#this shit happens when you're young and drunk on a death world

[kalinara]

That's just Tatooine for you.

It’s so crazy that Luke Skywalker thought his dad was just some freighter pilot and yet also claimed to be a podracing fan how did he not think to look at the records and see his dad was the only human to ever win the Boonta Eve Classic the legend who defeated the great Sebulba #FakeFan

[silent-raven13]

A Kind Gesture

(AU: Hobie is a guy tryin to make it big! One day he got beat up and met someone, he did expect.)

"Stay out, you fucking fag!" A grown man kicked out a slim drunk punker out of a bar.

"Fuck you, wanker!" The Slim young man whipped the blood off his nose before wobbling his way out of the area. His drunk body felt so sluggish, and felt a slight twinge of pain from his stomach. "Ugh, stupid bastards. Pieces of shit!"

He hurled at a side of building wall feeling all his drinking came back up, breathing heavily he wonder around some neighborhood in Brooklyn.

Today was not his day, everything went to shit. He was squatting at a fellow friend's pad for a bit, until there was drug dealers busting down the door. Turns out his friend owe some money. So the slim punker had to make a run for it, then he realized he didn't have money to buy some food.

So the punker did what he had to do. Meet some people at a bar for his service, and return he gets some cash. Sometimes he goes on a popular block where he see all sorts of prostitutes, he never like working out in the wide open. He prefers during his underground concerts or bars where it's safer.

He got the looks, the charm, and the body to make any man or woman to want him. He knows this at the age of fourteen when he lived out on the streets being homeless, he was hungry and a man offered him some cash for sex. Hobie bites his bottom lip remembering how dirty he felt, yet that burger he bought that night was so fulfilling and warm. He forgot about it.

"The world is so fucking cruel." He mutters to himself as he lean against some part of building, slowly sliding down against the brick warm to sit on the dirty New York ground. His left swollen eyes glanced at a rat eating a dirty pizza without a care in the world.

This made the dark skinned male stare up in the sky to see the city lights being so revolting, it's giving him a painful headache. "Today was a shit day, eh ol' Hobie?" He spoke to himself feeling his face throbbing, punches got him good.

Today was the worst day, besides running from drug dealers and fucking blokes for money. Of course, some didn't pay or they pay him too little. His made a performance at the same bar and got booed at, and the guy he's supposed to meet up for being signed didn't find him worth it. Unless he could change him mind for sex, it made Hobie so angry he saw red. Next thing he knew, he punched the bastard in the face and an all out brawl happens at the bar.

Thus being here on the brink of death- maybe, or maybe not. He's too drunk to care about the blood dripping down his noses, and his slow breathing. He could feel himself getting sick from the cold.

"Does it matter? I fucking hate this life." Hobie mutters, this was his breaking point. All his dreams washed down, and another night sleeping in the day cold. With no money, no will to continue on- What's the point?

"Oh my god! Man, are you okay?" A man's voice ring the punker's ear.

He drunkly move his head up to face the most cutest man he ever seen. Those big eyes reminded him of a fawn color of Honey Brown and a softest baby face. How old is this man?

"Izzz... aulll guuud." Hobie mumbles feeling exhausted to speak.

The young man looked concerned instead of a typical New Yorker would care. It's normal for people in the area to ignore anyone in need. "Awe, shit. You're bleeding!" The dark skinned man went over to check on him, he quickly patted his jacket to see if he had a napkin.

Hobie saw the stranger wearing a basic beige suit that seems a bit too big for him. Did he borrow it from someone? The young man pulled out a handkerchief to cover Hobie's nose to stop the bleeding. "Oi, the fuck you touching me for?" Hobie took this as a surprised and whack the stranger's hand away from his face.

"Ay, chill. I'm trying to help."

"Fuck off. Don't need your bloody pity."

"It's not pity." The stranger went for the punker's nose again, "Shhh, let me help stop the bleeding. Trust, I won't hurt you."

"I said fuck-" Hobie suddenly coughing out loud then gagging out loud.

"Shit, dude." The stranger took a step back being surprised, then felt unsure what to do. "Are you good, man?"

"Leave me the fuck alone, kay Bambi?"

"Bambi? Wah?" The young man blinks a couple of times then he pouted with his plump lips, "I'm not Bambi. Mmm, hold on. Uh hold this and keep it there till the bleeding stop. Uh, stay right there?" His voice sounded awkward, unsure if he was supposed to let the punker know to not move.

Hobie merely made a "Pff" sound as he hold the shimmer cream handkerchief being stained by his own blood. A scent of coffee, and cream orange tickled his nose, "Hmm, he smells pretty good." He thought to himself.

He didn't expect the stranger to run up the steps to the apartment next where the punker is lying around. Suddenly, the stranger came back down with a damp warm towel, "Here, you're bleeding so much. Come on, let's go inside."

"Nooo..." Hobie mumbles.

"Come on, Flaco. You need medical attention." The stranger helps him off. Hobie being six foot, he noticed the strange was two inches shorter than him. Noticed the guy spoke with a Puerto Rican accent in Spanish.

The slim man slouch against the stranger letting make an 'Oohphff' sound. The Black Latino took a few steps to the side being surprised how heavy the punker's body lean against him. "Work with me, man. We're going up the steps- and-" Hobie threw up on the side walk and coughs. "Okay, um... puke it all up first."

Hobie felt a hand on his back, patting him to throw everything up. "Blargghhh! Fuck!" He coughs, he weakly use the damp towel to wipe his mouth.

"Ohh, that's not good, man. Be careful on the steps." The strange with the tapered Afro helps the punker go up the steps so very slowly, and wobbles his way to the elevator with the stranger helping him.

"Aye, don't worry. I'm only on the eighth floor." The man with the tapered Afro making small talk. "You know, told said it was gonna rain but it feels like it's just cold. It was a bit windy and-"

On and on and on did the guy keep talking. Hobie just wanted to be left alone, he could've push him off or punch him. But his gut was telling him to stay with this guy. Something about Bambi made him go with the flow.

Whatever. If he's expecting sex, I'll give it to him if I get a warm meal and bed.

Hobie didn't care, he wants a place to stay for the night. When he arrived to the man's apartment, he was welcomed with a warm atmosphere. His own eyes sparkled at the cozy living room, it wasn't fancy or a frat place, but a comfortable living room with warm wood and fun items around. He saw paintings on the wall, and section where an unfinished painting on an easel stayed in the corner of the living room.

"Sit here. I'll get my first aid kit." The stranger let Hobie sit on the couch.

That's the first...

Normally, a person wouldn't let a drunk lay on a couch after seeing them on the streets. Yet the couch felt so soft and comfortable, he could smell the stranger's scent.

He wonders if the bloke was being stupid or plain ole' dumb for trusting a mere drunk. Hobie could be all sorts of bad, he could steal a few things and sell them for a quick buck.

Maybe I can take something worth for sale.

He lay on the couch eyeing at the console, "That's around five hundred dollars... hmm."

"Okay, I found my first aid kit." The stranger came back wearing a plain white shirt and shorts, Hobie's heart throb for the moment. He never realize how cute he looks. "Oh, um.. sorry I didn't introduce myself... Bit awkward now, since I let you in my home and you called me, 'Bambi' and you know, it's fast." The Black Latino rambles then shyly stops himself by the way the punker gave him a 'hurry up' expression.

"Um, yeah, so... my name is Miles and this is my apartment?" The young man finally put his first aid kit on his coffee table, "Hope the couch is comfortable, heh." He put on gloves, then get fresh damp towel to wipe the punker's face.

Hobie stares at Miles, "My name is Hobie."

"Hobie? Never heard a name like that before."

"Heh, I'm one of kind." He grins widely.

Miles lift's the punker's face being so gentle, he gently patted the blood off of Hobie's nose, and saw a cut on the plump lips, "You got a cut here and it's deep. I could take you to the doctor if you."

"Nah, leave it alone. It'll heal on its own- Ahh!" He winced feeling a sharp sting of the wet towel.

"No, you'll get an infection that way and the cut it deep. Let me help you. Trust me." Miles pulled his hand back then went even more gentle with the cleaning of the cut. His voice sounding sure.

"Why should I trust you?" His voice filled with deep serious tone almost threatening.

Miles shrugs without afraid of the punker's tone, "You don't, but you can take to account I came to help you, let you stay in my apartment and I'm here tending your wounds. Also, my mom is a nurse so I know a few things."

"Oh yeah? Bambi knows how to be a little nurse? Well, then," Hobie casually flirted being amused with this, "Where's your little white dress and clipboard?"

"Ha, I rather wear scrubs." Miles chuckles, "Anyway, your left eye is swollen and I might need to cut it so you won't get infected."

"Just give me a knife and I'll do it on my own." Hobie scoffs, "Give me a good ole' Rum and sterile knife and I can-" Miles cut him off, "I'm not doing that, but I can give you water."

"Pfft, you're a good lad, eh Bambi?" Hobie snorted with an eye roll.

Miles dug into his first aid kit pulling out some gauze and Hydrogen Peroxide, "I think alcohol should be the last of your worries. You reek of it and I rather have you sober when I'm treating you."

"Heh, you're the first person to say that. Normally when I'm drunk a bloke would try to take advantage of me."

Miles stares in shock, "Dude... that's-that's not cool."

"I pop them in the mouth because they are so damn annoying." Hobie snorts.

"Mm, still. That shouldn't happen to you. Some people are terrible." Miles shook his head while cleaning Hobie's wounds and cuts. The punker winced every touch of the Hydrogen Peroxide on the gauze, Miles made sure to be extra careful.

"Well," Hobie chuckles, "you get some wankers like that, Bams."

"Mmm," Miles pressed his lips together not liking that. Then, he went to get a sterilize sharp tool to poke up the swell eye, "Jesus, can you even see?"

"I manage. You should've seen the other guy." The wounded punker chuckles.

Miles chuckles with a slight smile, Hobie looks seeing that smile. Then made another winced when he felt Miles poke his shut swollen eye, "There. Let me clean it." Miles tend to Hobie's face with much care, his hand felt so warm that Hobie wanted to nuzzle him. Miles is cute, and he wouldn't mind sleeping with him.

Once the tapered afro haired man tends to his wounds. First he put Hobie a band-aid on the small cut of the eye. Then he finished stitching up Hobie's cut upper lip, he patted him, "There. I know that must've hurt."

"Eh, I had worse." Hobie tapped his upper lip at the stitch. "So your mum taught you this, huh?"

"Yeah, she always wanted me to know these things in case anything ever happens to me." He starts to clean up the mess, he saw the punker still messing with it. "Hey, stop touching it. You're gonna rip it."

Hobie huffed with his arms crossed, "Fine."

Miles saw the punker sitting on the couch, his eyes saw the blood and vomit stains on the tatter white tank, and his black leather jacket scruffs with dirt. Hobie didn't look too good to go outside, he saw those leather jeans covered with other dirts. "Um, you wanna stay for a bit longer..." He spoke softly.

"Huh?"

"I mean, you wanna stay over the night. You were drunk, and you look like you have one hell of a day. I don't think I feel comfortable making you leave like this." Miles finished cleaning up the mess, while holding the trash in one hand and his first aid kit in the other.

"Heh, what's dis? You don't feel comfortable?" Hobie laughs with a mocking expression, "Please, Bambi. I'm not pathetic. I know how to survive."

Miles frowns, "I won't stop you, but do you really want to leave? I can let you stay over the night."

"It's odd you're so trusting to a stranger." Hobie put one arm on the cushion of the couch.

"You're not a stranger, your Hobie." Miles gave an assure nod with a smile.

That made Hobie stare at him then let out a slight chuckle. "Well, if you don't want to stay. Do you want to stay for dinner? I'm making rice and beans, steak and grilled vegetables."

"I don't need your charity, I'm not that hungry-" Then his stomach made a loud growled. Hobie felt embarrassed at the loud sound, a shrill of giggles came out of Miles' mouth.

"How do you like your steak?"

"I prefer Medium rare..." Hobie admits.

"Okay." Miles smiles, "Do you wanna shower?"

"Yes." Hobie felt shy having to admit he did smell like vomit and beer.

"Okay. You can use the bathroom down the hall. I'll find some clothes for you to wear." Miles said to him.

"I don't need-" Miles didn't want to hear it, this time had a serious tone in his voice, "You smell like vomit, and got blood on your clothes. Don't worry, I got clothes that'll fit you. I'll get you a towel and shower cap."

"Fine." Hobie sighs as he stood walking around the living room to be nosy. He stood in a model pose with his hands in his leather black pants, his eye swelling down showing his left eye.

"Wow, I didn't know you had one eye blue? Or is it grey?" Miles blink surprised by the contrast of eye color from the punker.

"I got Heterochromia... and it's like a grey blue..." While his right eye is almost dark black. "What would I look better if both were blue?" He always heard people commenting he should have both eyes blue, it gives him the ick.

"No, I like the contrast. It makes you look majestic like a Celestial Prince." The young man complimented him.

This caught the punker off guard, almost made him shyly cover his smile. Hobie couldn't help but laugh from the cheesy line. "Shut the fuck up, mate. I'm not majestic..."

"I'm just sayin' you're a handsome guy and you got a pretty face and with those eyes, it pops more." Miles admits trying to hide his own flustered, he quickly changed the topic, "I'll get your towel." Quickly rushing down the hall to a storage closet to get some items for Hobie.

The punker stood looking at a shelves seeing photos of Bambi being around loving family. "Looks like his pops is a bloody pig." He mutters to himself seeing Miles' family photo next to an older man wearing a police man uniform and an older woman wearing a formal dress. Then he noticed a pre-teen girl wearing a light blue dress. "Must be his sister and mum."

Miles got his looks from his mom, but there was slight feature of his pops. Hobie saw another photo of Miles in Puerto Rico. How does he know this? There's a huge Puerto Rican behind Miles and his friends on the bitch. "Looks like he has a well life." Hobie had to admit, the bloke is well off.

He's kinda of jealous of that, he took the photo to stare at Miles' smile. It's real, pure without no forced wrinkles or worried eyes. He never seen a smile so pure.

"I wish I could make him smile like that..." Hobie drifted off for the moment, "What am I thinking? This is fucking weirdo, probably into some ego savior shit! I can't drop my ground. Need to always keep my eyes on this sicko!" He puts the picture back with a harsh 'tsk' sound.

"OK, I got you some clothes and towels. Here's a shower cap." Miles' voice rings Hobie's ear making his heart pound, he felt his face warm. The punker couldn't help think Miles' is a kind person, instead of expecting Miles being a terrible person.

