom’s right about someone new in the area going on probation. He’s got 75 fucking clients, though. Don’t at least half of these need much more attention than I ever could?

We do appreciate his telling us to stay away from a certain AC repair company, but as it is, there are so many incompetent people out there, and we’re so hated by God, that I’m sure God will still send us the quacks. If not, he’ll make sure it costs us an astronomical amount of money that we don’t even have. I just worry that no matter what the cost, the damn thing won’t be fixed before it gets hot.

After leaving Scot, which took forever, since I had to guzzle some juice and let it work its way through, then wait for the judge and a screaming couple to finish up their business, we went to Walgreens and the grocery store in Sun Lakes.

I got a few new bottles of chrome nail polish. I love that shiny, metallic look! Now I have silver, jade, aquamarine and pink pearl. I’ll get the gold and the opal the next time.

I also got strawberry lip gloss, musk cologne, a few puzzles, mascara and ridge filler. The ridge filler does help smooth the nails out, believe it or not. I had my doubts at first.

Tom got some veggies to plant, but we both know we’re planting them to attract p-dogs. It’s harder than hell to grow stuff for ourselves because they eat it away before we can get a chance to.

Tom’s been frustrating the hell out of me lately. Trying to communicate with him has been a real pisser. You’d think that after all these years we wouldn’t have so many misunderstandings, but he’s always misunderstanding the things I say and reading shit in that doesn’t even exist. I’ll ask a question, he’ll answer, then I’ll comment further on the subject, then I get, “You asked, and I answered, so don’t get all huffy and puffy with me.”

Meanwhile, there never was a problem. I never denied that I asked him the question, nor was I mad at him.

I have such mixed emotions about this guy. I love him and I couldn’t imagine life without him, yet at the same time I find myself thinking of Teddy Bear and wondering what life with her would be like an awful lot.

Our home improvement goals, which are more like hopeless dreams, are to plant walls of bushes for privacy, porch the 3 doors, put in a pool, resurface the sheds he built, install interior and exterior fences, install ceiling lights/fans in both the den and living room, put shades in the master bath and retreat, replace the bathroom faucets, trim the skylight and build a garage.

It sure would be nice to have a windowless garage. That way, Scot in particular, couldn’t tell if anyone was home. Better yet, I wish we had a fence with a gate we could lock during the days I wanted to sleep.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 2002 I asked Tom why he doesn’t consider me fat now, yet he did the last two times I weighed what I weigh now, which is about 122 pounds.

“Because you’re exercising now, so your appearance is different.”

Not according to the measurements he took it’s not. They’re the same as they were the last couple of times I was big, and exactly what they should be for this weight/height (30” waist, 37” hips, 22” thighs). I don’t think I look different at all. I think I feel different, though. I have more stamina.

I just don’t understand why my weight never changes with all the exercising I do. Even on a 2000-calorie diet and even being this short and this old, shouldn’t my weight drop at least a little? At least to 110-115?

Tom made a nice Valentine’s Day card for me and I made him one, too. I had forgotten all about it until I saw his card waiting for me when I got up.

I’ve been sleeping really weird hours. I fell asleep yesterday at 10:30 AM and woke up at 4:00. I took a Melatonin and fell back asleep till 11:00. Then, incredulously, I fell asleep again from 1:00-4:00! Guess it’s all this freeloader stress and the stress Scot has been putting me through by being more of a pest. I mean, how many times do you need to see somebody over a letter, guilty or not, threatening or not? Anyway, I do sleep better on weekends/holidays and the Fridays that Scot’s in Casa Grande.

At least President’s Day is next Monday, giving me an extra day off from the freeloaders. I’m the opposite of how I was in Phoenix. In Phoenix, I dreaded weekends and holidays, but now I live for them. It’s the only time I know that if I’m asleep and something wakes me up, it won’t be on account of the freeloaders.

So far, no shit from in back. We’re entering the weekend soon, so we’ll see. Last night was the first night they didn’t have their front light on. They have a lot of crap in front. It’s like they’re using their front yard as a storeroom, which is so Arizona. I’ll bet they’ve never even opened their back door once.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 14, 2002 Tomorrow’s Andy’s 40th birthday. And what is your life like today, Mr. M? I should know better than to ask. I’d be awfully surprised if he weren’t in the same situation he was in in 1999 - jobless, high and horny.

Anyway, Tom and I discussed Fat Cheeks and its becoming more of a pest these days. If it sticks to its schedule, it’ll be here between February 25th and March 7th. If it comes knocking again while I’m sleeping, I’m ignoring him. Totally ignoring him. At first I was afraid to do so for fear of him becoming all paranoid that we were trying to hide something in here. Especially if he sees the car and knows Tom’s home. But you know what? It’s our fucking house, I don’t have to let him in, and he can think whatever he wants.

Meanwhile, during the times I’m awake, he gets two shots a month at this house and no more. Meaning, even if I’m awake, if he came three times in the same month, he’s not getting in that last time.

At first I thought about trying to maintain a day schedule again, but nope. I’ve rearranged enough of my life on account of these freeloaders who wake me up more here than they did from just a few feet away. Between the times I’ve been woken up here for them, as well as in jail, I truly believe that something’s punishing me for every time the fan allowed me to sleep through their shit. I was woken up for every person I woke up during my prank phone call days, and now I’m being woken up for every time the fan let me sleep through the freeloaders’ shit.

Tom still thinks that someone new in the area just went on probation and that eventually, the unwanted visits will back off. But there are not that many people in the area to begin with! It just goes to prove how many people in this state wind up on probation. Nonetheless, I should know soon enough if that’s the case or if he’s up to no good. God help him, like I said before, if he fucks with me, and that’s not a threat. That’s a fact.

I was kind of hoping that a little courtesy and a little common sense would back him off for Tom’s sake, now that he knows he’s working nights, but I don’t know. He strikes me as a very selfish and inconsiderate person.

Unless it’s wishful thinking, I still see my Teddy Bear here in May. Just 75 days till I send the letter! I just hope she’s not disappointed in me for not losing weight like I said I would. I just don’t want it bad enough to not eat. I also hope her looks haven’t changed for the worse. Meaning, I hope she hasn’t hacked her hair off or something like that. I hate short hair. A small, microscopic part of me wishes she won’t show up so that I can enjoy food and be as fat as my body wants to be, without having to worry about what she thinks about it, though she’s no skinny mini herself. Also, I’m sick of long hair. I want to cut it to my shoulders, but somehow, I get the feeling that she likes it long like Tom does. But I don’t care about Tom’s opinions as far as my looks go because I’m no longer attracted to Tom sexually or want to get it on with him. Teddy Bear’s the current object of my desire. It’s just that this one, for once and for all, may be a reality. She’s no celebrity I’ll never meet, or some straight, prejudiced snob like Rosemarie was at the Vista.

Today Tom’s going to take apart the AC. Good, we need to know how many hundreds of dollars this shit’s going to cost us, and how much money we’re going to be forced to lose by the Gods that are just dying to see us get ahead in life after how hard we’ve worked and all we’ve been through, on these fences and landscaping that’s never going to happen. At least, it doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen.

Guess now’s a good time to mention “chickenmax” at AOL. I think that email address belongs to the one and only Dureen and Art O. Not that I’d ever want to resume a relationship with them, their daughter or their son, but I found the idea of sharing my story with them rather amusing, and so I have been little by little. I haven’t received any replies to this date, which makes me think all the more that that address is theirs. I had tried different combos, knowing that people usually use things they can relate to, like birds, flags, poodles, etc., until I came up with chickenmax. Chicken was their bird’s name, and Max was the dog’s name.

If it wasn’t them, wouldn’t they have either blocked me out or told me they didn’t know me and asked me who the hell I was?

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2002 Boy, was I one pissed puppy earlier! Before I get into it - I haven’t seen Willie again, but I saw a tall, thin white woman with that dog early one morning. It seems that the two vehicles there are a light-colored car and a light-colored van. No music yet. I figure that if they’re going to be music blasters, this weekend will be when we hear from them. By then they’ll be fairly settled and it’ll be a good time to introduce themselves to the neighborhood, knowing most people will be home. I just can’t believe we got white neighbors!!!

Now, if God would just cleanse our lives of these mother-fucking freeloaders, we’d really have it made, but of course he’d never do any such thing.

Scot woke us both up at 10:00 this morning after I’d crashed just two hours earlier. I was fuming! So furious that it took me a while to fall back asleep after we played the little game of fill out the form, and when I finally did, I slept the longest I’d slept in years. Maybe that was because I took both Melatonin and Benadryl. I expected to sleep till 6-8 PM, yet I slept till midnight.

Of course, Scot acted like he didn’t even know till today that Tom switched to nights, and I was wondering - is he really that stupid that he can’t remember shit? Or does he just not listen to people when they talk? It wasn’t just the fact that he woke us up that pissed us off, it’s the fact that he’s treating me like a common criminal. Aren’t I supposed to have written a threatening letter? Or does he think I’m this violent, dangerous psycho? He came 5 times in the 7 months of ‘01 that I was home for, yet it hasn’t even been a month and a half into ‘02 and he’s already come 3 times. He’s coming every other week now, which means I have to see his fat face every week! Well, I’m sorry, but he just doesn’t need to see me that often even if I’d written the most threatening letter in the world! That’s completely asinine, unnecessary and uncalled for, but what am I supposed to do? Contact the chief probation officer and say, “Hey, you know, one of your officers is getting a bit carried away?” Get a restraining order against the guy?

Every time I have to see him, I’m reminded of the freeloaders and what they’ve done to us. If they had just shut up and left us alone, this never would’ve happened. All this because they just couldn’t shut the fuck up and let us be! Aaaaaaarrrrrrrgggggggghhhhhhh!!!!!!! I want to kill the mother-fuckers! Yes, you fucking black bitch, pigs, and everyone else involved in this fucking bullshit, I just made a threat.

Meanwhile, I’m sure the freeloaders aren’t losing any sleep, time or money. As always, I’m sure God’s doing all he can to protect his precious little freeloaders.

Anyway, I am so, so close to absconding. I can’t just lay back and take this shit for another year and a half! It’s not fair to me and it’s not fair to Tom. Neither of us deserves this abuse. Perhaps Scot isn’t out to literally “abuse” us, but why is he suddenly bugging us here every other week over a fucking letter? Why isn’t seeing him twice a week in town enough? Why can’t he come to the house every few months? Even just once a month would be more appropriate. Well, if he’s up to something by coming around so often all of a sudden, I’ll know it sooner or later, I’d think.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 9, 2002 I don’t think Willie and his dog live back there. I think he was a worker after all, cuz I haven’t seen him or his truck. Haven’t seen a dog or heard barking, either. It seems like the two vehicles that live there are a white car and a white van. I would think that at least two people live there cuz I’d also think that most people by themselves wouldn’t want 3 bedrooms/2 baths. On the other hand, you can’t get much less than that out here.

Woke up at 120 pounds, figuring I’d be stuck like I usually am when I hit 120, but nope.

Received a catalog from the doll company yesterday. Instead of getting Sugar Plum, Donna and another tooth-whitening kit, I’ve decided to get Mei Lin, an $80, 30” oriental doll. We’ll order her on the 15th, then after the post office - or somebody - fucks up, we should have her within 2-3 weeks.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 6, 2002 I’m going to be rather tired for the next 10 days. I have to hold my schedule where it’s at till Monday when I go to get my ear cleaned, then continue on holding it till Friday for the freeloaders. Always for the freeloaders! Again, words cannot express how much anguish and humiliation it brings me to have the bulk of my life revolve around my own perpetrators!!!

I had a funny thought, not that I expect this to ever happen, but wouldn’t it blow Scot’s mind if I reported with Teddy Bear in tow? In uniform, that is. He’d be like - what the hell? That’d throw him for damn sure!

Still working in back. The moving boxes, if that’s what they really are, are still back there, and I’ve seen workers come and go. They were on a ladder in front of the house yesterday and today they’re on the roof.

Amazingly, I had 1000 calories yesterday, I shit, I ran twice for 10 minutes, I worked out for 15 minutes, yet I haven’t shed a pound. Your metabolism is supposed to slow down with age, not stop completely. It just goes to show yet again that exercising doesn’t make you lose weight, fat or inches. It just tones you up and gives you more stamina and endurance. I’m way fitter than I was months ago, and can jog for over 15 minutes now! It’s hard to believe that less than a week ago I couldn’t jog more than 2½ minutes and that less than a month ago, I couldn’t do stationary jogging for more than a minute.

Tom received a whopping $600 from Mom for doing her taxes! I was surprised she’d give him that much. He also got $20 for us to have fun with. The next time I’m in Walgreen I want to get more of that chrome nail polish. Meanwhile, we’re going to get me another whitening kit for my teeth, order Donna for $25 (I’ve still got Sugar Plum coming in March) and get current on the house payments.

I don’t know when the hell the fences and landscaping are going to happen, but someday I guess it will. Sometime this year I hope to get Blossom and Joy, but I won’t count on it.

Mom wanted Mary to call me to tell me that she deleted the pictures she took of me, but like Tom pointed out - what good would that do? The pictures were already taken, and I was already embarrassed and made a fool of. I don’t hate her and it’s not like I’m going to hold it against her forever, but she needs to learn that I mean what I say, unlike most people. A person should never take another person’s picture without their permission, and if they say no, then no means no!

She gave Tom a bag of M&M’s. I managed to control myself from eating more than a few, but that’s another thing that bugs me about Mary and Dave. They live on nothing but crap. Whenever we visit, they want to feed us crap. Good, yummy crap that’s awfully hard to say no to, making maintaining my weight rather hard. I can’t believe these people aren’t over 200 pounds with the way they eat. They eat nothing but McDonald’s, pizza, cake, candy, ice cream, etc. They’re the kind that would rather die than eat fruits or vegetables.

Got both good news and news that could turn out to be either good or bad. It’s too soon to say for sure.

Right now I’m pretty sure it is a worker living back there. When I got up at 1 PM today, there was a white pickup by the side of the house and a white car in front. I saw a guy sitting in front, of course, then he got up, threw a cigarette on the ground, and walked into the house, followed by a large dog. I later got a good enough glimpse of him through the binoculars. He’s white and scruffy-looking. Could end up being as bad as off-brands. He was thin and wiry-looking with long gray, scraggly hair resembling Willie Nelson. The kind that would litter the ground with cigarette butts. The kind you’d find in bars. The kind that may blast music with his buddies while they all get high and drunk. We’ll soon see because now’s the time they’ll start up with the music if they’re into that. Now that they’re settled, we could hear them anytime now. I didn’t see anyone else. No kids, either. It’s hard to believe that just one person could be living there, but Dan lived alone in a 3-bedroom, and in this house, you got just two people in a 4-bedroom that could be a 5-bedroom, depending on how you use the retreat.

Anyway, people who are going to be noisy don’t usually act up till they’re all moved in. It’s an “ok, we’re here, we have arrived” kind of thing.

Also, Willie took off in the pickup at around 4:00. He hadn’t returned by the time it was dark, and if he has since, it’s too dark to tell.

The news that should definitely be good in the long run, like in about a decade, is that they’re going to be building a Basha’s grocery store near the new subdivision. So now the nearest grocery store will be 20 minutes away rather than an hour. The closer stores and subdivisions get to the house, the more money we can make off of this place, which will be a fortune if it keeps growing the way it has, which is just as I predicted it would before we even moved here. This is exactly what I saw in my vision.

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 2002 Now I’m not sure what the hell’s going on in back. Yesterday and the day before I saw a stout, balding man, probably white, though I couldn’t tell for sure, unloading moving boxes. Yet there are always 3-5 vehicles there, most of them being workers. Are they always going to be working on that house? Or is one of the workers themselves moving in?

What’s the point in exercising and watching what I eat just to get stuck for two days and end up right back where I started because of it? Huh? What’s the point? I swear, if it wasn’t for Teddy Bear I wouldn’t be putting myself through this shit cuz I just don’t care anymore. I’m fat and that’s that. I wouldn’t allow myself to gain weight, but I wouldn’t be hopelessly trying to lose it, either. I haven’t been under 120 pounds in months. Obviously, I’m never going to be. Teddy Bear will just have to accept me as I am, fat face and all. Droopy neck and jowls included. I know she would, it’s just that I’d be coming off as quite a liar after saying I was going to lose weight. Hey, I tried, though. I really tried. However, it just can’t be done and I’m through kidding myself and driving myself crazy over the subject. I’m staying between 120-125 and that’s final. It is weird, though, how a person can exercise like I do, watch what they eat, get more fit and firm, yet keep the same weight/measurements. It just goes to prove that exercising doesn’t make a person lose weight or get smaller. I know that the only way I could make good on my word would be to stop eating or come pretty close to it, but I just can’t live like that, and sorry, not even my Teddy Bear’s worth putting myself out like that. I’ll stick to 1400-1600 calories a day, plus one day a week to have around 2000.

Hopefully, my mentioning Tom’s switching to nights to Scot will spark a little consideration in him and he won’t bug us too often, but we’ll see. He doesn’t strike me as the considerate type. I’m just really shocked that he came twice in January. Maybe that’s why he did. Maybe he figured it’d surprise me after he’d been coming less and less.

He is one stupid dude, though. The last time he was here, he commented on how the back door’s way off, and I was like, you mean you’re just now noticing that? Kind of rude, if you ask me, to go to someone’s home uninvited just to pick on it. Whatever happened to the old cliché about not saying anything at all if you don’t have anything nice to say?

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 2, 2002 I finally found a song I’ve been looking for ever since we got the satellite. Maybe that’s because we’re using a new downloader.

Anyway, Tom’s switching to nights, though his hours won’t be set hours. He’ll kind of be working between second and third shifts. It’ll be more money, too.

He can now send me emails from work, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to send any back. I replied the last time and he never got it, so who knows?

It’s been so cold lately! At 5 AM it was 28 degrees the other morning.

Saw Scot and was in and out. Now he wants receipts of all our monthly extortion fees. Yet another thing we gotta do for the freeloaders. It never ends!

We both went to the recycling center this morning, and of course, Gina wasn’t there. But so what if she had been - I’m not meant to work. Not in this life. It really pissed me the fuck off to see all the lazy freeloaders lounging around town when there are so many things they could be doing. Meanwhile, I’m someone who wants to work, yet can’t. But whoever said life was supposed to be fair?

We went to Mary’s today. Right after we got there, she and Dave left to bring Pepper to get groomed. Before I go any further - we may change our minds about Pepper or any other dog. One of the reasons we came out here was to live in a quieter setting. I just don’t know if I want to listen to Pepper bark all the time. Dogs don’t always need a reason to bark, either. They bark just to bark cuz that’s what dogs do, and you can’t teach them not to any more than you can teach a baby not to cry. I didn’t like listening to other people’s dogs, so why would I like to listen to our own? Besides, I have enough expense and responsibility with the rats and mice as it is.

I enjoyed chatting with Mom, who’s learning some basic Spanish at the center. I helped her with her pronunciation. She gave me some really nice puzzles, too.

Then Mary and Dave returned with pizza. Then after we ate, Mary embarrassed the fuck out of me and even pissed me off to the point of never wanting to return to that house again. Her and her fucking camera! I’m sick of her embarrassing me by taking my picture all the time, then displaying it on the TV or printing it out for me. It really, really bothers me, and I’ve told her this before. I don’t need to stare at my big fat neck that seems to get lower and lower each year. I don’t need to see my droopy jowls and fat face. I may not have much in the way of wrinkles, but personally, I think I look hideous and I don’t need it rubbed in my face every time I go over. I don’t mind being short, I don’t mind that I don’t have a big chest (though I’m far from flat), but if I had the money for a facelift, I’d do it in a heartbeat.

I’ve been jogging in motion by running circles in the living room instead of stationary (besides pumping iron). I know I’ll never be thin again any more than I’ll ever be in my twenties again, but it keeps me from maxing out and settling into whatever it is I’d settle in at, be it in the 140s or 150s if I stopped exercising. I’ve also been watching my calories. Meanwhile, I’ll probably be around 120 indefinitely.

The new tenants may’ve been in back today, but I can’t say for sure that any of them were the new tenants. I know George has to have someone picked out to rent the place, though, cuz I doubt he’d have hooked up the power till he had someone to bill it to. When we got in at 4:00, there were 5 vehicles there. A car, a truck, a van, and two trucks that I know were workers. Through the binoculars, I saw a balding man in his 40s and a 3-year-old boy. Both appeared to be white. I still can’t imagine us lucking out and getting whites in there, but I don’t know. Everyone’s gone now. I still say we’re gonna get freeloadered. I mean, why wouldn’t we? We always do.

[moonrisecalamityretreat]

thou'rt poison to my blood || maxime || trial 6.3 || re: jin... IF THAT IS YOUR REAL NAME

In a rare show of kindness(?), Maxime had refrained from being the one to directly mention Jinpachi, even though he felt it was obvious enough. The floodgates are open now, though, so he feels like he really needn't bother any longer.

"...Well, as something of an expert on the subject--"

please for the love of god

"--I suppose I can attempt to provide a timeline more accurate than the one we were provided in the trial. Let me try to recall...

...So, back then, several days prior, the culprit of the murder went to the infirmary and took several vials of strychnine poison. Later, the remainder of the poison was cleared out by Ikko and Sayuri. Those vials were, as I've heard, found in the room that seemed to be inhabited by The Shepherd. ...By the way, if I recall, you were the one who suggested they might be hidden in someone's room, back then, even after we'd found nothing while investigating. How interesting. But, regardless. By Reimi's own account, she went into the infirmary after this point and took sleeping pills, tearing her glove in the process, which ultimately convicted her. She thought the sleeping pills would give Haku a peaceful death, and served him tea. However, it didn't work the way she thought, so according to the footage and her own account she left in a panic. Haku then cleaned Reimi's cup, explaining the one found in the sink then, and came to sit back down.The footage cut out here, then...

This, presumably, is shown by the sequence of events of subjects 11 and 14 dining together, before 14 leaves at 2:50, and then five minutes later Subject 11 is seated in a slightly different location, and at 2:57 Subject 3 is present at the scene. Haku died, if I recall, at 3:01... I'm not sure of the acting time of strychnine, but that is very quickly. That makes it more unclear of when the poisoning itself occurred... I would consider that to be the largest mystery remaining, I suppose. Regardless, the footage came back up showing two cups on the table once again, and Haku deceased. The body was discovered around fifteen minutes after."

He thinks over everything he said, head tilted, and then waves a hand.

"Regardless, there's not much there to prove things one way or another-- however, the accomplice field being corrupted would lead me to assume it was not someone considered a subject, and therefore could very well be The Shepherd, perhaps via providing a path through their room. Subject 3 is undoubtedly listed as the culprit, and you, Jinpachi, are the most likely candidate for that number. You were also the one to accuse Reimi first, if I recall. ...Ah, but proof..."