Miles came in with an innocent face, he holds a stack of the items for Hobie. "The bathroom is down the hall to the left, you can use my bedroom to change it's on the right side. I left some extra clothes on my bed and I got lotion if you need some." He handed the things to Hobie, "I'll get started on cooking while you shower."

"Alright." Hobie took the items to go in the bathroom. Turning his head over to Miles, who was already heading in the kitchen to start cooking dinner.

Hobie went in the bathroom keeping the door locked, slowly starting to remove his clothing, he saw the dark bruises from the fight at the bar. It totally killed his drunk, yet he still felt a massive headache.

When he strips his clothing one by one, then stare at the mirror to check on his body. Hobie always had a well toned body, nice abs and nice biceps. The perfectly sculpted chest perked by the sheer cold. Tattoos on his sides with nipple piercings and belly button piercing shows a sexual appeal to his body. Hobie lick his bottom lip before going to the bathtub to start showering.

My god, this feels so good!

He felt the warm body tend to his sore body, it felt so nice to be clean. To shower without running cold water or be in a hurry. The warm water showers on his back, his hand rubbing the freshly herbal soap all over his body. He took the wash cloth to give himself a good scrubbing, he made sure repeats about three times.

Hobie wanted to be so clean that he doesn't need to shower for the next few days. Feeling his hand touching on the bruises feeling the suds all over his body while the water washes off all his impurities.

When he finally got out of the shower, he dries off his towel. "Should I sleep with him?" He thought to himself, seeing how he's being treated. No one is ever this nice. They always want something out of him, might as well give him what he wants, right?

Hobie had a towel wrapped around his waist, spotting Miles still cooking in the kitchen. The young man seems to be focus on the pot at the moment. The punker went to Miles room to find some neatly folded clothes, and the room seems so neat. Of course there was personal items like a book shelves of comic books, mangas and figurines.

Then a desk of a laptop looking like it's a work desk or another art station. Hobie saw that Miles has a lot of Apple products, a lot of expensive stuff in his room. "I can sleep with him, get him knocked out and take whatever to sell."

He finally went outside seeing Miles this time sitting on the couch watching television, he didn't noticed him yet. When Hobie finally had the courage to go up to him with his towel around his waist, "Oi."

Miles' big eyes finally landed at Hobie, "Oh, hey..." Then felt embarrassed for staring at the punker's bare chest. "Di-did the clothes not fit? Why are you-" Hobie removes his towel to show off his naked body.

This made the young Black Latino's eyes widen in shock, his whole face turned warm. "What are you doin-" Hobie cups his face then leans down to kiss Miles' in the mouth.

Miles stood in shock unsure what to do. His eyes widen feeling Hobie's lips on his, then some tongue licking the roof of his mouth. His hands up in the air still unsure what to do, he didn't expect the punker to make out with him and in the nude too.

Hobie sat on Miles' lap still giving him a deep kiss, his body slowly grind against his crotch feeling a hard bulge. "So he does like this?" Hobie thought to himself having more confidence. He kept doing it until his member felt hard.

That's when Miles quickly panic and roughly pulls away from Hobie. "NOOO! Stop!" Miles felt his lips swell from their kiss then quickly cover his mouth, "Hobie, I don't... I..."

The two were breathing heavily, Miles slouch down trying so hard not to look at Hobie's member. He felt the weight on his crotch, his own member throbbing for some fun. Miles took a moment trying to process his thoughts, unaware of Hobie's surprised reaction.

The punker didn't expect him to push him away, he thought things were getting good. "Did I do something wrong?" He thought to himself, his eyes tries to study him.

"I don't want to have sex with you, Hobie. I'm not expecting anything from you." Miles finally said feeling relieved, his face focused on the punker. Seeing those two contrasting eyes looking a bit frighten, the punker felt a bit embarrassed.

"Don't kick me out..." Hobie finally begs, "I'm sorry for-" Miles quickly said, "No! I mean, I'm not gonna kick you out. I guess, this was a misunderstanding since you probably thought I expected something from you, but I don't."

"Then why did you help me?"

"I just didn't like seeing you on the ground like that." He said, "I'm not a Saint but I always like helping others when I can. My parents taught me that. I would never take advantage of you, Hobie. Hobie? Hobie, are you alright?" Miles saw a tears coming down the punker's face.

"Yeah, I- it's nothing. God, I'm so stupid." Hobie wipes his tears, "I should go. I don't deserve-" Miles wraps his arms around his waist giving him a tight hug and said, "I'm sorry for making you feel this way. I don't want you to leave, please stay for the night. I don't think you're a bad person, Hobie."

"Thanks. Bambi. Means a lot." Hobie loved the way Miles' arms wrapped so tight around him not letting him go. It felt secure, safe, it reminded him of his older sister hugging him when his mother went on an abusive rampage. Feeling Miles' hug felt way stronger, he got the sense of protection and trust. Hobie's arms wrapped around Miles, wanting to feel him.

Hobie smells the light citrus cologne mix with the sweetness of cream and other spices. When they pulled away, Miles clears his throat, "Dinner is almost ready and you still need to put some clothes on."

"Right. I'll do that." Hobie quickly got off of him, his hand grab his towel from the floor, "Sorry, again."

"It's fine. Don't worry about it." Miles got up to head to the kitchen.

Hobie nodded before going back to Miles' room feeling his heart pounding, his hands trembling from the hug. It felt so nice to be cared. Then, he thought about the kiss; his heart race by the thought of Miles' soft confused lips tasting like sweet candy. "God, why I'm feeling this way?"

Miles on the other hand felt the same way, he had to stand in the kitchen to avoid Hobie from seeing his hard-on. He thought about sad things so his member will go limp, but his mind still raced about the kiss. Hobie is a handsome guy with an amazing body, and he did like how honest he is. "Come on, Miles. Relax. This was all a misunderstanding. You need to focus on serving dinner." Miles said to himself.

When his pot of rice and beans were ready, he started serving both plates and set them down on the small round table between the kitchen and living room. The table was set with two glass cups filled with ice and soda, and some sides of steak, retables and fried plantains. He also gave Hobie's side a glass of water with two painkillers.

The punker got out of the room just in time, Miles finished setting their dinner out. "Hey, you look good in them clothes." He smiles at the punker wearing a plain black oversize shirt and shorts with white sicks.

Hobie lift his shirt, "It's a bit big almost like pajamas..."

"They're made for comfort!" Miles said, "Dinner is ready. I set you some water and painkillers too."

"Thanks, Bams." The punker went to the table to sit down on his spot, he took the painkillers with water. Then his nose tickled at the wonderful smell of spices, onions and tomatoes. "Wow, smells amazing and looks amazing too." He saw his plate a large piece of steak on a bed of rice and beans with some vegetables seasoned with Soforito and tomatoes with a side of fried plantains. Rubbing his hands together, he quickly took his fork and started munching down his food. "Mmm, this is fucking delicious! Ohh, the steak is good. Real good."

The young man watched Hobie chowing down everything so fast that he blinks the plate was empty. "Mmm, is there more?"

"Yeah, let me serve you some rice and beans." Miles chuckles, "Dat good, huh?"

"Yeah, it's so delicious, Miles. I'm impressed." Hobie looks so cute like a happy puppy.

Miles took the plate to serve Hobie a mountain of rice and beans, then let Hobie take more steak and vegetables. "Um.. do you want more?" He asked noticing he's taking more food.

"Nah, I'm good. Besides, I can always make more." Miles ate his food on his plate, he wasn't that hungry.

"Alright. More for me." Hobie eats his fill.

"So, where you're from?" Miles asked, "If you mind me asking?"

"What are you talkin' about?"

"You got a British accent."

"Ah, I grew up in the Uk before moving here. The accent stuck." Hobie admits, "I lived in Harlem."

"Oh wow, really. And you live around here now?"

"More or less... sometimes Bronx, sometimes Queens." Hobie shrugs at his eat, "What about you?"

"Me?" Miles rub his neck, "I'm a Brooklyn native. My mom is from Puerto Rico and my dad is black and I was born here."

"So you know Spanish?"

"Ehh, I wouldn't say expert, but I know a few." Miles tries to show off.

Hobie chuckles, "And how old are you?" He stab his fork in a piece of steak and wiggling it in front from Miles as he talks. "You look very young like a lad."

"Oh yeah? I always got a baby face." Miles snickers, "You don't know how many times I get ID'd or people babying me."

"So how old are you?" Hobie asked.

"I'm twenty five." Miles answered.

"Hmm, I was going for nineteen."

"Ha, living in this apartment?" Miles asked.

"You just got that baby face and wearing that suit didn't help." Hobie took the slice of steak off the fork giving a chew.

"Well... yeah... my dad gave me his old suit and thought it would be a great gift. I need to tailor it." Miles rub his neck, "Though, I found it comfy, and finding suits in my size... I think my shoulders are too broad or something... never found one that fit right."

"So, you a business man working for the blood sucking fascist?"

"I'm a Graphic designer for Alchemax. As long as it pays good and I get free health insurance and PTO, I'm all good." Miles gave a slight chuckle, then asked, "And you? What's your age?"

"Add two into your age and there's your answer." Hobie mumbles while he chews.

"Twenty seven? You don't look older. I thought you were my age."

"Heh, it's nice being black, eh? We don't age like other people." He hums as he took his glass of soda to drink.

"Hahaha." Miles laughs before taking a bite his steak and rice and beans. "So, do you like watching A24 movies?"

"I don't watch movies as much..."

"Oh. We can watch a movie from my movie list if you want after dinner."

"Sure."

Miles looks pleased with this. When the two finished eating, Hobie helps wash dishes and clean the table top. It's the least he can do. The two went on the couch to watch a movie called Modsommar, Miles ended up snuggling tightly against Hobie through the whole thing. Hobie thought the movie was odd, but kinda stupid. Why would you go to a place you're not familiar with or aren't aware of their traditions and culture?

When the movie finished, Miles said, "Wow, that was creepy! It got so weird when the main girl drank that tea."

"I thought it was okay... not scary." Hobie chuckles, "I would never trust a bloke with family living in the middle of nowhere."

"Me neither." Miles yawns, "Whoa, look at the time. I better get ready for bed." He stretched his body out.

Hobie yawns feeling comfortable on the couch, "Your sleepy, Bambi?"

"Yeah, I got work tomorrow. So many projects to catch up. Mmm, gotta wake up early to go to a meeting." Miles rubs his neck giving a few cracks, "I'll do a quick shower. Do you need a toothbrush and pillow? You are sleeping here tonight, right?"

"Yeah." The punker being so cozy on the couch.

"Alright," Miles smiles happily with that fact, he went to get Hobie a toothbrush, "Here. You can brush your teeth first. I'll wait in my room. I need to get my clothes set for tomorrow."

"Sure thing, Bams." Hobie took his toothbrush and went to the bathroom. When he finished, he got out of the bathroom going to Miles' room who was busy laying his clothes out for work. "That tie with those pants?"

"Oh, I thought it would be fun. I guess, I shouldn't, huh?" Miles chuckles having a beige pants with a funky looking pattern on a tie. Hobie went over to pick a nicer tie with a dark purple color, "This one?"

"It's the pop of color you need." Hobie nodded then yawns as he lays on Miles' bed, "You should try it on."

"I would but I'm sleepy, I need to shower, too." Miles yawns feeling his eyes heavy.

Hobie yawns, "Mmm, this bed is pretty nice." He snuggle himself in the sheets.

"You can sleep with me if you want. Don't worry I'll stay on my side and you stay on your side." He said seeing Hobie already taking his side already ready for bed.

"Sure, Bams. I'll-" Hobie yawns again, then snuggles in a pillow, "sleep..." Slowly feeling his eyes heavy, he could smell Miles' scent on the pillow.

"Alright," The other man gave a small smile with his hands together, then quickly put his ready work clothes on his rolling chair. Then went to have a quick shower and brush his teeth. It wasn't long, since he wanted to sleep.

Miles felt his heart pounding at the punker sleeping next to him. Hobie is a cool guy with an interesting mysterious background, he wants to get to know him some more.

When he finished showering, he changed into his pajamas and head back to his bedroom. He saw everything was turned off, and a dim light from his lamp on his night stand illuminating Hobie's back side. The punker was already knocked out.

Miles got in the bed having to tuck himself in, his hand pressed the button to turn off his lamp leaving them in the dark. He could hear Hobie snoring out loud, "Heh, he's a cute guy, but loud snorer." Miles giggles in his head before snuggling his heavy quilt.

His back facing the punker's back, slowly feeling his eyes heavy. Sleep was already taking a hold of him, "It's been a long day."

He loves being in his bed all clean and warm, he needed this. Then, he felt Hobie's arms around his waist pulling close to him. "Huh?" Miles gasps feeling Hobie muttering to himself.

"Sleep talking?"

Miles turns around to feel Hobie quickly burying his face into his chest, he nuzzles against him. "You smell so good, Bambi." Hobie mutters still snoozing away.

"Heh, he's cute when he's not angry." Miles arms wrapped around Hobie's back letting him relaxed. His hand gently stroke the punker to sleep. "Goodnight, Hobie." He finally said before snoozing away. Hopefully tomorrow they'll start off on the right foot.

[jaidens]

No words appear before me in the aftermath

pairing [s] : dallas (dally) winston x reader

warning [s] : death | mentions of dallys family and life | addiction

a/n [s] : requests are open

Dallas wasn't a breath of fresh air for most.

The gang was some of the people that allowed him to be around. Darry kept him around because he knew that Pony and Johnny were even more protected when he was around. Dallas never had a nice family. His father was a die-hard drunk and his mother didn't try very hard to help his gambling addiction.

He has been out of jail since he was 10 years old, holding a reputation of not wanting to be around people in case they could be arrested. Socs obviously hated him, alongside all of his friends. Buck was really the only guy who could stand him.

It led him to a dangerous, rocky path of drinking and smoking. Nobody cared about him enough to tell him he was wrong for what he did. That was until he met you. You made sure he relaxed on his black-outs from drinking and parties. You were the light that grew from within his darkness.

His life was slowly being dragged onto the correct road.

You took care of him on his bad days. Brushing his hair and helping him wash up before dinner. You had been the only one that gave enough shits about him to care. Admittedly, he didn't know what to feel every time you helped him out. Love was a hard word for him to say. He felt it in many ways, but he had never been told it himself. Only time he had was whenever he gave more money to his dad to gamble away.