A hand runs through his hair idly as he thinks back to the previous times he'd spoken to Jinpachi. They'd had some fairly interesting conversations, if he recalled correctly-- even more interesting with the benefit of hindsight. He regards the other with an inscrutable expression.

"...You did mention to me that you feel like everything you do is lies at one point, didn't you?

I am curious about something you just said. That the Shepherd was the one who entered HSH... I must have missed that, though I recall being told something similar later. In that case, they were presumably the volunteer with AEDS, and also must have been operating under one of our names at the time. You, namely, were listed as a volunteer... so I do wonder why, when The Exalted is the one who's part of our group now, the list of names still matches up-- unless someone has taken on the name and appearance of one of them.

...I also find it interesting that you mention you failed to escape your family, when it was mentioned that someone joined via being related to a staff member. But perhaps I've spoken too much already." yeah bitch this post long as fuck. shut up

In a surprising show of mercy, he leaves that point for now and simply watches Jinpachi instead. ...Though, maybe not quite as surprising, given who it's coming from. Family remains a touchy subject.

[amtrak12]

Lucifer Rewatch Liveblog: 1.02

We’re doing it again! And again I am so nervous about it. And also trying to stop myself out of embarrassment -- not the liveblogging part. No, just watching the episode in general. Who are you embarrassed by, Amber? Who’s going to judge you for what you’re watching in your own home? NO ONE! GET OVER YOURSELF!

Anyway. Ep 2. The paparazzi ep, which I only know because I’ve already rewatched it once. But after this, I don’t remember anything about S1 so we’ll get to be surprised together about what plot pops up next. :P

And.... *plays*

All evangelical street preachers are terrible. But I hate this faker just as much as the real ones. I'm on Lucifer's side here. He deserves the Devil face.

It's so cute when Linda thinks this Devil stuff is all a metaphor. Simpler times, right, Linda? ;)

Healed from feelings of humanity -- *Marcia Brady face* Sure, Lucifer.

OMG that was a Crazy Ex-Girlfriend billboard in the background! CRAZY EX-GIRLFRIEND SIGHTING!!! :D :D :D

Chloe is the absolute worst at being sneaky ROTFL

Aw. Give it a year and Maze and Chloe will be roomies :) Tell them that here and they'll both threaten to punch you lol

Lucifer once again completely fails to register that Chloe is playing him. Such a dumb-dumb (affectionately mocking)

(Chloe is just as ridiculous, though, thinking Lucifer would be wearing a bullet proof vest as part of his everyday wear. Granted, I’m sure she’s down to the dregs as far as plausible explanations go for how Lucifer could walk away unharmed after being shot multiple times. But also we saw Chloe get shot while wearing a bullet proof vest in S3 and she still got knocked back and knocked out for several minutes, which, through internet osmosis, I’m fairly certain is realistic with how bullet proof vests work in real life? So are you even still in the dregs, there, Chloe or are you now pulling straws out of your butt just to grasp at them?)

I was curious about who on the force would still call Chloe with a tip, but then I realized it was Dan lol. That makes sense.

Chloe easily follows Lucifer's lead even after telling him no. She only pretends to have self control. :P

*snorts* That look from Dan is 20% annoyed Lucifer is hanging out with Chloe and 80% pissed because he had to listen to Trixie talk for hours the other night about a two minute run-in with Lucifer where she gushed on and on about how awesome Lucifer is. ROTFL

"Is this the fight you want to pick?" -- It'll be nice when Dan gets a new refrain cause repeating himself two eps in a row is both annoying and very 'in case you missed the pilot, here's a quick recap' which is equally annoying.

Hi Amenadiel! (said with Trixie cheer) It will be nice when you get a new refrain too. Which happens sooner than I remembered because I rewatched the finale too last month for fic research and he was pretty much regular Amenadiel already which was... shocking. I could’ve sworn that took longer.

(Speaking of shocking, let me tell you, my first time through the early eps, I was FLOORED to realize Chloe and Dan were only separated in S1. I was under the assumption they were divorced the entire run of the show! I didn’t realize they were still married in the beginning. Fucking wild.)

The hilarious part is God probably isn't saying shit about any of this. This is all Amenadiel thinking he knows what Absentee Dad wants just like Uriel did in S2. (and look where that got Uriel....)

I know it hasn't come up yet, but they really didn't do the praying thing to contact angels after S1, did they? I mean they showed angels answering human prayers (very badly lol) in S5, but never prayers to contact another angel. Probably because Amenadiel and Lucifer had cell phones and no other angels were on earth. But still, I wish they had kept it. I like it.

Ninja chemist by night -- damn this girl is both imaginative and smart. And obsessed with ninjas even before befriending Maze. Excellent. No wonder they became instant besties.

CHLOE YOU ASKED ABOUT THE EIFFEL TOWER WHEN YOUR DAUGHTER WAS IN EARSHOT! THAT'S ON YOU! lmao

This whole conversation with the paparazzo is just Lucifer being all 'I came out to have a good time and I'm honestly feeling so attacked (by pesky human empathy) :(' I like it. Good shit.

Back to ‘just S1 things’, I'm fine with this weird Hell coin being a pilot season one-off though. It doesn't make any kind of world-building sense to me but if it's just for a season, I can roll with it.

'Are you coming or what?' -- :D Let the partnership begin!!!

Man, being a kid in LA must suck being right on top of Hollywood. The gossip mill must be out of control! And the brutal bullying about which parent has the more famous job. Or do the kids in LA bully each other about other things and consciously roll their eyes and shove the Hollywood stuff away because it’s so mundane and boring? I don’t know how school cliques work outside of the small ass Illinois town I grew up in.

How do these people always remember license plate numbers after seeing them for two seconds? Can't relate.

Maze just glaring and slicing an apple in the corner is perfection. Love my girl <3

But Dan, if Chloe isn't following him and you (allegedly *side eyes*) aren't following him, then how do you know the perp is missing? o_O

It's also cute when Lucifer was so convinced humans couldn't change cause he had spent too many eons in Hell where no one managed to stop running from their guilt. They're all so naive and innocent in S1, aren't they? :)

Leverage did this gun showdown better. But Leverage is as close to a perfect show as I've ever seen and this is Lucifer’s second episode ever so that's not really a fair comparison.

'Luci... you should've taken the offer.' -- Amenadiel... you shouldn't bring dead humans back to life so they can kill your brother for you. (See? Two can play the blame game :P)

Trixie already knowing about Hot Tub High School is reason #3 that I accept the fan theory that Trixie has always believed Lucifer is really the Devil. The girl understands things like reality and the truth.

(Trixie already knowing about the movie is also evidence #8 that Chloe and Dan are :S as parents. How does a 7/8 year old have that kind of unfettered access to the internet? What is happening with my niblings' generation??? MONITOR YOUR CHILDREN'S INTERNET SO YOU CAN TEACH THEM HOW TO PROPERLY USE IT! ffs)

No comment on the Jimmy scene. His freakout and Lucifer disappearing and popping back up somewhere else in the blink of an eye only weigh on Chloe's mind enough for her to shoot Lucifer later in the season, but not enough for her to believe he's really the Devil until S4. I’ve also seen it a few too many times in fan vids. Oops!

IT’S OVER! \0/ I’ve successfully liveblogged two whole episodes!! WHOO!! It definitely worked better to let the episode roll and take quick notes on the side that I went back and fleshed out after the episode finished. I’m going to stick with that method of liveblogging.

Catch you in the next one!

[lemonjoonah]

The Garden Thief (M)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Word Count: 9.3K Genre: Hybrid AU, romance/drama/comedy, enemies to lovers Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral sex (fem. rec.), they get down and dirty outside but no one else is there to see them, cum play? (just a little), there’s also a bit of mud (sorry, but also not sorry, they’re outside what do you want from me?!?!), referenced hybrid neglect and oppression (hybrids are wrongfully deemed as pets by law and the majority of society).  

Summary: Your beloved vegetable patch has once again been victimized by a hungry thief in the night. The prime suspect? Jeon Jungkook, your neighbour's rabbit hybrid. But when you finally confront him, he pleads innocent, and proposes a plan to clear his name.

A/N: I wrote this fic’s premise and opening scene for the ‘A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Game’ that I played oh so long ago and now I’ve finally finished the tale!

...

“Oh for fuck’s sake, not again!” You swear upon seeing the leafy green remains of several carrots lying in your garden, inches from where they used to be buried. This maddening mystery of the vanishing vegetables has been playing out all summer. You’ve set out deterrents for every possible garden pest, rolling out chicken wire and spraying natural remedies to repel anything from bugs to small rodents. Yet you still wake to find that your garden has been robbed in the night. The only possible suspect you haven’t been able to protect against resides just next door, in fact—

You squint up at the boarded fence, spotting a pair of long dark ears peeking out over the posts. “Jungkook, is that you?”

The ears immediately disappear, ducking down behind the barrier. The sound of his hurried footsteps trailing away are followed only by the slamming of a door.

You rush into and through your own house carrying the wilted carrot greens. Exiting out the front, and over to the house next to yours, where you repeatedly press the bell.

The entry whips open on the fourth ring to reveal Jungkook. His face is flushed, beads of sweat racing down his brow, and a shirt that one would normally use to cover their chest, is instead thrown over his shoulder. “Something wrong neighbour?” He asks with a carrot stick in hand. Bringing it to his mouth, he taunts you with a bite and crooked grin.

“Is-is your caretaker home?” You stutter trying your best to swallow your nerves. Concentrating hard on his face, you plead with your eyes not to wander down. That’s exactly what he wants, a reason to put you off your mission, to make you so flustered that you have to walk away. He’s always trying to use his allure against you, and you hate how often he succeeds doing just that...  

“No, he’s at work.”

“When will he be back?”

“Not sure, maybe a week, or two? He’s on a business trip.”

Your gaze falters in it’s determination for a brief second as a drop of sweat descends from his neck to his chest. Holding your breath you watch it’s path, tracing the valleys between his muscles. When Jungkook finally wipes it away your brain catches up and scolds you for your weakness. “And he left you here, alone?”  You ask, while trying to recollect your dignity, reminding yourself of how much grief he has put you through.

“Of course.” Jungkook’s smile grows. “I’m not just some common pet. I know how to behave myself.”

The statement makes your brow twitch, enraging you enough to overcome his tactics. “I know you haven’t been here long, but you should know, people typically don’t like it when someone steals from their yard.” You lecture him, waving the carrot tops in front of his face. “So stop treating my garden like your own personal snack bar!”

“Now why would I take from you? I have plenty of food here, even got another delivery this morning.”  The hybrid kicks at a box next him filled with a vibrant collection of fresh produce and grains.

“I don’t know why. I just know it was you.”

“Prove it.” He prods, while taking the last bite of the vegetable from his hand.

The loud crunching gnaws on your composure, stripping you of any patience you may have had for the hybrid. “This all started when you moved in, and I’ve ruled everything else out!” You shout, but as good as it might feel to finally vent your anger, you feel as though you’re somehow playing into his hand.

“That doesn’t seem like very good evidence. It’s circumstantial at best. If you want to find out who the real culprit is you should have a stake out.”

“A stake out?”

“Yeah, you know, watch over the garden for the night, catch the criminal in the act. I could even help if you’d like.”

You scoff at the ridiculous notion. “You really think I should invite you over to guard my crops?”

“I do, so I’ll come over tonight? Say around seven?” You open your mouth to object, but the rabbit hybrid jumps from one statement to the next casually inviting himself into your own home. “Perfect. See you then.”

“I didn’t-no wait, that was sar-” The door closes between you before you can finish. Leaving you baffled and alone on the doorstep. You ready to knock but stop just before your knuckles hit the wood. Trying again right now is a lost cause, it’ll just play into his game. So why waste your breath when you know it’ll just end the same way? Tonight then, as he suggested, that’s when you’ll be ready to hit him with some hard evidence that he won’t be able to refute.

Admitting defeat for now, you retreat back to your garden to pick the surviving vegetables and contemplate the encounter. You wish your could have just spoken to Jungkook’s caretaker—fuck what was his name again? You’ve only seen the man a couple times since they took the house, but at least he doesn't give you a nervous knot in your stomach, or leave you confused and speechless like his hybrid does.

It’s been three months since they moved in. You were excited at first, to have new neighbours in your almost vacant cul-de-sac. Buyers don’t seem to be interested in the old houses with large lots in your area. Too much work to maintain, and not enough good job prospects to go around. So when you saw the sold sign go up you were beyond thrilled. Greeting the new residents with a fruit basket and a smile.

The rabbit hybrid you now know as Jungkook appeared rather shy at first, you did your best to welcome him. Always greeting him when he was outside, trying to engage him in small chat, but the first time you caught him during his workout everything changed. Until that point you had not considered him as anything but a prospective friend. You were stunned to see him in such a confident state, throwing around his weights like they were nothing. In that moment, with you too nervous to admit that you found him attractive, you became the anxious and blubbering fool in his presence, and he, unfortunately, took note. The once quiet and cute rabbit, became a flirtatious and bratty bunny.

And since then, whenever you would work in your garden he’d be on the other side of the fence grunting and panting. Staying close to the gap in the divider, a missing panel you had yet to replace. On days like today you would often look up from your radishes and accidentally lock eyes with the hybrid, drenched in sweat and showing off his skills.

Out of respect and self preservation you tried your best to not to pay attention, to keep your nose buried in your garden, but as the weeks went by the vegetables under your care started to disappear. The ample crops you tended to in the evening, lessened by morning, with only the refuse remaining to indicate it’s former presence. You didn’t want to point fingers immediately, but today was the final straw, and tonight no matter how hard he tries to distract you, you will find him guilty.

After harvesting the choice crops for the day and watering the rest. You dust yourself off, settling inside and in front of your computer; opening the visitors page for your place of work, the city's greenhouse conservatory. To help promote the centre in the community the staff all take turns writing articles revolving around their own projects or home gardens, and you’re up next in the rotation. You stare at the blank document for several minutes trying your best to concentrate on the task, but you are unable to think of anything other than the mischievous hybrid next door.

Embracing the topic of your aggravation, you start the post off with a title sure to catch the eye of any reader, ‘Garden Thieves.’

‘We’ve all been there, finding a tomato just about to reach its peak ripeness. We give it another day to grow into perfection, only to find it missing later on. In your absence something else has taken it into its own clutches. I myself have been dealing with a vegetable thief for several weeks, so if you are struggling like I am, here are a few things that might help. ’

You proceed to outline several garden pests uploading photos of their damage, along with quick remedies to deter their presence. Netting to block the sparrows, raised beds and fences to keep out most rodents or mammals, and a caffeine solution to stave off slugs.

‘I hope this may help you all in your efforts to keep your plants safe, but I must add a disclaimer. Unfortunately nothing here is completely foolproof. Even if you do follow all of these steps you still might lose some of your crops to a crafty critter. But I wish you the best of luck on all of your backyard battles. I myself plan to face off with my own long-eared menace tonight.’

You finish your post with a smile. Sending it off to your coworker Namjoon to get his approval before you make it public.

He calls a few minutes later, his laughter carrying through the speaker. “That was easily the best article you’ve written all year. You should definitely post it.”

“Thanks.” You chuckle, hitting the submit button. At the very least feeling a bit relieved to have one less task weighing on your mind. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. I take it you’re still having trouble with that hybrid neighbour of yours?”

“Yeah,” you groan. You’ve complained to Namjoon about the issue several times in the past month. It must have been all too easy for him to read between the lines and see what set you off to create this specific entry.  “But he refuses to admit it was him. It’s like he’s trying to make me question my skills as a gardener and I hate it! I went over to talk to his caretaker but he’s away on business for a couple weeks.”

“He left him alone for that long? What about food?”

“He’s been getting deliveries. By the looks of it, he has a healthier diet than I do.”

Namjoon pauses on the line giving you only a simple, “Huh...” in a long break.

“What?”

“Well it’s just-” A loud buzzing sound erupts through the phone line cutting off his answer. A noise you know to indicate someone is at the back door. “That’s weird. I didn’t think we were supposed to get anything delivered today. No one else is here.... did you have anything scheduled to come in?”

“No.” You double check the calendar sitting on your desk. “I shouldn’t have anything until next Monday.”  

Namjoon puts you on hold while he checks on the reason for the interruption, returning only a minute later. “It’s a delivery all right, but are you sure these aren’t yours? I’m seeing a lot of tropical species on the invoice. Combretum rotundifolium, Heliconia angusta, Myrciaria dubia-”

You mouth a swear as Namjoon carries on with his list. It’s obvious they are indeed the specimens of your expected batch. You're in the process of redesigning one of the tropical habitats. The lead director was adamant that the conservatory host a butterfly exhibition in the next coming year, and in order to support the grandiose endeavour you are required to introduce a vast amount of new flowering species over the next few months. “How many in total?”

“About two dozen. Looking pretty rough from the journey too.”

You’re not surprised by their current state. This summer is already one of the hottest and driest on record, and all the stock you had received this season was excessively wilted and near death because of it. “Do we have any holding houses with humidifiers available?”

“Not at the moment,” There’s a clatter in the background as Namjoon sorts through what must be the slack of clipboards. “But I’ve got the inspection chart here and your last delivery did just finish it’s quarantine. No signs of pests or illness, so they’re clear to plant. That should free up some space for you.”

“That’ll have to do. Thanks for checking.” Standing up from your desk with a sorrowful sigh. You mourn the loss or your afternoon off as you start to dress for a day of hard labour. Throwing on your work-issued overalls over your t-shirt and shorts. Unfortunately you can’t just leave the new stock to sit out under the beating sun. With little humidity outside and no protection they’ll be burnt to a crisp if you delay too long. But the worst part is that your planting staff isn’t scheduled until later in the week, and that volume of work will put you well into the middle of the night before you complete it. “I’ll be in soon to deal with it.”

“That’s a lot of planting to do on your own. I can help if you-”

“I can’t take you away from your trees, isn’t there a bonsai exhibition next week you have to prepare them for?” He’s been agonizing over this showcase for so long you couldn’t possibly inconvenience him now with your own troubles. “It’s fine, really. I’ll call to see if anyone else is willing to come in today.” You hang up letting Namjoon return to his tasks, and work your way down the contacts for the gardening staff as you prepare yourself to leave. Though as expected, all of those who answer have prior commitments and won’t be able to assist.

Grabbing your badge and plans for the updates to the garden you slip back out into the noon-day sun, so strong it’s turned your car into an oven on wheels. You’re just about to pull it into reverse when you spot the blinds shift in your neighbour’s window. Prompting you to recall the plans he had made for tonight.

With all the work you have, it’s doubtful you’ll be back home for seven. You return to Jungkook’s door to give him the news. He has it open before you can even knock, his usual smirk crawling across his face as he greets you.  

“About tonight... something has come up at work and I really don’t know how late I’ll be.”

His ears perk up. “You’re going into the conservatory?”

“Yeah,” you respond, somewhat shocked that he remembered where you work. It’s been a couple months since you mentioned it while introducing yourself to him and his caretaker. “An order came in earlier than expected. I’ll likely be planting all day and night.”

“I can help,” he offers, already stepping out to join you, and locking the door behind him.

“You want to help?”

“Of course, isn’t that the neighbourly thing to do?”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t want it or expect it from someone who terrorizes my own garden.”

“Allegedly,” Jungkook corrects. “And wouldn’t you rather have me with you, under your supervision, than here, all alone with only a measly fence between me and your impressive bell pepper harvest?”

“Stay away from my peppers!” You scold, pointing your finger at him. “Even if I wanted to take you, what about your caretaker? Don’t you need his permission to leave and work?”

“He’s never paid attention to my whereabouts before, and it’s not work if you don’t pay me. I’ll just be a volunteer. You have people volunteer all the time right?”

“Yes but-”  

“I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

“Alright, fine.” You finally agree though with a heavy dose of reluctance. Namjoon often brings his own hybrid in so it shouldn’t be a problem. “But if I see you nibble on even a single leaf, you’re coming straight back here.”

“Deal.” He rushes past you straight to your passenger seat and buckles himself in. Practically bouncing with excitement beside you as you pull out and head towards the conservatory.

The minutes pass and you try your best to focus on the road but you’ve never been so close to Jungkook in such a small space. And with his built frame taking up most of the car, he’s hard for you to ignore. His ears folded against the roof and his shoulders so wide they brush repeatedly against yours.

“Ever been to the conservatory before?” You ask, trying to divert your mind from the battle which builds inside you. A wavering war between frustration and attraction, with the former trying it’s best to pin down the latter, a move which only arouses the latter more...

“No, I’ve wanted to go ever since you mentioned it but my caretaker hasn’t had the time.”

“Oh.” A sense of pity joins the ranks of your emotions, nudging at you as you pull into the lot. “Sorry, I didn’t-”

“Why are you sorry?” Jungkook asks in a low whisper, snapping back to his flirtatious behaviours. His mouth turns up at the corner as he leans into you, so close that his drooping ears graze the top of your head.  “Would you have taken me earlier if I had mentioned it?”

“N-no,” you choke out. Placing your hand on his solid chest, you push him back and away. As tempting as his advance might be to accept, you know his forwardness to be nothing more than an act to make a fool of you. Why else would he try to both seduce you, and steal from right under your nose?  “You’re only here today because I am in desperate need of help, and I can’t trust you to be alone.”

...

You lead him through the unoccupied greenhouses. The conservation is closed to the public today (as it is every Monday and Tuesday); which usually allows for some time off, but at least now it’ll give you a chance to work unimpeded by visitors. Your own curated section is located in the most humid of all the houses, set in such a way to mimic the tropical environment you are attempting to represent.

The first stop is the holding house where the carts of new stock wait just outside.  Grabbing an empty trolly you enter and start to load up those that are ready to plant. Jungkook following your actions does the same, easily lifting the heavy planters that you yourself struggle with. “Thanks,” you whisper as he relieves you of a particularly burdensome tree. To which he smiles in return.

After making the switch, by placing the recent delivery in the house for it’s quarantine, you lead him to the supply closet. Where you collect a couple shovels, trowels, and two pairs of gloves. As you continue to scan for anything else you might require, Jungkook pops in behind looking at the shelves with a sense of curiosity. He reaches up and over you to a spray bottle labeled ‘slug repellent.’

“We won’t need that, it’s for the outdoor gardens,” You explain. “It’s just a mixture of ca-”

“Caffeine and water?”

You snap your gaze to him. “How do you know that?”

He bites his lip as a snicker starts to escape. “Just a bit of morning reading. I found an interesting article with that particular tidbit. One which also happened to reference the exploits of a long-eared menace.”

“Y-you read the conservatory blog? You read my post? No one reads that, there can’t have been more than ten views!”

“Which is such a shame.” He goads you. “I’ve found your work to be both informative and comical. You really have me rooting for you in your quest to catch your thief.”