“Dally, hey wake up.” You shook his shoulder slightly, waking him up to the sun that shined on his face. “Doll.. why you’ waking me up? Somethin’ happening?” He sat up, pulling the blankets off the side of the bed. His hands run across his face as he wakes himself up. “Nothin’s happenin’ but do ya’ wanna watch the sunrise with me?” You ask gently, grabbing his hand.

Dallas smiles at you, noticing how you're clad with your favorite dress and Dally’s jean jacket. “Yeah. I'll go.” Dallas had never told anybody about his fascination with the morning and night sky. The sunrises and sunsets in New York always made him feel like a kid again and it took his mind away from the gangs and people that crawled on the street. He knew that Ponyboy, Johnny and Sodapop always went to look at them, and that gave him a sense of happiness. Knowing that people younger than him realized how to be happy.

He got ready as you made his bed. Dallas walked up behind you, arms snaking around your waist as he kissed you. You pulled away and he smiled at you. “C’mon. Let's go watch.” You tell him and pull his hand to get him outside of Buck's house. The air is nipping at your nose and you cross your arms over your chest and you sit down on the steps.

You can see the sun that is peeking through the horizon and you let out a gentle sigh. Your neck twists as Dallas sits down next to you with a cigarette lit in between his fingers. “Real beautiful, ain't it?” The thick New York voice pierces your ears and he hands you the cigarette. You decline quietly and speak up. “My Mama would always sit out on the porch and just watch. I never understood her but I think I do now. It's so calm.”

Dally nods, taking another puff and letting it out. “My dad would yell enough to get my brother outta’ the house and sit on the side of it. I would go out with him and he would just cry. He was older than me too, but he got shot in an accident in New York.” You hear the way his voice cracks, and it makes your heart hurt. Dally was so young and had gone through so much more than everyone else.

You arm wraps around him, pulling him in. “You are so strong. You've gone through so much and you're only seventeen.” It seems like the world wraps around you as Dally pushes his head into your shoulder. “Man..I like the way you're always there for me, man.” It almost feels like nothing could push between the way you and Dallas act. You're his rock and savior, you're always there for everything he needed. He needed the support and the help with his life. Dallas was sure he would be dead and in the ground if you weren't there for him, coaching him to be his best self.

“I’ll always be there for you, Dallas. I love you.” The last words feel like a punch in this face to him. Dallas can't help but feel his hands shake and his leg begins to bounce against the porch. You're staring at him with a sense of hopefulness in your eyes and Dallas can't chalk up the words to say it back. “I love you Dallas, and I'm not gonna force you to say nothing.” He lays his head against your chest whenever you hold your arms open to hug him. Dallas always loved listening to your heartbeat as you held him close to you, gently stroking his thick soft hair after a bad night of his.

“Buck is having a party tonight. Do you wanna go to it with me or are we gonna stay upstairs hoping no drunks go upstairs?” You laugh and Dallas pulls always to look at you. “I don't know babe, I think tonight we can stay upstairs.” You show him your seductive smile he can't help but melt looking at and he kisses you with a relaxed turn to his head and his hand against your waist. “Man, I was hoping you'd say that..” You can't help but push further into Dallas and his lips are a delicious poison you want to drown in.

It ends up with the sunset being cut short and dragged upstairs with feverant kisses and palming of hands. Dallas leaves after a round to go get a pack of cigarettes and a magazine for you, however, he didn't take his wallet which made you a little upset. He comes back with two boxes of cigarettes and two magazines for you to flip through while you would share a smoke with him.

Dallas lights a cigarette on his necklace and takes a big puff which he lets out a moan and he throws his head back. He hands the cigarette to you while you're reading and you smoke alongside him. “I just chose the first broad magazine I saw. Is it good?” You looked at him and nodded. “Yeah, it's mostly stuff about shoes and the new models. It's interesting.” Dallas lays against your shoulder and continues switching the cigarette between your lips and then blowing it into the air.

Eventually your eyes get heavy and you stare at the man lying against you, his cigarette burnt out on the ashtray. Dallas is wrapped around you with his head laying once more on your chest. Your eyes closing end the moment of relaxation and comfort. You wake up whenever Dallas wakes up at Buck screaming Dally’s name above the loud music that plays. “Some kids named Pony and Johnny are here for you. They looked rough.” He says before hitting the door frame and leaving.

“Baby, what's happening?” You ask him as he tugs on a pair of jeans around his hips. “Pony and Johnny man. They're outside. They don't do this type of stuff. Go ahead and get some blankets and clothes for them, maybe they need a place to sleep.” in nod at him and he leaves quickly. You take out some blankets and go and steal some of Buck’s shirts and pants for the boys. You can't help but feel some worry about the life and you're hoping whatever is happening isn't that bad.

Dallas brings them upstairs and Ponyboy is shaking like a leaf while Johnny is sucking in angry tears. “Man, get out of them clothes!” Dallas almost yells when Pony sits down on your bed with wet clothes. Pony pulls off his shirt and Dallas wraps a blanket around his shoulders and he continues shaking even with the warmth of the thick cloth. Johnny is shaking whenever Dallas pulls out his gun and hands them to Johnny.

Your eyes widen and you pull Dallas away from hearing the view of the boys. “What the hell is happening?” Dally ran his hand down his face and put his hands on his hips. “Johnny man, he killed Bob Sheldon.” That makes you cover your mouth and you feel weak before you fall Dallas grabs onto you and tells you to go get money and some things to bring and bag for them. You nod and wipe the tears that start from your eyes and follow your boyfriend’s orders.

Nothing feels real as you think of the boys, people you practically see as your sons, killed someone. You knew about Dallas’ instances that happened in New York, but the boys were smart to go to him. You have the stuff and you set it down and begin to pack it into a small bag that's able to be easily hidden. You're trying to grab your breath before you hand the bag to Ponyboy and he smiles at you.

You shake your hands to come in, and you wrap your arms around Johnny and Ponyboy and let out a sob. “Please— if it's all I ask, be safe. For me, for everyone please boys. I love you two so, so much. Call me if you need anything.” You tell Pony and Johnny and they smile and Pony says: “We love you too. I promise we'll be safe.” Johnny still doesn't understand how you, a complete sweetheart and the nicest person he's ever met is dating Dallas Winston.

Dallas tells you to leave the room for a minute while he tells them something. You're biting at your fingernails as you wait to go back into the room. The loud music and screaming doesn't help you relax until Dallas calls your name. The boys sit there and they look terrified and it hurts you; they're so young. Only sixteen and fourteen years old and had seen so much more than anyone else. You remember when Dallas was like that, a new and scared kid back in New York playgrounds.

You hug Pony and Johnny one more time, giving a soft kiss to their hairlines and you smile at them. “Be safe, and don't be stupid okay? Come home to me, please.” Johnny smiles at you and hugs you tightly in his arms. You remember Dallas telling you how Johnny admitted that he loved you and would protect you at all times. He saw you as his real mother instead of the drunk lady who he lived with.

The boys left and you were left in Dallas’ arms, practically shaking. “Awe, Dal. I'm worried, I'm completely terrified. What if they're not going to be okay?” Dallas hushes you gently and kisses you. “They’ll be okay, they're smart kids.” It calms your worries by a small amount but you can't still but barely get any sleep thinking about them.

Then: it hits the news. Two delinquent Tulsa teens are accused of murdering Bob Sheldon. Every time you pass by the stores, their faces are plastered everywhere. It makes you sad, honestly. Your two boys faces are still so young, and are being accused of such a horrible thing. Even if it was true, it hurt to see.

You get home to your house and call Dallas' name and nobody responds. You rush upstairs and drop your stuff, no sign of Dallas. You're begging and hoping he didn't get back into the cooler again. You call the police station and you ask if Dally was there, and they say no and joke if he needs to be. Okay, at least you know he isn't in jail. Where else could he be? It hits you, he went to go see the boys while you stayed here scared for your boys.

You're left in the dark for a day, nobody has called or even chosen to tell you about anything. You cried the entire day in complete worry about the people you cared about. Until, you get the call, “Is this Mrs. Winston? This is the Windrixville City Hospital calling about an incident including Dallas Winston, Ponyboy Curtis, and Johnathan Cade?” You almost dropped the phone, but you hold it to your heart and let out a yes, this is she.

Whenever the situation gets explained to you, you automatically begin to cry. Ponyboy had some burns and bruises, and Dallas had the same. However, your boy, Johnny was paralyzed from the neck down and was burned horribly. In these conditions, you shouldn't have been driving but you didn't care. You're crying and as soon as you park, you jump out of the car and run into the hospital.

“Dallas Winston, Ponyboy Curtis, and Johnathan Cade?!” You ask the receptionist and she starts looking through the documents slowly whenever you hear your name being called out. “Pony!” You run over to him and hug him tighter than you ever have, hand going behind his head as you cried in his arms. “You’re okay, that's amazing.” You're smiling at him before he tells you he can show you to Johnny.

Ponyboy shows you where Johnny is being cared for, and it's the saddest and most heartbreaking scene you've seen. His back is exposed and it's absolutely horrible and all you do is cry into Pony’s shoulder until Johnny pushes out your name. “Yes– yes I'm here sweet boy.” You say and you stare into the mirror below where Johnny is, eyes barely opened and he's obviously hurting. “I saved the kids today. Their lives were more important than mine, aren't they. I wasn't being dumb— swear.”

His words make you cry. “You are worth so much honey. Soon, you'll get better and I'll take you to a lake where me and Dally used to go. It's beautiful.” You promise and he pushes out an uncomfortable smile. Ponyboy sits there in silence and stares at his best friend, in a position he shouldn't have been in. If only he didn't pick a fight with those Socs, if he didn't choose to sit with Cherry that night — this would have never happened.

“I ain't ever gonna get better, man. I can't feel nothin’ from the neck down.” Johnny says quietly, sobs softly coming out of his mouth and you can tears that drop on the mirror below him. You sit down and pull up a chair right next to him and you gently touch his hair. “You’re gonna be okay, honey.” Pony sits down next to you, sobbing and covering his eyes with hid hand.

“Yeah, Johnny. You'll be okay, you're tough.” Ponyboy says while holding his hands together. Johnny says your name gently, with the rest of the power he has. “Go see Dally, I'll be okay.” You blow Johnny an air kiss and mumble out an ‘I love you, Johnny.’ You kiss your fist and you go find Dallas, praying that he was okay. You walked into a recovery room, a nurse and Dally were in there while Dallas argued about his hospital gown being on.

You cried out his name and ran up to him. “Doll, hey, hello. How's Johnny man?” You kiss him after he speaks, it's long and breathtaking. “God, I missed you so much. Johnny is.. not very good. He's really burnt up, it's heartbreaking.” Dallas frowns and holds you in his arms and groans at the pulled muscle in his back. “Stop arguing with your nurses, please.”

—

You're sitting at the Curtis’ house as you like your fingernails. Sodapop sits on the floor when you hear the door open. There stands Ponyboy, bruised and blond-headed. “Johnny’s dead.” He repeats it a couple more times and you begin to cry into Sodapop’s shoulder and he holds onto you. Steve stands there completely shocked and Two-Bit is gripping onto his jacket in his hands.

The phone rings and Steve picks up the phone. He mumbles to Darry, telling him it's Dallas and he needs to speak to you. Darry picks up the phone and says that the gang will be there. You're worried and biting at your skin around your nails as you follow the gang. You're running with the gang and you can see your boyfriend, running with police sirens and cars behind him. The police get out and you can see the outline of a gun.

You scream out his name and you hear it: gunshots. The young, seventeen-year old falls down on the ground with a scream. Darry yells at the police that he's just a kid. Everything feels silent in your head, you can't hear anything. You recognize that you're crying, and tears are running down your face, but you're completely gone.

You're standing still in the lot, and you're just staring. You're stuck there, left there, alone and numb. He was just a kid, and now he is dead.

[bucky-h0e]

A/N: The start of Bucky and Alpine's adventure in the 40s! I hope you all enjoy, please interact with the post if you do! I am always open to feedback

warnings: canon level descriptions of violence and injury, minor character death, illegal activities (Alpine is lying to everyone), Bucky and Alpine having a rough relationship tbh, Alpine bullies Peggy in the beginning, grieving Alpine is sad

Pimp My... Buzz Wagon? | Masterlist

Alpine Joins The Howling Commandos

Peggy knew as soon as she met the other Howling Cammandos that they would be a rag-tag group of troublemakers for the SSR

as soon as she saw them in that bar

drunk off their asses and singing like the drunkards they are, not a care in the world

she just knew

so when Steve put together this team and she had gone for her own little investigation and seen there was no medic on said team

she realises that although Steve is courageous, brave, loyal and trust worthy

a good man

he was also a bloody idiot

so, she another little investigation and found a medic for the team

Steve can heal as fast as he likes but he still has teammates with regular healing abilities that may require medical assistance

now Peggy des have a little crush on America's Golden Boy (fucking understatement of the decade) so she's a little particular about the medic she chooses

she wants them to be well read, keeping up to date with all medical advancements that had been happening throughout the war

she wanted them to be quick on their feet and not scared to improvise - lord knows they'd have to do a lot of that with the new weaponry being built by HYDRA

so when she hears of Doctor Andrew Doe, a Korean-American doctor making a name for himself in the front lines by experimenting and sharing his findings with the allied forces

she knows that this is the guy

imagine her surprise when she gets to the bases records show he's supposed to be in to find him gone

she'd managed to get a hold of someone, a young man looking as if he were in a rush but not wanting to be rude to the pretty lady who had ordered him to stand at attention

"Where is Dr Doe, I need to speak with him."

"I'm sorry ma'am, he died a few days ago."

well shit

there goes that plan

"His daughter has taken over his research and then some. Names Miss Alpine Doe. She's young looking, but the document's are legitimate."

oh great

so now her option is a young looking girl who needed her documents checking

just fantastic

how could it get worse?

"How young?"

"Certificate says 18 years ma'am."

a fucking child

brilliant

"Well then. Do you know where she is?"

"Yes ma'am, she was called out to one of the nearby bunkers, they got wound-"

a buzzing interrupts them, the unmistakable sounds of a siren and a vehicle honking as men surrounding them rush to the open area

the truck skids to a halt and the back doors burst open, a young girl climbing out and beginning to pull a stretcher out

"Get me plasma, bandages and morphine. I need as much as we can spare, poor bastard got shot to bits, lucky to be alive right now. Let's get him stable and home to his ma."

surprise was not the word Peggy would use to describe her current emotions, watching this definitely not 18 year old girl work and order the much older men surrounding her

and they listened

"Miss Doe has worked on all of us, ma'am"

it's the young man she'd caught before hand, she turns to look at him and he's got an awestruck look on his face

"Most of us came here wounded, Miss Doe saved most of our lives or at least stabilised us so we could get home to a hospital. She's a fine medic, if that's what you're looking for."

Peggy watches as Alpine and a few of the other men begin to walk back into one of the many tents which held beds for the injured

she can't get far though, before another two trucks come blaring through

perhaps this would be the perfect test

Peggy watches as Alpine assesses her situation, getting a nearby medic to hold the wound she had been previously, running to the first of the trucks

"GSW, left shoulder, straight through."

she turns to the second

"It's bad miss, explosive went off nearby, leg's basically gone."

tutting, she turns back to the tent just as two teams of three come racing out

"Philips, take the first one. Multiple GSW's, three exits. Find the shrapnel, get it out, get him stitched. Taylor, take the second. You,"

She turns to Peggy, a hard look in her eyes

"Get lost or start helping."

the fucking audacity of this kid, does she know who she's talking to

no absolutely not

does she care

fuck no

is Peggy equip to be a medic?

no, but does that mean she'll sit and let men die?

definitely not, so, she shucks off her coat, rolls up her sleeve and let's alpine guide her into help

and boy is that girl fucking bossy

and mean

"Press harder Carter, jesus do you want this man to bleed out?"

"The man's just lost his leg, give him the bloody painkiller!"

"They should make basic first aid a mandatory skill to learn when you become an agent. Oh wait, they do."

"Carter you're not wrapping a Christmas present for gods sake, faster!"

by the end of it, Peggy is pretty sure she's picked the right person for the job

if anyone was going to be giving medical aid to a group of sarcastic, stupidly cheery and sometimes grumpy men then it should be at least someone who could hold their own

so when all is said and done, they'd managed to get the poor man stabilised and Alpine was organising his immediate transfer out of the unit and to an actual hospital, Peggy approaches

"Miss Doe, I have a proposition for you."

"Unless it's to do with shipments of morphine, plasma, bandages, gauzes, tunicates and all the other supplies I've been badgering everyone about, I'm not intrested."

"I'd like to offer you a position in the Howling Commandos. You'll be working with Captain America, Steve Rogers and his team."

Alpine blinks at her

staring

not moving

before she gestures to the space around her

"I've got men dying as we speak and you want me to drop them just to work with a lab rat and his crew?"

"They need a medic, you are the only one qualified enough. I didn't know about your father, I'm sorry for your loss, but please do not let this be a wasted journey."

Alpine's eye twitches

"You helped save a man and it's a wasted journey?"

Peggy sighs and shakes her head, clearly she's approaching this girl wrong

"I'm simply saying- this isn't the opportunity to skip out on, especially for someone like you."

Alpine knows she's speaking of not only her age but also gender

this was the 1940s after all, not exactly the golden era for women in the military

or medical services

"You're incredibly talented. Captain Rogers and his team need someone like that to keep up with their absolute stupidity."

Alpine laughs, signing the papers she'd been working on and handing them to one of her colleagues before looking at Peggy and offering a smile

"I'm sorry Agent Carter. I made a promise to my eldest brother. No working with Captain America. After what happened with the 107th and the other forces, he's been a bit protective - as much as he can from the front lines. I'm afraid I can't go against my promise to him."

Peggy nods but takes a slip of paper and writes the details she'd need to contact her and hands it to her

"Please, if you change your mind before the war is done, don't hesitate to contact this number."

Alpine nods and the two separate, Alpine returning to her work in the bloodied clothing she'd arrived in and Peggy feeling like she needed a bath after helping remove a man's leg and stitch it up again

it's weeks later when Alpine contacts the number, she'd refused to give any details to the receptionist who picked up but instead managed to organise a way to their base in London

to say Peggy was shocked was an understatement

The Howling Commandos had all come into the meeting room for their first debriefing after destroying the first HYDRA base on Steve's list

and the need for a medic had never been more obvious

Dum Dum had a large gash on his arm and had refused to seek medical assistance, instead stating that it was 'just a graze, it'll heal over night'

absolute bullshit

even Bucky had told him to get help but the man refused, Steve had suggested getting it checked out before the briefing, just to get Peggy off their back (to ease her concerns) and again Dum Dum had refused

imagine the absolute rage on Peggy's face

honestly, these men were the reason's she'd found a grey hair that morning she was sure of it

not that she'd ever mention anything to anyone

ever

She was about to order the man to seek help when the door to the briefing room opened to reveal a worn out Alpine

covered in less blood than when Peggy had left her, eyes darkened with loss and large bags settling in her undereye

her hands were dirty, holding tightly onto two letters, and she looked frailer

younger

weaker

"Sorry for the interruption Agent Carter, but she said she had an appointment and insisted-"

"It's quite alright. Miss Doe is a friend."

as she moves closer to the girl, the rest of the men surrounding them take the opportunity to study her

and bucky is in shock

what the hell is a child doing in their briefing room?

seriously, she was what 16? (15 - but he didn't need to know that)

she's there, blood splattered on her sleeves, dirt in her nails and her hair thrown up in a ratty bun

she looked like she came straight from the front lines

but she should have been at home

with her parents

why the hell, was she here?

"I'd like to take you up on your offer, Agent Carter."

Jesus even her fucking voice was a tell-tale sound that she was underaged

and Peggy had made her an offer?

for what?

"I take it your brother changed his mind?"

ah so she had a guardian at least

"My brother died, ma'am."

fuck

"Miss Doe.... I'm sorry."

there's a shared moment of silence for the loss before Alpine is looking up and trying to smile at her

"So, if your offer still stands, I'd like to take it."

Alpine spies Dum Dum's arm and thanks god that she carries a satchel of supplies with her everywhere

she'd sold rations for them and was sure she got some odd looks off of people for it but she didn't care

better safe than sorry

Peggy gives her arm a gentle touch before turning to address the men who had been staring at her, a pissed off Bucky included

"Gentlemen, this is Alpine Doe. A little younger then you're all used to-" bucky scoffs, Steve elbows him "-but a great medic nonetheless! She'll be joining you, no arguments."

her words are final and the rest of the team seem fine with it

they jump up, everyone greeting and shaking her hand

normally she'd love meeting people who weren't screaming in her face, but she can't bring herself to truly enjoy the moment, despite the pleasant smiles and pats on her shoulders

Steve offers his hand and she takes it, smiling at him

"Good to have you. We'll take good care you you, like you will us I'm sure."

Bucky is glaring at all of them

they're all idiots

he knew that but jesus

are they truly THIS stupid?

"Are we ignoring the fact that she's an actual child?"

he didn't realise he spoke

truly

he thought he'd spoken to himself

but it came out

and it came out harsher than what he would have liked it

no stopping now, someone had to stand up for the kid

her brother obviously didn't want her here

"I'm 18, Sergeant Barnes."

"And I'm the King of England."

they stare at each other, glaring really

Bucky can see the tears building in Alpine's eyes

he didn't think he was pushing too much

but then again

SHE'S A CHILD

he doesn't push too hard after seeing the tears, actually takes a minute step to comfort her before she's turning her attention to where Dum Dum had sat, now tending to the gash on his arm

distracting herself from the overwhelming frustration building in her stomach

Bucky turns to Phillips

"You're signing off on a kid working with us? Going into HYDRA bases? With their weapons, what's the use of a medic?"

Phillips sighs and shakes his head, frustrated with the entire situation to be honest

"You're still using regular explosives, regular bullets. They ricochet, debris exists, you get a cold, she's there to keep you healthy and on your feet."

"Now, because she's a medic, she'll be a non-combatant member of the Howling Commandos, the only one."

what

the

fuck

honestly

the world has gone to shit at this point

"So let me get this straight. She's an underaged girl-"

Alpine goes to correct him, but he points an accusatory finger at her that shuts her up because it reminds her of her brother

"-that you've let become a medic in the army and now, you're putting her, unarmed, up against weaponry that quite literally vaporises whoever it hits?"

"She's done it before Sergeant, now one more outburst from you and I'll be forced to take disciplinary action!"

Steve elbows him again and he shuts up

he wants to fight for this girl but can't let Steve go out there alone

he hates the fact that this girl is clearly in over her head

and everyone is just letting her

it reminds him of the Steve he knew before the serum

the one who would stop at nothing to get into the war

the one who faced prison for lying on his enlistment papers

was he truly the only person who saw this all for what it was?

the leading of a lamb to slaughter for their own goddamn advantage

that much was shown when they moved out to their next base after the debrief

Alpine had avoided them all after patching up Dum Dum, whose arm had healed beautifully

she went straight home after the meeting and only saw them all again when they were meeting for the plane back abroad

even then, she kept to herself and refused to speak

Bucky would glance over occasionally from where they sat on the plane, watching her read and re-read the same two letters in her hands which she carried in her pockets when her hands were busy working

Steve had sat next to her, trying to coax her into a gentle conversation but she'd answered with little words and left not room for the conversation to continue

when she wasn't reading the letters or working on someone, she was writing in a little blue journal, with a black journal open and glancing between them both

she'd scribble in the black one occasionally but for the most part, the blue journal was the only one she wrote in

what she was doing Bucky didn't know

but it was clear it was important to her

occasionally the others would tease her, trying to get her to open up

but again, they were being blind to the truth about this girl

she was a child and she was grieving

he could see it in the way she's hold her breath when she read the letters

wiping away unshed tears and pulling at her hair

Bucky sighs, nodding to Steve and making him swap seats with him in the tight aircraft, causing everyone to glance up at them

he settles next to Alpine, nudging her when he sat and played it off like he hadn't noticed

if no one else was going to support her

then he'd have to do it himself

[tbhimnoteasyonmyself]

📖💜 AO3 MASTERLIST 💜📖

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Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding

Sleep? X Slip! O (Ishida Tomoya X Mitsuya Ayumu - Teen & Up [Sex] - 7.230 Words)

The rush of the approaching Christmas season always gets the best of everyone. Ishida Tomoya was no different. And in between a manuscript and a conversation with his coworkers, sleep wins the battle and makes him slip up. But it’s okay, it’s not like no one knows he’s dating the most beloved chef in the whole country, right? RIGHT? OR In a world where people are still mostly heteronormative, even the most heartfelt confessions sometimes fail to convey the information they are meant to. Luckily, capitalism is here to provide sleep deprivation to young editor Ishida Tomoya and make him reveal to an office full of people that he’s very much in love with Mitsuya Ayumu.

Naruto

How It Should've Been (Narusasu/Sasunaru - Mature [Hate Speech/Mental Illness/Trauma/Violence] - 2.683 Words)

Naruto married Hinata in canon... But cannons are made to destroy our ships. So, obviously, that never happened. OR A collection of drabbles of Naruto and Sasuke that all happen in the same universe (but are all out of order because my creativity does not do logic) and which (hopefully) will be entertaining.

PitBabe

Icarus & the North Star (Northsonic - Teen & Up [Sex] - 2.730 Words)

North is a guiding direction. The North Star is a guiding light. And yet, North is just… Himself. Or, at least, that's how everyone sees him: a simple man with a simple mind. Everyone but Sonic, that is. Sonic would never dream to see him in that light. OR A stream of consciousness from Sonic’s perspective about who North is and what North means to him.

The Gifted

(Don't) Touch Me! (Pangwave/Wang - Teen & Up [Crime] - 14.472 Words)

5 times someone tried to hug Wave and failed miserably (some more than others) + 1 time someone (guess who) finally (somewhat) managed to OR The narrative of what happened with Wave when Pang couldn’t remember a single thing about the Gifted Program, told through his aversion to physical contact.

The Untamed

Desperate Pleasures (Chengsang/Sangcheng - Mature [Alcohol Abuse/Sex/Violence/Trauma] - 8.000 Words)

They don't really mean for it to start happening when it does. Yet what are one’s drunken actions if not the desires one did not have the courage to give into sober? It is better not to think about it, though. They are what they are and they do what they do. And that's good enough. No need for labels or reasonings or long conversations about indefinable concepts, no... None of that. Just them. As they are. Just them is good enough. OR How Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang find solace in each other through the years in ways that are probably too complex and nuanced to put into words outside people would understand but that make sense to them, nonetheless.

Fine Lines (Jiang Cheng POV - Teen & Up [Death/Trauma] - 3803 Words)

Sect Leader Jiang rarely has little to do. But when he does, he likes to take walks through Lotus Pier and return to the only place he thinks will not judge him for how his soul is still shattered: the past. OR Jiang Cheng takes a walk through Lotus Pier and observes the place through the lenses of someone who knows both the old and new walls. These are his thoughts.

[docockbrainrot]

ghost of you

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Billy Hargrove

Description: Steve visits Billy's grave for a quiet moment of introspection, hindsight, a bit of regret and an even smaller bit of a fond memory.

CW: Angst, Hurt/No Comfort, Coping With Death, Grieving Process

Word Count: 2.6k

Song Rec: Ghost (cover) by Josiah and the Bonnevilles + Everything's An Illusion by Mayday Parade

A/N: This is pretty sad y'all I'm sorry in advance but I'm still coping too dammit. There is a bit of a sweet behind the bitter though I promise.

AO3 Link: Here

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There's something that seems perpetually wrong about Billy's death. A morbid, cruel happenstance of fate wrapped in the gentle embrace of the early Midwestern summer. Cicadas drone and sing and the town is filled with flowers and beauty and life. Even now, weeks later, as the season breaks and begins to give way to fall. This isn't right. The sun still shines and the grass is still green, verdant and freshly shorn around the headstone. The universe didn't stop to grieve for Billy Hargrove while Steve feels like his life has been a VHS tape that's been warped beyond repair. Ending unseen, trapped behind the garbled static. Unable to move past that one point where the recording was absolutely fucked indefinitely, the VCR choking on its busted mouthful. His world coming to a grinding halt like screeching tires on asphalt.

He kneels in front of the grave for what must be the hundredth time, silently arranging the small bouquet of flowers underneath the chiseled epitaph. He leans back on his haunches, studying the letters like he hadn't memorized them months ago. A finger reaches out to trace the carving of dates, letter by letter, number by number. His throat feels tight. So young, is usually the first thought that swells emotion within him when he gives himself too much time to think about it. How easy it was to forget most of the time with how Billy acted. How he was really just the same age as Steve. 

Or maybe it made the most sense of all. 