You groan in utter fury. “Why must you be so-so-”

“Handsome? Funny? Caring?”

“Antagonizing!”

“Because you seem to take more notice when I am.” Jungkook answers, with a turn of his heel, his tail poking out from under his shirt as he starts to walk away with the cart. “And I like seeing that perplexed look of yours. Your nose is cute when you scrunch it up like that.”

You remain in the shed, your traitorous heart beating erratically over the fact that he called a part of you cute. While your more sensible side grabs your nose and smooths out the wrinkles he referenced.

“Should we get to work?” He calls out after you. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go home and expose that bandit of yours.”

You roll your eyes and follow him out, before taking the lead to your tropical glasshouse. The air sticks to your skin the moment you enter. Jungkook lets out a long exhale behind you tugging on the collar of his shirt. “Is it always like this in here?”

“It’s a bit warmer today, but not by much. Are you already regretting your decision to help?” You tease him.

“Nope,” he answers, slinging a shovel over his shoulder. “Show me where to dig, and I’ll get to it.”

Pulling out your plans for the new exhibit arrangement, you select a couple species placing them on the empty plots of garden as directed, careful to allow for future growth. Jungkook follows behind digging out their new homes faster than at least three of your staff members combined.

You stare at him for a second, unable to believe the pace at which he’s going. “Something wrong?” He asks, pausing to lock eyes with you.

“No, I just didn’t think you’d be so quick at digging.”

“I’m part rabbit, what did you expect?” Jungkook boasts with a chuckle and a raised brow. “I share their strengths. Especially when it comes to burrowing and fu-”      

His words are cut short when a fresh breeze from the outside washes over the both of you, a  sure sign that someone must have entered the greenhouse. Your neighbour goes rigid, his nose lifts into the air and his ears fall back flat against his head. “Jungkook what’s-” Leaping up he closes the gap and grabs you. Tucking you into him with his chin resting on your head, where a  warm and earthy scent envelopes you.  His breaths are quick and deep, causing his chest to rapidly rise and fall against your back.

Namjoon’s voice calls out to you. “... are you in here?”

“Over here!” You yell out in reply, before turning back to the hybrid who still has you locked in his clutches. “What the hell Jungkook? Let me go! Now’s not the time for your games.” Sure it might feel nice to be wrapped in his arms, to get lost amidst his aroma. At any other time you might even consider taking a moment before chastising his boldness. But here? Now? And with Namjoon coming to greet you? No, this is too much.

You try to push him away like you have before, but this time it’s as if he’s set in stone, and not registering you at all. He focuses only on the direction your coworker's voice hailed from. “That scent, he smells like-”

“There you are.” Namjoon interrupts stepping around a flowering bush and into view, looking surprised by your guest. “Oh, hello there.”

The point of Jungkook's chin rubs against your head as he grips you even tighter. Embarrassed and confused by the hybrids embrace. “Jungkook, this is Namjoon.” You introduce your coworker while delivering an elbow to Jungkook’s gut. He finally snaps out of his trace and lets you go though he continues to hover behind. “He works with the bonsai of the conservatory.”

“You must be the neighbour I’ve heard so much about, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Namjoon extends his hand to the hybrid, but Jungkook ignores the gesture, choosing to glare instead, with his nostrils flared and his ears pinned back.

“Jungkook?” You whisper trying to chase him from his mood.

Namjoon gives him a nervous smile. “You probably smell my hybrid, on me don’t you?”

“A hybrid?” Jungkook confirms, his eyes narrowed at Namjoon.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t intend to scare you. I’m sure the scent of a predator, especially a tiger, is a bit of a shock. He’s harmless, I promise.”

“Is Taehyung here?” You ask, hoping to see his affectionate part-feline companion.  

“Nah, he’s with a friend today. I needed to get some work done and he’d be more of a distraction than a help... but it would seem that didn’t stop him from scenting my shirt before I left.” Namjoon explains, and then turns to your neighbour again. “Jungkook would you mind if I borrow her for a second? I need help with one of my tropical species.”

Jungkook gives a solemn nod. For the first time since you’ve known him, he looks frightened, and somewhat hesitant to release you over to your coworker.

Worried by his current disposition, you reassure him with a squeeze on his arm. “Just keep digging where I’ve placed those pots and I’ll be right back.”

Namjoon leads you into the adjacent greenhouse where you can continue to keep watch of Jungkook through the pains of glass. But the instant the doors close between you, Namjoon starts bombarding you with questions. “Why didn’t you tell me? How long has it been going on? ”

You take a step back having been caught off guard. “Tell you what?”

“About you and Jungkook! Is the feuding neighbours just a cover story?” Namjoon’s eyes are wide and hopeful as he carries on, not letting you fit a single word in. “Don’t worry, I won’t inform anyone you're together. I know it’s not easy having a human-hybrid relationship out in the open. But I think you should be careful about going out into public because he’s far too obvious about it.”

“We’re not- we’re not a couple. Why would you think such a thing?”

“Because the way held you, he looked like he was marking you with his own scent. That’s what rabbits do isn’t it? They rub their chins on what they want to claim as their own.”

“They do what?” You ask, stunned by the possibility, before the realism settles back in. It must just be Jungkook’s idea of a joke. “No, that’s not what he’s doing, our connection is nothing remotely like that. Don’t get me wrong he’s very attractive, and he knows it.” You mutter the last part under your breath. “But-”

“But you really are having trouble with him. It's not a cover?”

“You think I would keep something like that from you?” Namjoon over the years has come to be your closest confidant. A good friend and coworker, you would never dream of hiding something like that from him.

“I suppose not.”

“Is that why you brought me back here, to question my relationship status?”

“Not entirely.” Namjoon shakes his head with a small dimpled smile and changes the subject. “I do actually want to get your help with one of my new acquisitions.” He points out an unusual tree on his work bench, much too big for the pot it’s currently situated in. It’s extensive roots spill out over the top and threaten to swallow the pot whole. “A Ficus microcarpa, far from the most sought after species when it comes to reputable bonsai, but I couldn’t pass this one up. It has such good character.”

“What made it grow in such a way?” You examine the plant and it’s container with care, prying between the roots and taking note of cracks starting to form in the terracotta.

“The last owner neglected it for far too long. It sat hidden in the back of a commercial greenhouse, still under the watering and fertilizing system, but since it was confined to such a small space it tried to root it’s way out. If I were to guess, it probably hasn’t seen a new pot for at least five years.”

“It’s a miracle it survived.” You nod impressed by the tree’s determination. “What’s your plan for it?”

“Give it what it wants, let it leach out. I doubt I would be able to pry it out entirely without causing significant damage to the roots that are gripping the sides, so instead I want to put another bellow to catch it and give it the fresh soil and room it needs.” Namjoon lays the tree and pot down on the table, and asks you to hold and support the trunk, while he taps and pokes at the bottom of the vessel with a metal trowel.  Enlarging the cracks, but not breaking the pot fully. It’s a tedious process. The small chunks of clay are removed piece by piece, giving him access to see and free some of the tightly bound roots inside.

While your coworker continues his task, your eyes are free to wonder. You check on Jungkook through the glass, as he kneels in front of the garden bed digging even faster than before.

Namjoon appears to notice your distracted state. “How's he doing?”

“Fine I guess.” You whisper. “He’s acting stranger than usual today though. He stole from my garden again. Invited himself over to my house, then here, and you saw what he did back there.”

“Huh...” Namjoon mutters, trailing off the same way he did on the phone.

“What is this ‘huh’ you keep giving me? You know I don’t like games Namjoon. If you have something you want to say, say it.”

“It’s about what you said earlier, how his caretaker leaves for extended periods of time. Usually if an animal is alone for too long they look for ways to stimulate themselves and resort to their natural instincts, scavenging and such. But he’s a hybrid and therefore part human, so if you were isolated and restricted to your house what would you do?”

“Probably look for the closest person I could find. So he’s acting out in my garden and teasing me, because he’s lonely?”

“I think so.” Namjoon responds as he extracts another root, freeing it from its confines.

“But why?” You ask, worried for the answer to come. “Why wouldn’t he just say something?”

“There could be a number of reasons. He might not understand what he’s doing on a conscious level, or he might be afraid to show any sign of weakness to you or anyone else. Jungkook is part prey animal, and humans are all too often predators.”

“If that’s the case...” You curse yourself for not realizing it sooner. The fury you held for him slowly fades away as you replay every encounter in your mind. He was literally jumping at the chance to spend time with you, to help you with your work, and you were to blind to see it. Your anger over your missing vegetables is so trivial in comparison to what he must have been going through. The loneliness he must have felt, and the inability to admit it, you can’t imagine how he suffered through it alone. “What can I do to help him? I have no legal claim to him Namjoon. What can I do within such limitations?”

He looks down at his work in progress. “The way I see it  you and he, like this small tree, have three options. You could maintain the status quo, leave him be, but how long will he be able to survive like he is? Creeping over the edge but grasping on to nothingness?”

You shake your head vehemently rejecting the idea while Namjoon continues.

“You could report his caretaker for neglect, breaking the container entirely, but that too could be very damaging to him, tearing him away entirely could put him in a state of shock, and in a home that is no better for him, while the legal battle is decided. Or...” Namjoon grabs another container, slightly wider than the one in which the plant is seated. Filling it with substrate he takes the tree clinging to it’s partial pot and places it on top. Pressing the newly freed roots down into the soil.

“You could support him, give him a better home just outside of his own where he can be himself and access what he needs. I personally think it’s your safest option for now.” Namjoon leads over inspecting the bonsai and lowers his voice to an almost inaudible whisper. “Until the day, when it is possible to fully cast the pot aside.”

You nod, though now left to grapple with what you could possibly have to offer the hybrid.  “I’m not sure I would be the best person to care for him.”

“I think Jungkook would disagree. He was already trying to scent you. That to me, implies his desire for something more in the realm of an intimate relationship.” You choke on your breath as Namjoon comes to an additional conclusion. Upon seeing your distress he makes a suggestion. “Of course you could keep it strictly to friendship between the two of you and I’m sure that will improve his situation, but his other needs will need to be met for him to feel completely at home...”

“His other needs? You think he wants to be with me? Intimately?! No! Surely he would have acted differently if that was his intent! He’s done nothing but tease me when he catches me even remotely looking in his direction.”

“So you have been looking at him!” Namjoon taunts you with a massive grin. Apologizing a second later when you proceed to glare at him. “But to answer your question, no, not necessarily. You have to remember most of society deems him a lesser being. He could be feeling a lot of guilt and pressure not to engage with you in that way. Though he might not outright say it, I bet his instincts will continue to shine through. I’ll even prove it to you.” Namjoon takes off a glove and rubs your head. “I bet this rabbit of yours will take less than a minute before he tries to replace the smell of my hand with his own again... trust me.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “I should probably get back to him.” You are just about to step away when your thoughts return to the long neglected plant. “Where do you plan to house that when you’re finished? Ficuses naturally belong in a more tropical location don’t they?”

“They do, especially if I want to give it a better chance. It’s going to need a place far more humid than this space.”

“Was this all your calculated way of guilting me to store it in my greenhouse too?”

“The thought might have crossed my mind.” Namjoon gives you a sly grin.  “But my logic is still sound in regards to Jungkook. He needs someone, he needs a better home... and it would seem he’s chosen you.”

...

You wander back to your greenhouse, still full of doubt. Finding Jungkook to have finished most of the required digging.

“Sorry for leaving you.”