Billy was barely more than a child. A high school student. And he certainly knew how to throw tantrums like a spoiled brat. Steve purses his lips and settles into the grass with his legs crossed, fingers drumming an irregular beat on his knees, a compulsive tapping of nerves. No, that isn't right. Billy wasn't spoiled by any means. Maybe he was a bit of a brat. But Steve knows the truth now. The glimpse beyond the curtain that veiled Billy's life from view, visible only in his death. 

Steve wishes he had known sooner. Maybe he could have helped. Maybe he wouldn't have been such an antagonizing piece of shit. Maybe in another timeline they could have been friends. Maybe they could have been more than that. 

He squashes the thoughts just quickly as they surface, just as the tears threaten to sting his vision and make his stomach knot. "You're a fucking asshole, you know that?" Steve whispers into the ether, sniffling, bringing a hand up to wipe at his eyes as he glares at the headstone. He doesn't always talk to him. After all, he isn't so naive enough to believe Billy might be listening. So mostly he sits. A contemplative reverie of hindsight and things that can't be changed. Sometimes he brings nothing but his gratitude on days when he's struck with the very tangible realization that he, and the (Steve's) kids, and his family and friends and town and possibly the world would have all gone down in flames if Billy hadn't sacrificed himself. The gratitude feels a lot like survivor's guilt today. 

Some days he can't shake the grief.

There was an instance (and God help him it feels like another lifetime, like it happened to someone else, like peering into the window of a house that didn't belong to him). It plays like a recording seared into the backs of his eyelids. 

The Hargrove boy was flat drunk, barely able to keep himself on his feet but still with enough gumption about him to heckle anyone who tried to have something to say about it and enough moxie to grab the ass of every unsuspecting broad that didn't have the foresight to keep a healthy perimeter distance from him.

It was at a party. Probably. Steve can barely recall the minute details now and it's reminiscent of when the fog rolls in, low and heavy, usually on chilled winter mornings, and he would iron grip the steering wheel of his beloved German made sedan while crawling through the backwoods roads, headlights swallowed up in the mist. 

Billy had dropped his car keys four times in succession. Steve watched on like it was a particularly interesting trainwreck, arms crossed, shaking his head. Unable to look away, but Jesus Christ, what a disaster. It was when Billy finally managed to stagger over to the Camaro, attempting (perhaps futilely) to fit the key into the door lock that Steve rolled his eyes and made the executive decision to intervene. Since no one else was going to. Why did he always have to be the voice of reason? 

"You can't seriously drive home like this, dude." His hand caught Billy's wrist and he almost choked on his bout of heroic courage when their eyes met. Smoldering, roiling oceans of blue, so dark in the cover of night that Steve suddenly understood how it felt to be lost at sea with no land in sight. He recoiled from his drunken adversary as quickly and abruptly as if he had been burned on contact and immediately raised both hands defensively in the universal display of 'I surrender, I am not here to fight'. 

"What's it to you?" Billy's words all but slurred together and he swayed a bit where he stood, finally giving up at some point and leaning against his vehicle for physical support. "Since when do you fuckin' care what I do, Harrington?" He spat the name like a curse, a sneer on his lips, though it lacked the true vehemence their encounters typically induced. 

Steve wonders now if he has looked a little harder then, would he have been able to see the cracks? Maybe if he had known what to look for. Would he have seen Billy spilling out from the chips in himself? In retrospect it's so easy to catch. Every moment where Billy almost slipped, almost… every almost. Every it should have been different.

"I don't care what you do, man, you just- you can't drive like this. You're gonna hurt someone," Steve rationalized it easily. Of course. Billy shouldn't drive drunk because… of other people. That was the only logical explanation for the nerves that made Steve's belly knot. "I can… I can drive you home." 

"Ha. No," Billy barely waited for Steve to get his sentence out before shutting it down. His keys are still gripped in his shaking fingers with a force that made Steve wonder if he should be worried about getting shanked with them. 

Posthumously, some of the dirty details had come out. Not all. But some. Steve knows enough to believe that Billy's father was the reason he didn't want to be driven home that night. Steve wonders what the consequences could have been.

"Well– God, come on. You could–" Steve struggled for longer than he would have liked all while Billy just stood there. Unreadable. "I can take you… back to my place. You can crash on the couch. And I'll drive you back to get your car in the morning." More challenging than asking any girl out, harder than any fucking thing he had ever done, harder than fighting demons from Hell itself and all just to get told to go fuck himself– he's deflating before Billy even responds–

"Fine. Whatever," resignation but consenting was the flat, muttered answer, "pick up your fucking jaw, Harrington." Steve didn't realize his mouth had fallen open in the shock of the turning tides of the situation and he just stared for a moment as Billy shoved his keys haphazardly into the pocket of his beer-soaked jeans, not waiting up for his newfound chauffeur before shuffling off to Steve's car. It was unlocked. He let himself into the passenger seat and slammed the door so hard it made Steve physically cringe. 

The drive was… largely uneventful. The cab of the BMW smelled of alcohol and cigarettes and Billy's cologne. Steve's hands were damp with sweat the entire way and anxiety threatened to chew a hole through his guts. Billy looked like he was asleep, arms folded over his stained beater tank and his head resting against the window, eyes closed… Peaceful. They had pulled up to a stop sign and Steve took maybe a moment too long of glancing at Billy's resting form. 

"Like what you see, Harrington?" Billy's eyes were open suddenly, boring into him with an undecipherable expression. And just like that, Steve hit the gas pedal a bit too jarringly, not even justifying the jab with a rebuttal of any kind. It was a good thing it was dark. His face was searing with humiliation and he was staunchly silent for the remainder of the trip. 

Billy was drunk, Steve still tries to tell himself. To this day, that's the excuse he uses. Billy was so fucking drunk. He didn't know what he was saying. And saying it like that… It felt like an invitation. With that look on his face. How many times since then has he played out a scene in his head of the way that night could have gone if he had just fucking said something. Anything. 'As a matter of fact, I do like what I see. Is that a problem, Hargrove?' But he didn't. That's not how the story goes. And it wouldn't have changed the ending.

In fact Steve didn't say much at all for the rest of the night. He didn't help Billy out of the car and just let him all but stumble into the house. He ignored the mocking remarks Billy made about his cushy digs, just very sternly told him "Don't break anything, don't steal anything," as he shoved a pillow and blanket to Billy's chest and pointed him towards the couch in the living room. Just as he thought his nerves couldn't be frazzled any further in one single encounter, as Steve went to turn away and head upstairs, it was Billy's turn to grab his wrist. Steve looked back, brow furrowed, a quizzical expression on his face–

"Good night, Steve." 

And the manacle-like grip was released and Billy was shuffling towards the couch, leaving Steve dumbfounded and speechless. 

Steve remembers not saying it back. He remembers playing Billy's voice saying his name (his first name) on repeat in his mind. He remembers going up and taking the coldest shower of his life for way too long before crawling into bed and not falling into any sort of really restful slumber. He remembers fighting the urge to go downstairs nearly the entire night. He must have fallen asleep sometime in the early hours of the wee morning because when he finally went to check on Billy, he was gone and Steve wasn't awake to hear the front door open and shut. He remembers the mixed swirls of emotions that flooded through him as he stood barefoot in his living room, staring down at the sofa with the pillow and blanket perfectly folded on the armrest. 

Steve never asked if Billy actually stayed all night and left early or… if he snuck out the moment Steve went to bed. Maybe while he was in the shower. He'll never know– they absolutely never spoke of it again. Like ships in the night, the opportunity was gone. Now, well… Now he suspects that Billy did steal something that night. Something that was buried with him when he was lowered into the earth, like a priceless artifact to be taken into the afterlife.

"Why were you always making things so difficult?" He sighs, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. Idle fingers of one hand reach down and tug on some of the lush, perfectly manicured grass. Steve's gaze wanders down the rectangular stone until they meet with the earth. His belly starts to turn again with the unpleasant reminder that Billy's body is buried just six measly feet beneath him. Closed casket funeral. He was a fucking mess after all. Morticians aren't miracle workers. Suppose by now though not much is left. Steve swallows down the bile that rises in his throat and he blinks rapidly to dispel another fresh flood of burning tears. Just rot and bones and worms and dust and… death. That's all that's left of him. 

It's not fair. Steve presses his hand against the warm, springy grass, feeling the healthily moist soil on his palm. He curls his fingers into the dirt and imagines digging his way down to him, inch by filthy, tepid inch, unearthing him nail by fucking nail from the coffin until he could be buried down there too. It wasn't even a particularly nice service, really. It was fine, sure, as far as a hick town funeral goes for an outsider. Small. Max cried almost as much as Steve had. 

"You deserved better, California boy." A dry, hollow chuckle. 

Movie star looks and a shotgun attitude only get you so far in Hawkins, Indiana though. Steve sniffles and scrunches his nose a bit as he squints up at the sky, into the sun that's starting to make its descent towards the horizon. He stretches out his legs just enough to grant himself access to his jeans pocket, from which he pulls out a pack of cigarettes. Flipping it open, he sticks one between his lips and lights it with the zippo lighter Max had given him from Billy's room when they were cleaning it out. Neil didn't want to keep anything. Steve wishes he had taken more. He takes another cigarette out and doesn't spark it, just sets it on the ground carefully next to the bouquet of flowers he brought. 

Steve smokes in complete quiet. The vapor trail twists and curls through the air and he imagines it a bit to be like the phantom that follows him everywhere he goes. Billy's presence, his memory, his everything. Lingers like the obnoxiously cheap cologne he used to wear. Steve could smell it from down the hall at school. At the time it made him scoff and grimace at the stench, but now the nostalgic craving drives a homing missile of aching through his chest cavity, seizing his heart with a piercing grip. He thinks of their short car ride together to Steve's house after that stupid fucking party. He takes another long, slow drag, embers flaring. His fingers are trembling. They didn't used to do that. 

Grinding the stump of the cigarette butt into the soil and then shoving it back into the packet so as not to litter in a cemetery of all places, Steve finally gets to his feet, wobbly at first from sitting for so long. His lips are dry and cracked and he wets them a bit with his tongue before leaning over and resting a firm hand on the top of the headstone. Sunbaked and almost hot to the touch. His thumb strokes over the shiny granite for the barest hint of a moment. "See you later, Hargrove," he murmurs before withdrawing, hands slipping into the pockets of his Levi's.

As he turns away to make the trek back to the Bimmer parked at the base of the hill, the wind picks up, ruffling through his hair with the promise of cooler weather in the coming weeks. Goosebumps prickle the back of his neck and arms, raising the fine hairs there. Inexplicable. Spectral. Like breath against his nape, ghosting lips on his skin. Steve doesn't look back.  

The breeze stirs the crimson petals of the floral arrangement left at the hilltop grave akin to a familiar voice whispering his name in the middle of a dark, moonless night. The cathartic visage of a beacon, guiding the way back to where Steve's heart was laid to rest, like a porch light at dusk, calling him home. 

A perfect dozen vibrant red roses rustle gently in the temperate afternoon air. And the world goes on. 

[neonlights92]

RUN: CHAPTER VI

Jeon Jungkook hops from bed to bed, sleeping with as many beautiful, rich women as he can possibly find time for.  He’s young and attractive, with a silver tongue that gets him practically anything he wants.  So when his friend and boss, Kim Taehyung, tells him it’s time to settle down, Jungkook takes it pretty badly.  And when he finds out that the woman he’s destined to marry is, in fact, his little sister’s best friend, he is less than impressed.

You have spent your entire life trying to forget the way you feel about Jeon Jungkook.   So when you find out that Jungkook is to be your husband - and that he is anything but pleased about it - your world is thrown into chaos.  How can you survive a loveless marriage with the man you are hopelessly in love with?

WARNINGS: Language, some violence and smut

A/N: Final chapter friends!! Hope you enjoy it.  We’ve still got the epilogue to go and then onto Joonie!

When you woke up with a start it was on a cold, stone floor.

Your body felt like it had been run over by a truck.

You could barely see anything - but you could smell burning - and you tasted ash.

Where the fuck were you?

“Hello?”  You tried to move around and realised your hands were held together with what felt like rope, “Is anyone there?” Panic settled in your chest as you realised the situation you were in.  It wasn’t looking hopeful.

Your mind drew back to the car crash - the men who’d pulled you and Namjoon out of the wreck - 

Namjoon.

Your heart felt like it might very well fall out of your ribcage.  Was Namjoon okay?

The last you could remember he’d seemed very much unconscious.  You winced.

Shit.

What the hell was going on?

Before you could try to even begin to answer that question - the door to the room you were in swung open and light flooded your surroundings.  You realised quickly you were in some kind of storage room - and you had been chained to some pipes sticking out of the wall.

“Seems our guest is awake.” Your blood ran cold at the voice.

You’d heard it only once before - but you’d never forget it.

Violetta.

“Y/N was it?”  She took a step towards you and flipped a switch - lighting the room up. 

Your chest tightened at the look on her face.  

Unfiltered anger.

“What are you doing?” Your voice sounded like sandpaper, “What’s going on?”

“Surely you’ve seen enough movies to know what a kidnapping is.”  She smirked - cold and cruel, “Or do I need to talk you through it?”

You coughed then, feeling bile climb up your throat.

“Jungkook will kill you -” “When he finds out.”  She rolled her eyes, coming to crouch in front of you, “Yes.  I’ve heard it all before.” Her eyes flickered across your face.

“Not even beautiful,” She scoffed, “What’s the point?”

You felt something akin to fear shiver down your spine.

“What are you going to do with me?” “Oh.  I’m not going to do anything, darling.  I don’t call the shots here.  I just called in… A tip.”

“Jungkook will kill you.”

She pulled a face then - of mock pity. 

“Oh you poor thing.  You think he cares about you?”  She rose a dark brow, “God.  You really are smitten.” Maybe before - when you were insecure, when you weren’t sure what Jungkook felt for Violetta… You might have let her words move you.  You might have even believed her.

Believed that Jungkook didn’t care about you.  That you were disposable to him - a toy.

But you knew better. 

You’d heard the relief in his voice when you called him.  You remembered the things he had said - how he wanted to protect you and keep you safe.

Namjoon was right.  Jungkook was a dickhead, but he cared about you.

“Anyway.  I can’t tell you what they’re going to do,” She shrugged carelessly, “You weren’t the real target.  Namjoon was.  What a blessing you were with him though.”

Her eyes narrowed and you noticed for the first time how cold they were… Lifeless almost.

“Why would you call in a tip about Namjoon?  What has he ever done to you?” “I just needed to get Jungkook’s attention.  Thought this might work,”  She flipped her hair across her pale shoulders, and stood, “He’ll definitely know I had something to do with it.” Your mind was racing - was Namjoon alright?  You were hit with sickening dread as you considered the possibility that your friend might be hurt… Or worse, dead.

“What have you done with him?” You asked, throat dry, “You know Jungkook will never forgive you if something happens to him.” She shrugged and inspected the bed of her nails, as though you were boring her.

“I don’t much care for what he thinks about me now,” She licked her teeth and shot you a cold glare, “I just wanted to hurt him back in kind.”

And without another word, she stalked away from you - hovering in the doorway for a moment before turning back to give you something like a smile.

“I know you think you love him,” She said to you - voice cutting straight through your core, “But he’ll never love anymore more than himself.” She looked almost like she felt sorry for you.

“I hope you know that.” And then she slammed the door shut, and you were left alone.

It was hours before anyone came back to see you.  First it was a guard with some food and water.  He was stoic and unresponsive as you asked time and time again who he worked for - what they wanted from you.

You had been crying for hours by the time Namjoon was thrown in beside you.  He crumpled on the floor in agony, and you noticed immediately how much he was building.

The man who had pushed him stood snarling in the doorway and you felt your heart freeze in your chest at the condition your friend was in.  You couldn’t even help him - chained to the pipe as you were - and so all you could do was watch helplessly as he writhed in pain.

“Simmer in your wounds for a little while,” The guard grunted, “Let’s see if you feel like talking when the pain sets in.” His eyes flickered to yours and you felt sick from what you saw in them.  Pure hatred.

The door slammed shut and you were alone with Namjoon.

He still hadn’t sat up - he was clutching his stomach in pain - and his head was bleeding.  You couldn’t assess how bad the situation was - and you felt bile rise to your throat at the look on your friend’s face.

He looked like he was dying of pain.

“Namjoon!  Namjoon.  Please it’s me, Y/N.  Can you talk?” “Y/N,” He rasped, eyes cracking open as he stared back at you - your heart turned in your chest at the way he was looking at you, “I can’t feel my fingers.”

Your gaze snapped down to his hands and you realised he hadn’t been clutching his stomach - he’d been shielding his fingers.  They were mangled and broken and this time when the bile rose to your throat you couldn’t stop it.

When you were finished throwing up Namjoon smirked tiredly, “That bad huh?” “Joon…”  You were crying now. 

The situation was dire wasn’t it?  Was there any hope you’d come out of this alive - in one piece?

Namjoon had pushed himself up against the wall, cradling his broken hand, and staring mindlessly at the ceiling.

“It’s Byun Baekhyun’s sister.” Your eyes snapped to Namjoon’s.

“What?” “The person who’s doing all this,” He added voice shaking with pain, “It’s Baekhyun’s sister.  She wants retribution for her brother’s death.  For the demise of EXO.  Seems she was able to string together some EXO loyalists and, of course, Violetta.”

“What does she want then?” You asked, watching as Namjoon placed his broken hand on the floor, “Is she going to kill us?” “She wants information.  To take down Bangtan. I suppose she thinks she’ll be able to break me, eventually.”  He shrugged and cringed at the pain, “I don’t know.” “Are you going to be okay?”  You were so concerned - so scared, “Your hand…” “It’s you I’m worried about,” He replied honestly, and his eyes searched your own carefully, “Whatever they do Y/N… Don’t give up anything.  The moment they think they have what they need from you, your dead, okay?” Your heart thundered against your chest.

No, no, no.  You weren’t a warrior.  You couldn’t do this.

Why was this happening to you? You felt dizzy - the world was spinning - would you faint?  Your eyes struggled to focus.

“Y/N.  Listen to me.”  Namjoon’s voice centred you.  You looked up, “I know you can do this okay.  Trust yourself.  Do this for Jungkook.”

The door swung open and the same guard from earlier glared down at you.

“Boss wants to see you, Princess.”  His voice sounded like nails scratching across a chalkboard.  Your  chest tightened, but you fought against the panic.

You couldn’t let him see you were scared.

You set your face like stone as he untied you, eyes moving to meet with Namjoon’s frantically.  He gave you a small smile - a vote of confidence - and you pushed past the fear.

You could do this.

You could do this.

“So you're Jeon’s wife, huh?”  The guard pushed you out into the hallway and grabbed you by the shoulders, “Does he fuck you like he has half of Seoul?” You supposed this was some kind of psychological torture - intended to further break you down.

Why would you stay loyal to a man who treated you like a mistress? But you knew who you married.  You knew whose bed you shared.

And whether he could admit it to himself or not - you knew Jungkook loved you too.

You said nothing.  You set your  jaw.  You locked your eyes on the door at the very end of the long, winding corridor.

You ignored the brush of his beard against the bare skin of your cheek as you walked.

He reeked of beer.

Of course he did.

“I think he even fucked a few EXO girls if I’m honest,” He sounded drunk - slurring, “Rumour has it he’s got a massive cock.  Care to confirm?” You pressed your lips tighter together.  

“Cat got your tongue lovely?”  He chuckled darkly, “Well.  We’ll see how long that lasts.” He opened a door to your left and pushed you inside, and your eyes moved to meet with the glare of a woman sat behind a metal desk.

“Please.  Sit.”

You didn’t have a choice, obviously.  You were forced into the seat roughly, and you winced when the bone of your elbow snapped as the man handling you handcuffed you to the chair.

“Thank you Taeil,” The woman looked up at the guard and smiled briefly, “That will be all.” He bowed and shot you another smirk, before disappearing.  When the door clicked closed, the woman sighed heavily.

“I’m sure Namjoon has told you who I am.”  Her voice was business-like, “But in case he hasn’t.  My name is Sana.” Her eyes cut through you like glass.  You shifted.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” You pinched the skin of your thigh - forcing yourself not to give in to the anxiety rushing through your veins.  She couldn’t know how you felt.

“You broke his hand,” Your voice was bolder than you thought it would be, “He’s in so much pain.” “I admit.  Taeil can be a brute.”  Her eyes gave nothing away, “But he won’t die from it.” “He might lose his hand.” “A price we pay to live in a world like this,” She shrugged, “I’m sure you’re aware that Kim Taehyung killed my brother.  He’s the only person  I care about hurting, or killing.  If you help me find him, I’ll let you both go.”

Your ears were roaring, “Bangtan is my family.  What makes you think I would ever dishonour them like that?” “Because you must be sick and tired of being treated like shit,” Sana’s face was like stone - you had to admit a small part of you was impressed.  How did she keep it so well hidden?

“What are you talking about?” “Jungkook.  Your husband.  His infidelities.”

Once upon a time those words would have sent you in a tailspin.  Now you forced yourself to stay calm.

“You won’t get me to betray them,” You answered honestly, “You’re wasting your time.”

She considered you for a moment - eyes raking you carefully, slowly, like she was coming to some kind of a decision.  Afterwards, she clasped her hands in front of her and sighed heavily.

“Remember I tried to be kind.”  She told you, as she stood, making her way to the front door and knocking once, “Taeil.”

The portal opened and Taeil was stood grinning drunkenly, “Yes ma’am?” “She’s all yours.”  Her eyes flicked to yours, once and she shrugged, “I don’t think it will take long.” Taeil’s eyes lit up with glee and you felt your stomach drop with a sickening thud. He was carrying a suitcase.  You knew what that meant.

What kind of horrors suitcases like that, held.

 He stepped inside the room and your anxiety rose once again, feeling like it might overwhelm you.

When the two of you were alone, he made his way towards you and you found your heart rising to your throat.  You were panicking from the look in his eyes.

You’d seen that look before.  Like a predator stalking his prey.

Like he was going to eat you up.

“Stay away from me,” You warned, voice cracking, “My husband will kill you -” He slapped you, once, across the face.  Your chair screeched back from the force of the hit and when you turned to look at him you found your eyes couldn’t focus.

He’d disorientated you.

“God.”  He growled, cracking his knuckles, “I can already tell this is gonna be fun.”

You shook your head, feeling tears come to your eyes as he grabbed you by the hair and yanked your hair backwards.

“Open up princess,” He grunted, shoving his fingers into your mouth and prying your lips open, “I’m just going to take this for good luck, okay?” He tapped your incisor and your eyes widened in horror, as he pulled a wrench out of the leather suitcase he’d brought inside with him.

“No, no please,” You begged, feeling your heart thud angrily against your chest, “Please…” But he didn’t pay you any mind as he placed the tooth between the mouth of the wrench, and twisted, popping out your incisor as pain shot through your entire being.  You felt blood fill your mouth, and your eyes flashed with blinding light.

“Oh god…” You were sobbing as he stepped away, inspecting the incisor, “Oh god…” “Pretty.”  He murmured smiling at you, “Wanna see?”

It would be the last thing he ever said.

Suddenly a thunderous bang resonated throughout the entire building you were in, and what sounded like a rain of bullets came showering down.

You could hear shouting outside - and your heart expanded - was that Bangtan?

The door to the room you were in swung open, and before you could blink, a bullet shot through the air and into the back of Taeil’s head.  Within seconds he was dead, slumping over.

You screamed, your chest tightening like a balloon.  God, god, god.  Were you going to be next.  You struggled against your restraints before your eyes met the woman standing in the doorway.

It was Park Jimin’s wife.

Switchblade.

She rushed towards you quickly, her eyes worried as she evaluated your condition.

“Are you okay Y/N?”  She asked quickly, rooting around Taeil’s dead body for the keys to the handcuffs that were keeping you from being able to run, “God.  He’s sick.” “It looks worse than it is,” You told her, spitting out more blood as it trickled down the side of your mouth, “Just get me out of here.”

She finally found the keys, and fiddled around with the lock, eventually freeing you.

“Can you walk on your own?” “Yes.”  You stood quickly, eyes meeting her own, “What about Namjoon?” “Hoseok’s gone to get him,” She grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards the door, “He’s going to fine.  C’mon.  We have got to get out of here.”

The corridor was filled with chaos, and you felt your chest tighten.  Members of Bangtan threw open doors, pulling out their adversaries and throwing them to the ground.

“Ignore it,” Switchblade told you sternly, “Follow me.  And you’ll be fine.” You tried to listen to her.

Tried to ignore the cries of pain - the way members of EXO begged for their lives - the way only moments ago that had been you.

You watched the back of Switchblade’s head, followed her down the winding hallway.

You had to get out.  You had to get out.

Someone to her left tried to knock the gun out of her hand, and Switchblade reacted in less than half a second - bullet through his ears.

Your chest tightened.  You felt sick.  You felt euphoric.

You were going to live, weren’t you?

Just as you reached the end of the hallway - just as Switchblade turned to give you a triumphant smile - somebody stood right in front of you both, blocking the way.

Immediately, Switchblade’s body language changed.  She froze.

Because staring back at her was someone you knew she’d known her entire life.

Sana.

And she was pointing a gun at her.

“Switchblade,” Her voice was so calm, it scared you, “Nice to see you again.  It’s been a while hasn’t it?” The polite tone in her voice belied the anger she felt.  You could see the fire in her eyes.

“I suppose you’ll want to kill me now.”  Switchblade answered coldly, “For Baekhyun’s honour?” “How could you betray EXO like that?”  Sana seemed genuinely hurt for a moment - it flickered across her face - before it was replaced with that same look of cold contempt, “I thought you loved my brother.” “I did.”  Switchblade’s fingers flexed as she pointed her own gun back at her old friend, “But they left me no choice.”

“As you’ve left me no choice.  I hope you understand why I orchestrated all of this.” Switchblade nodded once, sharply, “I understand, Sana.”

“So?”  She cocked her head to the side, “We’re at a deadlock.  Neither of us can shoot.” You heard the regret in Switchblade’s voice, “You always did underestimate me, Sana.  Not just you.  But all of you.  EXO.” And in the blink of an eye, Switchblade had slashed a knife she’d kept hidden behind her back across Sana’s throat.  She was dead before her body reached the ground.

You worried you might vomit again.

“C’mon.”  She turned to you - a look of regret on her face, “It’s over now.” As the front door swung open and sunlight flooded your eyes, you felt like you might very well break down in tears.

Switchblade led you over to the white van that she assured you would take you back home to Jungkook.  Jimin sat behind the driver’s wheel, with Jin in the passenger seat.

You and Switchblade took the backseats.

“He loves you, y’know.”  She told you as she climbed in beside you, “Jungkook I mean.  We all see it.” There was a long moment of silence.  You leaned your head back against the headrest and sighed heavily. 

Then you finally admitted what you’d always hoped, always wanted.  Always dreamed.

Your eyes met her and you nodded.

“Yeah,” You whispered, “I know.”

And then finally, you gave in and fell asleep.

//

You woke up hours later, in darkness.

Your throat was closed tight as your hands clutched for something - anything that might anchor you.

Where were you?  Where were you? Sana’s dead body…

Namjoon’s mangled fingers…

Violetta’s cruel smile….

Taeil’s eyes…

“Oh god, oh god, oh god…” You were sobbing now, body wracking with the force of it, and before you knew it a light had switched on and two warm, strong arms were wrapped around you.

“Y/N.  Oh my sweet baby.  Oh Angel.  I’m so sorry, so sorry…”

You knew that voice.  You recognised that warmth.

As you pulled away, you found yourself staring into the beautiful eyes of your husband, Jungkook.  He relaxed his hold on you but kept one arm around you, pushing hair away from your face and kissing away the tears.

“I’m so sorry Y/N,” You realised suddenly, that he was crying too, “My darling Angel.  I’m so sorry.”

You didn’t know what he was apologising for, but you didn’t care.  Instead you buried yourself further into the warmth of his chest, and breathed in deeply.

It was him.  Jungkook.  You were home.  You were safe.

After a few moments of holding each other, you finally pulled away enough that you could look into his eyes.  He was staring back at you like you might disappear into smoke right in front of him.

“Jungkook…” The word sounded foreign, even to your own ears.

Had it been so long since you’d said it?

“I’m so sorry Y/N.  So sorry.  About everything.” He brought a hand up to cup your cheek and you leaned into his touch.  The smile that graced his lips caught your chest, “God.  When they found Namjoon’s car - Jesus.  I thought I might lose my mind.  Y/N.  My baby.  My sweet, sweet baby.”

He kissed you then, softly, gently, like he was trying to take everything in.  You let him take whatever he wanted from you - you gave him your heart, your soul, your mind freely.

You always had.

“How did you find me?” You asked after he’d pulled away to press kisses against your cheeks - your chin - your eyelids.

“Yoongi.”  He murmured, pushing his forehead against yours and staring into your eyes like he might lose you any moment, “He was tracking Violetta.  We knew she was behind this.”