“You-you okay?” He asks, upon seeing the dazed look on your face and then scowling in the direction that Namjoon led you.

“Fine, he just needed help with one of his plants. Sorry about earlier, I didn’t think you’d be affected by the scent of his hybrid, Taehyung is rather sweet though, you’d like him.”

“You trust him then?” Jungkook grumbles as he pierces his shovel into the ground. “You trust Namjoon and his hybrid?”

“Of course, why shouldn’t I?”

“Because it wasn’t just a tiger that I smelled. He’s been around a lot of hybrids. Every scent on him told me to run, all of them put there by dangerous predators.”

“Oh,” you shoot back in surprise. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Taehyung is rather popular, he has a lot of friends and Namjoon often caters them at his place. You don’t need to worry, you're safe here.”

“It’s not myself I’m worried about.”

Jungkook inches closer as you crouch to place the plants in the holes he dug. His nose twitches as he takes a deep breath, his eyes watching while you bury the root ball in the warm soil, firmly securing the trunk of the young tree.

While you are leaning down, Jungkook reaches across to the other side of you. Grabbing the trowel to your right despite the fact that the same tool can be found on his left. The bottom of his chin grazes the top of your head and lingers for a spell. Your heart stops in that moment while questioning his motives. Though Namjoon said he’d do just this, you still can’t be entirely sure that it proves him correct; Jungkook might just not have seen the other option available to him, and he’s never bothered about invading your space. This could be nothing, though there’s a small growing part of you that wants it more and more to be something.

“He’s a good guy,” you promise, returning to the conversation so as to not dwell on his actions. “He even suggested that I should bring you along more often, if you’re interested in spending some of your days here.”

“He did?”

You nod.  A small white lie, but not entirely incorrect, and if it gets him to accept Namjoon easier you’ll all be better for it. “I wouldn’t expect you to work, but you're more than welcome to just hang around. The staff here could always use some company and I’m sure it would beat staying at home alone all day.”

“I would like that. I would like that a lot, but would you want me to keep you company too?”

“If that’s what you want to do.”

“No, I need to know if that’s what you want.” He looks over to you pinning you down in his line of sight.  

“I suppose I would....” You answer and turn your head, unable to bear the nerves that his gaze brings. The both of you fall quiet. Knowing what you know now, being free of your anger for him leaves you vulnerable, open to his persuasion, and now you are no longer certain of how to act. So you start to rely on what has made him comfortable in the past, and interject with a new condition to bring an end to the awkward silence. “As long as you treat this garden better than mine back home.”

Jungkook lets out a long laugh. “I have nothing but the highest respect for your garden.”

...

When planting is finished your clothes are entirely saturated in sweat and your muscles aching from use. It’s hard to believe how much you’ve both done in such a short amount of time. While carting up the supplies, Jungkook’s eyes catch on something behind you. You look around spotting the newly potted bonsai on a back table. Namjoon must have dropped it off while you both were busy.

Looking at it now you can’t help but notice how even the shape of its leaves remind you of the hybrid’s ears, long, pointed, and reaching up to the sky. You consider your friend's words one more time and while Jungkook leans over to inspect the tree. Reaching out to his back, your hand shakes with hesitation before setting down on a spot just below his shoulder. He softens under your touch, a low hum leaving his lips. His attention turns from the plant to you. With your hand still in place, your arm is now wrapped around him, leaving only an inch between the two of you. You stand there fixed and unmoving, but content in the knowledge, that you seem to have left him speechless this time. His eyes darting away from yours, to your lips, your neck, and finally the hand you place upon his chest.  

Only to have the moment broken when you can hear and feel the rumble from his stomach. His nervous laugh follows as he reaches up to scratch behind his ear.

“Hungry?”

He nods in response, his eyes wide as he remains unusually silent.

“Come on, I’ll buy you dinner.” You offer as you turn him around to head to the car.

...

You both settle on a take out spot, and return home to wash up and eat.

After finishing your meal and tearing off your overalls, you both settle down on the hammock in your yard. With Jungkook’s legs long enough to touch the ground, he slowly rocks the seat back and forth.  He’s been near silent since that close moment together. He’s never had a problem with banter and flirtation, but now you’ve come to notice that any attention which can’t be passed off as a joke causes him to flounder.

Laying back in the hammock, both full and content, your eyes threaten to close after the long day as Jungkook continues to sit beside you. The sound of crickets lulling you to sleep. “Keep an eye out for that thief of mine will you?” You may not like games but if it makes him comfortable, and keeps him talking, you’ll continue to play this ruse with him.

“You trust me to keep watch without your supervision?”

“Are you suggesting I shouldn’t?”

“No, it’s just a lot more credit than you usually give me.”

“I think you’ve earned it.” You whisper as you finally drift off.

It feels like only a few minutes of rest before the sun sets and the air turns cool. Jungkook’s chin comes to rest on the top of your head like it did back in the greenhouse. He shifts his weight, burrowing his arms around and behind to cover you as he takes deep breaths. You lean into him seeking the warmth of his chest. No longer restricted by your childish anger to enjoy his company is a welcome relief, you only wish you could relinquish him of any of his own troubles and doubts.  And then, you feel it, a drop of cold rain hitting your neck. The hammock moves again as he adjusts, the back of his fingers running across the damp spot. Another finds your cheek and he wipes that away too, your skin shivering in response.

But when a speck lands your mouth he stops. You wait, a second, then two. Your anticipation grows with face heating up and your chest tightening as you continue to crave his touch. You want him to wipe it away, to touch you, to act on whatever desires he might be keeping. You part your lips with the desperate hope that he will take the hint. Rejoicing when the warm pad of his thumb spreads the drop across the delicate skin.

He comes down on to you, his mouth catching any and all remains of the droplet as he encases your lips. Jungkook places a hand on your neck while the other grabs the ropes of the hammock, his legs straddle your hips. The scattered rain turns to a downpour as he remains fixed to your mouth, even his form isn’t enough to shield you from the current washing down from the sky.

As your hands reach up to his own damp and curling locks entwining your fingers in the strands he moans and nips. But as quickly as it started, so too does it end. When Jungkook snaps up as though jolted from a dream. His ears point back as an apology flows from him. “I-I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Jungkook,” you call out to him but he ignores you as he tries to detangle himself. When one foot hits the ground. You grab his waist and try again. “Jungkook, you don’t have to be sorry.” But instead of stopping he merely pulls you off and along with him, sending you both to the muddy ground, but this time with you on top of him.

“Are you okay?” He asks the loud pouring of the rain forcing him to raise the volume of his voice.

You chuckle at his concern considering he’s the one flat on his back. “I think I should be asking you that question instead.” You pause as he mirrors your grin. “Why did you stop? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” He looks up at you, his brow furrowing. “You did nothing wrong. It was me. I was the one acting on my instincts. I shouldn’t have done that when I know how much you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you...” You explain, trying your best not to be drowned out by the water cascading down. “The things you did might have annoyed me, but I get it now. I’m just sorry it took me so long to notice.”

“Notice what?”

“How fucked up your situation is. For not realizing how alone you must have been. How caged you must have felt. I’ve been so focused on my own little world that I didn’t realize what was happening or why you were acting the way you were. I like you, a lot, but I was too wrapped up in my frustration to say how I felt...”

“It’s not your fault.”

You shake your head. “I am not innocent in this. I should have been paying more attention.”

“Then pay attention to me now.” He begs with his round eyes shining up at you.  

“But in what way? As a neighbour, as a friend, or maybe something more?" Your voice cracks in desperation, trying to find his needs while also hoping they are the same as yours. “Is that why you were always teasing me the way you did? You wanted something more?”

“You really want to know?” Jungkook’s tone is low as it grips on to his every word. “I did it because it was the only thing that could distract me from my incessant need for you. Seeing your reactions and having your attention kept me in check. I’m very different from you and I’m aware it could cause a problem. I wasn’t sure if you could ever fully want me because of that.” He reaches to rub around the base of his ears. “But every day that I looked over I wanted to hold you, to claim you, to take you right here on this very spot. So often I dreamed of jumping the fence and coming for you instead of...”

You smile down at him, noting his near admission. “Instead of?”

“Instead of watching from a distance.” He smirks, catching and narrowly fixing his statement. Pleading guilty only to his longing for you.

“Then do it.” You demand of him.

He groans from his position beneath you. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I’m not. You weren’t the only one peeking through the fence Jungkook.” Reaching up to your collar you tug off your shirt. He follows your lead with his own to reveal his sculpted chest he’s taunted you with so many times. “I don’t care if we’re different from each other. I don’t care if it causes a problem.” You shift back on his body traveling from your seat near his stomach down to his hips, his clothed dick firm and pressing against you. A moan escapes his lips, confirming that you’ve made your point. “There’s no one else nearby, so if you want me so much that you’re willing to fuck me out here, in the rain and mud-”  

His hands come to grip your waist, and in one swift motion, he lifts you off, maneuvering out from underneath, to fall into place behind you. From there he pushes you down to your hands and knees, his body bent over yours. “You have no idea how much I want to.” He whispers with a kiss to your bare shoulder damp from the rain that continues to pour.

He takes off your bra before his face moves down your back, nose trailing against your skin and pausing at your shorts. Unfastening the button he pulls them down, freeing you of your underwear too before they are both cast aside. “I want to smell you, and taste you.” Jungkook takes in a deep breath, wrapping an arm around your legs, and barring your thighs. He buries his face between your legs, his tongue reaching out to deliver a long lick to your folds pausing after every lap.

Your palms dig into the ground, the cool mud coming to the surface to meet them. You buck against his tongue but the forearm holding you remains firm, sending your squirming downward to bury your elbows in the soggy grass too.

Jungkook chuckles as you inadvertently give him a better angle. From behind you can hear the zipper of his own shorts. Rubbing the head of his cock against your damp folds, he covers it with the slick of your slit, and with a long groan he eases it inside. He’s slow at first, letting you savor the girth and warmth of him. So you start to edge back and forward on his cock. Taking the time to enjoy every inch, along with the sounds that leave him. But when he returns to take control, the first thrust is so powerful, his thighs hit your ass with a loud clap, and every jolt of his hips after, drives you further down each time.

A stuttering groan escapes him as he fills you. Thinking he’s finished you lean forwards and until his cock pulls out, but in response he grabs your waist. Turning you over, back to the ground on top of the discarded clothes and facing him.

He lowers himself pressing his chest against yours. His fingers reach to grab your chin and take a kiss. His cock, despite having come only moments before, is hard once more and poised to enter once again.

“How are you-” You manage to squeeze a few words in the gaps between his kisses as he draws breath. “Ready for more-” Another pass of his tongue. “Already?”

“You have my hybrid traits to thank for that.” He moves to nibble on the side of your throat. “I have more to give you, if you want it.”

You nod unable to emit any noise other than a gasp as his mouth finds a sensitive spot on your neck. His dick forges in again, your slick and his cum dripping out of you as he fills you with himself instead.

You’ve avoided touching him with your own hands as they are patched with mud, but as his thrusts grow more powerful than even before, you’re forced to grab on his arms and chest. Leaving behind streaks of dirt which display the path of your grip. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, in fact looks rather encouraged by your touch, and the marks you leave him.

“What a dirty woman you are, and getting me all messy too.” He scoffs while admiring your handiwork. “Can I return the favour?”

“Help me come first and you can do whatever the fuck you want.” You gasp on the brink of your climax.  

His ears perk up and a grin streaks across his face. “Close are you?” He grabs your calf and wraps your leg around his back, the other follows suit and his hand comes to rest on your lower back pushing you up and into him effectively grinding your mount against him.

You gasp and flinch with the sudden pressure, but he holds you firm as your back arches to meet him.

His hips beat on at a rapid pace, a small whimper escapes him as you reach the peak, tipping you over the edge. The chilling rain can in no way can douse the searing heat that spreads through you. You're still gasping when his jaw clamps down hard, his teeth poised upon your skin. The first pulse of his cock comes inside, but on the second he pulls out to splatter your chest and stomach with the rest. His hand comes to clutch his shaft, spilling more out and on to you with each stroke.

After every remaining drop has been cast on you he smiles, dragging his fingers across the rain drenched mess of mud and cum on your skin. “Never thought I’d ever see you so thoroughly soiled.”

You giggle at his remarks through your deep breaths. “And now that you do, what do you think?”

“I think it suits you, the dirt, the rain, and me...” He lowers himself down onto you, with his head now resting upon your shoulder. “It’s too bad though. Now I just want more, but we’re both far too filthy to carry on like this.”  

You turn to whisper at the base of his ear. “Who says we can’t continue in the shower...”

...

You wake early the next morning with the sun spilling into the room, lighting up your bed, and the hybrid sleeping next to you. His ears and nose twitching as he continues to rest. Slipping out from the covers, and into a set of clean gardening clothes, you exit the room with as little sound as possible.

On the tile floor of your hall, muddy footprints trail from your backdoor to your bathroom.  A smile pulls at your lips as you recall the events which brought them there. Jungkook had been so excited to keep going he picked you up and rushed you inside.

The feeling from the warm water and hands in contrast to the cool rain was enough to bring back the waves of pleasure. He was so thorough in washing you down, you might have to ask him to join you for another this morning and repay the favour.  

Outside in the garden you find all your harvest from the day before present and untouched. You’re pleased by this new development, but it’s not the fact that your crops are intact which makes you happy, it’s the comfort in knowing that Jungkook didn’t feel the need to take them.

A few minutes later the hybrid in question comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist pulling with him a blanket he took from the bed to cover the both of you. “Morning.” He mumbles, as his nose finds the crook of your neck where he exhales with a deep and relaxed sigh.

“Morning.” You respond, enjoying the tickle of his breath before you turn around to better see him. “It seems the thief didn’t strike last night. ”

“I guess they found a new garden to plunder and devour?” Jungkook suggests, giving you a sly grin, before he opens his mouth again. It’s easy to see that he’s getting ready to confess, his face shifts to a stern expression as he looks down at the ground, the guilt weighing heavily upon his brow. Placing your index to his lips you stop him. No longer needing to hear those words of admission, you offer a new proposal instead.

“Maybe, but that was just one night. The thief might still come back. So if it’s alright with you I would like you to stay here. Until we can be sure they won’t return.”

Jungkook lets out a satisfied chuckle, pushing aside your finger and pulling you tighter into his warm embrace. “You’re right, I suppose it would be safer if I stayed.” His lips plant a kiss on the top of your head where he then rests his chin. “A temptation as enticing as this, shouldn’t be left alone and unattended.”

...

[class1akids]

I’ve seen now several people claiming that Shouto is so naive to be happy that “Touya cares about him” - so I just want to put my interpretation of this scene out (even though it’s pretty obvious to me). 

Shouto’s expression in this panel is amazing. It is focused - nothing like the aloof airhead he can be sometimes. 

I don’t think he interprets Touya’s murderous intentions and his berating of Shouto’s behaviour as “oh, look, cool, my older brother always cared about me - I’m so happy” kind of way. 

I think he is glad - but it’s because he understands this as his opening. 

One of the key moments in the Midoriya vs Todoroki fight (also referenced in the “he is me” moment of Shouto) is when Shouto looks at Endeavor to see how much he managed to piss him off and Izuku is like “where are you looking? I’m not done yet”. 

And that’s the moment Shouto starts to forget Endeavor and focuses on Izuku instead so he starts to hear what Izuku is saying to him. Up until then, his entire focus was on showing off to Endeavor. 

So I think this is what Shouto sees now - because if Touya prepared to kill Shouto, if Touya kept watching him, seeing him at the Sport Festival and other times when he was cold, self-restraining or wavering then it’s an opportunity for Shouto to get Touya’s attention. To speak his truth in a way that may get through to Touya and it’s a chance to show him with his actions how much he changed since then. How much he doesn’t need the purpose Endeavor created him for, because once he broke out of the tunnel vision he could find his own purpose and meaning. 

So I think Shouto is glad not for self-indulgent reasons, but because it’s an opportunity to maybe give Touya the experience he himself lived through that helped him to break free - being so engaged with another person, even if in a brutal fight, that for a moment he managed to get out of his own head and forget Endeavor. 

It didn’t magically cure his trauma, it didn’t heal the past, it didn’t even solve Shouto’s feelings about his father - but it gave him a single moment of clarity, something solid to stand on that afterwards slowly allowed him to break out of himself and bond with his family, make friends and perhaps most importantly to understand and define himself. 

So far, Shouto has been approaching this fight the right way, I think. He listened to Touya, he lets him vent his feelings (even the irrational ones - he doesn’t at all try to refute the golden child accusations or play trauma olympics with him), he takes all the hits, al the rage, and he even validates Touya’s feelings about the abuse and the awfulness of the family without trying to say anything about Endeavor being better now (like Midoriya did in the war) or to justify his own weakness that Touya berates him for.  

He tells Touya that his feelings are valid and his experience is valid, but calls him out for dragging outside people into it - the same way Shouto took out his frustration on Sero and how Izuku called him out for fucking around and treating others as tools in his power-demonstration for Endeavor. 

And now that he has Touya’s full attention, he can show him with the move he prepared just for his brother, in a confrontation where he chose to be there for him what Shouto is about as a person and a hero. It’s his chance to express himself - because words always need to be backed with action and maybe he’ll be able to demonstrate a kind of strength that’s outside the rules that Endeavor made for the both of them. To show Touya that they don’t have to play the roles they were given. He can show him a different flashfire that’s not about proving who is stronger, but one that Shouto came up with specifically for Touya. To save him. To show him that he cares. To go out of his way specifically for Touya in a way probably nobody ever has.  

[frogtanii]

iwaizumi was... overwhelmed, to say the least.

the past few days had been such a whirlwind of change that hajime could barely properly process, much less appropriately react to it all, so he behaved much like a zombie, saying yes when prompted, signing papers when told, and packing up what was his entire life for the past 11 months.

wow. iwaizumi collapsed on his bed as he scanned his now barren bedroom. he’d been here for almost a year and yet, all his belongings were in boxes within a couple of days.

hajime couldn’t keep the disbelieving chuckle from escaping his chest as he leaned back on his bed, dark brown eyes trained on the ceiling.

it felt like he’d spent such a large chunk of his life trapped in this house, under the foot of the woman who he thought he’d marry but in reality, he’d been in little leagues longer than he’d been in love.

iwaizumi scoffed and rolled his eyes. yeah, “in love”. it’d been about a week since his whole life started to unravel and he had hardly seen, let alone spoken to meiko throughout that entire time.

over text, she’d sworn up and down that she loved and cared about him but as she passed by him packing his things a few days ago, she’d barely spared him a second glance.

hajime wasn’t going to lie. it hurt. he’d opened his heart up to her, something he didn’t do easily, and she’d taken his trust and used it to twist him into her weapon.

he always believed he was stronger than this — he’d never forget his mother telling him so when he was younger. he had fallen and scraped his knee yet he refused to cry to keep from upsetting his mom. iwaizumi existed to live up to what his mother thought of him but here he was, completely enveloped in meiko’s shit, doing her dirty work and following her bidding like some mutt.

god, toorū was right. he really was her bitch.

“i could hear you thinking from down the hall, iwa-chan.” speak of the devil...

oikawa stood at his doorway, leaning against the frame with a posture that seemed relaxed at first glance but if you looked a little closer, you’d notice the tenseness in his shoulders and the tightness of his smile.

hajime quickly sat up on his bed before motioning for his old friend to enter. “uh, yeah,” he began, his voice cracking a little from disuse, “i have a lot to think about.”

the light haired brunette let out an understanding hum before wandering into the room, sharp observant eyes darting to look at all the empty walls. “looks like you’re all packed.”

“pretty much,” iwaizumi nodded before the room fell into an awkward silence, the two childhood friends completely avoiding one another’s eyes.

“look, i-“

“iwa-chan, i’m-“

they both paused for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound carrying into the hall and throughout the house.

hajime wiped a few stray tears from his eyes, shaking his head at their awkwardness. “you first, shittykawa.”

toorū gasped in halfhearted mock offense before quickly sobering up, training iwaizumi with a completely serious look. “i’m sorry and before you go on some bullshit, self sacrificing rant, you’re not the only one to blame for what happened to our friendship.”

he sighed while making his way to iwaizumi’s bed, sitting down gently beside him. “i should’ve known better, okay? i shouldn’t have let my jealousy and insecurities get in between us but i guess i got swept up in the attention, yknow? meiko is actually charming when she wants to be.”

iwaizumi nodded in agreement, knowing all too well how compelling meiko could be. the room fell into a more comfortable silence as both boys escaped into their thoughts, questions about the future of their friendship flitting throughout their minds.

“oh!” oikawa was pulled out of his own head at hajime’s exclamation, his eyes moving to observe his friend dig through his pockets to procure a thick white envelope. “here. i’d like you to give this yn.”

all toorū could do was nod, his brain short circuiting at the sight of iwaizumi’s apparent kindness to the woman he tormented for so long. “uh, what’s in it?” he ventured to ask, his soft hands toying with the sealed envelope flap.

a soft chuckle came from across the bed. “don’t be so nosy toorū, just give it to her, yeah?” oikawa rolled his eyes but obliged, the bed creaking as he stood to his feet.

“so... this is it, huh?” it was like the reality of the situation was just now sinking in — they hadn’t been close in a while but iwaizumi was still his best friend and he wasn’t quite ready to let him go.

they’d been through so much together, practically growing up together and now, they’d only see each other on holidays, if even then, and then he’d never be invited to hajime’s wedding as his best man as they’d planned and he also wouldn’t be the coolest uncle/godfather of iwa’s children and—

“fuck no,” hajime scoffed with a bright grin on his face. “thought you were gonna annoy me til the end of time shittykawa. don’t tell me you’re quitting your job now.”

the hidden meaning behind iwaizumi’s words brought tears to oikawa’s eyes and before he could stop himself, he launched his body into iwa’s arms. hajime hesitated, his hands stuttering at toorū’s sides as though he’d forgotten how to hug but the feeling passed, his arms winding around his friend’s lithe waist.

“‘m gonna miss you hajime,” oikawa’s voice came out as a broken whimper, his arms tightening around his shoulders.

iwaizumi hummed instead of responding, too afraid of his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. they stood there for a moment but the honk of the moving truck outside signaled the both of them of their limited time.

hurriedly, oikawa wiped the tears off his cheeks before waving awkwardly at iwaizumi as he left the room with a friendly, “don’t be a stranger.”

and then he was gone.

toorū finally allowed himself to collapse into sobs on his best friends empty bed, his palms pressing into his eyes as he sat there and just let himself feel.

apparently, he wasn’t crying very quietly because it took only a few moments for you to find him, your soft footsteps alerting him to your presence. oikawa scrambled to wipe away what he knew was an unattractive mixture of tears and snot as you got closer.

you were one of the last people he wanted to see him like this.