“Is she…” Jungkook’s eyes hardened, “Yes.  I made sure of it.”

You felt sick again.

She was cruel, awful… But did she deserve death? “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when Switchblade found you,” He ran his hands through your hair, bringing you closer, “But Taehyung wouldn’t let me go.  He said I was too emotionally attached to you.  It was too dangerous.”

You laughed a little, feeling a big, fat tear fall down the dip of your nose, “And are you?” “Am I what, darling?” 

The softness, the affection.. The warmth.  It was overwhelming.  But you took everything he gave you.

“Are you emotionally attached to me?”

He paused for a moment, eyes searching your face fervently.  Looking for something - something you knew he’d already found.

“God Y/N of course I am.  Jesus.  I am so attached - I can’t… I couldn’t go on without you,” He grabbed your face gently and brought your lips to his, pressing a kiss to the side of your mouth.  His eyes were closed as he pulled away after a moment.

“Even though I’m missing a tooth?” You made a feeble attempt at a joke, smiling to display the gap where your incisor should’ve been.

You’d meant for it to be funny, but instead Jungkook’s eyes snapped open - dark and angry - like two swirling orbs of obsidian black.

“I wish I could bring him back so I could take out every single one of his teeth.  And then some.”  His eyes softened and he pressed another kiss to your mouth, “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.” You touched your fingers to his lips, and shook your head.

“I know you did your best, Jungkook.”  Your body was flushed with warmth at the way he was holding you, “Please don’t hold yourself accountable for this.”

“But -” “No.  This is the risk we take.  The risk I take as a member of Bangtan.  As your wife,” You pressed your cheek against his naked chest, “And it’s worth it.”

Jungkook squeezed you tighter at your words.

After a moment, you kissed the space in his chest where his heart beat.

“I love you,” You whispered against the skin, running your nose through his soft hair, “I love you so much it consumes me, sometimes.”

He paused.  Then he pulled you away and tears misted his eyes again.

“God.  I don’t deserve it.  Don’t deserve you Angel.”  He kissed you again, “But I love you too.” The words - though you’d known they were true - filled your heart with an indescribable sense of fullness.

“Say it again.” He chuckled and pressed a kiss to your shoulder, “God.  Love you so much I can’t even think straight sometimes.”  He ran his hand through your hair, “Love you, Angel.  Love you.” The words set fire to your heart.

That night, when you made love, Jungkook told you again and again and again how much he loved you.  How you completed him.  Made him whole.

You returned the sentiments.

And then when you were both spent, lying in bed together, staring at each other in adoration - like two lovesick teenagers - he breathed out a sigh of relief.  Like something he’d been holding in for years.

“I’ve been running for my feelings for you for years, Y/N.”  He told you as he pressed his nose against yours gently, “That’s what Taehyung told me when he said he wanted us to get married.”

Your heart turned, “He did?” Jungkook nodded slowly.

“Was he right?” You whispered, fresh tears coming to the surface.

Jungkook pressed a kiss against your mouth that felt like a vow.  

When his eyes were boring into your own again, he cupped your cheek and stroked your brow.

“Of course he was,” He laughed softly, “ A Capo is always right about these things.” And the truth was…

You couldn’t really argue with that.

//

FIN

[vakarian-shepard]

For them both: Have they ever lost a loved one? What happened to them, and are they the same as they were before they lost them? How would your character define love? How does your character decide if a person is mature or not? Do they have any nervous habits? If they know, what made them start doing them?

Commander Sun Shepard

19. Have they ever lost a loved one? What happened to them, and are they the same as they were before they lost them?

Yes, she has. The batarian raid of Mindoir took both of her loving parents from her in a very brutal, horrific way that she had to watch because she was in the same room. The only thing that kept her safe was a powerful biotic barrier that she was only able to keep up through fear and adrenaline. She's never been the same. Before, she was a happy and well loved young woman with a bright future ahead of her. When she lost them, it felt like that infinite future suddenly started to fall to pieces, and all that was left was a rickety path with only one way forward, if even that. She felt like if she wavered even a little she would fall and everything would be lost. It - both broke her, and turned her into who she is at the same time.

20. How would your character define love?

Love is when someone makes you feel safe, both from the world and safe to be yourself. You enjoy their company, and they make you laugh, and you know that no matter what happens, they're going to be right there with you through to the end.

21. How does your character decide if a person is mature or not?

Answered!

22. Do they have any nervous habits? If they know, what made them start doing them?

Answered!

Lieutenant Commander Kira Shepard

19. Have they ever lost a loved one? What happened to them, and are they the same as they were before they lost them?

Kira lost her father during the Skyllian Blitz on Elysium, but it was - not unimportant, but her father was a drunk and he was not a very kind person, nor was he particularly present a lot of the time mentally. And when he was present - well, he was unpleasant at best. She spent a lot of time out of the house as a teenager, or even as a child she would wander around space stations getting into things. It's a wonder she didn't end up kidnapped or dead, honestly. The death of her father didn't effect her nearly as much as it effected her mother - who became known as the Butcher of Torfan afterwards for losing her shit on a group of batarians after the fact (though, Hana will tell you it was more about the way they'd hurt her daughter and taken her brother and his wife and orphaned their child, and not anything to do with the husband she'd not been in love with for a while).

20. How would your character define love?

Love is when you want to stay, and you do stay. You stay or you always come back, because the person you love is a priority and not just something extra.

21. How does your character decide if a person is mature or not?

Whether or not someone gets worked up by insanely benign and unimportant things or not. And by worked up, she doesn't mean anxious she means like... getting pissed off because your female coworker got a raise and you didn't. Also what works people up - what topics make people angry can tell you a lot about someone's priorities and beliefs.

22. Do they have any nervous habits? If they know, what made them start doing them?

She bounces her leg or paces when she's anxious. A leftover habit from when she used to live on stations and she would just go for a walk when she started getting worked up about something - it doesn't work quite the same way when you're on a ship. It worked well when she was working for C-Sec for that little bit, though. She got to know a lot of the nooks and crannies of Zakera Ward that way.

Character Questions

[huntective-kyeo]

❗Warning❗ TYPOS, SPELLING, AND GRAMMAR. And English is not my first language. Kinda angry hehehe

This is my first time to post it here and I hope you like it. Feel free to criticize my writing so I can improve.

So enjoy.

FIRST FANFIC

My Father is Dean Winchester

Dean POV

I sat down on the chair and open the lid of the beer. It's been hectic two weeks. Sam and I hunt a witch in Colorado and it took us a week to find the witch and killed it. That witch got Sam to bruise his ankle, and a concussion but thankfully nothing major injuries that needed stitches and so. Most of all the sonavabitch wore witch almost touch and probably hex my Baby which I did make her pay for it.

All in all, it took us a few days to get back at the bunker and now I'm sitting on the chair, probably wanted to eat some pies and get drunk.

My thoughts interrupt when the door opened and I looked up wonder who that person is. My instinct is to grab my trustful gun and aim it towards that intruder. However instead of getting alert, and hunting instinct it exactly quite opposite to what I feel right now.

Third POV.

A girl took a deep breath and with her shaky hand, she holds the handle and she pauses before she opened the door.

She didn't know what to do or what to say. She felt nervous to face them all. She wants to keep it secret however it keeps harder and harder to hide all the symptoms she felt during the last few months.

with heavy heart and soul, she opened the door and wish that bunker is well as empty as when she leaves it a few hours ago.

She didn't notice that the Impala, her first love park on her usual spot, she didn't notice a man sit on the chair seem like thinking something, she didn't notice her dad.

Dean POV

" y/n? " I blurted out. I didn't notice that my daughter y/n leave the bunker without telling us, or wasn't I?

Y/n my precious daughter, my little sunshine, and the only reason aside from my little brother who keeps me alive. 16 years ago Her mother and I met at the bar and happened to have one night stand. I was drunk to forget us condoms. I didn't realize it until, nine months later, Kylia found me and she shove the newly baby born into arms. I didn't hear her rants about not wanting kids because I was so fallen to my baby girl. I swear y/n is the most beautiful baby girl that I've ever seen. From that fateful night, I swore that I protect and love her no matter what.

With the help of my brother and my family, we did a good job raising a finest and yet mini-me y/n which kinda bit frustrated when she becomes a rebellious teenager and seeking for a new way to hunt.

I know that being a father and hunter ain't hood to raise a child in a world full of darkness but I did try my best to become a father that she deserved and not the father that I used to grow up

I again clear up my throat and by the time that I saw her, I know something is terrible up. Called it father instinct. My stomach began to feel something that I don't know if it's about the food or the worriedness about my daughter.

"Where have you been, I told you not to go outside not unless if you needed something but should-" I stumble and am shocked by a sudden hug coming from my daughter. My eyebrows meet and speculate more thoughts about what happened to her during a few weeks.

Then suddenly y/n cried up and my heart broke up thousand of pieces. Through I used to her cry of nonsense but this is different. I can feel it.

I began to think of a different reason why she cried like this. Is she on her period? Did a boy break her heart? If it is, then who? Oh god, my baby girl is heartbroken?! No-no-no.

" Hey, baby girl what's wrong? " I managed to ask a few words as I stroke her hair.

I didn't get her reply as she continues sobbing and sniffing on my chest. I continuously stroke her hair and rubbed a small circle on her back. With her tears I heard, I began to tear up which probably I got hurt when my baby girl gets hurt.

I saw Sam holding a can and some books and gave me confused look. I know he was confused about what is going on and the same as me. I only gave her shrug off before concentrate on keeping her calm down.

I sigh and sing a song that makes her calm down. It's a song that I always sing to her whenever she feels scared and upset. it her lullaby and till now I always sing to her when she felt like this. And now even though she's growing up ain't stopping this.

'Hey Jude, don't make it bad

Take a sad song and make it better

Remember to let her into your heart

Then you can start to make it better'

I sang softly and smile. I heard her sobs subside and her shoulder is no longer tensed. I kissed her head and quietly sing the rest of the song

By the song ends, y/n look up to me and hate to see her red-rimmed eyes and red nose face at me.

" Daddy... "

Y/n POV

After the song finish, I felt quite comfortable and my heart no longer pains me.

" daddy" I called up again. I hate seeing my dad worried glances and I wanted to back down but I know it's too late, now that I cried to his chest, and makes my father worried.

" what's wrong, princess " I nearly chuckle to hear the old nickname that I used to love but hate now. I should give my father annoying and death glares to him but I'm drained and tired to argue with my father.

Instead of the reply to his question, I took a piece of paper inside my leather jacket. With my shaky hand, I hesitate to give it to him. I saw my father unfold the paper and read it.

I know he reads it as I saw his face turn to a worried and horrifying face. I bit my lip as teardrops start to stream to his face and suddenly it aches my heart.

I didn't realize that my uncle Sam was there and he took the paper that my dad read it. My dad was frozen and saw Sam has the same reaction but he stumbled a bit and luckily sat on the chair or else he would hurt more.

The air was tense and several minutes seemed like a century to me as I was forced to see my dad and uncle of their horrifying reaction.

I was about to leave them and lock them up in my room but my dad grabs my wrist and put pressure on it, so I couldn't shove it off, I hesitate to look at his now red-rimmed eyes just like mine.

" Is this true? "

My heart broke as I nod

" when... When did it start? "

I flinched to hear a tone when my dad wanted a straight answer but I could see the difference of it. Instead of deadly and threatened, it's a broken and saddened tone that probably haunt me the rest of my life.

" honey, when did start... " I look up to him as a surprise to hear the familiar fatherly sweet tone that only me can know.

"a few months ago. When you just back from purgatory dad... " I mumble but I know that dad heard it because he mumbles coherent words that I know he's cursing, I wish it's not from me.

Then suddenly my dad sat down on the chair and then he hugged tightly couldn't breathe but slightly loose the tightness but still hugging me

" We can pull this up alright, we will. N/n we will fight this together okay, we'll find ways to rid this shit. We will be on your battle. " I then look up at my father and saw the tense and urging look " we will fight this out but you'll do your job ok, you'll kick this shit out, and keep fighting. Don't give up okay please, little n/n. " I heard him crack as didn't say anything considering, I was crying again and the inky response I can get is nodding.

Then I hug my father again and I feel another wrapped strong arms. I smile softly that uncle Sam joined the party. Now we are Complete, I feel like I'm ready to fight this shut out.

" Winchester is hard to kill, not even cancer. " I chuckle to hear uncle Sammy spoke.

"Yeah right, so you gonna do your part little princess, aright. Don't give up. " My father kiss my forehead. We parted away and wipes the tears we have. We laugh as we sniffle then finally our tears died down.

My father, Dean wipe the remaining tears and I look up to him confused. I saw him sad and regret my eyes and my heart sank.

" I love you N/Niepie, " then he kisses my forehead.

----AND CUT!!! ---

" Nice work J2 and Jodi damn there are no dried tears here " Robert yelled as all the staff and crew wipe their tears. " okay thirty minutes break, Jared, come to me I gotta asked you something" he added.

A group of assistants swarms the actors and did their task. Some wipe their sweats, do makeup, fixing their hair, and so on.

Jensen chuckles a little bit and wipes the remaining tears from his eyes.

" nice job dude, seem like the Days of our Lives gig paid off huh" A sixteen years old, young actress Jodi Smith tease him.

He rolled his eyes and ruffle her hair. " nice try but no you not riding my Baby" Jodi groan and about to reply when her assistant came and whisper to her ear "You're lucky, Mr. Ackles. Robert needs me now but I won't stop bothering you not until I sat on the driver seat and ride the impala".

When Jodi is out of sight, Jensen Ackles began to walk through his trailer. The thirty minutes of break is not enough of yearning for his daughter.

By the time he got inside. He locks it and sits on the couch. He rubbed his tired face as he grabs the old filthy Cinderella wallet. Today scene was emotional to him, not because of the scene itself but because he truly did miss his daughter y/n

In the finale of season 12, alongside Jack Kline played Alexander Calvert, and y/n Winchester played Jodi Smith we're both introduced and a new cast of Supernatural. Jensen was supposed to be glad that there are two new members of their family, but instead, it replaces guilt and dreadful feelings.

It's not the new cast members but the fact that Jodi Smith portrays is seem a great punch to his heart that he starts to realize he still has a daughter that should be taken care of.

No one knows not even Jared. Danneel and the kids, the crew nor the fans knew that the great Jensen Ackles has a secret daughter and only his close family knew about this truth.

" I'm sorry princess, How I wish I was there for you but you know I can't."