“hey,” you whispered, standing a few feet away from him. “um, i know this is probably a bad time but i just wanted to thank you for apologizing? back at the awards show?”

toorū sniffed as he looked up at you with confusion written on his face. “what? you shouldn’t thank me for apologizing. ‘s common courtesy.”

you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “well, not always. so, thank you.” finished with your piece and not too keen on lingering where you weren’t wanted, you moved towards the door but were swiftly stopped before you got there.

“um, here. it’s from iwa-chan.” you gaped at the thick envelope oikawa was handing you before taking it and opening it, a low curse falling from your lips.

inside the package was a dense wad of cash, more money than you’d seen in months. accompanied with it was a letter, written in beautifully loopy handwriting.

you shut it quickly before oikawa could see, stuffing the envelope deep within your pocket where you could access it alone in the depths of your room.

“do you wanna come eat? last i heard, bokuto and tsumu were doing a cooking competition and i’m sure it’ll be fun to watch.” you were severely thrown off by the money and letter but you were determined to show toorū that you’d accepted his apology and were on your way to making amends.

he gave you a shy nod and trailed behind you to the kitchen, the loud sounds of fire and screaming coming from down the hall. you wanted to focus on the fun and merriment but the envelope was practically burning a hole in your pocket.

later that night, you finally got the chance to open the letter and read it, your former manager’s words bringing tears to your eyes.

dear yn,

i’m probably the last person you expected to hear from. you probably didn’t want to hear from me at all if i’m being honest and i don’t blame you. i know there is nothing i can say that could make up for what i’ve done to you but i’d like to try.

i’m sorry. those words don’t nearly express in and of themselves how truly remorseful i am but they needed to be said. there’s no excuse for how i treated you — not meiko, not my stress, absolutely nothing.

you deserved my common decency and respect and i didn’t give that to you. instead, i abused my position and made your life hell. i’ll never forgive myself for that.

uh, i bet you’re wondering what the money is? i promise i’m not trying to pay you off, it’s just all the money i’ve denied you since you moved here. i have a lot of wrongs to right and this is one of them.

sorry, i’m not very good with words but i just wanted you to know that i’m very sorry for everything that i’ve done. and i’m in no place to make demands or anything but i just wanted to ask if you’d keep an eye on oikawa for me.

he’s strong but he’s also vulnerable. he might be a pain in my ass but he’s my best friend and since i can’t keep him from drowning, i was wondering if you’d do that - not for me but for him.

anyways, this letter is shit but i suppose you get the gist. use the money for whatever you want and if you’re as unselfish as i’ve heard, you don’t owe me anything. you don’t owe me money, kindness, or forgiveness.

take care of yourself,

iwaizumi hajime

℗ poker face

so... this is it

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - soooo m back :D hopefully this is the last of my mini hiatuses!! this chapter sucked to write but i’m not mad at how it turned out?? pls let me know how i did skjdkd don’t forget to feed me <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[earlgreydream]

guide me.

| zemo x reader | smut |

sugar daddy zemo is back because i’m h word

cw: slight ddlg, daddy kink, d/s, innocence kinkkk, guided masturbation, etc

“Hi baby,” Zemo’s voice was low as he entered the dark room. You jumped out of bed and bounded over to Zemo, jumping into his arms.

“It’s so late, my little love, you’re supposed to be asleep,” Zemo scolded you gently. 

“But daddy I can’t sleep without you,” you pouted, a whine drawing out your words.

“You know I need to work late. I’m here now, go get back in bed,” Zemo slapped your ass as you turned to obey, making you shriek.

You laid down, struggling to drift off as you waited for him to come to bed. You squirmed in the sheets, rolling onto your belly and trying to get comfortable. You whined for him, and he stuck his head out of the bathroom, wondering why you were in such a whiny, subby mood.

“I’m coming,” he promised, kissing you as he climbed into the bed.

“Behave and go to sleep, and we can have some fun tomorrow,” Zemo hushed you as you continued to squirm and writhe around. You settled down, wanting him to be proud of you. Zemo’s body was warm as you curled up against his side, his arm wrapping around your waist.

You walked through the designer stores with Zemo, who was more than happy to spoil you. He felt guilty about having to leave town for work the next day, and he wanted to spend time with you and take you shopping before you left. He never liked to leave you, even when it was necessary.

“You look so pretty, little love,” Zemo spun you around as you wore a tiny dress.

“You like it?”

“I love it on you.” 

He leaned down to kiss your lips, grabbing your ass possessively. You blushed and giggled, knowing he was doing it to show off to the other men who were around. You were his and he would hurt anyone who so much as looked at you too long.

“Go see about the pretty lace,” he pushed you toward a lingerie store, making you blush. You went in while he waited outside, after your insistence for him to let you pick to surprise him. You got several pretty sets for Zemo to see you in, wanting to make him happy. He tried to look into the bag you carried, but you held it closed with a giggle.

“It’s supposed to be a surprise, daddy!” you insisted, and Zemo hummed and kissed your throat, tugging back on your hair lightly.

“A surprise? You’ll show me one when we get home, then?”

You nodded excitedly, squeezing your thighs together in anticipation. He shook his head at you, but a gentle smile adorned his face. You broke into a fit of giggles as he kissed you again, holding your face and kissing your cheeks.

“Come on, it’s getting late, we have a reservation,” Zemo helped you carry your bags to the car and your chauffeur took you to a restaurant. 

Zemo held your hand as the two of you walked inside, greeted as regulars in the Michelin star restaurant. Everything in Zemo’s life was expensive, perfect, and luxurious, and you were treated with the same respect. The two of you were taken to a private table in the back, Zemo sitting beside you, knowing your need to be close to him before you were separated. 

“Did you enjoy your day, little love?” Zemo asked, squeezing your thigh through your thin tights.

“Yes! I always like being with you,” you giggled, pushing your lips out for a kiss. He gave you what you wanted, pressing his lips against yours before sipping the white wine.

“I’m going to be gone for a couple of weeks,” Zemo spoke, making you sad. You already knew this, but you hated to hear him remind you.

“I’m going to miss you. And I’m going to be so needy when you get back,” you informed him, making the blond smile.

“I’ll miss you too. You have my permission to take care of yourself while I’m gone.” 

“Take care of myself?” you repeated, not understanding what he was saying to you. You were a virgin when you met Zemo, and sex was a learning experience for you. He’d been the only one to ever please you, and he taught you about what you didn’t know from the basic sex-ed in school.

“Yes, love, get yourself off. Daddy’s going to be gone a long time,” Zemo squeezed your knee lightly, and a blush spread across your cheeks at his words. You bit your lip, and he raised an eyebrow at your hesitation. He waited for you to speak again, not caring that you were shy.

“I don’t know how. I’ve never done it before,” he barely heard you, and he tilted your chin up, making you look him in the eyes.

“You’ve never touched yourself?”

“No.”

You were embarrassed, even though you knew Zemo was never one to shame you. He looked slightly amused by your shyness, but didn’t tease.

“I’ll teach you tonight, when we’re home. Don’t want my girl all needy in my absence.”

You nodded slowly, scooting closer to him. He kissed the side of your head and nudged you to eat as food was set in front of you. He talked idly about his business trip, promising to spend all the time in the world with you when he returned. You never liked it when Zemo left, you didn’t like being alone, even in the huge home he had with the housekeepers.

When you arrived back home, housekeepers put your bags away in your private suite, while you went to join Zemo in your shared bedroom. He slipped your coat off of your body, and you stilled as he unzipped your dress carefully, kissing down your spine as he did so. You pried your tights off and went to the bed, waiting for your boyfriend to join you.

“Pretty girl,” he kissed your cheek, slipping onto the bed behind you. 

You blushed as you looked at yourself in the mirror that Zemo had in front of the bed, a product of his massive ego.

“Don’t be shy, sweetheart,” Zemo hummed, his hands sliding up and down your body, cupping you and playing with your sensitive areas, getting you aroused.

You relaxed back against his chest, and he draped your legs open over his.

“If I do a good job, will you fuck me after?” you asked sweetly, tilting your head back to gaze up at him. Zemo nearly melted at that despite the filthy words, kissing you gently.

“Yes, I couldn’t resist. Then we can have a bath, yes?”

You nodded in agreement, resting back against him. He took your smaller hand in his, guiding your touch down to your dripping sex. He led your movements, dragging two fingers up and down slowly through your wet folds.

“Keep going, love. Play with your clit like I do, like little circles,” his voice was soft in your ear, his breath stirring your hair. He pressed kisses down the column of your throat, softly praising you and urging you to continue. Zemo loved the sound of your breathy moans, and feeling your body arch off of him. 

“Does it feel nice? Try going inside, feeling your tight little sex.”

“Yes,” you whined as two of your fingers slowly slid in and out of your walls, curling forward against the spongey area that made you shudder. It didn’t feel quite as good as when Zemo did it, your small fingers couldn’t reach the same deep spots. 

“Make yourself come, I want to watch,” he hummed, kissing your neck and playing with your nipples, adding to your stimulation.

“Help me,” you begged, and he shook his head.

“You need to be able to do it on your own, baby.”

You whimpered and stroked your clit shyly until you felt the pressure release, sending sparks throughout your body, shuddering against Zemo. He grinned and kissed your shoulder, whispering how proud he was of you. You blushed but smiled at him, soaking up the praise. 

“Daddy,” you whined, turning around and straddling his lap. You pouted before he caught you in a heavy kiss, his large hands going to squeeze your waist. 

“Mmm?”

“You promised!” 

He laughed softly, sliding down to lay flat on his back and position you over him. You sank down onto him, slowly filling you up until he was all the way in you. Zemo moaned and squeezed your ass, helping you roll forward and ride him, your hands going to his chest for balance as you bounced, fucking yourself on him. Your body tightened as you squealed his name, high-pitched moans catching as he slammed upwards into you. 

He brought your hips down forcefully as he snapped up repeatedly, pleasure flooding your head and body as your second orgasm nearly caused you to fall over. You screamed and dragged your nails down his chest as he came inside of you, the sensation sending another wave of euphoria through you.

Zemo caught you, laying you down on his chest and lazily rocking up into you a few more times, just to hear the broken, tired moans that fell from your lips. 

“Want a bath?”

You nodded, and he carried you to the large bowl tub, filling it with water and dropping fizzing balls into it, scents of vanilla and shea wafting up around you. He settled behind you again, washing your body carefully and praising you. 

“I’m going to miss you, my little love,” Zemo murmured, holding you tightly.

“Do you have to go?” your voice was soft, and Zemo’s heart ached at the disappointment in your voice.

“I do. I’m so sorry. But I will spoil you when I’m home. I’ll take you on a vacation, just us,” he promised. You smiled, sighing happily as he massaged your back with soapy hands, working the tension out of your muscles.

Once you were out of the bath, you slipped into a deep blue lace teddy that you’d gotten today, showing off to Zemo. He fought back to urge to tear it off of you, going another round. He knew you were tired, and he let you sleep in his arms, your face buried in his chest.

Zemo was already gone by the time you woke up, and you walked to your private suite to find clean clothes. A box sat on the end of your bed, and you approached it curiously. You lifted the top off of the box, blushing as you saw the silicon toys inside. You picked up the note from Zemo, biting back a smirk as you shook your head.

To help you while I’m gone. Send me videos. Xx - Baron Zemo

The second he stepped off the plane, you were in his arms, being spun around and kissed all over. A butler carried your suitcases onto a private jet, and Zemo smiled into the kiss. 

“Ready to spend some time on the private islands, baby?”