Jensen stroke a faded picture of an eight-year-old girl holding a doll whilst hugging the twenty-year-old Jensen Ackles.

" I'm sorry, I love you" he kisses the picture with so much love and tears began to stream down his cheeks

Hope you like it keep safe everyone. Reblog and like will yah.

[thewritepages]

The Diary of the Older Collegiate (#TheFreshman Series) (1)

Synopsis : Annabelle Green is somewhat in a situation no thirty year woman would want to find herself in : (Un) Happily divorced, childless and with a job worth peanuts and migraine. The downward spiral of her life doesn't seem to end anytime soon until her sister reminds her of her most cherished dream.

College.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

MAY 3, 2019

3.30 A.M.

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

I hate myself.

No, really. I may have called it once or twice in the past due to mild anger or frustration, but this.

This is real.

I mean, I may be the only person who would:

A) Cry over a failed marriage during an interview

B) Scratch that, cry over a failed marriage in midst of the most IMPORTANT interview in my entire career!

C) Go straight to the pub later to drown my sorrows when I know perfectly well what would happen if I do get drunk.

D) Do what would be obvious to a broken-hearted, career destroyed, thirty year old drunk woman: Leave a string of carefully selected profanities on the voice mail of my beloved ex-husband.

E) Waking up several hours later on the side of god-knows-what street staring in horror at the drunken messages I've sent to everyone in my cell's contact list- which would also include my parents.

And to think of it, I managed it all in little less than 12 hours last night.

I think I'll just dig a burrow in my apartment and never come out of it. Wait a minute...

That's it! I'm never leaving my apartment again. It'll be perfect- I'll take up one of those work-at-home jobs they always advertise on the internet, eat ramen noodles for sustenance and stay protected from the world outside throughout my life.

In fact, I'll tip off my doorman to tell my family that I've left to pursue my inner self and I may never come back again. As many years pass by, my family would mourn over my presumed death while I get a plastic surgery done and change my name to something untraceable like Ronal Wallis.

Oh, jolly good! A brilliant idea. Why didn't I ever think of this before?

MAY 3, 2019.

13.30 P.M.

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

Err; maybe the whole change-my-identity-and-live-happily plan didn't exactly work.

Don't get me wrong, it didn't totally blow up or anything. My doorman, Steve did his job perfectly, informing my sister that I have indeed joined Deepak Chopra on a journey to find myself in a tiny village in the Himalayan Valleys. He narrated the story in such a sober tone that even I found myself believing him for a moment.

But Steve and I didn't realize that in order to leave the country, I would actually need my passport- The passport which is still in my ex-husband's apartment along with the rest of the stuff I was going to pick up this week.

Unfortunately, my sister was very much aware of this piece of information.

"Anna, it's been two months. You've got to get your shit together. You cannot stay dep-" I gave my sister a warning glance.

Not the D-word. Definitely not the D-word.

"I'm completely fine."I mumbled, looking down at the dregs of my empty coffee mug.

"No, you're not completely fine Annabelle Green. You've stopped calling, stop visiting all of us. Hell, nowadays you don't even get your ass out of the bed. Now, I know what Luc-"she stopped short, taking in my pained expression.

Another word I do not want to hear – Luc- Lucas.

Lucas .Lucas. Lucas.

"I'm sorry," Kat, my sister, bowed her head down low. "I shouldn't have brought him up."

"Yeah, you shouldn't have." My eyes closed from exhaustion. "Kat, why are you here?"

"Well, last night you-"

"I KNOW. It was a mistake. And I think I sent an explanatory text earlier this morning."

"That won't stop me from checking up on you, Anna. I'm bloody worried about you."

My eyes descend down to her enormous belly. She shouldn't worry about me right now- I'm not the one who is due for two bouncing baby boys in less than two months.

Did I just say bouncing? Oh, Lord.

"How're the boys kickin'?" I pat her belly gently, forcing myself to smile.

Her face instantly relaxes. "Oh, they're kickin', all right," she smiles at me, "Didn't give me a wink of sleep last week."

Well, that makes the two of us.

"I can't wait for little John and Paul to meet their ol' Aunt Anna." At least this was true. The arrival of my twin nephews is the only thing keeping me up for the past couple of months.

"Anna, we have talked about this. I'm not naming the kids after The Beatles."

"Why not? I recommend you have another set of twin boys so we'll have the entire boy band in our family."

"And have four crazy boys running around the household? No thanks. Phil and I would probably die of insanity."

Sigh. Phil and Kat. Their story is the closest you'd ever get to a fairytale- childhood sweethearts; they were two young teenagers wildly in love but were painfully separated to colleges at the opposite ends of the country. When it looked like it was truly over between them, they reconciled during the summer after college. It was literally The Notebook all over again, leaving out all the letter writing and the crazy house building. I don't think Phil is capable of fixing a broken lock, let alone build an entire house.

Suddenly, I felt someone holding my hand tightly. I look up to see Kat's eyes filled with tears. "Annie, come home. Mum and Dad miss you. I miss you. We want to stay with you in these difficult times. A few days away from Seattle will do you good. "She gets up. "Mum, Dad and Phil are waiting for us in the car downstairs. I'll help you pack up."

My heart softens, but I raise my eyebrows in sarcasm. "So, they sent you to emotionally blackmail me, right? Well, it's working, Mommy –in-waiting."

She tweaks my nose playfully. "It always does, baby sis."

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

A/N :

Hi there, thank you for taking the time to read my new diary styled new ChickLit series:

"The Diaries of an Older Collegiate"(#TheFreshman).

If this chapter ignited an interest for this series, please let me by reblogging or sending me a message. I'm very new to Tumblr writing so it'll really help me calm my nerves :")

Lastly, I'm tagging a few lovely authors here whose works I've been binge reading and they've really inspired me to put out my work out here. Authors, if you like this chapter, I'd be very grateful if you could share it among your network and let me know :)))))

@go1denjeon, @ladyartemesia,@noteguk,@junghelioseok

[peckin-pat-marlow]

Tagged by @captain-teddy-reese

50 Questions: OC Interview

1. What’s your name?

“Howdy. I’m Patricia Marlow.”

2. Give us your full name

“...Ah fine! My middle name’s Winifred... Patricia...Winifred...Marlow.

3. Do you have a nickname? If yes, what is it and how did you come to have it?

“I’ve been called shorter of my names: Pat, Patsy, Patty Cake (don’t bother askin’ why.) But folks way out south west know me as “Peckin’ Pat Marlow. I shot my town’s sheriff the day after...his obstruction of justice. Gave him that kiss he wanted afterwards. And it became a habit with anyone I killed as leader of the Marlow Marauders.”

4. What species are you? (Human, werewolf, etc? Or are you an alien?)

“Last I checked...I’m still human.”

5. Where were you born?

“I was born in a town the south west of texas. It was famous for its large lake and gold mine a few miles out. Just make sure you have ginseng and special vegetation for the snakes and lizards...I wouldn’t head there if I were you. Hasn’t rained for 13 years.”

6. I see. And that would make your age...?

“That would make me...36 years old.”

7. Okay, now...are you a good guy, or a bad guy?

“What I’ve done doesn’t make me a saint, but it don’t mean I have bad morals.”

Part II: Tell Us More About Yourself...

8. How would you describe your personality?

“Back before I was soft, sweet and kind..had to be for the kids, but I still held myself firm for the adults as well. When the town reared it’s ugly head...I became a different person; ruthless, vengeful, hard hearted, didn’t take shit from no person when it came to me and my gang. It take no responsibility for indirect harm because they didn’t handle circumstances better! I was willing to do whatever it takes to get vengeance not with death, but with nothin’ for ‘em left! But I couldn’t my gang be taken with me in my final moments.

But after that last score, when I suddenly found myself alive and rescued. I began to mellow out...I still had my temper and was satisfied with what I’ve accomplished, but I became more aware of how the world was changing. So I just wander the lands to keep an eye on this changing world and hope it’s for the better.”

9. Would you say you're someone who can handle pressure?

“I’ve had moments where I was frustrated...but I’ve managed to maintain my composure around misbehaving kids and disrespectful adults.”

10. Do you like to read?

“Well, yeah. What kind of teacher doesn’t like to read?”

11. Favourite Colour

“I’ve grown fond of the colour black.”

12. Do you get along with others?

“Just because I get along with people doesn’t mean I like them. I do so to get the job done, and if they don’t cross me I choose them to stick close and see how things turn out.”

13. Do you have any enemies?

“Many could call me their enemy, but the one I call my nemesis won’t bother me anymore...”

14. How about friends?

“I became friends with my gang through the trust and teamwork we had for over 13 years. I’m sure they’re all fine and free. I have met other folks but I can’t call them friends just yet.”

15. Are you patient?

“I can be...When your a teacher you have to be patient to know more about situations.”

Part lll: Hypothetically...

16. Suppose that you could become any creature you know of. What would you pick, and why?

“I’ll say a cougar. They’re just as vicious, independent, dexterous, with some self indulgence. They can still purr, y’know?”

17. One of your enemies in question 13 just complimented you. Response?

“Which one? If it’s Gill then he’s complimenting me with sarcasm and rage since he’s still not found the loot. His generation’s gonna be diggin’ for years and won’t be the ones to find it.”

18. One of your friends in Question 14 just insulted you. Response?

“I prefer their insults as criticism. But at least their words won’t mean they betray me straight away.”

19. If you could change anything about yourself...

“I can’t see me changin’ anytime soon...but I guess I gotta find somethin’ else to do without second guessin’.”

20. About your home...

“It ain’t like a manor, but It had enough space for my parents and my things...But it was so damn expensive thanks to Gill’s daddy...it got burnt down by an angry mob, along with my school, Miles’s stand and his donkey, Sally-Ann...

Part IV: Now We Get Personal

21. What're your parents like?

“They were geniuses compared to the other folk in town. Both of em met in the city where they got their degree. I don’t think their families approved though, as I haven’t heard a thing about my grandparents. But they were good people using their money to buy two properties, for my home and school.

But I can’t give em that. Their last wish was to make sure I improved the head on my soldiers before they slowly died together from Diphtheria...I didn’t know they passed until Miles came to check on me.”

22. Do you have any siblings?

“None. I was an only child, thank goodness. If I had a younger baby sister, Gill would target her more than me...”

23. What's your occupation?

“I used to be a teacher in my hometown. Since I was the only women with the knowledge thanks to my parents education, I took up the role. Taught both kids and adults to read and write.”

24. I see, that's a good job to have. Do you like it?

“I enjoyed my job when it came to the kids. Nothin made me feel better than givin’ them somewhere to be while adults did their own thing, though I wished I could have give them more subjects, but reading and writing was more tolerable to teach than the other things that adults couldn’t make sense of. As for the adults...I won’t lie there are some worse than the children. Way worse.”

25. Are you seeing/dating anyone?

“No...”

26. Married/Engaged/Other?

“I wished for that with someone once.”

27. If yes, how did you meet?

“...I met Miles Wiley when I first came to town after my parents moved. He was a vegetable farmer with a donkey he claimed was over a century old from the vegetables he ate. Many folks who can’t afford the doctor’s fee often came to him for tonics, ointments, all sorts of ailments that were reliable, especially for the gold miners who came for the juice as repellent for the lizards. Before me he was the only stranger in that town...He made me welcome even after I took over the town’s teacher and helped repair my school, only askin’ for the spiced apricots I made.

But the town found out how close we really was from our first...and last kiss. He only wanted to fix me after being broken down for so long...We tried to escape by boat, but of course Gill had his ferry and me and Miles weren’t much of a shot...He wasn’t even armed but he shot him...he shot him even as I held him.

28. Tell us your biggest secret.

“Aside from people thinkin’ I’m dead? Everyone knew about me and Miles so I got no big secret to hide.”

29. Your worst fear? You don't have to answer this one if you don't want to.

“After what the Sheriff did, I fear being put into that situation again where I was taken advantage of right under others noses...Then there’s being in the middle of a ring of fire.”

30. Favorite food?

“I may had made spiced apricots once upon a time but it ain’t my favourite food. I don’t have it as much as I like to...but I do miss that Pecan pie.”

30. Favorite drink?

“Spiced Island Moonshine. I just discovered this recipe and it tastes like the goods of home and warm escape. I could kiss Marcel for makin’ this but... then I’d have have to kill him.”

31. Tell us one thing you're the most proud of.

“I would have said getting revenge on Gill for killing Miles was the best thing that happened...But I never imagined letting the group go free after our last score would take that. Some graduation, huh?”

32. Something embarrassing? You don't have to answer this one, either.

“Whatever is embarrassing is what happens when I’m drunk...”

33. If you didn't answer Questions 29 and/or 33, tell me why.

“I may have mellowed out from my recovery, but I have my damn pride still.”

34. Is that a good reason?

“Just take it as you will...”

Part V: Closing

35. Are you satisfied with your life?

“I felt like my life was nearly wasted than satisfied. I loved Miles but I wasted my life in that town. I remembered my gang more fondly than the town. But I’m still young to do somethin’.”

36. Anything you feel like you have to do? It can be something long-term, like a bucket list, or something you need to do right now.

“Well my vengeance has been achieved and leading a gang is something to tick off. I’m gonna start looking for things as Patricia Marlow and not Peckin’ Pat.”

37. Any hobbies?

“I have developed a thing for watching shows in the theatre, and I used to play the banjo to sing songs with kids. I’m sure I haven’t gone too rusty.”

38. Quick, you get one wish! What did you just wish for? It's alright, you can tell me...

“I wish Miles was alive....That’s the one thing I can’t have back.”

39. How would you describe that wish? Good? Bad? Selfish? Selfless? Other?

“I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks of us...Folk wouldn’t have approved of us, but...we’d be more free if we got out together.”

40. Have you been honest with these questions?

“That I have...Now that you know me it’s all about what u gonna do?”

41. Your personal quote?

“The snake which cannot cast its skin has to die. As well the minds which are prevented from changing their opinions; they cease to be mind.” - Friedrich Nietzsche

42. Do you like change?

“It’s what I fought for when things didn’t change enough...”

43. What's your most valued possession?

“Since they burned Miles’s body, I wasn’t left with much to remember him. It was a good thing I found his hat after I left town, but I haven’t taken it out of my satchel since.”

44. Anything else you feel like sharing?

“Not right now, I ain’t.”

50. Last question!...yup, that's it! How do you feel?

“Like a few pounds has been lifted off my shoulders. Or it might just be one of my firearms...Haha! Don’t worry, I just gotta reload.”